by Andre Norton
Keris saw the sweat beading Vorick’s face below his falcon-masked helm as he stepped from firm rock onto nothingness and then began a slow descent. The others followed one by one. Keris had reshouldered his pack and Jasta was waiting. But—he turned his head in search of the giant. He was not of this world; could some such magic as this defeat him entirely? Jasta might aid, though there was little either of them could do, even together, if that huge body took a misstep.
“Can—can you see?” Keris asked, afraid of what the answer would be—justly. For Gruck shook his head. However, he was fingering a packet on his belt and from that drew forth a coil of what looked like silver spun nearly as fine as thread.
He stood with it in his hand for a full breath or two. Then Keris swallowed twice and found that he could say what he must.
“If Jasta wears a leash of that”—he indicated the wire—“and I also hold, then can we move? Jasta sees the road.”
Gruck looked to the Renthan. You offer this, four-footed brother? His mind-speech was hesitant.
*A loop for the neck.* The Renthan approached him, close enough for such to be set before his saddle. *Then against the cliff face for both of you. If I see any obstruction, you shall know in time.*
Thus the three of them formed the rearguard—most of the others a good space ahead now. Keris wished he could shut his eyes. Yet his sight held determinedly to that surface which was not there. Why such a road had ever been laid out he could not imagine, unless it was meant for a far more efficient barrier than any wall he had ever seen. That the animals were not affected by it was the travelers’ only salvation as the humans crawled down that way that was not. This road was such a manifestation of Power as even Keris, who had grown up surrounded by varying degrees of the talent, had never seen. Plainly, as if they looked up to see some curse hung over them, they must deal with this pathway that even a witch could not see. He did not forget how the tools of both Mouse and Destree had proven useless.
When they reached the foot of the cliff, the animals were as fresh as if they had only been ridden for a canter down a pleasant road. But the humans, from Mouse to the giant Gruck, subsided suddenly to the ground as if their legs had been stricken useless, most of them determinedly turning their backs on the way they had come.
Keris was quickly aware of one thing. Even the exertion and stress of that descent did not settle on him as suddenly as a blanket of humid heat did now. It would seem that they had descended from the normal world into one which was totally unknown. He heard a cry and turned his head.
Coming in great bounds which made him shudder was the great black cat Destree called Chief, who had been recently not much in evidence, as he went hunting for more than the fare which satisfied the rest of the party. His last leap took him hurtling through the air into Destree’s arms, and she clutched him as if he were a treasure lost and found again.
This second coming of Chief seemed to break their stupor. They began to get to their feet and turn to view the way south. What they faced was the thickest wall of tangled and interwoven growth that Keris had ever seen. From it wafted strange unwholesome odors of vegetation decaying over centuries undisturbed. There was movement among the vines and branches which suggested a concentration of life, though they caught no sight of any body.
Destree felt Gruck move up beside her. He stood, his hands curved near his belt, his head up, his large nostrils stretched to their greatest extent, as if he could foretell through scent alone which might lay in wait there.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jungle Passage, Unknown South
“W ell”—Vorick stood hands on hips surveying the densely massed green before him—“short of swinging a good forester’s axe, there’s no hacking a way through that!”
“To say nothing,” Denever said, “about what may be mindin’ some business thereabouts and will not take kindly to strangers crashin’ in.”
However, the movements they had noted when they had first come to this narrow open space at the foot of the cliff no longer appeared to trouble the foliage. The heavy humidity made it difficult to draw a deep breath and when one did, the faint smell of rot was something that Keris, at least, had never met with before.
Destree, Chief weaving about her legs once more, moved up to face the same green wall a little apart from the others. The open space which gave them room for movement was cramped, and the Torgians showed openly a nervous distrust for this shrouded land which must shadow everyone entering it.
She fingered her amulet. It remained lifeless. If the Lady had an answer to their problem, She was not yet ready to share it. At present their hopes were pinned upon the falcons, which had taken once more to scouting, west and east, along the top level of the cliff down which they had just made their way.
If there could be any break, any chance of penetrating this thickly grown land, the birds alone might sight it. She stooped, and, for the comfort of feeling him close, she picked up Chief. He speedily draped himself about her shoulders, his prick-eared head brushing the braids of her hair. However, there was no purr to sound reassurance. Liara slipped between two of the mounts and joined her.
“This is a land not meant for us!” she said.
“Yet it is one we must face,” Destree returned flatly.
She glanced around. Their packs were in a pile by the cliff wall and there the Lady Eleeri was busy sorting out meager portions of supplies. All which they might need to nourish their bodies might indeed lie ahead in that green gloom but, knowledgeable as the Voice was, she could sight no plant—without venturing closer than she wished—which could be added safely to their rations.
It was Gruck who passed her and the Alizondern girl now, advancing with the slow steps of one scouting enemy territory toward the outer edge of that wall. Still afar from touching distance of the growth, he came to a halt, his feet slightly apart to balance his weight as if he faced some possible battle opponent.
