"Chiefly those who have either lost their way or become too fearful to continue the journey inward. The other name for the pass is the Valley of Timid Souls." Gone shrugged. "But I suspect it is not from them that we shall be in danger. At least, not greatly. They'll ally themselves with whatever power rules the pass."
"And the map says nothing of its nature?"
"Only that we should be wary."
There came a noise from behind them and Elric turned, expecting a threat, but it was only Whiskers, looking a little plumper, a little sleeker, but back to his normal size, who had at last caught up with them.
Jaspar Colinadous laughed and bent to let the cat leap onto his shoulder. "We have no need of weapons, eh? Not with such a handsome beast to defend us!"
The cat licked his face.
Elric was peering into the dark pass, trying to determine what he might find there. For a moment he thought he saw a rider at the entrance, a man mounted on a silvery grey horse, wearing strange armour of different shades of white and grey and yellow. The warrior's horse reared as he turned it and rode back into the blackness and Elric knew a sensation of foreboding, though he had never seen the figure before.
Oone and Jaspar Colinadous were apparently unaware of the apparition and continued with untiring stride in the direction of the
Elric said nothing of the rider but instead asked Gone how it was that they had all walked for hours and felt neither hungry nor weary.
"It is one of the advantages of this realm," she said. "The disadvantages are considerable, however, since a sense of time is easily lost and one can forget direction and goals. Moreover, it's wise to bear in mind that while one does not appear to lose physical energy or experience hunger, other forms of energy are being expended. Psychic and spiritual they may be, but they are just as valuable, as I'm sure you appreciate. Conserve those particular resources, Prince Elric, for you'll have urgent need of them soon enough!"
Elric wondered if she, too, had caught sight of the pale warrior but, for a reason he could not understand, was reluctant to ask her.
The hills were growing taller and taller around them as, subtly, they moved into the Shark's Gullet. The light was dimmer already, blocked by the mountains, and Elric felt a chill which was not altogether the result of the shade.
He became aware of a rushing sound and Jaspar Colinadous ran towards a high bank of rocks to peer over them and look down. He turned, a little baffled. "A deep chasm. A river. We must find a bridge before we can go on." He murmured to his winged cat, which immediately took flight over the abyss and was soon lost in the gloom beyond.
Forced to pause, Elric knew sudden gloom. Unable to gauge his physical needs, uncertain of what events took place in the world he had left, perturbed by the knowledge that their time was running short and that Lord Gho would certainly keep his word to torture young Anigh to death, he began to believe that he could well be on a fool's errand, embarked on an adventure which could only end in disaster for all. He wondered why he had trusted Gone so completely. Perhaps because he had been so desperate, so shocked by the death of Alnac Kreb...
She touched him on the shoulder. "Remember what I told you. Your weariness is not physical here, but it manifests itself in your moods. One must seek spiritual sustenance as assiduously as you would normally seek food and water."
He looked into her eyes, seeing warmth and kindness there. Immediately his despair began to dissipate. "I must admit I was beginning to know strong doubt..."
"When that feeling overwhelms you, try to tell me," she said. "I am familiar with it and might be able to help you..."
"So I am entirely in your hands, madam." He spoke without irony.
"I thought you understood that when you agreed to accompany me," she said softly.
"Aye." He turned in time to see the little cat coming back and alighting on Jaspar Colinadous's shoulder. The turbanned man listened carefully and intelligently and Elric was certain that the cat was speaking.
At last Jaspar Colinadous nodded. "There's a good bridge not a quarter of a mile from here and it leads to a trail winding directly into the pass. Whiskers tells me that the bridge is guarded by a single mounted warrior. We can hope, I suppose, that he will let us cross."
They followed the course of the river as the sky overhead grew darker and darker and Elric wished that, together with his lack of hunger and tiredness, he did not feel the rapid drop in temperature which made his body shake. Only Jaspar Colinadous was unaffected by the cold.
The rough wall of rocks at the chasm's edge gradually fell away, curving inward towards the pass, and very soon they saw the bridge ahead of them, a narrow spur of natural stone pushing outward over the foaming river below. And they heard the echo of the water as it plunged yet deeper down the gorge. Yet nowhere was there the guard which the little cat had reported.
Elric moved cautiously in the lead now, again wishing he had a weapon to give him reassurance. He reached the bridge and set a foot upon it. Far down at the foot of the chasm's granite walls grey foam leapt and danced and the river gave voice to its own peculiar song, half triumph, half despair, almost as if it were a living thing.
Elric shivered and took another step. Still he saw no figure in that deepening gloom. Another step and he was high above the water, refusing to look down lest the water call him to it. He knew the fascination of such torrents and how one could be drawn into them, hypnotised by their rush and noise.
"See you any guard, Prince Elric?" called Jaspar Colinadous.
"Nothing," the albino cried back. And he took two more steps.
Gone was behind him now, moving as cautiously as he. He peered to the bridge's further side. Great slabs of dank rock, covered in lichen and oddly coloured creepers, rose up and disappeared into the dark air above. The sound of the river made him think he heard voices, little skittering sounds, the scuffle of threatening limbs, but still he saw nothing.
Elric was half-way across the bridge before he detected the suggestion of a horse in the shadows of the gorge, the barest hint of a rider, perhaps wearing armour which was the colour of his own bone-white skin.
"Who's that?" The albino raised his voice. "We come in peace. We mean no harm to anyone here."
Again it might have been that the water made him believe he heard a faint, unpleasant chuckle.
Then it seemed the rush of water grew louder and he realised he heard the sound of hooves on rock. Formed as if by the spray, a figure suddenly appeared on the far side of the bridge, bearing down on him, its long, pale sword poised to strike.
There was nowhere to turn. The only way of avoiding the warrior was to jump from the bridge into the torrent below. Elric found his vision dimmed even as he prepared to spring forward, hoping to catch the horse's bridle and at least halt the rider in his tracks.
Then again there was a whirring of wings and something fixed itself on the attacker's helm, slashing at the face within. It was Whiskers, spitting and yowling like any ordinary alley cat engaged in a brawl over a piece of ripe fish.
The horse reared. The rider gave out a shriek of rage and pain and released the bridle hi order to try to pull the little cat from him. Whiskers rushed upward into the air, out of reach. Elric glimpsed glaring, silvery eyes, a skin which glowed with the leper's mark, and then the horse, out of control, had slipped on the wet rock and fallen sideways. For a moment it tried to get back to its feet, the rider yelling and roaring as if demented, the long, white sword still hi his hand. And then both had tumbled over the edge of the bridge and went falling, a chaotic mixture of arms and hooves, down into the echoing chasm to be swallowed by the distant, murky waters.
Elric was gasping for breath. Jaspar Colinadous came to grip his arm and steady him, helping him and Gone cross to the far side of the rocky slab and stand upon the bank, still scarcely aware of what had happened to them.