They climbed until the broken shelf and the dead constructs were out of sight.
The ground above the cliff band flattened out onto a sloped ridge where the wind grew keener and the terrain accommodated a resting place without involving a precipice. Lucian called the halt there. Toren needed the binding on his shoulder inspected. Sera's hands were scraped raw. Istra had a bruise blooming along her jaw from an unnamed impact during the fight.
For a time there were only the swallows of the wind, drinking what little water they had left and scanning the lower face of the cliff for another pursuit. None arrived.
Sera settled her back against a low rock and flexed the fingers that ached. "Those shell things. Are they common up here?"
