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birds wheeled far out over the waves, and one very sinuous dragon.
We passed through the Great Arch and came at last to the landing and looked downward. It was a
vertiginous prospect, out across a brief, broad stair-the steep drop to the tan-and-black beach far below.
I regarded the ripples in the sand left by the retreating tide, wrinkles in an old man's brow. The breezes
were stronger here, and the damp, salty smell, which had been increasing as we approached, seasoned
the air to a new level of intensity. Coral drew back for a moment, then advanced again.
"It looks a little more dangerous than I'd thought," .she said, after a time. "Probably seems less so
once you're on it."
"I don't know," I replied. "You've never climbed it?"
"Nope," I said. "Never had any reason to."
"I'd think you'd have wanted to, after your father's doomed battle along it."
I shrugged: "I get sentimental in different ways." She smiled. "Let's climb down to the beach. Please."
"Sure," I said, and we moved forward and started. The broad stair took us down for perhaps thirty feet,
then terminated abruptly where a much narrower version turned off to the side. At least the steps
weren't damp and slippery: Somewhere far below, I could see where the stair widened again, permitting
a pair of people to go abreast. For now, though, we moved single file, and I was irritated that Coral had
somehow gotten ahead of me.
"If you'll scrunch over, I'll go past," I told her.
"Why?" she asked. .
"So I can be ahead of you in case you slip."
"That's all right," she replied. "I won't."
I decided it wasn't worth arguing and let her lead:
The landings where the stairway switched back were haphazard affairs, hacked wherever the
contours of the , rock permitted such a turning. Consequently, some descending stretches were longer
than others and our route wandered all over the face of the mountain. The winds were much stronger
now than they were above, and we found ourselves staying as close to the mountain's side as its contours
permitted. Had there been no wind, we probably would have done the same. The absence of any sort of
guard railing made us shy back from the edge. There were places where the mountain's wall overhung us
for a cavelike effect; other places, we followed a bellying of the rock and felt very exposed. My cloak
blew up across my face several times and I cursed, recalling that natives seldom visit historical spots in
their own neighborhoods. I began to appreciate their wisdom. Coral was hurrying on ahead, and I
increased my pace to catch up with her. Beyond her, I could see that there was a landing which signaled
the first turning of the way. I was hoping she'd halt there and tell me she'd reconsidered the necessity for
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this expedition. Hut she didn't. She turned and kept right on going. The wind stole my sigh and bore it to
some storybook cave reserved for the plaints of the imposed-upon.
Still, I couldn't help but look down upon occasion; and whenever I did I thought of my father fighting
his way up along these steps. It was not something I'd care to try-at least, not until I'd exhausted all of the
more sneaky alternatives. I began to wonder how far we were below the level of the palace itself. . . .
When we finally came to the landing from which the stairway widened, I hurried to catch up with
Coral so that we could walk abreast. In my haste, I snagged my heel and stumbled as I rounded the turn.
It was no big deal. . I was able to reach out and stabilize myself against the cliff s face as I jolted forward
and swayed. I was amazed, though, at Coral's perception of my altered gait just on the basis of its sound,
and by her reaction to it. She cast herself backward suddenly and twisted her body to the side. Her
hands came in contact with my arm as she did this, and she thrust me to the side, against the rock.
".All right!" I said, from rapidly emptying lungs. "I'm okay."
She rose and dusted herself off as I recovered.
"I heard-" she began.
"I gather. But I just caught my heel: That's all."
"I couldn't tell."
"Everything's fine. Thanks."
We starred down the stair side by side, but something was changed. I .now harbored a suspicion I
did not like but could not dispel. Not yet, anyway. What I had in mind was too dangerous, if I should
prove correct.
So instead, "The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain," I said.
"What?" she asked. "I didn't understand. . . ."
"I said, `It's a fine day to be walking with a pretty lady.' "
She actually blushed.
Then, "What language did you say it in . . . the first time.
"English," I replied.
"I've never studied it. I told you that when we were talking about Alice."
"I know. Just being whimsical," I answered.
The beach, nearer now, was tiger-striped and shiny in places. A froth of foam retreated along its
slopes while birds cried and dipped to examine the waves' leavings. Sails bobbed in the offing, and a
small curtain of rain rippled in the southeast, far out at sea. The winds had ceased their noise-making,
though they still came upon us with cloak-wrapping force.
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We continued in silence until we had reached the bottom. We stepped away then, moving a few
paces onto the sand.
"The harbor's in that direction," I said, gesturing to my right, westward, "and there's a church off that
way," I added, indicating the dark building where Caine's service had been held and where seamen
sometimes came to pray for safe voyages.
She looked in both directions and also glanced behind us and upward.
"More people headed down," she remarked.
I looked back up and saw three figures near the top of the stairway, but they were standing still, as if
they'd only come down a short distance to try the view. None of them wore Lleweila's colors. . . .
"Fellow sightseers," I said.
She watched them a moment longer, then looked away. "Aren't` there caves along here
somewhere?" she asked.
I nodded to my right.
"That way," I answered. "There's a whole series. People get lost in them periodically. Some are
pretty colorful. Others just wander through darkness. A few are simply shallow openings."
"I'd like to see them," she said.
"Sure, easily done. Let's go." .
I began walking. The people on the stair had not moved. They still appeared to be looking out to
sea. I doubted they were smugglers. It doesn't seem like a daytime occupation for a place where anyone
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