agree to this!”
“You and me both,” Pol admitted. “I’m running out of fingernails.” He held out hands scraped and bloodied by gripping sharp stone, and grinned at his cousin. “But it’s worth it! Take a look!”
Maarken seemed to inhale the sky and trees and cliffs, his gaze lingering as Pol’s did on the multicolored wild-flowers clinging to the rocks. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed. “But I don’t dare look down—last time I did I nearly lost my breakfast. I don’t think I’ll be able to climb my way out of bed tomorrow! But you’re right, it’s worth it.” He peered across the canyon, and pointed. “Is that your father and Pandsala?”
Pol waved and nearly lost his balance. Maarken steadied him with a firm grip on his shoulder. “Thanks,” he said shakily. “D’you think they can see us?”
“That blue jacket of yours must be visible for half a measure.”
“As if you’re inconspicuous!” Pol scoffed, flicking a finger against his cousin’s bright red. Another tug on the rope alerted him, and he set off again. After half a morning of this he was sure of what he was doing, but the ridges cut into the stone had been made for a full-grown person, not a boy coming up on his fifteenth winter. He had to stretch quite a bit sometimes to reach the holds, and his shoulders and legs were beginning to ache in earnest. “When the hell am I going to grow?” he muttered as he scrabbled for a niche and barely reached it.
He was also eager to grow in ways other than height. Over the past few days Pol had sat in on talks with men who were nominally his vassals, and the ambassadors and emissaries from other princedoms. Rohan’s warning that a prince must listen to some very tedious people had been forcibly demonstrated; at times, Pol could barely keep his eyes open. But it was amusing to watch these people look back and forth from him to Rohan—one the real owner of Princemarch and the other its real ruler. They couldn’t seem to decide if they ought to be seriously concerned with Pol’s opinions or treat him with a kind of half-amused indulgence: the boy pretending to be a prince. It would be nice to be older, he mused as he sought for the next toehold, to be Maarken’s age and Maarken’s height, with Maarken’s easy authority.
He had just secured himself to the next ring when a metallic clang hit rock. His head turned, and something gray and slightly rusty flew past him down into the canyon. Looking up, he saw Maeta frozen on the cliff face, arms and legs outspread.
“Maeta!”
“Check the ring, Pol. Hurry.”
He inspected the iron circle and terror stopped his heart for a moment. The spike anchoring the ring had worked loose. If stressed, it probably would hold no weight greater than his own, and might not even support him for very long.
“It’s coming out, isn’t it?” Maeta called softly, her voice slightly breathless.
He explored the joining of spike and stone. “Somebody’s picked at it!”
“I thought as much.” She hesitated, then said, “My rope’s frayed, too.”
“The man ahead of you must’ve—”
“I don’t think so. Not and risk his own life in the process. Pol, untie the rope connecting us.”
He realized what she was asking. “No! If you lose hold, you’ll fall!”
“And if I fall with the rope tied to the ring and to you, I’ll take you with me. Do as I say.”
“Maeta—I can climb up to you—”
“No!” The force of her exclamation shifted her body, and pebbles trickled down from the slender purchase gained by her left boot. “Listen to me, kinsman,” she said more softly. “This is no accident. The ring that just fell had been dug loose. I was a fool not to see it before. I apologize, my prince.”
“Maeta, just hold still. I’ll come up to you. Neither of us will fall—”
“Damn it, untie the rope! I don’t intend to fall! But if I do, you and Maarken won’t be able to hold me, not with that ring ready to come out of the rock! Do it, Pol! The longer you take, the longer I have to stay as I am.”
He choked back another protest and did as told. Maarken, still on the ledge below, called up, “Stay put, both of you! I’ll get the rope around the rocks!”
“Maarken—don’t let her fall!”
Although what he thought his cousin might do was beyond him. His gaze fixed on Maeta, willing her to find a more