Then his hand flicked up and out, and something Destree could only see as a flash through the air aimed for the thick stem of a thing which could be either an oversized unopened bud or a tightly curled knot of leaves.
The giant’s cast caught it fairly and he jerked it toward them. There was a moment when they saw that thin line, nearly invisible as it was, become taut and then the sharp sound of a crack and the giant’s catch came sailing back through the air. He avoided it with an agile twist so that it landed on the stone, its arrival drawing the attention of the others to circle the thing.
None of them, even Gruck, made any attempt to touch it. In the first place its size was such that Destree could only compare it to one of the prize melons shown by landworker Wukin last season. In color it was as blandly green as the rest of the walling trees, vines, and bushes.
But as it lay on the stone where it had landed with such force, that green began to change. Like veins there appeared a network of thick, upstanding lines across it. Those were first pinkish and then grew ever darker—like watered blood.
Chief spat and suddenly voiced a howl right in Destree’s ear, nearly deafening her for an instant. Vorick sighted upon it with the spear he chanced to be holding.
Destree heard the thump of hooves: the three Keplians and Jasta were now pushing their way into the circle of watchers.
Gruck made a complicated twist of the wrist and the thin line he held was free of the pod. Now there was a shifting in that. One end was splitting open into sections, and those cracked wider and wider apart.
A whiff of musky, sourish odor arose as the two top sections suddenly arose straight up. Again there was movement, as out of the remains of the pod crawled unsteadily what first appeared to be something close to the rock snakes Destree knew well, save this was much thicker in its midbody—a body with seeming scales the same color as the trees ahead.
The thing raised a snakelike head in which were set ovals which perhaps served it for eyes. Then it opened a mouth large enough to nearly split that head in two, displaying fangs, from the
two large fore of which dripped reddish liquid.
Having left the remains of the pod, it lay on the rock for a short space. None of those watching made any move toward it. Then that thick hump on its back split in turn, became wings so nearly transparent that only a pattern of webbing might be truly seen. Keris recognized one of the shadows from that place beyond the cliff—this was a flying lizard.
Chief leaped without warning from Destree’s shoulder, leaving deep scratches. He crouched now in his fighter’s stance, and the thing was certainly not completely blind, as it swung around to face the cat.
“No!” Destree moved, but not as fast as Liara, who stood a fraction closer. The Alizondern girl’s hands closed on the cat and he twisted and turned, trying now to vent his rage upon her.
“No!” Destree near shouted now. “Let it be!”
She swung her amulet between the fighting cat and the lizard thing. The latter’s head seemed to rise a fraction higher. Then its mouth snapped closed and the wings fanned the air. Moving with a speed which moments before the watchers would not have believed possible, it scuttled in the direction of the jungle. Its wings spread and it took off and out, hidden in a moment by a tangle of vines.
Destree pointed to those reddish drops still glistening on the stone where it had lain. “Poison,” she warned.
“So now we have trees which give birth to poisonous flying things,” Krispin said. He stopped, picked up a stone, and tossed it to cover the stain before grinding his heel upon it. “How did you know?” he demanded directly of Gruck. “Or was it by chance only that you showed us this new possible disaster?”
It called. The giant’s thought was simple. It was time to be free—though that it did not say. Only that it called.
Lord Romar gave a small, harsh laugh. “We must take it to mind not to answer such appeals again, large friend. Also”—he looked back to the jungle—“who can tell what else may possibly entrap the unwary?”
No one answered him, for out of the air sounded the cries of the falcons, and their bonded brothers were quick to receive them, standing quiet in that communication the rest could not understand. Vorick reported first.
“There is no possible opening for perhaps two days’ journey or more to the east.”
However, Farwing had better news, perhaps some hours’ travel to the west a river issued out of the cliff face—perhaps thus did the lake in the safe valley drain. It straightaway entered the jungle and its waters might well offer a road of sorts. At least the travelers would not have to cut a way in, for the waters had already done that for them. And it pointed due south, in the direction they all knew they must go.
The narrow strip of open rock was rough and they divided some supplies for the Torgians to transport. Not even the Falconers rode—though their birds were on the saddle perches.
In fact, as they sorted once more through supplies the Lady Eleeri and the Keplians gathered together and Jasta sought out Keris.
*Battle brother,* the Renthan hailed him, *it will be share and share alike. You wear a pack—can I do less? For you are a warrior even as I.*
Apparently the Keplians had come to a similar decision, for they allowed Eleeri and Romar, but them alone, to secure packs on their backs.
With Krispin in the lead, harking to Farwing, who picked up landmarks, they started out. They went slowly, for none of them had as yet completely thrown off the effects of that ordeal of walking on air. It might not have strained their bodies, but the demands of nerve control laid upon them had been heavy.
The strip of clear space at the foot of the cliff widened slowly as they went, giving them room to move in a tighter body. But they could see nothing more than the high stone to the right and the waiting menace of green to their left. Nor did they reach the promised river until dusk was well advanced. Keep going, Keris thought, because they had to have the promise of it made truth.
