The answer came back at once:
First, your formation suits both of us very well. Second, the snow served to confuse and distract them – especially the giant. Now listen and I’ll describe your route from this point forward. Very soon now you’ll come to a place where the rock is riven into deep crevices. One such crack has been filled in with lava which forms a floor. Follow this and it will lead you direct to my abode at the hollow core. As for your companions, alas their time runs very short. Indeed they haven’t enough of it to find their way here. Not on their feet anyway.
There was nothing of humour in Shaitan’s mental voice, only an icy resolve. Shaithis made no further comment; and anyway Arkis, heading the column, had come to a halt. Fess joined him, then Shaithis.
Before them the surface of the ledge and the near-vertical face of the cliff were split with deep fissures a full pace in width. Arkis looked at the others. ‘What now?’
‘We go on,’ said Shaithis.
Perhaps his reply had been too ready, or he had sounded too sure of himself, for the Ferenc looked at him for long moments. And at last the giant said, ‘But the way looks like a jumble of broken rock. Any cave we find will surely have collapsed in upon itself.’
‘We won’t know that until we look,’ Shaithis answered. ‘It’s just that I feel we’re very close now.’
The Ferenc narrowed his eyes. ‘It appears I’m not the only one whose awareness has been focused to a fault. But very well, we press on. Arkis, lead the way.’
The leper’s son, muttering darkly to himself, stepped out across the first crack, teetered a little on the far side and found his balance. And so they all proceeded.
Then, after negotiating a half-dozen more crevasses: ‘Ho!’ Arkis called back. ‘But this next crack has a floor, formed of a frozen river of rock.’
‘An ancient lava-run,’ said Fess, joining him.
Shaithis came last and looked at the cliff, riven where in olden times the flow had forced an exit. ‘Lava from the secret heart of the volcano,’ he said. ‘So perhaps we’ve found our way in after all.’
The Ferenc stepped under the cliff’s overhang, into the shadow of the cleft. ‘Let me scan it.’
Arkis went after him, with Shaithis bringing up the rear, and they all three sniffed the air, probing the way ahead with keen vampire senses. Until at last Arkis ventured: ‘I sense . . . nothing!’
‘Likewise,’ said Shaithis, relieved that the small-talented Diredeath had discovered no threat (where in fact he found the place menacing and uninviting in the extreme). The Ferenc, however, seemed of a similar mind to Shaithis; except he was perfectly, and honestly, willing to voice it.
‘I don’t like it,’ he gave his opinion, ‘for it smells too much like the cave where Volse got his.’
‘You’ve let Volse’s death prey on your mind,’ Shaithis told him. ‘And anyway – and as has been said before -forewarned is forearmed. Also, there are three of us this time. Arkis and I, we have our mighty gauntlets, and you have your even mightier talons. And in any case we’re already decided that the bloodbeast was hidden in that first cave. Myself,’ (he paused to sniff the cave’s air again), ‘I think it likely that the cone’s master has worked some beguilement here: he has gloomed on this place and left the smell of death here. But a smell is only a smell, and I smell success! I’m for going in.’ He looked from Fess to Arkis.
Arkis shrugged. ‘If this so-called “cone’s master” has comforts in there, then I’m with you, Shaithis. I’ve had it to the tusks with hardship! I could use some rich red blood in my belly, and a woman in my bed. D’you suppose it’s a harem he guards so jealously?’
Shaithis’s turn to shrug. ‘I’ve never been a one for the histories,’ he said, ‘but I’ve heard it said that some of the banished Lords took their concubines with them. We can’t say what we’ll find until we find it.’