10
“L’eon, hurry!” Madas hissed.
She hurried into the recess that she had used as a shelter and grabbed her satchel and spear. Draping the leather strap over her head, she turned on her heel. L’eon was standing on the edge, looking down.
Madas spared him only a brief glance. The pale Tearnat was proving to be a good climber. In irritation, she kicked a small pile of rocks off the cliff.
A grim smile curved her lips when she heard his curses. Not waiting to see what he did next, she bent and swung L’eon up onto her shoulder. Seconds later, she was retracing her climb up to the washed out sections above.
Madas ran for several hundred yards before she began using the rocks as stepping stones to hide her tracks. She retraced her steps to the section where the rocks forked. The trail she h