In spite of the growing dark, they could see that where the water flowed from the cliff face it was clear and none of them, human or animal, refused to drink. But as the water advanced toward that tunnel in the jungle, it grew murky. Across its surface danced specks of green, as of sparks thrown off from a fire.
They set up their rough camp and shared out supplies thinly. The four-footed members of the party fared better than the humans, as they cropped eagerly that grass spreading up the riverbank.
“Lady.” Lord Romar came up to where Mouse stood a little apart, her hands fast clasped about her jewel. “What advice do you have for us?”
She did not look at him as she answered. “Lord Romar, you have also the talent and it has been tried in desperate fires. You have what burden lies upon us all now.”
“To go on,” he replied in a low voice. “But even a fool would mistrust a march through these waters.”
“There will be a way.” Mouse sounded utterly confident. “That which would have us will not waste what it would feast upon.”
Keris, within a short distance of the two, knew that curl of fear which caught at any before a battle was enjoined. So—if the witchling believed their journey would be aided by the enemy, then they dared not allow themselves to be entrapped by any offering. A boat here—its very appearance would make it suspect.
This night they set sentries once again. The dank and debilitating humidity did not vanish with the day and they were immediately aware of a new and vicious attack. The flies and insects which they believed had made their lives a misery during other intervals of their journey were as nothing to the swarms of winged and crawling tormentors which sought them out now.
Destree opened her herb bag and shared out what she could of pungent dried leaves in an effort to keep them off. But when she reached the end of her supplies speedily and those she had shared seemed to do little good, she went to stand by the riverbank. This night a moon arose to ride high, making the water a sheen of flowing silver.
She took the amulet from her neck and held it high. To Keris it seemed that the moon’s radiance enveloped it until she held a small lamp. And she sang.
Once again Gruck, moving out of the deeper shadows, crouched behind her, and his deep purring caught on the notes of her wordless song, until all the camp save for those two lay in silence and even the animals, beating tails and tossing heads against the onslaught of the flying things, eased and stood rock-still.
Then—
“OOOOOOWaah—” The cry might have been that of a hound ready for the hunt, but it issued from the slender body of the girl who stood now with one hand on the giant’s shoulder. There was nothing soothing in that night-shattering cry—it was no petition, it was a dire warning.
There came a breeze, certainly not from the direction of the jungle, for it held none of that cloying rottenness. Keris realized that the cloud of thirsty bloodsuckers about him was gone.
The song had died, yet the echo of the fierce cry seemed to hold above and around them for a short passage of time. They only knew that that winged and crawling army had vanished and now the sound of the water flow arose again.
Liara swung around to face them. The moon seemed caught in her short crop of silver hair. Her face bore a defiant expression.
“Hound knowledge can count for something,” she snapped, “even here. Do you think our packs are allowed to suffer from fleas, or ticks, or the blackflies of the coursing season? By right I have not the knowledge of how to banish them, for I am female, but one learns if one keeps open ears and is silent in company. My uncle Volorian knew the pack cry, and here it is mine!”
“All of good use is of the Light. It is of benefit to living creatures, so it blends when the Power is summoned,” Mouse said. “This is not my Power, but that of the earth and the beasts which roam it—yet it protects as effectively as any gem.”
Thus they spent the night, and if armies from the jungle sought to bring them down, there was no sign of any such attack. Such a success was heartening—that they had descended the invisible way had been one victory, and now they had been n
ourished by a second. There was a feeling of new energy and the need to be busy about them all.
Again it was Gruck who dared the first attempt on the jungle. Without any explanation he splashed into the river, keeping close to the bank, the water rising to swirl just below the cincture of his belt. Though Destree sent a frantic mind-call after him, he did not so much as turn his head.
Once within the entrance of that cave of growth they watched him scale the shore, planting one large foot partway up the bank while he bent to lash out at the thick growth. There were squawks and cries and a thrashing of leaves.
Destree, feeling she must follow and yet not knowing what aid she could offer him, saw the muscles beneath his shaggy pelt stiffen. With a mighty heave he brought out of its hiding place a log so thick that his own wide reach could not encompass it. It skidded from his hold luckily near enough to the riverbank to roll down into the water with a mighty splash.
The giant paid no attention to his first catch; now he was bent nearly double, striving to see through the torn vines to where the log must have come from. Again he put his full strength to the test, this time venturing farther up the bank to do so.
He was almost hidden now from their sight, but the wild weaving of leaves and branches let them know that he was once again busy.
Suddenly he appeared taking two strides back toward the rest of the party standing unable to understand what he wished or needed.
Rope—
Destree whirled to get the coils Sebra had carried since they had reached the foot of the invisible way. Krispin and Denever were already gathering those up. Oddly enough, the Keplians, who had after their usual way kept apart, now moved forward, Theela deliberately stepping first into the river water, though she delivered at the same time a disgusted snort.