The mage’s garden was a narrow strip of green far below, protruding
 
 from the side of the plateau. Around the base of the tower, it expanded into
 
 well-kept grounds, but on every side, there was a steep drop-off into the deep
 
 valley.
 
 A chilly breeze swept up from the mist-shrouded ground below, and my
 
 skin prickled. “I’m not jumping down there.”
 
 “Of course not. We’ll climb,” Jaxson said as Amal swung herself over the
 
 side of the roof and dropped to a narrow wall at the cliff’s edge. Then she
 
 climbed down.
 
 So this is how my crazy friends and I die in Italy, I thought.
 
 Jaxson dropped down on the wall and looked back up. “I’ll
 
 climb down
 
 beside you. Don’t worry, the rock here is porous, and there are plenty of
 
 handholds.”
 
 My palms suddenly felt like seaweed, and my stomach tumbled. But I
 
 wasn’t going to let him seem me squirm.
 
 “I can’t believe I’m going to do this.”
 
 I forced my claws out, sank them into some cracks in the top of the stone
 
 wall like Amal had done, and then levered myself over the edge.
 
 It took ten heart-rending minutes to get down, and when my feet finally
 
 hit the ground, I uttered a quiet prayer of thanks and vowed to never climb
 
 anything ever again.
 
 My fingers throbbed with pain, and I had to wrap my arms around myself
 
 to stop them from trembling. “What now?”
 
 “We look for a way in,” Amal whispered.
 
 Tendrils of predawn mist wound around the garden. I could make out
 
 ornamental trees and flower beds, and a little gazebo in the distance. A series
 
 of busts were mounted on the low stone perimeter wall. I peeked over the
 
 edge, and my stomach dropped with a fresh twinge of vertigo. It was just
 
 darkness and mist below.