The mul followed and saw that she had stepped onto a small shelf of rock. This ledge was so narrow that, at first glance, it appeared to be nothing more than a dark line crossing the shadowy side of the peak. It ran along the granite face until it disappeared around the far side of the mountain.
Rikus took a moment to secure his twin-axe to his satchel, then stepped onto the ledge. It was barely wider than his feet and was covered with a layer of loose dirt. Nevertheless, Anezka moved along it as casually as if she were walking down the corridor leading into Tyr’s great stadium. Rikus followed, half expecting the shelf to collapse under his weight.
To his surprise, he discovered that the ledge itself seemed quite sturdy, but the thick layer of dirt covering it posed a constant threat. Twice in the first few steps, the slick soles of his sandals slipped on the loose ground and nearly plunged him into the dark abyss below. He looked back to warn the person behind him about the treacherous ground, but held his tongue when he saw it was Agis. Even if Rikus had felt like protecting him, he doubted the noble would have taken the advice in a friendly manner.
Rikus faced the mountain so that he could use both hands to brace himself. Slowly he shuffled across the ledge, kicking the dirt away before he took each step. He had always heard that one shouldn’t look down from a high place, so he tried to keep his eyes turned toward the summit of the peak.
After a time, he realized this was a terrible mistake. The endless sky overhead filled his mind with images of a bottomless abyss beneath his feet. When he had gone about a quarter of the way across, a picture of his body tumbling into the chasm below flashed through his mind. Every now and then, he saw himself bounce off the craggy wall, his musclebound figure growing smaller every second and the echoes of his terrified scream more distant. Finally his body shrank to a speck and simply disappeared into the dark abyss.
Rikus ignored the vision as best he could and continued to shuffle along the ledge. Halfway across, the mul pictured not his own brawny form falling into the chasm, but Neeva’s. He saw her bounce offt the cliff once, twice, then silently plunge head-first into the abyss. He shook his head to clear it, then continued forward. To his surprise, he found that the muscles in his knees were quivering.
When he was most of the way across, Rikus’s lead foot slipped as he placed his weight on it. He let out a short yell, then his fingers caught hold of the rocky handholds and prevented his fall. Rikus’s legs began to tremble. He found himself breathing hard and fast, and his vision was filled with white spots. The mul closed his eyes and held onto his handholds so tightly that his forearms ached.
Agis crept up beside Rikus. “What’s wrong?” the noble asked. “Do you need help?”
“No!” he hissed, keeping his eyes closed. “I’m fine. How are Neeva and Sadira?”
“Better than us, I think,” Agis replied. “They’ve tied themselves together.”
“What? that’s stupid,” Rikus said, opening his eyes. “If one of them falls, she’ll pull the other off.”
Agis’s grim face was perspiring with the bitter sweat of fear. Like Rikus, he gripped the rocks so tightly that the veins on his forearms bulged. The noble’s knees were also shaking, though not nearly as badly as the mul’s.
Although it made him perilously dizzy, Rikus tilted his head back so he could see the two women. They had roped themselves together and were working their way across the ledge in a much calmer fashion than the men. First Neeva moved ahead the length of the rope. Sadira waited behind, watching the other woman intently, prepared to cast a spell that would save them both from falling. When Neeva neared the end of the rope, she found a suitable place to brace herself. As Sadira came along behind, the gladiator took up the rope and remained ready to catch the smaller woman the instant she misstepped.
“Not a bad idea,” Rikus said approvingly.
“I wonder if we should try something similar,” Agis replied.
Rikus glanced over his shoulder at his satchel, then looked between his feet at the darkening depths of the abyss. “You feel like digging your rope out of your bag?”
Agis also looked down. “I don’t think so.”
“Me neither,” Rikus replied. “We’ll just have to do the best we can alone.”
The mul returned to shuffling across the ledge. Soon, Rikus smelled a strange fragrance, an earthy odor he had never known before. It seemed sweet and sour at the same time, with undertones of both perfume and decay. Rikus looked westward. Anezka waited a short distance ahead, where the ledge crossed the corner of the mountan.
Behind her, a fuzzy silhouette ran the entire length of the ridge. It looked like a roiling, greenish cloud hanging close upon the ground. At certain times, the shapes protruding from it reminded Rikus vaguely of the rare tree he had seen in the Tyr Valley, but he had never seen one writhe and twist as these seemed to be doing.
As he came closer, Rikus heard the wild cackles and squeals of strange creatures. The wind now carried something the gladiator had never before felt on his skin: a cold mist. The air was heavy with the scent of a recent rain, and the mul could see now that the strange silhouette running along the top of the ridge was, in fact, the crown of a forest-a forest that seemed to be dancing, but a forest nonetheless.
The mul could not count the number of times they had crested similar ridges or saddles in the last week. Each time they expected to see the great halfling woodland spread out before them, but discovered only the rocky slopes of an even higher mountain hidden behind the one they had just crossed. Filled with joy and excitement now, Rikus looked back and gave Agis a broad smile. “Were there!” he said, pointing toward the ridge.
The mul’s foot slipped, unexpectedly shifting half of his weight onto the hand still clinging to the rock face. His fingers peeled away from the handhold. Painfully they scraped along a series of tiny sharp ridges on the rocky face, vainly clutching at each minuscule rib as they passed.
Rikus toppled backward.
The cliff fell out of reach as the mul found himself looking straight up into the azure sky. The peak’s distant summit flashed before his eyes. Agis called his name.
Rikus watched his feet tumble over his head, then the maroon depths of the chasm were rushing up to meet him. Distantly he heard Neeva and Sadira screaming, and even thought he heard a soprano trill from Anezka’s direction. Rikus somersaulted again and glimpsed Agis glowering with intense concentration, pointing one long finger at him.
It seemed to Rikus that his heart stopped beating. A sick, giddy feeling of terror gorged his stomach, and the sound of his own screaming filled his ears. He wished for the only thing that a man could wish for under such circumstances, to die of fright before his body erupted into a red spray on the boulders far below.
As the mul tumbled over again, a circle of blackness opened beneath him. He plunged into it. An icy blast knocked the air from his lungs. Passing through the dark tunnel, Rikus had enough time to wonder where the circle had come from. An instant later his body smashed into the ground.
His breath shot from his lungs, and his body erupted into agony. The mul curled into a fetal position. To his surprise, the pain continued. He felt himself sliding down a steep slope. When he opened his eyes, he saw green ferns and black, rich soil beneath his cheeks.
A pair of tiny strong hands gripped his shoulders and stopped his descent. Rikus looked up. The soft, familiar features of a small, wild-eyed face greeted him.
“Anezka?” he gasped, finding to his amazement that he could still breath.
The halfling scowled, then nodded. Bracing her feet on either side of Rikus’s shoulders, she pulled him into a more or less seated position. The mul gasped at the sight before his eyes.