The knife scraped against flint and shot lances of spark into the night. That was expected. What took Lan by complete surprise was the shriek of inhuman agony from the stone. It cringed back as a small line left by his knife oozed thick juices.
" The rocks are alive. Use your swords!"
His own sword lay on the other side of the boulder confronting him. He lunged, his knife point digging squarely into the rock. He felt strong initial resistance, then nothing. The dagger was buried hilt- deep and produced another strident cry.
Rocks battered his legs and torso now. He saw a pebble actually launch itself directly at his head. He dodged, but not far enough. The glancing blow stunned him. He fell to his knees, slashing blindly with his knife. The smaller rocks moved faster, but the large ones had the bulk to crush him. He succeeded in severely wounding another of the large stones.
" Friend Lan Martak, what are these absurd beasts? They seem to be rocks."
" They' re alive, whatever they are. And they bleed when cut. Fight them, Krek, fight them!"
" Fight?" the spider quavered. " I have no desire to harm any living beast. I feel so guilty about being forced to do so in Melitarsus. I have spoken to Ehznoll about doing penance. He-"
" We' ll all die if you don' t help, Krek," the man shouted. He slashed, kicked, and shoved, finding little pleasure in almost breaking his toe against immobile rock. He dodged around the slowermoving boulder, found his sword, and began slashing.
The large rocks retreated; the smaller ones shot through the air like rocket- driven projectiles. Lan spun and, more through luck than skill, split one in half on the edge of his sword. Pulpy innards splashed over his hand and arm. The odor arising made him gag. The pungency of rotten eggs mixed with the acid tang of spoiled fruit to give the dying creatures added protection; no skunk emitted a worse smell.
" How many are still alive?" he shouted.
" Us or them?" came Abasi- Abi' s question.
" Us. There' s no telling how many of them are attacking."
" Melira and three others are dead," called Ehznoll. " They rejoin the good earth. May the sweet dirt accept them and nurture them, as they accept and nurture it."
" Damn," Lan said fervently. He felt an obligation toward Melira. He' d saved her life, and now she had been killed. Anger fed his sword strokes. He chopped the top five inches off the nearest boulder. It screeched in agony and rolled away, leaving bloody marks every time the injured portion touched real rock.
" Lan Martak, watch out!" Krek' s warning almost came too late. Larger rocks circled Lan again, singling him out as the humans' leader. He looked up and saw a pair of especially large rocks coming together in a powerful nutcracker move. He had no way of avoiding them; his back was to a sheer rock face. In front of him was a mileslong drop off the side of Mount Tartanius.
Krek rescued him with a combination of agility and strength. The spider hopped over one of the boulders, to join Lan in between. Six legs grabbed, caught, dug in, and twisted to deflect the course of the rock on Lan' s right. Krek grunted and heaved. The rock spun out, over the rim, hung for a moment as if disobeying the law of gravity, then began a slow tumble downward.
Lan' s hard thrust rammed his sword halfway through the other rock. It screeched its unearthly sound of stark pain, shrank back, then rolled off into the night, mewling as it went.
" That' ll show ' em!" crowed Lan. The animated rocks, even down to the smallest of stones, retreated. They attacked in the dark, with geologic slowness. Confronted with faster- moving adversaries, they stood no chance.
" Yes, that shows them," came Krek' s tormented voice.
" What happened? Your leg. It' s crushed!"
The spider hobbled on seven legs, one dangling at odd angles from abdomen to clawtip.
" They' ll not be back. I' ve seen to that," said Abasi- Abi, an anger about him going further than the deaths of the others. Lan thought the sorcerer railed as much against their slackened chances of reaching the summit as anything else. Abasi- Abi was as much a fanatic on this as Ehznoll.
" Can you help me with Krek?" asked Lan. " He' s badly injured."
" I have no time for that. I must see if Claybore sent those rock creatures. I' ve never before encountered anything like them. If it is his magic that animated them, he' s regained his power."
" But Krek' s leg-"
" He has seven others. Let him use those."
The sorcerer dropped to the ground, head in hands. Small snippets of his chant reached Lan and made him even madder. While he saw the need to protect themselves from Claybore, the danger had passed. It was time to tend their injured- the majority of their party had already died under the crushing advance of the rock- beings.
" I know only a few spells, Krek, and I don' t know if they' ll work at all on you."
" Do try," said the spider in a level, offhand voice. " The pain is extreme."
" I wish Inyx were here. Her healing expertise is much greater than mine."
" She can only bandage. You must repair. I feel the insides of that leg so intimately now. Strange," the spider said in an unnaturally calm way, " I do have seven others, but this one seems more precious to me. It is as if I would trade the other seven, whole, for this single one being repaired. Quite ridiculous, since I can hardly be expected to swing well on the web with only one leg." The spider babbled on, shock obvious in his monotones. For that, Lan had little in the way of aid. For the rest, he' d have to see. Lan took the damaged leg and examined it. He felt his gorge rising.
The leg had been almost totally crushed, held to the spider' s abdomen only by the outer layers of skin.
" Abasi- Abi!" he called. " I can' t do anything for him. You' re going to have to help me."
" Away!" snapped the mage. " I cannot find Claybore. The devil is hiding from me. I seek him: " The man' s voice trailed off, indicating no chance of ever getting help from him. Lan Martak looked around, desperate.
The handful of survivors gave as little hope. Ehznoll prayed for his lost companions. Two others who had been with Abasi- Abi collected the gear of the deceased. One other, clutching a broken arm to his chest, completed the roster of survivors.
" My earliest days were unhappy, also," said Krek, his voice shocking Lan more and more. The eerie, monotonous tone spoke of extreme mental trauma. " I was kidnapped while still in my egg and sold to an old king. A nice man, but doddering. I aided him in brief excursions against his enemy, who later became his son- in- law. You humans perform the oddest rituals prior to mating."
" Right, Krek, don' t we?"
Lan fought his own panic down as he ran fingers through the bloodied fur on the leg. He imagined a large, tranquil lake, floating above it, drifting like a feather, sinking, sinking slowly into the blood- warmth of the water, soothing, calming, becoming at peace and floating: floating: floating.
His mind ordered, Lan Martak began the only healing spells he knew.
The healing he attempted exceeded any he' d ever tried before. Minor cuts and abrasions, even simple fractures, were within his powers. To restore an entire limb- that required spells more potent than any he knew.
But he found that, once started, the process went slowly, smoothly. His panic had gone entirely. Only cool confidence remained. The elementary spells worked, but not to his complete satisfaction. While allowing one to work its healing, he began another and yet a third. He juggled the three spells at the same time, in ways he only dimly understood.
" My fur tingles, friend Lan Martak."
He couldn' t answer. His mind focused totally on the healing process. Internal. Veins. Arteries. Nerves. He worked in ways unknown and unknowable. External. The fur. Talon. Joints. All rolled together in his mind as one complex painting, with himself cast as the artist. When he knew he couldn' t go on for another second, he did. He had to if he wanted to save Krek' s leg.