They watched eagerly as mist swirled up from the sea and over the cliff edge, but they hadn’t taken more than ten paces from cover before four winged objects hurtled toward them, beaks ajar, wing talons extended. Varian and Kai reached shelter as giff claws tore strips from the leaves over their heads.
“How did they know? They couldn’t bloody see!” Kai demanded when he recovered his breath.
“Sound!” Varian regarded her boots in disgust. She stamped a boot contemptuously. “These broadcast our movements. To demonstrate …”
She located a handful of loose chippings and threw them out onto the cliff. Though they knew they were safe, they both ducked at the whir of wings as the giffs responded to the sounds.
“So?” asked Kai.
“So, while we’re waiting …”
“How long is that likely to be now?”
“Giffs are not nocturnal. Sooner or later, habit is going to be too strong for them and they’ll want to get back to their nests. Particularly,” she added at his skeptical expression, “if we give them reason to doubt our continued presence here. Like a small avalanche down the ravine …”
“Ah …”
“Then, with our boots off, we tip toe quietly home …”
“Sounds simple enough.”
“I know.” Her tone admitted that simple plans can suddenly develop serious flaws.
Nevertheless, they began quietly searching the ravine edge for a suitable natural slide. They then dammed it with a fallen branch to which they attached a vine. It was difficult to find enough stones and rubble to place behind the branch. Once a small shower cascaded into the ravine and they suspended all movement until the whir of wings disappeared. They worked quickly for Ireta’s night would soon complicate things. As it was, they finished the last of their arrangements in the dark.
Removing their boots, they secured them to the blanket packs across their shoulders.
“I have a sudden negative thought,” said Varian, her lips against Kai’s ears. “I can’t remember how far it is to the edge of the cliff. We won’t be able to see until we’re there—or over it.”
16
Anne McCaffrey – Dinosaur Planet II – The Survivors Kai contemplated that hazard. “Well, it’s not going to make any difference when we try to cross in the dark, is it? So, if they’re diurnal, they might just fall asleep if we give ’em enough time. Then
…” he paused as a sudden notion occurred to him, “why not lengthen this release vine and go as far as we can, and make our avalanche when and if we need a diversion?”
Varian gave his hand a quick squeeze and then turned to cut more vine. In whispered consultation, they estimated that the edge of the cliff was about 30 meters away, so Varian knotted sufficient vine to approximate that length.
Waiting in darkness punctuated by the noises of night creatures which nibbled, squeaked, and scrabbled was most tedious. Kai practiced the Discipline breathing that calmed nerves, and exerted the strength of patience on an over active imagination. Tiny noises in infinite variety assumed a menacing quality despite the slightness of sound. He could feel Varian, beside him, practicing the same exercises and was subtly comforted.
Varian’s sudden disappearance from his side startled him.
“No mist, and only three sleepy bird watchers,” was her quiet murmur in his ear a moment later.
“We go?”
Her answer was a hand on his, then she stepped in front of him, slowly parting the vegetation as he followed, playing out the release line as she cleared the way.
Although the vines lay in thick profusion along the cliff top, there was sufficient space between tendrils to allow their bare feet a reassuring contact with the cooling stone. Bent in a semicrouch, Kai watched Varian’s white feet as they moved forward, always angled back in the direction of the ravine. He kept the line as taut as he dared. Varian, one hand lightly touching his shoulder, kept her eyes on the curiously luminous forms of the giffs, whose crested heads were turned toward the ravine. Their wings were folded. Kai wondered if they kept from falling over by clutching the rock with their wing joint talons. They were so motionless, they had to be asleep.