as she went. She soon lost sight of Garth and began a prear-
ranged series of tugs on the rope to tell him what she wanted.
The wind rushed at her, growing stronger now, pushing at
her angrily. She hugged the cliff face to avoid being blown
about. The clouds masked the sky overhead completely, build-
ing on themselves. A few stray drops of rain began to fall.
She gritted her teeth. She did not fancy being caught out in
the open like this if the storm broke. She had to finish her
exploration and climb up again quickly.
She backed down into a pocket of scrub. Thorns raked her
legs and arms, and she pushed away angrily. Working through
the brush, she continued down. Glancing over her shoulder, she
could see something that had not been apparent before, a dark-
ness against the wall, a depression. She fought to contain her
excitement. She signaled Garth to give her more slack and
dropped quickly along the rock. The darkness grew closer. It
was larger than she had believed, a great black hole in the face.
She peered through the gloom. She couldn’t see what lay inside,
but there were others as well, there, off to the side, two of
them, and there, another, partially obscured by the brush, hid-
den by the rock
Caves!
She signaled for more slack. The rope released, and she slid
slowly toward the closest of the openings, eased toward its
blackness, her eyes squinting
Then she heard the sound, a rustling, from just below and
within, It startled her, and for a moment she froze. She peered
down again. Shadows shrouded everything, layers of darkness.
She could see nothing. The wind blew shrilly, muffling other
sounds.
Had she been mistaken’
She dropped another few feet, uncertain.
There, something
She jerked frantically on the rope to halt her descent, hang-
ing inches above the dark opening.
The Roc burst into view beneath her, exploding from the
blackness as if shot from a catapult. It seemed to fill the air,
wings stretched wide against the gray waters of the Blue Divide,
across the shadows and clouds. It passed so close that its body
brushed her feet and sent her spinning like a web-tangled piece
of cotton. She curled into a ball instinctively, clinging to the
rope as she would a lifeline, bouncing against the rough surface
of the rock and fighting not to cry out, all the while praying the
bird wouldn’t see her. The Roc lifted away, oblivious to her
presence or uncaring of it, a golden-hued body with a head the
color of fire. It looked wild and ferocious, its plumage in disar-
ray, its wings marked and scarred. It soared into the storm-filled
skies west and disappeared.
And that’s why there are no seabirds about, Wren confirmed to
herself in a frightened daze.
She hung paralyzed against the cliff face for long moments,
waiting to be certain that the Roc would not return, then gave
a cautious tug on the rope and let Garth haul her to safety.
IT BEGAN TO RAIN shortly after she regained the summit of the
cliffs. Garth wrapped her in his cloak and hustled her back to
the valley where they found temporary shelter in a stand of fir.
Garth built a fire and made soup to warm her. She stayed cold
for a long time, shivering with the memory of hanging there
helplessly as the Roc swept underneath, close enough to snatch
her away, to make an end of her. Her mind was numb. She had
thought to find the Roc caves in making her descent. She had
never dreamed she would find the Rocs as well.
After she had recovered sufficiently to move again, after the
soup had chased the chill from within her stomach, she began
conversing with Garth.
“If there are Rocs, there might be Elves as well,” she said,
fingers translating. “What do you think?”
Garth made a face. I think you almost got yourself killed.
“I know,” she admitted grudgingly. “Can we let that pass for
now? I feel foolish enough.”
Good, he indicated impassively.
“If the Addershag was right about the caves of the Rocs,