We broke camp and left swiftly and quietly the next morning. The sun was warm as we marched, but there was a cold autumn wind blowing most of the day that made the situation more uncomfortable than it already was. At the edge of the Willows' meadow the forest continued again, thick and full of life. But as the hours past the trees began to thin out and become smaller, more gnarled and old. The woods fell silent, and we realized suddenly as we walked that there were no longer any birds singing, nor any birds or other animals to be seen. This unsettled Edwyn most of all, and he began to lag behind. The cliffs of the mountain rose up on our left in sheets of overlapping, barren gray rock. The soil eroded under our feet, growing thinner and more rocky. The trees fell to twisted, leafless stumps, as gray as the cliffs and nearly as dead. Finally, only a few hardy mosses and lichens persisted on the rocks, and even those grew fewer and smaller. We passed then from the last dead twig of the forest into a vast field of polished white stones and boulders, walled on the left by the massive, toothy spires of the cliffs, the lair of the Cockatrice. No living thing existed there. It was wholly, and utterly, dead.
Edwyn slowed, and stopped in his tracks. There was as much dread in his eyes then, as he surveyed the blasted field of rock, as there ever was in darkest pit of the dungeon. "Listen! Look! This is wrong, Al. This-this is evil. I didn't expect this."
"It was your idea. We're in the open: let's keep moving."
"Wait," he looked back at the forest, "Are you sure about this? Maybe� we should just get away from here. I need to get away from this place. I didn't know it was like this. Are you sure you need those statues? It does seem a little morbid, you know."
"We've been over that. This was your idea, Edwyn."
"Well, you already dragged us out here. I suppose it's to late to change our minds?"
"Yes. I didn't come all the way out here for nothing, Edwyn. I'm not going to turn and run now. Are you coming?"
Edwyn looked annoyed suddenly, and said, "You know what your problem is, Al? You don't know when to be afraid. As if you're invincible or something! You know, if I hadn't convinced those rats to lead us out of the dungeon, we never would have found our way out. If it weren't for me, you'd probably still be wandering around down there, and you'd probably be dead! Do you have any idea how hard it is to convince dungeon rats to lead you toward light?"
"You might be dead if it weren't for you, Edwyn, I would have found another way out. But don't think that I don't appreciate it. That's beside the point. I know this place is dead, and evil, but consider that if the Cockatrice were dead the forest might return here. You wanted to slay the Cockatrice and get the treasure and that's what we're here to do. If we don't, who will? It was your idea."
Edwyn glanced back at the forest again and then reluctantly looked forward into the desolate field. After a moment he said, "Okay, I know. You're right. You know as well as I do that there aren't many monsters in the world � not real monsters. Very few things are born doing evil just because they are and that's all they can ever be. Even sea-monsters can be reasoned with � occasionally. There's the Undead, maybe, but they were people once.
But this thing, He is one of the rare few. Whether by nature or choice, whether He can help it or not, He is a monster. And we have to destroy Him. It's still my idea. Let's do this."
As we marched, the sun was just sinking below the jagged cliffs and a pale, lingering twilight was cast on the wasteland. Save the fiery shafts of sun still streaming through the cracks in the cliff above, the rock field took on a blue-white sheen, as though it were lit by an impossibly bright moon, or it were on the moon. It was desert, but there were no sun-bleached skeletons as one might expect to see in such a place. Rather, there were strewn about, the remains of creatures in the form of stone statues. Most were broken or crumbled and lay in pieces, half buried in the gravel. Others were so weathered that their features were indistinguishable, and even the species of many was beyond recall.
"Is this where you found the ones at your house?" said Edwyn.
"Those were lucky finds, farther out. I have never ventured so deep into this place before," I said.
