Suddenly birds exploded out of rock right beside him, launching themselves across the sea. He nearly lost his grip, it startled him so much, but he steeled himself and kept pushing sideways, knowing it must be near. He stretched, reached, wedged his bleeding fingers into cracks. Yes! He could see it now, a small, dark gap in the cliff! As he neared it, the ledge petered out. For a few terrifying steps, he had to balance his toes on any knobs he could find, straining not to slip.

Finally, excruciatingly, his boots reached the safety of the opening, where he could stand.

A hand grabbed his ankle.

Chapter Thirty-nine

Giddon would have fallen if it weren’t for the solid rock on which he stood.

As it was, he screamed. The others above heard the scream and, with natural misunderstanding, started pulling, so that Giddon was briefly stretched between the rope and the viselike grip on his ankle. But then he got his breath back and yelled up to them to stop. “I’m fine,” he shouted. “I’m fine. Give me some slack, and shift to your right.

“Hava?” he said next to the hand on his ankle, even though he knew this couldn’t possibly be Hava, who was far back in the cave, trapped under a ladder. Giddon had a wild, incredulous idea of who this must be. As the sheet rope loosened, he crouched down.

Another hand came out of the opening and grasped his wrist. Giddon saw a hunched form gray with dust and dirt, a scraggly, dark beard. “You’re safe now,” he said in Keepish, peering closer at a man who stared out of the hole with crazed eyes in a bone-thin face. He looked, and smelled, like the most misused, neglected human Giddon had ever seen, and Giddon realized his guess had been wrong. He’d never seen this man before.

“Giddon?” said the man. “Is that you?”

Giddon, stunned, searched the man’s face. It couldn’t be; he was too small, too old. But then a flicker of something flashed in those eyes, amusement, if that was possible, resolving the man’s face into one Giddon recognized. Tears choked Giddon’s throat. He was going to kill Benni Cavenda.

“Katu,” he said.

“Am I hallucinating?” said Katu Cavenda, one of his hands letting go, his finger touching Giddon’s shoulder with a tentative poke, as if he expected a ghost. He looked like a ghost.

“I’m real,” Giddon said. “Let’s get this rope on you and get you out of here.”

“What’s happening?” he said. “Why are you here?” His voice turned into a cry. “There was an explosion! The roof caved in! I’ve been hearing voices!”