Lilies. Dozens of them, the buds tightly closed. This must be where they were grown. At least Leelo had answered two of the mysteries of Endla. But none of this was any use to her. Even if she and Jaren could pull the boat out of here on their own, it wasn’t usable. She would have to wait until the council members repaired the boat themselves.

As she huffed and puffed her way out of the ravine, Leelo thought about what she would say to Jaren. They’d have to find some way to keep him safe during the festival. Perhaps stuffing wool into his ears and locking him inside the cottage would be enough. Or maybe, since he didn’t seem to have been harmed by the other songs he’d heard, he’d be safe anyway.

By the time she made it to the cottage, Leelo’s braid was unraveled, her hands and knees were bloodied from slipping so many times on her way out of the gorge, and her dress was filthy. She couldn’t go home like this, not without some sort of explanation for where she’d been.

She entered the cottage without knocking, her thoughts on all the different conundrums she found herself in.

Jaren glanced up from the book in his lap. The songbook, she saw as he closed it and set it aside. “Hello, Leelo,” he said. “You look like you’ve been on quite an adventure.” His smile faded when he noticed the blood on her. “Saints, are you hurt?”

She snorted and sat down on the floor. “No, just frustrated.” She explained about the cave and the boat, though she left out the part about the lilies, since that had nothing to do with him. She had betrayed Endla enough as it was. She didn’t need to add this to the list.

When she was finished, she waited for Jaren to digest everything. He managed to keep the disappointment he had to be feeling off his face, mostly. “I might be able to repair the boat, if I could get to it. But I’d still need an opportunity to move it to the shore.”

“The council members would wonder how it had gotten fixed, anyway.” Leelo absently untied the ribbon holding what was left of her braid, combing out her hair with her fingers. “I’m sorry. I was hoping to have better news.” She looked up to find Jaren watching her, and she dropped her hands to her lap, suddenly self-conscious.

He cleared his throat and looked away. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “We’ll think of something.”

It was kind of him to say “we” when Leelo knew it was all dependent on her. He couldn’t do anything from here.

“Oh, by the way.” Jaren pulled a piece of parchment off the makeshift table. “It turns out I’m not an artist or a musician. But here.” He handed her the parchment.