After a few tests, Honath selected a rock about three times
the size of his own head. It was heavy, but between them he
a~d Mathild got it to the edge of the ledge.
“Hold on,” Alaskon said in a pre-occupied voice. “Tip it
over the edge, so it’s ready to drop as soon as you let go of it.
Good. Now wait. He’s on his backtrack now. As soon as he
crossesAll right. Four, three, two, one, drop it!”
The rock fell away. All three of them crouched in a row at
the edge of the gorge. The rock dwindled, became as small as
a fruit, as small as a fingernail, as small as a grain of sand.
The dwarfed figure of the demon reached the end of its mad
stalking arc, swung furiously to go back again
And stopped. For an instant it just stood there. Then, with
infinite slowness, it toppled sidewise into the pool. It thrashed
convulsively two or three times, and then was gone; the
spreading waves created by the waterfall masked any rip-
ples it might have made in sinking.
“Like spearing fish in a bromelaid,” Alaskon said proudly.
But )US voice was shaky. Honath knew exactly why.
After all, they had just killed a demon.
“jffe could do that again,” Honath whispered.
Often,” Alaskon agreed, still peering greedily down at the
pool. “They don’t appear to have much intelligence, these
demons. Given enough height, we could lure them into blind
alleys like this, and bounce rocks off them almost at will. I
wish I’d thought of it.”
“Where do we go now?” Mathild said, looking toward the
ladder beyond-the basalt pillars. “That way?”
“Yes, and as fast as possible,” Alaskon said, getting to his