“Should’ve killed it,” the swordsman grumbled. Releasing his hand, he started to shake it sharply.
“Hurt?” Ehomba looked suddenly concerned.
“Hoy, it throbs like my head the morning after a three-day binge! But it’s nothing I can’t handle, bruther.” Rising from his seat, he straightened his pack on his back. Some of the straps had become loosened while he was being dragged along by the revolting apparition. “It’s too damn hot here.” He nodded briskly in the direction of the foothills and the rocky crags they fronted. “Let’s find ourselves some cool shade and fresh water.”
The ascent into the Curridgian Mountains proved arduous, but less so than their trek into the Hrugars. Deep gorges allowed them to avoid the need to scale the highest peaks, providing a natural approach to the towering escarpment. Where there was snow there was runoff, and the same canyons that guided them westward soon boasted of swiftly running streams and even small rivers. Ehomba was grateful they would not have to worry any longer about water. As they climbed higher the air grew cooler. The awful heat of the Tortured Lands receded until it was no more than a disagreeable memory.
Pines and redwoods, firs and kauris soon replaced weedy grasses and small-leaved brush, until they once again found themselves traipsing through forest. Ehomba and Simna were rejuvenated by the fresh air and increased humidity, while Ahlitah was largely indifferent. But Hunkapa Aub was positively exhilarated. Of them all, he, with his heavy, shaggy coat, had suffered the most by far from the unrelenting heat they had left behind and below.