“I appreciate this.”
“My pleasure,” he said from behind me.
I took several more steps and something crunched beneath my feet and rattled when kicked aside. It was a sound one does not readily forget. The floor was strewn with bones.
There came a soft, quick sound from behind me, and I knew that I did not have time to draw Grayswandir. So I spun, raising my staff before me and thrusting with it.
This maneuver blocked the beast’s leap, striking it on the shoulder. But it also knocked me over backward, to roll among the bones. The staff was torn from my hands by the impact, and in the split second of decision allowed me by my opponent’s own fall I chose to draw Grayswandir rather than grope after it.
I managed to get my blade unsheathed, but that was all. I was still on my back with the point of my weapon to my left when the jackal recovered and leaped again. I swung the pommel with all of my strength into its face.
The shock ran down my arm and up into my shoulder. The jackal’s head snapped back and its body twisted to my left. I brought the point into line immediately, gripping the hilt with both hands, and I was able to rise to my right knee before it snarled and lunged once more.
As soon as I saw that I had it on target, I threw my weight behind it, driving the blade deep into the jackal’s body. I released it quickly and rolled away from those snapping jaws.
The jackal shrieked, struggled to rise, dropped back. I lay panting where I had fallen. I felt the staff beneath me and seized it. I brought it around to guard and drew myself back against the cave wall. The beast did not rise again, however, but lay there thrashing. In the dim light, I could see that it was vomiting. The smell was overpowering.
Then it turned its eyes in my direction and lay still.
“It would have been so fine,” it said softly, “to eat a Prince of Amber. I always wondered-about royal blood.”
Then the eyes closed and the breathing stopped and I was left with the stink.
I rose, back still against the wall, staff still before me, and regarded it. It was a long while before I could bring myself to retrieve my blade.
A quick exploration showed me that I was in no tunnel, but only a cave. When I made my way out, the fog had grown yellow, and it was stirred now by a breeze from the lower reaches of the valley.
I leaned against the rock and tried to decide which way to take. There was no real trail here.
Finally, I struck off to my left. That way seemed somewhat steeper, and I wanted to get above the fog and into the mountains as soon as I could. The staff continued to serve me well. I kept listening for the sound of running water, but there was none about.
I struggled along, always continuing upward, and the fogs thinned and changed color. Finally, I could see that I was climbing toward a wide plateau. Above it, I began to catch glimpses of the sky, many-colored and churning.
There were several sharp claps of thunder at my back, but I still could not see the disposition of the storm. I increased my pace then, but began to grow dizzy after a few minutes. I stopped and seated myself on the ground, panting. I was overwhelmed with a sense of failure. Even if I made it up to the plateau, I had a feeling that the storm would roar right across it. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. What was the use of going on if there was no way I could make it?
A shadow moved through the pistachio mists, dropped toward me. I raised my staff, then saw that it was only Hugi. He braked himself and landed at my feet.
“Corwin,” he said, “you have come a good distance.”
“But maybe not good enough,” I said. “The storm seems to be getting nearer.”