Iyla unfolded the map first. It showed the drowned city below them, with one building marked in red: the old bank vault, deep down in the dark water. "He hid something there," she said. "That's what the key opens." Sefu looked at the cold sea. "That's ninety fathoms down. But the bell could take us."
They lowered the bell together, the chain rattling as it played out. Down and down they went, past chimneys and church towers, until the bank rose up out of the gloom. Iyla swam out with the key and pushed open the heavy vault door. Inside, instead of gold, sat rows of sealed glass jars filled with seeds.
Iyla read the label on one jar: wheat, drought-proof, the last of its kind. Their father hadn't hidden treasure. He'd hidden a future. "The ridge people are starving," Sefu breathed. "With these we could grow food anywhere." They filled the bell with jars and pulled the signal rope to rise.