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A broken pile of stone shows where a bench had once rested long ago. James doesn’t care, he just lies down on the flat ground to the side of the stairs and hopes his legs calm down before they resume the climb.

Jiron goes to the edge of the overlook and gazes out across the valley. “We’ve already come a ways,” he says to James.

Coming to stand beside him, Aleya takes in the panorama of the valley laid out before them. “Beautiful,” she says. “If I’d known it was like this, I would’ve done this long ago.”

After he’s rested a moment and his legs have stopped their aching, James gets to his feet and comes over to stand next to them. Indeed, the view is breathtaking. Looking hard, he can make out the ruins nestled in amongst the trees. If he didn’t know they were there, he probably wouldn’t have noticed them.

“James!” Jiron exclaims as he points to a clearing near the middle of the valley.

Squinting against the morning light, he’s able to make out shapes down there. Hundreds of them moving in their direction. “I guess they didn’t give up.”

“No,” comments Aleya, “It doesn’t look like it.” Grabbing her bow from where it sits propped up against the broken pieces of the bench, she says, “We better move.”

Resuming the climb with renewed determination, James doesn’t get very far before he begins feeling the tingle of someone doing magic. It’s not very strong but it’s there. A shadow blots out the sun for just a moment and he looks up to find clouds rolling in at an unnatural speed.

“What’s going on James?” Jiron asks from where he’s paused several steps ahead of him, looking at the sky.

Turning his attention to Jiron, he says, “He’s calling clouds to the area.”

“Why?” he asks.

“Don’t know,” he replies. “But I doubt if it’s for our benefit. We better get up and off these stairs fast.”

Aleya is further up and has paused when she realizes they’ve stopped. “Come on!” she hollers back down to them. “We’re halfway there.”

With a groan, James gets his fatigued legs moving.

Sitting at the top of the ridge is what looks to be a broken watchtower, probably at one time having stood guard over this way into the valley. By the time they’ve reached the next rest area, soldiers can be seen at the bottom of the stairs where they’re beginning the ascent. Above them, the ruins of the watchtower stand silent vigil over the events below.

The side of the ridge begins to rise more severely as the stairs continue to wind their way along its face. One more rest area between them and the top, Aleya has already reached it and is waiting there for them to catch up.

James is having a hard time, his legs are beginning to become leathery from the incessant climbing. When Jiron is about to the rest area he glances back down to find James still quite a ways below them. Down at the base of the stairs is a veritable swarm of black shapes waiting their turn to begin ascending the stairs in pursuit.

He rushes back down to where James is huffing and puffing. Grabbing his arm he cries out, “We don’t have all day!”

“I know,” James wheezes, thankful for the aid. With Jiron’s help he manages to make it to the rest area and collapses.

“We can’t stay here!” Aleya confronts him as he lies on his back, trying to get his wind back and calm the complaints his legs are sending him. Above them, the cloud cover is steadily increasing as more and more stream in from every direction. Within the dark, churning mass above them, they begin to see bursts of light as lightning flashes. The wind begins to pick up as it whips against their exposed position on the ridgeface.

Flash! Boom!

Suddenly, a bolt of lightning strikes the ridge not far from them. The concussion of the blast knocks Aleya and Jiron to the ground. The spike in the tingling sensation just prior to the flash tells James this was no accident. Struggling against his protesting body, he gets up off the ground as the others do the same.

“He’s calling the lightning!” James yells to Jiron. The wind