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Quote by Megan Westfield

“Even if he survived the Sorcerer, there would always be another Sorcerer, bigger and more dangerous than the last. It was just a matter of time until he died the kind of gruesome death that was the very reason people had paralyzing phobias of heights.”

Quote by Megan Westfield

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Lessons in Gravity

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Megan Westfield

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“Whenever we came to a rocky escarpment, she and all her sisters would stop, not at all eager for the challenge. But we had camel drivers with sticks accompanying us; they employed the latter to urge the camels up the rocky escarpments, and the camels reluctantly complied. If the camels were reluctant to climb up the rocky escarpments, they were loath to go down them. In fact, I came to surmise, the reason camels were reluctant to go up the rocky escarpments was because they were loath to go down them. Figuring that the only reason a camel would be loath to go down a rocky escarpment would be fear of slipping and falling, I, too, was loath to go down the rocky escarpments.”

“The incline and height of the rocks increased sharply, making his climb more difficult. He needed his other hand totally free, as he knew his pursuers would as well. He holstered his pistol. He'd gotten more than three- quarters of the way to the top when even two free hands were barely enough to continue upward. The steps be- gan sloping on top, so that there was less and less to stand on. His legs pushed, toes searching for holds, arms pulling, fingers clutching, each new ascent more difficult than the last as the steps began to disappear altogether, until he found himself clinging to a nearly vertical slab of granite. Still he pushed upward, his chest and stomach in constant contact with the rock beneath, his hold growing more tenuous each moment. He looked up. Rock walls soared above him on both sides. He prayed there was somewhere to keep going, because he couldn't see it now. Up and up he climbed, every so often finding a small outcropping to grasp, but having to stretch more for each one, his legs almost dangling free as his boots sought purchase in the rock niches. Several times small rocks he tested for support broke free and clattered down the mountain. They fell, hit, split apart, and hit again, until they made a distant thud at the bottom. He shut his eyes, thinking he might sound like that, only softer. If it got any steeper, he knew, he couldn't hold on any longer.”

“Holy everything that’s holy and even some not-holy things thrown in. There were no words for how vast this big rock of El Cap was. Or that big rock—there was Middle Cathedral Rock. Or that one over there— Sentinel, the Prow, Half Dome. The hugeness of the place ate my brain. I plopped down right there in El Cap Meadows and, mind exploding and now a believer in The Valley, I let it all soak in.”