“Sivich’s riders,” Pixen said. “Heading for the west portal.” Teb shivered. “They’ll come in there, too; they’ll be all over the caves.” “They won’t get in here,” Pixen repeated. “But can’t they look in through the slits? Can’t they see us?” “No man can climb that sheer wall. The slits were meant for arrows once, during the five wars, long-seeking arrows trained on the sea path below, and they could not be reached by invaders. Now they are only for light and air, but still no man can climb to them.” “Then—then they’ll wait at both portals,” Teb said, beginning to feel hopeless. “Wait for me to come out.” “There is another way out. A way no soldier knows.” Pixen paused to scratch the side of his long, thin face against his leg. Then he looked up at Teb with a bright gleam of mischief. “You are small—you can manage the fox burrow to the south. It comes out far below the west portal and is well hidden among tumbled boulders and brush.
