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 Llewella’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 might wander by. Still, I was pleased that my faculty for suspicion was growing. It seemed appropriate in light of recent events. The object of my greatest suspicion, of course, was walking beside me, turning driftwood with the toe of her boot, scuffing bright pebbles, laughing — but there was nothing I was ready to do about it at the moment. Soon…

She took my arm suddenly.

“Thanks for bringing me,” she said. “I’m enjoying this.”

“Oh, I am, too. Glad we came. You’re welcome.”

This made me feel slightly guilty, but if my guess were wrong no harm would be done.

“I think I would enjoy living in Amber,” she remarked as we went along.

“Me, too,” I replied. “I’ve never really done it for any great length of time.”