The girl opened her mouth to ask another question.
Before she could, one of the caravan guards noticed the stranger.
The man froze.
His hand immediately moved toward the weapon at his belt.
Others followed his gaze.
Conversations died.
One by one, heads turned.
The strange pale woman stood silently at the edge of the canyon while darkness seemed to gather around her feet.
The girl suddenly realized she was the only person who wasn't afraid.
The woman looked toward the approaching adults.
Nobody seemed eager to get closer, and there was a cold around the woman that got stronger.
"Who are you?" One man asked.
The woman did not answer.
Another stepped forward.
"Where did you come from?"
Still no answer.
The woman simply looked back at the canyon.
The silence stretched long enough to become uncomfortable.
The little girl wondered if the woman had even heard them.
"If you mean no harm, then answer."
She glanced at them, and the little girl thought she might finally answer.
Instead, the woman looked back across the canyon.
"A little distance is no problem."
Nobody knew what that meant.
Then she stepped off the cliff.
People were prepared to scream, but it wasn't necessary.
But the little girl gasped as the woman seemed to float.
She drifted outward into empty air as casually as if she were walking across a village road.
The entire caravan stared.
The woman continued moving farther and farther from the cliff.
And then she reached the other side.
She landed very lightly on the far edge and turned to look back at them.
Nobody spoke.
The canyon that would cost them days or weeks to travel around had been crossed in moments.
"It is not far."
A few people exchanged looks.
Not far?
The little girl looked down into the endless darkness below and decided that the woman and everyone else had very different ideas about distance.
Then the woman raised her staff.
Dark mist curled around it.
The strange pieces of metal embedded within the wood began to glow.
The ground trembled.
A low rumble echoed through the canyon.
People stumbled.
Chunks of stone broke free from both cliffs.
The rocks rose into the air.
Great slabs tore themselves from the canyon walls and floated upward.
The sound grew louder and louder.
The stones drifted toward one another above the abyss.
Then they slammed together.
A bridge began to form.
Not a narrow path.
Not a fragile crossing.
A massive bridge made of solid stone spanned the gap.
More rock flowed into place.
The surface widened.
Supports twisted together beneath it.
Within moments, a road of stone stretched from one side of the canyon to the other.
The rumbling ceased.
And the caravan stared.
Several adults began smiling for the first time in days as it seemed that their prayers had been answered.
They could cross.
They wouldn't have to spend weeks searching for a way around.
The woman stood at the far end of the bridge, leaning slightly on her staff.
One of the caravan leaders took a cautious step forward.
Then another.
Soon several people were approaching the bridge.
The woman watched them.