The Oracle (Fargo Adventures #11) - Clive Cussler Page 0,72

the girl’s arm and Amal held her hand over the wound. “Not too deep. I’ll patch this up and you’ll be fine.”

With so little cover from the sparse trees on the rocky incline, Remi worried about stopping. But pushing them any farther without a break upped the risk of serious injury. Spying some low-lying shrubs about fifty yards up the trail, she pointed toward them. “We’ll rest there,” she said. Not the ideal location, but better than sitting out in the open.

While the girls huddled together, Amal took one of Nasha’s stolen nails from her backpack and used it to tear strips from the bottom of her shirt for a bandage. Remi searched for a fallen tree limb, finding one about six feet long and the thickness of her wrist.

“Is that for the, uh, walk?” Amal asked when she brought it back. Neither of them had told the girls about the leopard. They had enough to worry about without being stressed about wildlife.

“Multi-use,” Remi said. “A good stick always comes in handy.” She hit one end on the ground, feeling a solid vibration travel up the shaft to her fingers. After removing the smaller branches, she hefted the weight of it in her hand. Smiling to herself, she walked out toward the cliff’s edge to survey the area and plot out their course. If they could find a way down to the meadow, then cross over where the river narrowed, they might be able to cut out the craggy ascent from this side of the mountain. A few feet beyond them, she found a wide fissure in the cliff face leading to a ledge below. From this angle, it looked promising. If they climbed down the fissure, it might open up to a navigable route along that lower ledge. The thought died when she glanced up at the dark clouds and saw how quickly the weather was changing. Rain and rock made for treacherous climbing, especially with novices. Better to go the long way, she thought, returning to the girls.

The poor things, nearly asleep, were covered head to toe with dirt. As much as she wanted to give them more time, she didn’t dare. “Up and at ’em.”

They hauled themselves to their feet. Remi, about to offer words of encouragement, stopped when she heard voices carrying toward them from lower down the slope. Their meager cover would leave them vulnerable. She put her finger to her lips, warning the girls.

Up or down? The choice of which direction turned dire.

She judged the distance to the trees above. They’d never make it in time. The only place was down to the ledge below. “This way,” she whispered, urging them toward the cliff. They balked when she told them they’d have to climb down the narrow channel between the granite slabs. “It looks scary. But it’s easier than you think. You put your hands and feet on one side and push your back against the other, using the pressure to hold yourself up. Like Santa in a chimney.”

Amal stepped to the edge. “I’ve done this before. I’ll show them.”

The younger woman lowered herself between the rocks and worked her way down, clearly experienced at climbing. Even so, she hesitated at the end of the fissure, perhaps gearing up for the several-foot drop to the ledge below. The moment she was safely on the ground, Remi turned to the girls. She was not surprised when Nasha volunteered first, intuitively finding toe- and footholds until she reached the end. Amal was there to help her make the jump onto the ledge. After seeing how easily Nasha managed the climb down, the others quickly followed.

Remi took one of the branches she’d torn from her stick to brush away the footprints near the cliff’s edge and scattered leaves over the top to help disguise them even further. She was about to climb into the fissure when she caught sight of a number of fist-sized rocks that had tumbled down the mountainside near the base of the boulder the girls had rested against.

She quickly arranged them into an arrow aimed at the mountainside route she had considered taking earlier, then handed her walking stick to one of the girls before lowering herself into the crevice. And none too soon. The voices on the trail grew louder.

She dropped to the rocky ledge, grateful to find that the overhang, though not quite a cave—and definitely not tall enough to stand beneath—actually offered some protection from the rain. She guided the