The mage’s garden was a narrow strip of green far below, protruding
from the side of the plateau. Around the base of the tower, it expanded into
well-kept grounds, but on every side, there was a steep drop-off into the deep
valley.
A chilly breeze swept up from the mist-shrouded ground below, and my
skin prickled. “I’m not jumping down there.”
“Of course not. We’ll climb,” Jaxson said as Amal swung herself over the
side of the roof and dropped to a narrow wall at the cliff’s edge. Then she
climbed down.
So this is how my crazy friends and I die in Italy, I thought.
Jaxson dropped down on the wall and looked back up. “I’ll
climb down
beside you. Don’t worry, the rock here is porous, and there are plenty of
handholds.”
My palms suddenly felt like seaweed, and my stomach tumbled. But I
wasn’t going to let him seem me squirm.
“I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
I forced my claws out, sank them into some cracks in the top of the stone
wall like Amal had done, and then levered myself over the edge.
It took ten heart-rending minutes to get down, and when my feet finally
hit the ground, I uttered a quiet prayer of thanks and vowed to never climb
anything ever again.
My fingers throbbed with pain, and I had to wrap my arms around myself
to stop them from trembling. “What now?”
“We look for a way in,” Amal whispered.
Tendrils of predawn mist wound around the garden. I could make out
ornamental trees and flower beds, and a little gazebo in the distance. A series
of busts were mounted on the low stone perimeter wall. I peeked over the
edge, and my stomach dropped with a fresh twinge of vertigo. It was just
darkness and mist below.