insects that lived there. The animals, Alto quickly realized,
had gone silent.
“What’s that?” Gerald asked.
Tristam and the others moved forward,
straining to try to pick up whatever it was Drefan and Gerald
heard. One by one, they caught occasional bits and pieces of it.
High-pitched, it sounded like faint chirps and calls from a bird,
but it sounded like no bird they knew of.
“Let’s go,” Tristam said. “But be silent and
slow. At the top of the rise ahead, we might see this strange
songbird.”
Alto waited for the others to ready
themselves. He saw William readying his crossbow and realized he
should do the same with his longbow. He pulled the bow free from
Sebas and bent it to fit the string in place. Gripping it tightly,
he mounted the stallion and knocked an arrow. He rode after them,
taking care to keep Sebas on the quietest route he could find up
the path.
The path descended into another valley.
Smaller trails climbed up the side of the hill on their right but
to the left the ridge ended. Iron bars were driven into the edge of
the path and a rope had been strung between them along the
makeshift road. They could see, a few hundred feet down the path,
the entrance to a mine shaft on the righthand side.
Fresh pebbles bounced down the steep hill to
their right. Alto stared up, searching to find the source of the
dislodged rocks. He saw movement just as he heard the tones again.
This time, rather than a short chirp, it sounded like a partial
melody. “Did you hear that?” he called out to the others.
“Hush, lad!” Drefan hissed.
Alto glanced and saw everyone was looking up.
William had his crossbow raised, prompting Alto to raise his own
bow, though he had no cause to draw back the string on it. He
scanned the hillside, looking for a target, but found nothing.
“Drefan, check it out,” Tristam snapped.
“Sure, send the little guy,” Drefan muttered
as he climbed off his horse. He pulled a rope out of his pack and
looped it over his shoulder and then moved to the steep hill. He
selected one of the goat paths and started hiking up it, using both
hands and feet to allow him to make it up the steep grade.
Drefan made the climb look easy as he moved
from one rocky outcropping to another. Pebbles and small stones
rained down as he dislodged them. He stopped at one point below the
base of a vertical expanse of rock; Drefan looked down at them and
pointed up. Tristam waved him on.
Alto watched in disbelief as Drefan worked
his way up the sheer rock face. His arms and legs stretched out,
finding nooks and crannies that were invisible to those below. By
the time he reached the top of it and pulled himself onto a ledge,
the sun was beginning to peek over the ridgeline above them.
A few moments after Drefan disappeared, he
tossed one end of the rope over the edge and it landed less than a
dozen feet up the hillside. Alto saw his companions looking at him
and felt a dread grow inside him. Tristam flashed him a grin. Alto
heaved a sigh and dismounted from Sebas. He slipped the bow over
his shoulder, grabbed the quiver that was secured to Sebas’s saddle
and slipped that over the opposite shoulder.
Alto slid back down the hill twice before he
managed to reach the rope. He grabbed on, clinging as his feet
slipped again. With his fall arrested, he heard Gerald chuckling
and then being silenced by Tristam. Alto drew his feet up and got
them under him. Rope in hand, he wrapped it around his other wrist
and began to pull himself up one footstep at a time.
Sweat was streaming down his face by the time
he reached the rock face. He paused, catching his breath, and then
studied the wall of rock ahead of him. He shook his head to keep
the sweat from running into his eyes and then saw the small cracks
and holes caused by weather and erosion over the years that Drefan
used. He scowled, knowing he could have never done the same, and
then tightened his grip on the rope. He put his boot against the
rock and started
had gone silent.
“What’s that?” Gerald asked.
Tristam and the others moved forward,
straining to try to pick up whatever it was Drefan and Gerald
heard. One by one, they caught occasional bits and pieces of it.
High-pitched, it sounded like faint chirps and calls from a bird,
but it sounded like no bird they knew of.
“Let’s go,” Tristam said. “But be silent and
slow. At the top of the rise ahead, we might see this strange
songbird.”
Alto waited for the others to ready
themselves. He saw William readying his crossbow and realized he
should do the same with his longbow. He pulled the bow free from
Sebas and bent it to fit the string in place. Gripping it tightly,
he mounted the stallion and knocked an arrow. He rode after them,
taking care to keep Sebas on the quietest route he could find up
the path.
The path descended into another valley.
Smaller trails climbed up the side of the hill on their right but
to the left the ridge ended. Iron bars were driven into the edge of
the path and a rope had been strung between them along the
makeshift road. They could see, a few hundred feet down the path,
the entrance to a mine shaft on the righthand side.
Fresh pebbles bounced down the steep hill to
their right. Alto stared up, searching to find the source of the
dislodged rocks. He saw movement just as he heard the tones again.
This time, rather than a short chirp, it sounded like a partial
melody. “Did you hear that?” he called out to the others.
“Hush, lad!” Drefan hissed.
Alto glanced and saw everyone was looking up.
William had his crossbow raised, prompting Alto to raise his own
bow, though he had no cause to draw back the string on it. He
scanned the hillside, looking for a target, but found nothing.
“Drefan, check it out,” Tristam snapped.
“Sure, send the little guy,” Drefan muttered
as he climbed off his horse. He pulled a rope out of his pack and
looped it over his shoulder and then moved to the steep hill. He
selected one of the goat paths and started hiking up it, using both
hands and feet to allow him to make it up the steep grade.
Drefan made the climb look easy as he moved
from one rocky outcropping to another. Pebbles and small stones
rained down as he dislodged them. He stopped at one point below the
base of a vertical expanse of rock; Drefan looked down at them and
pointed up. Tristam waved him on.
Alto watched in disbelief as Drefan worked
his way up the sheer rock face. His arms and legs stretched out,
finding nooks and crannies that were invisible to those below. By
the time he reached the top of it and pulled himself onto a ledge,
the sun was beginning to peek over the ridgeline above them.
A few moments after Drefan disappeared, he
tossed one end of the rope over the edge and it landed less than a
dozen feet up the hillside. Alto saw his companions looking at him
and felt a dread grow inside him. Tristam flashed him a grin. Alto
heaved a sigh and dismounted from Sebas. He slipped the bow over
his shoulder, grabbed the quiver that was secured to Sebas’s saddle
and slipped that over the opposite shoulder.
Alto slid back down the hill twice before he
managed to reach the rope. He grabbed on, clinging as his feet
slipped again. With his fall arrested, he heard Gerald chuckling
and then being silenced by Tristam. Alto drew his feet up and got
them under him. Rope in hand, he wrapped it around his other wrist
and began to pull himself up one footstep at a time.
Sweat was streaming down his face by the time
he reached the rock face. He paused, catching his breath, and then
studied the wall of rock ahead of him. He shook his head to keep
the sweat from running into his eyes and then saw the small cracks
and holes caused by weather and erosion over the years that Drefan
used. He scowled, knowing he could have never done the same, and
then tightened his grip on the rope. He put his boot against the
rock and started
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