From the first dawn light until dusk’s radiant afterglow she had been sitting cross-legged and unmoving on the thatched palm-leaf roof, surveying the cliffs above. As the sun had wheeled slowly across the sky she had watched the shadows shift and change, revealing the structure of the crags and crevices, and planned her ascent. With full dark she stood, legs complaining only slightly, and dropped down onto the sand. She set about building a fire, though more for something to occupy her suddenly nervous mind than from any real need for heat or light. The sheltered cove and the old lean-to had been her sanctuary for weeks now, but she had things to do in the outside world, and the water was rising.