Read Roc And A Hard Place for Free Online Page A

green and blue facets of the cleft.  She had groaned, faintly.
    Metria considered.  Though she had used the night light, she preferred to climb by daylight, and there was not a whole lot of day left.  Should she get involved with this human being, and perhaps get delayed too long?
    'Of course not,' Mentia said.  'You have already wasted enough time discouraging Fracto.  You don't have all day left, you know.’ That decided her.  If her worser half was against it, it must be the right thing to do.  She walked over to the woman.
    “Can I help you?” she inquired.
    The woman lifted her head.  Long dark hair framed a lovely face.  “I hope so,” she said, wincing.  “I sprained my ankle, and don't think I can walk alone.”
    'I knew it!  She's an albatross.  If you help her, you'll never get to the top of the mountain.’ Metria ignored her worser self’s objection, with an effort.
    “Maybe I can help you get home.  Who are you, and where do you live?” She put her hands on the woman's shoulders and helped lift her to her feet.
    “Thank you so much.  I'm Mara.  I was out bird-calling, and got lost in a storm and some sort of weird darkness.  I fell, and couldn't get up, and when it cleared—well, I don't know where I am now.”
    So it had been Metria's fault, because the storm had been after her, and she had used the darkness to oppose it.  She certainly had to help Mara find her way home.  Her conscience would allow nothing less.
    'If you hadn't gotten half-souled, you wouldn't have a conscience!' Mentia griped.
    “Maybe I can help you cross this green foothill mountain, so you can be on the plain,” Metria suggested.  “I'm a demoness, you see, and—”
    “A demoness!” Mara cried, affrighted.
    “Don't worry; I have half a shoe.”
    “Half a what?” Mara inquired, looking down at Metria's feet.
    “Footwear, leather, tongue—” She paused.  “I mean essence, characteristic, quality, animation, spirit—”
    “Soul?”
    “Whatever,” she said crossly.
    Mara was reassured.  “Oh—then you have a conscience, and can be halfway trusted.”
    “Yes.  If I were an unsouled demoness, I wouldn't have bothered with you at all.”
    “True.  What's your name?”
    “Metria.  D. Metria.”
    Mara extended her hand.  “I am glad to know you, Demoness Metria.  But I don't live on a plain, so I don't think going over that green mountain will help.  I normally do my bird calls in the forest and glade, where they are comfortable.
    That's my talent, you know.”
    'Fat lot of use doing bird calls is here,' Mentia sneered.
    Metria made another effort to ignore her.  “Then maybe if we walk along the crevice here—”
    “I suppose,” Mara agreed dubiously.  “But I'm sure I didn't walk far before I hurt my ankle.”
    Metria supported Mara, enabling her to walk reasonably if wincingly well.  They followed the cleft around the slow curve of the mountain.  But all they saw was more mountain.
    “I don't think this is the way,” Metria said.
    “I think you're right,” Mara agreed sadly.  “I don't know how I came to be here.  I must have gotten caught in a magical vortex or something.  Maybe you had better leave me and go on about your business.”
    'Take her up on that!’
    “No, that storm and darkness were because of me, so I should help you get unlost.  All I can think of is to bring you with me to the top of the mountain.  Maybe the Simurgh will help you.”
    “The Simurgh!  Isn't that the big bird who has seen the universe die and be reborn three times?”
    “The same.  I have to perform a service for her.  So if you don't mind coming with me—”
    “Oh, I don't mind!  I'd love to see the Simurgh.  It would be the experience of my life.  But—”
    There is always a “but”! “But you'll have trouble climbing,” Metria finished.
    “Lets see what I can do about that.  Suppose I form myself into a long ladder against the slope; could you climb that?”
    “I