’It is not far now,’ Pran told them. ‘Only a stone’s throw.’
Deborah was beginning to wonder just how far the Elf considered a stone’s throw to be, when the ground abruptly levelled and an open space appeared before them. Pulling herself with some difficulty over the last ridge of rock, she stood on level ground once more, trying to catch her breath, and waiting for her stiff, aching thighs to recover.
Thankfully, she noticed that the road was wide and sloped upwards gradually to the left as it wound its way to the top.
As they began making their way once more, Éha asked Pran, ‘If this place is Sanctuary, then why may I not transform and seek the others?’
‘Because,’ Pran told her, ‘they may have seen us already. And if they have seen you with us, they may not trust you.’
‘But I am Pixie!’ she said indignantly.
‘Yes, and I am an Elf,’ Pran said, ‘and look at what Elves have done. Some are good, and some are bad. Sometimes it is not so easy to tell the difference. Even I have oft’times been misled. Don’t be so impatient. We will meet them soon enough.’