The staircase passageway had rock blocking the exit. There was another Dragonlilly on the center of the rock that started to pulse once they arrived at the bottom. Nimma touched it, felt the familiar prick that drew a small amount of blood and the rock before them shifted enough allowing them to leave. Just as before the tunnel sealed itself behind them. It had taken them about a day and a half to get through.

    "This isn't good," Grant said in dismay.

    Nimma couldn't argue. The rain had been troublesome for a while now and while it was no longer a torrential downpour, steady streams of water poured down the canyon walls from above. They angled down to the center of the canyon creating a rushing creek that could fast become a river. It wasn't just this stream they had to worry about.

    The river they had taken a detour to avoid must have swelled with all the rainfall and there was a chance it had swelled enough that it could spill into the canyon any minute. Until they got to the branching off points that would allow them to exit this place they had effectively trapped themselves in a bowl edged by sharp and hard rocks. 

    "We don't have another choice," Nimma reminded him.

    "I know. I've never seen flooding this bad up here. We need to move fast or as fast as we can anyway with my damn ankle. This is a good spot to be though. There's an overhang we can walk under almost the entire way so we can stay dry." He pointed to the left where the ledge they were under continued. "That's the way." 

    "Hold on." Nimma leaned Grant up against the rocks walked to the very edge of the ledge and peered across to the other side of the canyon. "Give me your backpack." 

    Nimma took hers off and started to empty it. She stuffed as much into Grant's pack as she could and left what couldn't be transferred in the smaller pockets of the backpack and some in the main compartment. It would have to be enough room.  

    "What are you doing?"

    "Look on the other side. Those are apple trees, peach trees, and it looks like some other fruit bearing plants. We could use the food. I don't know about you but I'm sick of choking down that powder."

    "Yeah but nothing will be growing over there. It's too early."

    "Not for me." She walked into the cold rain down the gentle slope and across the knee deep creek. It was a strong current. If it grew enough that it overtook their path they would be swept away. Shivering Nimma made it to the other side. 

    She'd never done this before on so large a scale. According to Alexa the witches of this day were more powerful than their ancestors and could store more magic inside them. Nimma never had training but if there was one thing she knew she could do it was make plants grow. How hard could it be to make plants that were already here bear their fruit out of season?  

    She started with the apple tree. Nimma put both her hands on it and closed her eyes. She reached deep within herself and touched that well of magic inside her. Her eyes closed and the golden light passed from her hands and into the rough bark. When she opened her eyes the tree bore apples ripe for picking. Every branch was heavy laden and she picked all she could reach.  

    For the rest instead of making the fruit appear all over, Nimma tried to make just one section bloom which she could easily reach. It produced varying results. Once her pack was heavy with extra food she made her way back to Grant.  

    "That was impressive," Grant told her. 

    "Thanks. We should switch. The food is lighter." Nimma bent to grab Grant's backpack and a pictograph caught her eye.  "'Pack of falsehoods act as guide–truth alone by self will stand–far apart from rest of band.'"

    "The poem? What about it?" Grant was looking down the path they were about to take and then turned to face her.

    "See this shadow cat?" Nimma dug through her pockets and grabbed the journal from the water proof pouch she kept it in. She handed the picture of Regina and her baby to Grant. "Look at Regina's feet then here."

    On the wall was a small silver shadow cat with white spots, bright blue eyes, and missing half its left ear. There was no mistaking it this was the very same shadow cat from the picture. Its face was pointed left the direction they would soon be going. Unlike the other pictographs in the canyon this shadow cat was by itself; all the others were drawn in packs or at least pairs.

    "Remarkable, it's the same animal. It looks like it could have been painted yesterday. A few of the pictographs in the canyon are pretty vibrant but this is beyond any I've seen."

    "It must be magically preserved." Nimma mused. "Regina has the face pointed to the left."

    "Maybe we'll run into the treasure on our way to the access road."  

    "How far is it from here?"

    "Three days. It'll probably take us four though."

    "How are you feeling?"

    "Well enough. I'll go as fast as I can. I don't want to be stuck down here with the river rising. Are you ready to go?"

    Nimma nodded and put the picture back in the journal and sealed it away. She'd never felt closer to Regina than right now. She'd always admired the woman a great deal of course but that admiration also had negative aspects.

    Even though many people native to the island were named after stars, Rigel was one of the least common. If you had that name there was a good chance you were related to Regina. Regina's exploits while extremely famous in Star City and the surrounding area but were nothing more than interesting historical facts the farther away from it you moved. At the northern most parts of the island there were people who didn't remember learning of Regina in school. The names and places were far away and didn't affect the lives of those people.

    Nimma however had grown up in Regina's shadow. Regina's name followed Nimma around all her life. Many people had been slightly distrustful of Nimma based on her name being Rigel alone. Others, enthusiastic local historians, writers, even television producers and movie executives had approached her for information. Where was Regina's hiding place, was she a witch, does your family have the money, do you know where it is, how do you feel that you're descended from a thief and possible murderer?

    Nimma could handle those questions now. Growing up it was a different story. Kids could be far crueler than adults and that was something she learned early. Every spring it was worse because that was when they did deeper studies into local history. How many papers had she listened to that, in addition to being poorly written by kids and teenagers, were determined to paint Regina as a demon and her victims the Towers as saints?                

    How many whispers had she heard to stay clear of Nimma because she was a thief just like Regina? Nimma had gotten into more than a few fist fights during school with people who picked on her because of it.  

    One of the very few times Nimma threw the first punch was actually a fight with a Towers girl her age. Celeste Towers had been the worst of Nimma's tormentors. Nimma put up with the name calling and whispers for years until one day Celeste escalated things. It was once again spring the dreaded local history unit in school was upon them.

    It was senior year and no one did their oral project on anything to do with Regina which was a pleasant surprise. Nimma always steered clear of the topic herself much to the obvious dismay of her classmates. Nimma was scheduled to go last and Celeste was right before her. Nimma's good mood was ruined as Celeste did her project on the history of her family and Nimma's. It painted Regina in the absolute worse light possible and Celeste's ancestors as heroes who just managed to save the town from an insane and degenerate outlaw.     

    Celeste stared Nimma down the entire time and the tension in the room ramped up with each minute. Celeste's presentation got the polite applause each one did and then it was Nimma's turn and she went off script. Instead of presenting her actual work, which detailed a famous explorer who was the first person to map the shores of Myras in a boat she made herself, Nimma decided to tell Regina's version of events. It made the Towers come off as the worst villains the city, and possibly the entire country had ever seen.     

    She stared down Celeste and took immense sanctification watching the girl glare and grind her teeth. Silence met her once she finished and the teacher took that time to inform her she received a failing grade as nothing matched the notes Nimma turned in. Nimma didn't care though.   

    The next day Celeste met Nimma in the parking lot and they got into a screaming match. Nimma was prepared to walk away until Celeste grabbed Nimma's backpack and threw it in a mud puddle. Nimma punched the girl and broke her nose. Celeste was tougher than she looked and came at Nimma with a southpaw that knocked her into the mud too. The fight lasted for a while with neither really gaining an upper hand and a crowd of cheering students surrounded them and egged them on. Eventually someone had alerted the teachers and they were pulled apart. Nimma had managed to rip out a good chunk of Celeste's emerald green hair which forced Celeste to shave her head. Nimma felt particularly good about that since Celeste was very vain about her long luscious locks.