“So, what now?” Grace asked, her back rested against a rock sculpted to resemble some gigantic, mythological beast.
“We must inveigle ourselves into the midst of the monsters.”
“I hope that is a metaphor.”
“Hmm, in this instance, I’m unsure,” Headlock quipped.
“The great Mortimer Headlock is human after all,” his companion giggled, one hand pressed over her lips.
“I’m beginning to wish I was a tad more.” Headlock indicated with his chin to the city of rock. “Notice anything odd about the place?”
“Well, I was surprised at there being no wall or barricade to cross.”
“I think we can safely say that deep within the bowels of these mountains it is not a priority.”
“Then, what?”
Mortimer pointed two splayed fingers to his eyes then to Shangri-La. “No doors, Grace. A city without an obvi
