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“
Why
would
they
call
a
worm
?
”
Jessica
asked
.
A
breath
of
fear
touched
his
mind
,
and
he
forced
himself
to
turn
away
from
his
mother
,
to
look
up
the
cliff
.
“
We
’
d
better
find
a
way
up
there
before
daylight
.
”
He
pointed
.
“
Those
poles
we
passed
—
there
are
more
of
them
.
”
She
looked
,
following
the
line
of
his
hand
,
saw
the
poles
—
wind
-
scratched
markers
—
made
out
the
shadow
of
a
narrow
ledge
that
twisted
into
a
crevasse
high
above
them
.
“
They
mark
a
way
up
the
cliff
,
”
Paul
said
.
He
settled
his
shoulders
into
the
pack
,
crossed
to
the
foot
of
the
ledge
and
began
the
climb
upward
.
Jessica
waited
a
moment
,
resting
,
restoring
her
strength
;
then
she
followed
.
Up
they
climbed
,
following
the
guide
poles
until
the
ledge
dwindled
to
a
narrow
lip
at
the
mouth
of
a
dark
crevasse
.
Paul
tipped
his
head
to
peer
into
the
shadowed
place
.
He
could
feel
the
precarious
hold
his
feet
had
on
the
slender
ledge
,
but
forced
himself
to
slow
caution
.
He
saw
only
darkness
within
the
crevasse
.
It
stretched
away
upward
,
open
to
the
stars
at
the
top
.
His
ears
searched
,
found
only
sounds
he
could
expect
—
a
tiny
spill
of
sand
,
an
insect
brrr
,
the
patter
of
a
small
running
creature
.
He
tested
the
darkness
in
the
crevasse
with
one
foot
,
found
rock
beneath
a
gritting
surface
.
Slowly
,
he
inched
around
the
corner
,
signaled
for
his
mother
to
follow
.
He
grasped
a
loose
edge
of
her
robe
,
helped
her
around
.
They
looked
upward
at
starlight
framed
by
two
rock
lips
.
Paul
saw
his
mother
beside
him
as
a
cloudy
gray
movement
.
“
If
we
could
only
risk
a
light
,
”
he
whispered
.
“
We
have
other
senses
than
eyes
,
”
she
said
.
