silt and rubble. Then, suddenly, aloud crack rang out from beneath Storm’s hooves. Tom put a hand on Storm’s neck and they all froze.
“What was
that?”
Tom asked, crouching down. He quickly cleared away some of the dust. His hands scraped against something — it was a piece of slate, neatly overlapped by others surrounding it.
“Roof tiles,” he said, realizing where they were. “Elenna — we’re standing on a roof!”
“Then, this isn’t a hill at all!” Elenna said. She looked up at the mountainside and the bare face of rock covered in angry cracks. “This is a house that’s been buried by a rockslide. It could collapse any minute!”
“Look,” said Tom, pointing over to a shape farther up the hill. It was the top of an archway, the gateway to the mountain trade routes. “I think there’s a whole street buried under this rubble!”
“Come on, let’s get down quickly before we crash right through this roof.” Treading as lightlyas they could, Tom and Elenna led Storm and Silver back down the slope.
Using the roof and archway as marker points, they worked out roughly where the street must have been. They made their way over the rocks and rubble until they found a part of town built into the hillside. The rockslide hadn’t buried these buildings. The houses were grand and tall with wooden fronts, and the streets were neatly paved with cobblestones. Tom looked around him and whistled.
“Looks like a nice part of town,” said Elenna. There weren’t any houses like this in Tom’s village. But the place was deserted. “I hope everyone got to safety.”
Suddenly, Silver looked toward the mountains, sniffing the air. He growled uneasily and started stalking back the way they had come. “What’s wrong, boy?” Elenna took hold of his collar, buthe strained against her grip. Silver never disobeyed Elenna. She frowned and pointed down the street. “We’re going
this
way.” She looked at Tom. “What’s wrong with him?”
But as she spoke, shouts and the sounds of a commotion came from somewhere close by.
Tom looked at her. “Silver must have sensed trouble.”
“Stop, thieves!”
someone shouted. Tom jumped onto Storm and Elenna leaped up behind him. He drew his sword out of one of Storm’s saddlebags and pressed his heels against the horse’s sides. Storm didn’t need telling twice. He bolted off along the cobbled street toward the sounds of trouble.
“Silver isn’t following us!” Elenna cried. She pointed after the wolf, who was running in the opposite direction.
“We’ll go back for him later,” Tom told her. Storm thundered over the cobblestones, making itdifficult for them to hold on. “Right now, someone needs our help.”
They turned into a narrow back alley. Three men with bulging pockets and sacks slung over their shoulders were blocking the way. “Whoa, Storm.” Tom eased his horse to a standstill. “What’s happening here?”
The tallest man noticed Tom’s sword and smiled. “Well, well, a bold, little knight.”
An old man came puffing and panting around the corner, pointing a finger at the three men. “Don’t let them pass!” he cried, leaning heavily against the wall of a house as he caught his breath. “They’re stealing food from the houses!”
“What else can we do?” snapped a small, tubby man, shifting the heavy sack on his shoulder. “We have families to feed.”
“This month’s supplies never came — you know that!” said the tall, thin man next to him. “We need
something
to eat.”
“But those things are not yours to take, Randall!” said the old man sternly. He turned to the short man. “Michael, put them back and take shelter with the others.” The three men looked at one another. Their expressions hardened.
“No, Belco, we have to get away!” cried Michael. “How long before the next rockslide flattens the rest of town, too?”
Tom looked at these men. They didn’t look like robbers. He saw the desperation in
“What was
that?”
Tom asked, crouching down. He quickly cleared away some of the dust. His hands scraped against something — it was a piece of slate, neatly overlapped by others surrounding it.
“Roof tiles,” he said, realizing where they were. “Elenna — we’re standing on a roof!”
“Then, this isn’t a hill at all!” Elenna said. She looked up at the mountainside and the bare face of rock covered in angry cracks. “This is a house that’s been buried by a rockslide. It could collapse any minute!”
“Look,” said Tom, pointing over to a shape farther up the hill. It was the top of an archway, the gateway to the mountain trade routes. “I think there’s a whole street buried under this rubble!”
“Come on, let’s get down quickly before we crash right through this roof.” Treading as lightlyas they could, Tom and Elenna led Storm and Silver back down the slope.
Using the roof and archway as marker points, they worked out roughly where the street must have been. They made their way over the rocks and rubble until they found a part of town built into the hillside. The rockslide hadn’t buried these buildings. The houses were grand and tall with wooden fronts, and the streets were neatly paved with cobblestones. Tom looked around him and whistled.
“Looks like a nice part of town,” said Elenna. There weren’t any houses like this in Tom’s village. But the place was deserted. “I hope everyone got to safety.”
Suddenly, Silver looked toward the mountains, sniffing the air. He growled uneasily and started stalking back the way they had come. “What’s wrong, boy?” Elenna took hold of his collar, buthe strained against her grip. Silver never disobeyed Elenna. She frowned and pointed down the street. “We’re going
this
way.” She looked at Tom. “What’s wrong with him?”
But as she spoke, shouts and the sounds of a commotion came from somewhere close by.
Tom looked at her. “Silver must have sensed trouble.”
“Stop, thieves!”
someone shouted. Tom jumped onto Storm and Elenna leaped up behind him. He drew his sword out of one of Storm’s saddlebags and pressed his heels against the horse’s sides. Storm didn’t need telling twice. He bolted off along the cobbled street toward the sounds of trouble.
“Silver isn’t following us!” Elenna cried. She pointed after the wolf, who was running in the opposite direction.
“We’ll go back for him later,” Tom told her. Storm thundered over the cobblestones, making itdifficult for them to hold on. “Right now, someone needs our help.”
They turned into a narrow back alley. Three men with bulging pockets and sacks slung over their shoulders were blocking the way. “Whoa, Storm.” Tom eased his horse to a standstill. “What’s happening here?”
The tallest man noticed Tom’s sword and smiled. “Well, well, a bold, little knight.”
An old man came puffing and panting around the corner, pointing a finger at the three men. “Don’t let them pass!” he cried, leaning heavily against the wall of a house as he caught his breath. “They’re stealing food from the houses!”
“What else can we do?” snapped a small, tubby man, shifting the heavy sack on his shoulder. “We have families to feed.”
“This month’s supplies never came — you know that!” said the tall, thin man next to him. “We need
something
to eat.”
“But those things are not yours to take, Randall!” said the old man sternly. He turned to the short man. “Michael, put them back and take shelter with the others.” The three men looked at one another. Their expressions hardened.
“No, Belco, we have to get away!” cried Michael. “How long before the next rockslide flattens the rest of town, too?”
Tom looked at these men. They didn’t look like robbers. He saw the desperation in