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Dizzy and with a whale of a headache, she nonetheless stepped back and gave
off a single low squawk. Julian heard it and slowly and carefully pushed
against the gate. The board jammed a couple of times, but Mavra was able to
help free it, and finally they had it open enough for
Lori, then Julian to squeeze through. The trouble was, if word had reached
here about them and the
Verionites were on the lookout for signs of strangers, the open gate would be
a signal. Julian pushed the gate closed and strained to lift the board back up
into place, but she just didn't have the strength. Lori, seeing the problem,
didn't stop to wonder why she was doing it but came over and put his head and
neck under Julian's arms and lifted slowly, giving her the added strength she
needed. It wasn't neat, but the gate was again locked and bolted.
Julian helped Mavra onto Lori's back but didn't bother to tie her. At the
speed at which any of them could cross the swinging span, it was unnecessary
and would take time they couldn't spare.
The roar of rapids came from far below, masking out much of the sound once
they were out over the chasm, and the bridge rippled and swung back and forth
as they crossed. But it was a sturdy and well-built structure that had seen
much traffic. At least the idea of alarms rigged to the bridge seemed remote;
there was a distinct night breeze that caused it to sway slightly entirely on
its own, making it more difficult to keep one's own balance on it but
possibly explaining why the crossing was usually restricted to daylight.
There was a small house at the other end with a light inside, apparently the
toll keeper's house.
Before they even reached it, the pungent smells of Verion's masters hit them,
and it wasn't much more pleasant than the odors of Mixtim, although it was
more varied-the scent of massive sweat, garbage, and pungent spices all
rolled into one unappetizing and somewhat sickening perfume. Just before they
reached the other side, somebody came out of the house and started fooling
with something unseen on the side of the building. They froze, and for a
brief nightmare moment they had the swaying, the winds, and the odors all at
once.
Then whoever it was went back inside, and they finished the walk slowly and
quietly, trying to keep hoof sounds to a minimum. They were relieved to see
only a small wooden crossbar on a pivot where the bridge again reached land.
As quietly as possible, Julian raised it enough for Lori to get through, then
ducked under it herself.
The wind really started up on the other side; while unpleasant, it had the
effect of masking their own sounds as they moved between bridge and town,
across the road, and around the main settlement.
Well over a hundred more miles of this, Julian thought nervously. Too long in
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such a civilized country. They had gotten lucky this time, but there was no
way of knowing what other obstacles this land had in store for them before
they reached the final and largest obstacle of them all.
Beyond the town the bizarre mixture of twisted land-forms-spires, pinnacles,
tiny table rocks-
grew even more dense, and the Verionites had planted virtually every
available space in between.
Here and there were virtual herds of the huge, lumbering bipedal draft
animals just wandering about or lying around sound asleep and snoring loudly.
The wind rippled the grains and grasses as if they were a gigantic sea and
made its own series of groans and moans as it twisted in and out and all
around the natural statuary.
As morning approached and false dawn was illuminating the western sky, Julian
searched for a good camp. She was beginning to wonder if perhaps she had
misunderstood the "up" warning of the Lebans or if there were Verionite
sentinels, like shepherds, atop some of the broader rock forms as watchmen. It
was still hard to see, though, how they'd get up or down without wings. They
would have to camp at the base of one of them, though-a particularly large
tower of twisted black rock that had shallow cavelike indentations at the base
that would provide at least some cover. There was no choice; it would have to
do.
Julian, as usual, took the first watch. Mavra's own sense of time from
watching the shadows seldom failed her here; her second watch was as reliable
as Julian's. Only Lori seemed to have little sense of time, so he took the
last watch, since it was fairly difficult to miss the sun going down if the
others weren't already awake by then.
For Mavra, so long out of the chase, every step took her closer to her goal.
Somehow, some way, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]