With that he raced into the second tunnel at the back. The passage was narrow; he had to crawl. As he moved in the darkness, his heart thudded and the sneer would not leave his lips. He was not afraid for his life, he realized. His cared not whether he lived or died. He was scared for his father. For Laira. For Requiem. The tunnel walls shook as the rocs shrieked outside.

Finally the tunnel curved sharply. He climbed a slope, emerging into a chamber that held their tools and weapons—fishing gear, blades, pelts, arrows, and sundry other items. A small opening gaped in the cliff side, looking out into the dark canyon, barely larger than his head.

"I see no weredragons, my chieftain!" rose a deep, hoarse voice outside. A roc cawed.

A second voice answered, high-pitched and twisted with cruelty. "This is the place. The reptiles are hiding here. Down into the canyon! Find them."

Jeid recognized that second voice, and a growl rose in his throat.

Zerra. My twin brother.

Wings beat, men cursed, and he heard talons clatter down against the stones outside. Jeid approached the small opening and peered outside. He could see them below, the great vultures—larger than dragons—barely fitting into the gorge. Their talons scattered stones, and their riders gazed around, hands on their bows. Last time Jeid had seen them, the tribesmen had worn fur and leather and fought with stone-tipped arrows. Tonight they wore bronze breastplates and helms, and metal tipped their arrows.

Somebody armed them, Jeid realized. That's why they no longer fear us. Somebody gave them armor and weapons . . . and sent them here.

He pulled back from the opening. An eerie silence fell. Men began to dismount and spread out across the canyon, searching. Their torches crackled.

"I see a cave!" one man cried, pointing toward the chamber where Laira hid.

"There's another cave here," said another man, pointing toward the pantry where Eranor was awaiting the signal.

"It's time," Jeid whispered.

A rope dangled above him. Jeid gripped it with both hands, clenched his jaw, and gave it a mighty tug.

For a moment nothing happened.

Jeid held his breath.

A creak rose, almost inaudible at first, then growing louder. Dust rained across the cave exit.

Then, with the sound of crashing mountains, a hundred boulders crashed down.

The avalanche slammed into the canyon, shaking the cliffs. Cracks raced across the cave walls around Jeid. Dust and shards of stone blasted into the chamber, nearly blinding him. When he peered outside, he saw the boulders rolling—some larger than men, craggy and mossy, others sharp and small.

Blood splattered the canyon.

Boulders slammed into rocs, snapping their spines, burying the birds. Men screamed. Arms reached out from the rubble. More rocs flew above, helpless to rescue their brethren.

"They're here—find them!" Zerra cried above. "Land on the boulders and into the caves."