the left, then north is straight ahead.”
“Wherever did you learn that?” I asked her.
“There are a lot of books in the classroom,” she pointed out. “They’re not all so dull as Latin!”
My weariness and confusion slowed us, and we came to the chalk cliffs a little before sunset. The wind blew harder here, and far below, the waves crashed against the rocky shore. The sea breeze cleared my head, and I realized that I had been walking half-asleep. I drew in a deep breath.
“Are you all right?” Luna asked.
“There was a—a strangeness in the woods,” I told her. “Couldn’t you feel it?”
She shook her head. “I felt nothing out of the ordinary,” she replied. “What was it like?”
“It was cold, and heavy. I felt as if something was pulling at me. I thought for a minute that someone was . . . watching us. But it’s better here, by the sea.”
“Watching us? Who would be watching us?” Luna turned to look back the way we’d come.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone. Perhaps it’s part of Manon’s magic, meant to scare me,” I said. Then, despite my anxiety, I yawned.
“We must brew more tea for you.” Alarmed, Luna started to search for wood to start a fire.
“Not until we get down to the water,” I objected. “If we build a fire there, the wind will blow the smoke away so none can see it.”
Luna gave me an approving look and said, “Very smart.”
We walked a half mile or so farther along the cliffs until we came to the ladder, attached to the cliff side with rusting bolts. I was appalled to see that many of the steps were rotted, and the bottom rungs were simply gone. It was impossible to tell how far a drop it would be from the last step to the shore below.
“That big storm in February must have pulled it to pieces.” Luna paused, looking at the ruined steps. “This won’t be easy!”
Peering over the cliff made me nervous. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“What choice do we have?” Luna asked practically. “We must get to the water and find a boat—and we must not be seen. We can’t just walk into town.”
“But it isn’t safe,” I said weakly. The thought of climbing over the side and descending a ladder that could tear itself from the cliff at any moment made me feel quite shaky. I tightened my grip on her arm.
“I’ll go first,” Luna decided. “That way I can catch you at the bottom.”
“Catch me?” I said. “I’m much heavier than you—I’ll knock you flat! And who will catch you?”
Luna grinned. “I’m like a cat,” she said. “I always land on my feet.”
We moved to the head of the ladder, and I let go of Luna’s arm. She turned her back to the sea so she could hold the wooden railings and began climbing down. She had to feel with her feet for each step, and I could hear the old wood creaking and groaning above the sound of the waves. But then she moved faster, until she came to the drop-off at the bottom. I peered anxiously over the edge as she lowered herself until she hung by her arms. Her feet dangled above the ground. Then she let go.
“A cat indeed!” I said, relieved, as Luna staggered on the stones below, trying to keep her balance. A moment later I could see her dancing about with glee.
“It’s fun, Sister!” she called, the wind snatching at her words.
I stood at the top of the ladder and turned. Gripping the railings so hard that I could feel splinters from the rotted wood piercing my skin, I put one foot on the top step. There! Step by step I inched my way downward. When my foot reached the fifth rung, it creaked and tilted, but I held on so tightly that I didn’t slip.
I don’t know whether it was because I was slower than Luna, or because I was heavier, or both. But when a sudden gust of wind shook the ladder, it gave a great rasping groan and began to break away from the cliff. Above me I could see each step swing free, one by one. The fourth step, the third, the second . . . When
“Wherever did you learn that?” I asked her.
“There are a lot of books in the classroom,” she pointed out. “They’re not all so dull as Latin!”
My weariness and confusion slowed us, and we came to the chalk cliffs a little before sunset. The wind blew harder here, and far below, the waves crashed against the rocky shore. The sea breeze cleared my head, and I realized that I had been walking half-asleep. I drew in a deep breath.
“Are you all right?” Luna asked.
“There was a—a strangeness in the woods,” I told her. “Couldn’t you feel it?”
She shook her head. “I felt nothing out of the ordinary,” she replied. “What was it like?”
“It was cold, and heavy. I felt as if something was pulling at me. I thought for a minute that someone was . . . watching us. But it’s better here, by the sea.”
“Watching us? Who would be watching us?” Luna turned to look back the way we’d come.
“I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone. Perhaps it’s part of Manon’s magic, meant to scare me,” I said. Then, despite my anxiety, I yawned.
“We must brew more tea for you.” Alarmed, Luna started to search for wood to start a fire.
“Not until we get down to the water,” I objected. “If we build a fire there, the wind will blow the smoke away so none can see it.”
Luna gave me an approving look and said, “Very smart.”
We walked a half mile or so farther along the cliffs until we came to the ladder, attached to the cliff side with rusting bolts. I was appalled to see that many of the steps were rotted, and the bottom rungs were simply gone. It was impossible to tell how far a drop it would be from the last step to the shore below.
“That big storm in February must have pulled it to pieces.” Luna paused, looking at the ruined steps. “This won’t be easy!”
Peering over the cliff made me nervous. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“What choice do we have?” Luna asked practically. “We must get to the water and find a boat—and we must not be seen. We can’t just walk into town.”
“But it isn’t safe,” I said weakly. The thought of climbing over the side and descending a ladder that could tear itself from the cliff at any moment made me feel quite shaky. I tightened my grip on her arm.
“I’ll go first,” Luna decided. “That way I can catch you at the bottom.”
“Catch me?” I said. “I’m much heavier than you—I’ll knock you flat! And who will catch you?”
Luna grinned. “I’m like a cat,” she said. “I always land on my feet.”
We moved to the head of the ladder, and I let go of Luna’s arm. She turned her back to the sea so she could hold the wooden railings and began climbing down. She had to feel with her feet for each step, and I could hear the old wood creaking and groaning above the sound of the waves. But then she moved faster, until she came to the drop-off at the bottom. I peered anxiously over the edge as she lowered herself until she hung by her arms. Her feet dangled above the ground. Then she let go.
“A cat indeed!” I said, relieved, as Luna staggered on the stones below, trying to keep her balance. A moment later I could see her dancing about with glee.
“It’s fun, Sister!” she called, the wind snatching at her words.
I stood at the top of the ladder and turned. Gripping the railings so hard that I could feel splinters from the rotted wood piercing my skin, I put one foot on the top step. There! Step by step I inched my way downward. When my foot reached the fifth rung, it creaked and tilted, but I held on so tightly that I didn’t slip.
I don’t know whether it was because I was slower than Luna, or because I was heavier, or both. But when a sudden gust of wind shook the ladder, it gave a great rasping groan and began to break away from the cliff. Above me I could see each step swing free, one by one. The fourth step, the third, the second . . . When
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