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“I-I think our minds played a trick on us. I don’t see anything anywhere.” His words were half true. Of course they hadn’t seen anything suspicious, but how could they see anything clearly in the fog?

Aska smiled nervously. “I hope you’re right, Miltin. I don’t like this place at all. Remember what Skylion told us? The Sklarkills could be sneaking right behind-”

“Stop! Stop! Let’s not make the situation harder than it already is.”

They fell silent again. Every so often a frightening shadow would appear in the distance, only to be revealed as a twisted dead tree or an uneven lump of rock deposited there by avalanches long ago.

No wind blew on the very top of the mountains, and no trees rustled their leaves. In truth there were no leaves to rustle, for the only trees were stiff conifers and dead ones as dry and old as the mountains themselves. No grass grew, only thick carpets of moss covering the rocky ground. The moist air caressed the land with its icy fingers, leaving drops of water behind. There were waterlogged depressions in the earth, some as small as a plate and some as large as a basin, which were like countless still mirrors reflecting the fog. No ripple ever came to their surface; nobird disturbed them.

Minutes went by, and Aska and Miltin soared over a ravine, a sight that was both horrifying and breathtaking. Though the mist did not allow them to see the entire chasm, the edges and the feeling of emptiness were enough.

Aska suddenly tensed. Miltin glanced quickly around. “What is it?”

“There’s…well, a rhythmic sound, coming closer…”

“What? I didn’t hear a thing. Maybe it’s just your imagination-”

Aska quickly cut the robin off. “No, stop beating your wings like a madbird. Fly slowly. Now can you hear it?” Aska’s face was strained with fear.

Miltin’s eyes grew bigger. “Yes, quite clearly. Why, they’re saying…”

There was chanting in the distance. It got louder and louder and soon surrounded the two travelers, echoing in the mist.

“Sklarkills! Sklarkills! Kill, kill, kill! Give us your treasures or you’ll die!”

Miltin beat his wings faster than ever. But there was no way out; the strange birds had encircled them thoroughly, unnoticed because of the fog. The bandits closed in on them.

“We don’t have any treasures,” Aska shouted.

“Sklarkills! Sklarkills! Kill, kill, kill! Give us whatever you have!” they yelled darkly. Now Aska could see that the Sklarkills were large jackdaws who had shimmering snakeskin vests with swirling green patterns on them. Some even wore headbands to match.

Miltin took a silent count. His eyes widened with worry. “Dozens of them at least. We’re hopelessly outnumbered, Aska! Our only way out is up.”

“But the air is thin up there! We could suffocate!”

“It’s all we can do.” Miltin’s face was grim. “Here. A saber to protect yourself with. I’ll be okay with a rapier. Don’t worry if we get separated. Just go!”

The two birds armed themselves and darted up through layers of fog. Sklarkill jackdaws followed, bellowing in anger, trying to block their way. They thrust long spears at the two travelers. One of the spears tore Miltin’s carrying pack. Supplies spilled out, and Miltin was thrown off-balance. Down he spun, into the mob of the eager jackdaws. The Sklarkills stabbed and pierced him with their spears, threatening to close in. Miltin whirled his rapier furiously, blocking as many spears as possible. Yet he couldn’t hold out for long. Aska knocked a Sklarkill jackdaw back with her saber and came thundering down. She slashed with all her might, roaring into her enemies’ faces, using her small size to duck the wild stabs of the spears. Then Miltin regained his balance, and they struggled to fly upward.

“Hold your breath and fly higher!” Miltin urged, wind whistling in his feathers. “Higher!” They flew up and up. The Sklarkills followed, still chanting their threatening song, “Kill, kill! Sklarkills, kill!” No matter how high they went, the Sklarkills always followed. When Aska gasped for breath, her lungs felt as though they were on fire.

“Down. Now!” Miltin whispered dryly. The two plunged down, waving their weapons as they dived. Aska was not seriously wounded; she had only a small slash on her back and tiny nicks and sores. Miltin, on the other wing, was bleeding all over. With the speed of their dive, the two managed to evade the mob. Yet it was only a temporary escape. The Sklarkills quickly followed them.

“Aska,” Miltin gasped, “follow me! Quick!”

“What? Why are we-”

“Don’t ask now. You’ll see later. Just follow!” The robin flew with a burst of speed back the way they had come. Aska zoomed closely behind, a little confused. Why were they heading back when they were almost on the other side of the mountains? The Sklarkill band was in hot pursuit.

Miltin glanced back. “Take this, jackdaws!” he hollered, and snatched a large bag of grain out of his torn pack. He threw it as far as he could.

Immediately, the jackdaws flew to the bag, fighting for it, yelling to one another in hoarse voices, “Mine! Mine!”

Miltin kept flying. Suddenly the ravine again opened up beneath the robin and the blue jay. Rapidly Miltin and Aska turned and plunged into it. They disappeared in the mist. “Keep to the cliffs and sides!” Miltin whispered. “Quick! The Sklarkills will catch up soon!”

Miltin’s eyes darted to and fro. He kept glancing at the jagged cliffs that were the borders of the ravine.

“Here!” Miltin whispered urgently. He flew headlong into a small cranny in the cliff. It was just big enough for him and Aska. Inside it was dry and dusty. Dark too.

Now the fog worked to Aska and Miltin’s advantage. The Sklarkills could not see where their victims had gone. The blue jay and the robin huddled together, listening intently, until the last of the threatening chants faded in the distance.

Miltin breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s over,” he said.

“Watch out!” Aska cried.

A skinny young Sklarkill, more persistent than the rest of his band, had been hunting along the ravine for any place the two fugitives might have hidden. Now he poked his head and one foot into the cranny, snapping at Miltin’s tail. “Give me what you have!” he screeched.

Miltin spun around, rapier in claw. The jackdaw let out a horrible shriek as the blade crashed down between his eyes. He slumped and started to slip backward out of the hole, the weight of his paralyzed body pulling him down.

But as he fell, his claw hooked on to Miltin’s tunic. The jackdaw plummeted down through the swirling, misty air, dragging Miltin with him.

“Aska!” The cry of the robin hung in the air. It was followed by a sickening thud.

Miltin awoke, pain grasping every part of his body. Even opening his eyes was painful. He slowly craned his neck and looked around. He was in a cave! To his right was the cave entrance; to his left were a small fire and Aska.

He groaned as the soreness stung again. “What happened, Aska? Where am I? I hardly remember anything except that I fell…”

Aska nodded. “Yes, you fell, yelling my name. My heart was in my throat! I couldn’t possibly bear to fly down to see you smashed by the force of that fall.”

Miltin smiled weakly. “Well, you did.”

“I did. You were not smashed at all! How happy I was to find you alive, in one piece! You landed on that Sklarkill. I moved you to this cave, which is at the bottom of the ravine. Then it rained. Look, it’s only a small drizzle now.”

“But…I’ll bet that our rations are gone too.”

Aska sadly nodded.

Silently, the two listened to the light, whispering rain.