‘Faster! Faster!’ Cried Swamy, clutching the front edges of the carpet in tight fists. Her eyes were watery and teeth clattered when the chilly wind, travelling in the opposite direction both wild and ferocious, stabbed her iris. The journal was lying beside her tightly shut.
Cold had fallen everywhere. And aside from it, a misty fragrance from the forest was brought along. An indication, that snow might fall soon. The wind was in a wickedly playful mood for it examined the determination of the travellers or could it be the desperation over conquering nightmares.
After a short interval, it presented obstacles—each difficult than the previous one along the path. Sometimes, it slowed down to the level of the ground, almost im-moving where the carpet hovered inches above the surface
