quickly stifled by the sound of over a hundred wings. Rising from the foyada was an entire colony of cliff racers and they were out for blood. The blasted thing had led me right to their nest and sacrificed itself with the intent of feeding me to its brood. It was a trap. The damned things had become much too clever. Knowing this was likely the end, I jumped down from the silt strider and hit the back of its leg with the