Light-footed, even on this lethal ground, the mystif dodged through the ice towards Gentle’s voice. Before it was even at his side, he turned to attack the wall afresh, knowing that if it didn’t capitulate very soon they’d be buried where they stood. Snatching another breath from his lips he delivered it against the wall, and this time the shadows failed to swallow the sound. It rang out like a thunderous bell. The shock wave would have pitched him to the floor had the mystif s arms not been there to catch him. “This is a passing place!” it yelled
“What does that mean?”
“Two breaths this time,” was its reply. “Mine as well as yours, in one hand. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
He couldn’t see the mystif, but he felt it raise his hand to
its mouth.
“On a count of three,” Pie said. “One.”
Gentle drew a breathful of furious air.
“Two.”
He drew again, deeper still.
“Three!”
And he expelled it, mingled with Pie’s, into his hand. Human flesh wasn’t designed to govern such force. Had Pie not been beside him to brace his shoulder and wrist, the power would have erupted from his palm and taken his hand with it. But they flung themselves forward in unison, and he opened his hand the instant before it struck the wall. The roar from above redoubled, but it was drowned out moments later by the havoc they’d wrought ahead of them. Had there been room to retreat they’d have done so, but the roof was pitching down a fusillade of stalactites, and all they could do was shield their bare heads and stand their ground as the wall stoned them for their crime, knocking them to their knees as it split and fell. The commotion went on for what seemed like minutes, the ground shuddering so violently they were thrown down yet again, this time to their faces. Then, by degrees, the convulsions slowed. The hail of stone and ice became a drizzle, and stopped, and a miraculous gust brought warm wind to their faces.
They looked up. The air was murky, but light was catching glints off the daggers they lay on, and its source was somewhere-up ahead. The mystif was first to its feet, hauling Gentle up beside it.
“A passing place,” it said again.
It put its arm around Gentle’s shoulders, and together they stumbled towards the warmth that had roused them. Though the gloom was still deep, they could make out the vague presence of the wall. For all the scale of the upheaval, the fissure they’d made was scarcely more than a man’s height. On the other side it was foggy, but each step took them closer to the light. As they went, their feet sinking into a soft sand that was the color of the fog, they heard the ice bells again and looked back, expecting to see the women following. But the fog already obscured the fissure and the sanctum beyond, and when the bells stopped, as they did moments later, they lost all sense of its direction.
“We’ve come out into the Third Dominion,” Pie said.
“No more mountains? No more snow?”
“Not unless you want to find” your way back to thank them.”
Gentle peered ahead into the fog. “Is this the only way out of the Fourth?”
“Lord, no,” said Pie. “If we’d gone the scenic route we’d have had the choice of a hundred places to cross. But this must have been their secret way, before the ice sealed it up.”
The light showed Gentle the mystif s face now, and it bore a wide smile.
“You did fine work,” Pie said. “I thought you’d gone crazy.”
“I think I did, a little,” Gentle replied. “I must have a destructive streak. Hapexamendios would be proud of me.” He halted to give his body a moment’s rest. “I hope there’s more than fog in the Third.”
“Oh, believe me, there is. It’s the Dominion I’ve longed to see more than any other, while I’ve been in the Fifth. It’s full of light and fertility. We’ll rest, and we’ll feed, and we’ll get strong again. Maybe go to L’Himby and see my friend Scopique. We deserve to indulge ourselves for a few days before we head for the Second and join the Lenten Way.”