It was approaching the middle of the night when Syman spotted the glow of a campfire ahead on the trail. Raucous laughter drifted lightly on the wind and Syman turned around and they retreated back up the trail. Backtracking for a while, they came to a fork in the trail and turned south. The narrow trail wound through the forest and started climbing. Being unfamiliar with the area, Syman could only follow the trail and hope that they came to an intersection that would allow them to turn westward once again, but the trail continued southward and climbed steadily. The soil turned rocky as they climbed and they began seeing glimpses of the starry sky as they continued to ascend the trail. The trail began to switchback and Syman realized that they were climbing out of the valley and were not likely to find a connecting trail until they either reached the top of whatever they were climbing or they descended the other side.

“I think we ought to find a place to sleep,” suggested Syman. “I am sure that we are probably south of the city now and we need some height to watch the road. In the morning we will be able to see where we are.”

Lyra was sore from riding and welcomed the stop. She quickly agreed and Syman began searching in vain for a suitable campsite. The trail had grown quite steep since they had agreed to stop and the night sky was completely visible to one side, while the other side was a wall of solid rock. The path consisted of small rocks and Syman had almost given up finding a campsite when he spotted an overhang in the rock wall. It was not a cave, but the overhang would offer some protection should the weather turn to rain.

They halted and dismounted and led the horses under the overhang where Syman had found a protrusion in the rock to tie the reins to. The ground was quite pebble-strewn and they laid blankets on the ground and slept on top of them.