He neared the first slopes of South Hill, sighting neither hunters nor game. The hunters would now be taking such positions as tactics dictated; the game would be lurking at the base of South Hill, wondering how best to reach the sanctuary of North Hill. Reith suddenly came upon a young Gray, crouched in the shadow of a white bamboo-like growth. He wore sandals and a breech-clout; he carried a club and a cactus-prong dagger. Reith asked him, "Where is the Dirdirman, the one just put out on the field?"
The Gray gave his head an indifferent jerk. "There might be one such around the hill. Leave me; you create a flurry of darkness with your cloak. Drop it off; your skin is the best camouflage. Don't you know the Dirdir observe your every move?"
Reith ran on. He saw two elderly men, stark naked, with stringy muscles and white hair, standing poised like specters. Reith called out, "Have you seen the Dirdirman anywhere near?"
"Up beyond, or so it may be. Take yourself off, with your dark cloak."
Reith scrambled up a jut of sandstone. He called out: "Anacho."
No response. Reith looked at his watch. In ten minutes the field would go dark.
He searched the side of South Hill. A little distance away he glimpsed movement: persons running off through the thicket. His cloak seemed to arouse antagonism; he removed it, threw it over his arm.
In a hollow Reith found four men and a woman. They showed him the faces of hunted animals, and would not reply to his question. Reith labored up the hill, to gain a better view. "Anacho!" he called. A figure in a white smock swung around. Reith felt engulfed in relief; his knees felt weak; tears came to his eyes. "Anacho!"
"What do you do here!"
"Hurry. This way. We're about to escape."
Anacho looked at him in stupefaction. "No one escapes the Glass Box."
"Come along! You'll see!"
"Not that way," cried Anacho hoarsely. "Safety lies to the north, on North Hill!
When the darkness comes the hunt starts!"
"I know, I know! We don't have much time. Come this way. We must take cover somewhere over yonder; we must be ready."
Anacho threw his hands in the air. "You must know something I don't know."
They ran back the way Reith had come, to the western face of South Hill. As they ran Reith gasped out the details of the plan.
Anacho asked in a hollow voice, "You did all this ... for me? You came down here on the field?"
"No matter about that. Now-we want to be close to that tall clump of white bristles. Where shall we take cover?"
"Within the clump-as good as any. Notice the hunters! They take their positions.
They must keep off half a mile until the darkness comes. We are just barely within the sanctuary. Those four are marking us!"
"Darkness will be coining in seconds. Our plan is this: we run due west, toward that mound. From there we work to that bank of brown cactus and around the southern edge. Most important: we must not become separated!"
Anacho made a plaintive gesture. "How can we avoid it? We can't call out; the hunters will hear us."
Reith gave him an end of the rope. "Hold to that. And if we are separated we meet on the west edge of that yellow clump."
They waited for darkness. Out on the field the young Dirdir took up their positions, with here and there more experienced hunters. Reith looked to the east. By some trick of light and atmosphere the fields seemed to be open and to extend to far horizons; only by dint of concentration could Reith make out the east wall.
Darkness came. The lights dulled to red, flickered out. Far to the north glowed a single purple light, to indicate direction. It cast no illumination. Darkness was complete. The hunt had begun. From the north came Dirdir hunting calls: chilling hoots and ululations.
Reith and Anacho moved west. From time to time they halted to listen through the dark. To their right came a sinister jingling. They stood stock-still. The jingling and a pad-pad-pad faded off to the rear.
They arrived at their landmark hummock, and continued toward the clump of cactus. Something was near. They halted to listen. It seemed to their straining ears, or nerves, that something else paused as well.
From high, high above came a many-voiced cry, ranging up and down the sonic range, then another and another. "The huntcalls of all the septs," Anacho whispered. "A traditional ritual. Now from the field, all the sept-members present must give voice." The calls from above halted; from all parts of the hunting field, eerie out of the dark, came the responses. Anacho nudged Reith.
"While the responses sound, we are free to move. Come."
They set out with long strides, their feet sensitive as eyes. The hunt-slogans dwindled away into the distance; again there was silence. Reith struck a loose rock with his feet, to cause a distressing rattle. They froze, teeth gritted.
There was no reaction. On they walked, on and on, feeling out with their feet for the cactus clump, but encountering only air and harsh soil. Reith began to fear that they had passed it by, that the lights would go on to expose them to all the hunters, all the spectators.
Seven minutes of darkness had elapsed, or so he estimated. In another minute, at the latest, they should find the outskirts of the clump ... A sound! Running feet, apparently human, passed not thirty feet distant. A moment later a jogging thud, shrill whispers, a jingle of hunting gear. The sounds passed, dwindled.
Silence returned.
Seconds later they came to the cactus. "Around to the southern side," Reith whispered. "Then on hands and knees into the center."
The two pushed through the coarse stalks, meeting sharp side-prongs.
"Light! Here it comes!"
The dark began to dissipate in the style of a Sibol sunrise: up through gray, pallid white, into the full glare of day.
Reith and Anacho looked about them. The cactus provided fair concealment; they seemed in no imminent peril, though not a hundred yards distant three Dirdir scions bounded across the field, heads high, searching in all directions for fleeing game. Reith consulted his watch. Fifteen minutes remained-if Traz had suffered no mishap, if he had been able to reach the opposite wall of the Glass Box.
The forest of white bristle lay a quarter of a mile ahead, across somewhat open ground. It might, thought Reith, be the longest quarter-mile he had ever traversed.
The two wormed through the cactus to the northern verge. "The hunters keep to middle ground for an hour or so," said Anacho. "They restrain quick penetration to the north, then they work to the south."
Reith handed Anacho a power-gun, tucked his own into his waistband. He raised to his knees. A mile distant he glimpsed movement, Dirdir or game he could not be sure. Anacho suddenly pulled him down into concealment. From behind the cactus bush trotted a group of Immaculates, hands sheathed in artificial talons, simulated effulgences trailing over their shining white pates. Reith's stomach twisted; he stifled the impulse to confront the creatures, to shoot them.
The Dirdirmen loped past, and it seemed that they missed seeing the fugitives only through the sheerest chance. They angled away to the east, and, sighting game, bounded off at full speed.
Reith checked his watch; time was growing short. Rising to his knees, he looked in all directions. "Let's go."
They jumped erect, ran off for the white forest.
They paused halfway, crouched behind a little thicket. By South Hill a hot hunt was in progress; two bands of hunters converged on game which had taken cover on South Hill itself. Reith checked his watch. Nine minutes. The white forest was only a minute or two away. The lone spire which he had established as a landmark could now be seen, a few hundred yards west of the forest. They set forth again.