All day the wind had bitten Gretch the Hunter's face and hands. If he was unable to find a sign soon he would have to retreat to the ground in search of food and fire. Below him and the flier the mountains refused to give up their secrets. Somewhere amongst the unending pines and bleak black rock his quarry were hiding. He circled and wheeled through the sky constantly looking for any sign of human life. Finally he saw what he sought. On the eastern slope of a brutal looking mountain a thin wisp of smoke was rising. He was too high to see the makers of the fire. He pulled the reins down to send the flier diving towards the ground. Berlavi folded her wings and shot downwards. Gretch's heart raced with exhilaration as they sped towards the earth. Pulling back on the reins they evened out a dozen paces above the treetops. Gretch pointed the beast towards the smoke. They approached at speed. The smoke was coming from a small clearing with a mountain stream running through it. Like lightning they passed over it. Below him Gretch's keen eyes counted seven people but his eyes lingered on the sorcerer.

"Hmm," he grunted.

***

Without warning a flier appeared in the sky.

"Emerek! Look!" one of the twins pointed upwards.

Xantia jerked her head up.

A flier! Gretch?

"Who was riding it?" asked Drander, the Bloodknight captain.

"Was it our Liege?" blurted the bull of a man they called Noldorae.

"No. Unless my eyes mistake me, that was Gretch." Emerek said and swung his eyes onto Xantia.

"But she said that the thieves had wounded him," said the twin pointing at Xantia.

"And it was is completely true," Xantia kept her impassive face on, but her heart was thudding in her chest. She knew her life hung in the finest of balances.

"You didn't mention anything about him having a flier," the twin argued.

"That is because he did not have one at the time," Frost stated.

"She's a liar," accused Scarface.

"I have not lied to you about anything." Frost met his hostility with an icy cold stare.

"What do we do?" Drander the captain asked Emerek.

"We do nothing," he replied. "Either Gretch will join us in our quest, or he is still hunting the thieves. In both cases we have nothing to fear from him."

"And what do we do about her?" Drander pointed to Frost.

"We watch her and keep our blades sharp."

***

Gretch slowly circled the mountain looking for the two barbarians. He was sure now that they must be close. He circled the mountain three times, making sure to stay out of sight of Emerek's party. It was only when he turned his attention to the barren stone halfway up the side of the mountain that he saw them. The sun was setting and they were silhouetted against the sky as they stood on a ridgeline.

Gretch smiled and carefully pulled the reins to direct the beast up the slope.

***

Following the goat trail up the mountainside had taken most of the day. Alam and Tajar had picked their way through stunted pines which had eventually given way to course shrubs and wind-blown tussocks. By early evening even the tussocks were gone. It was then that they had left the horses behind, trusting that they would be able to find them later. All that was left was bare black rock - cracked and chipped by thousands of years of battling the ice.

"How long until dark?" Alam asked.

Tajar held his hand to the sky to measure the time. "Just over an hour."

"Well we'd better make up for lost time then. The map says we find a cloven rock and line up the crack with the Still Star. If we don't find it tonight we'll have to sit up here in the wind for a whole day before we can progress."

The wind buffeted them as if trying to throw them off the mountain. It had a touch of ice in it like the first breaths of winter. Despite the discomfort Alam found his excitement growing. He stepped in front of Tajar and bounded forward.

Soon this will all be over.

He leapt up the rocks with ease. A life on The Endless Plains made him used to cold wind so he was unbothered by it. He jogged quickly along the trail. Just as the sun disappeared from the horizon they reached the ridgeline of one of the great arms of the mountain.

"Stop!" he shouted. The other side of the ridge was a sudden cliff. The drop was so sheer it was as if some great giant had sliced part of the mountain with a cleaver. Tajar skidded to a halt behind him. Vertigo pulled at Alam's eyes. His stomach lurched. He scrambled back from the edge.

"Now where?" asked Alam breathing hard.

"The map doesn't say but I'm guessing up the ridgeline."

"Fine."

"Shall we take it a little slower?" smiled Tajar.

"Good idea."

As the sky deepened to indigo, and the stars came out, they lost any sense of the goat trail. If it still existed Tajar had lost it in the darkness. They walked steadily up towards the summit. On their right the slope they had spent the day climbing vanished into blackness. On their left the sheer drop continued. Above them the stars and half moon lit up the sky. Below their feet the black granite reflected the pale moon with just enough light for them to see where the rocks ended and the precipice began.

"There it is!" Tajar pointed ahead. On the ridgeline a sharp boulder twice Alam's height rose up. Parallel to the ridgeline a large crack ran down its centre. It was as if the same giant that had cleaved the precipice had, as an afterthought, brought its cleaver down on the boulder and left a clean split in it.

"The map said we line up the crack with the Still Star," Alam said.

The Still Star was used by trackers and navigators across the lands. It alone of the stars held its position. While all others curled and pivoted around it as they moved through the night sky it alone held still and true.

Tajar found the star and circled around the cracked boulder. Doing so brought him closer and closer to the precipice. By the time the star lined up with the crack he was less than an arm's length from the sickening drop on the other side of the ridgeline.

"Be careful," Alam muttered from the safety of a few paces back from the edge. "The wind is pretty strong." Just looking at Tajar that close to the edge made Alam break out in sweat. His stomach lurched yet again. In his mind's eye he saw Tajar slip and plummet to his death.

"This is the spot," said Tajar. "Bring me a stone to mark it."

Alam picked up a rock a little smaller than his head and cautiously edged his way to Tajar. Once it was handed over he quickly retreated from the edge.

"What's wrong Alam?" Tajar's smiling teeth shone in the moonlight. "Scared of heights?" He placed the rock at his feet and moved away from the drop.

"A little," Alam admitted.

"Well don't wet yourself again. This wind is pretty cold. The last thing you want is for urine to freeze your pants to your skin."

"What do you mean 'wet yourself again'?" Alam smiled. "I've never wet myself!"

"What about the time we were catching rabbits and you couldn't untie your rope fast enough?" Tajar walked over to Alam and patronisingly put his arm around his shoulders and led him a few steps away from the ridgeline.

"I was seven years old!"

"And you still smell of it."

Alam laughed. It was like a tonic. His fear vanished and his thinking cleared.

"According to the map we should be able to see the cave from that spot," said Tajar pointing to the rock they had just placed on the ground. Tajar walked back to it and looked around. "Do you see a cave?" he asked.

"No," said Alam. "But it's so dark I can't see anything."

"Maybe once the sun is up we'll be able to see it."

Alam sighed as his head dipped. "I was hoping to find it tonight. Let's see if we can somehow set up camp out of the wind. We'll have to try and find it in the morning."

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-Y. V. Qualls