Halfway down, Ella began to hear a huge roaring sound. It grew louder the more distance she made down the face. Then she passed a knob of rock, and the source of the sound was revealed.
A second mighty waterfall, sparkling in the sun. Water sprayed out in a cloud around it, rainbows sprayed their colour across the air. Butterflies buzzed about flying up then down, to where the waterfall was lost in the foam churned up by its power. It was an amazing sight. The most beautiful she had ever seen. Ella watched it as she descended confidently down the rocky face.
Then her feet felt out into emptiness.
Her scream brought Layla to the top of the cliff, peering down at her. "What is it? I can’t help you from up here."
Ella would have laughed if she hadn’t been terrified. "I need your help! I need you to look down and tell me where I can put my feet."
Layla frowned down at Ella. "Why don’t you just look down yourself?"
The muscles in Ella’s arms were growing weak. She tried to grab hold of the rope with her feet to take some of the strain, but couldn’t get a purchase. She slipped.
"Layla! Just help me!"
"I don’t understand why you don’t just look down?"
Ella took a deep breath. "Because I know if I look down I won’t be able to continue! I don’t want to know how far I have to go! Does that answer your question?"
"No need to be angry. The cliff falls away below you, for about ten paces. You need to either slide down or swing to the side to get hold of the cliff with your feet."
"I can’t slide! I’m not strong enough! I’ll fall!"
"Then swing to the side."
Taking a deep breath, Ella kicked out to the side. She just managed to touch the side of the fissure. She began to swing. Her arms were on fire. She kicked out again. She began to swing more. The pressure it was putting on her arms was too much.
She fell. Her hands slid down the rope, scorching her palms, but she couldn’t let go, she had to hold on, had to…
Her feet touched the ground. The fissure panned out, slowly sloping to become the valley floor.
Something scampered down the rope. Layla landed next to Ella only a moment later.
Ella just stared at her, too angry to speak. Her eyes were wide, her fists clenched at her sides.
"What?" said Layla. "You told me you didn’t want to know how far you had to go."
~
ELLA didn’t say a word as they continued along the lush ground of the valley. After a while though she relented; the beauty was just too great to maintain a foul mood, and Layla didn’t seem affected anyway.
The valley had a microclimate — its own cycle of seasons and warmth, its own species of birds and insects. The warmth rising from the valley finally took the chill from Ella’s bones, chill she hadn’t known had been there. Butterflies the size of a man’s hand and coloured like brilliant jewels fluttered about lush green trees. Ella could now see three other waterfalls. The water spilled far out into empty space before disappearing into mist.
"Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?" Ella said softly, almost whispering. "Look at that bird, there on that branch, its just sitting there looking at us. Why doesn’t it fly away?"
She cooed to the rainbow-coloured bird, as big as a medium sized cat, with a large hooked beak. It eyed her curiously, tilting its head first one way then another. Ella reached in to touch it. Only at the last moment did it hop a little bit away.
They followed some kind of game trail, either a path made by animals or a track long-neglected by humans. The roaring of the waterfalls grew more distant. Ella didn’t ask if they were still on Killian’s trail, she was learning to pick up the subtle signs as Layla checked small changes in the plants or the earth.
Ella followed Layla into a wooded glen. A soft gurgling sound came from somewhere ahead, a pleasant tinkling — the sound of running water. Birds fluttered from tree to tree, singing to each other in their high voices. Ella hardly had an eye for the path, mesmerised.
"Few people come here," said Layla. "The animals have not learned fear."
They emerged from the trees. In front of them was a wide, turbulent river, its water a deep green, splashing against the banks.
"Someone must have come here," said Ella, pointing at something on the bank.
It was a roped bridge, evidently the only way to cross the river.
It was in tatters, deliberately cut after being crossed.
"He covers his tracks well," said Layla.
Ella sighed.
30
I had finally reached the summit of the mightiest mountain in the Emdas. The victory was short-lived. Some regular arrangements of stones told me an ancient people had been there long before me.
— Toro Marossa, ‘Explorations’, Page 189, 423 Y.E.
"SARK. The guest house with the best view in the whole of Halaran," a voice came from Miro’s shoulder.
Miro started.
"Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you."
It was Bartolo. Miro had been so lost in thought that he hadn’t heard him approach.