CHAPTER 7The Black Cliffs Again
It was midmorning on a damp and windy day when he reached the Black Cliffs. The air was unseasonably cold, but to one who had just returned from the farthest north, it was comfortable enough.
The sea was rough, white-capped with foam, the tide as high as it ever got, the beach reduced to a thin strip of sand and stones at the base of the glistening cliffs. Evnos climbed out of the boat into waist-deep water and dragged the vessel between two boulders. He spoke a word of thanks to the gods and the Water Dove was no more. A wave broke over the boulders, then poured out between them, sending shells clattering back into the depths.
He unknotted his rope and his captive wind whirled around him for a moment, angry, yet delighted to be free, and then it was gone
