XII
They had been without food for a day when they emerged from the canyon. Before them, at the foot of a long gentle hill, was a plain that stretched to the horizon. A quarter of a mile away was a small hill, and on this were two giant hexagons.
They stopped to look dully at their goal. Wolff said, “I suggest we take one or the other gate immediately. Perhaps there may be food on the other side.”
“If not?” Tharmas said.
“I’d rather die quickly trying to get through Urizen’s defenses than starve slowly. Which, at the moment, looks as if it might. . .”
He let his voice trail off, thinking that the Lords felt low enough.
They followed him sluggishly up to the foot of the golden, gem-studded frames. He said to Vala, “Sister, you have the honor of choosing the right or the left entrance for us. Continue. Only be quick about it. I can hear my strength ebbing away.”
She picked up a stone, turned her back to the gates, and cast the stone over her head. It sailed through the right gate, almost striking the frame.
“So be it,” Wolff said. He looked at them and laughed. “What a crew! Brave Lords! Tramps rather! Sticks, a broken sword, a knife, and muscles shaking with weakness and bellies groaning for meat. Was ever a Lord attacked in his own stronghold by such a contemptible bunch?”
Vala laughed and said, “At least you have some spirit left, Jadawin. That may mean something.”
“I hope so,” he said, and he ran forward and jumped through the right gate. He came out under a deep-blue sky and onto ground that gave under his feet a little. The topography was flat except for a few steep hills, so rough and dark that they looked more like excrescences than mounds of dirt. He doubted they were dirt, since the surface on which he stood was not earth. It was brownish but smooth and with small holes in it. A foot-high stalk, thin as a pipestem cleaner, grew out of each hole.
Almost like the skin of a giant, he thought.
The only vegetation, if it could be called that, was a number of widely separated trees. These were about forty feet high, were thinly trunked, and had smooth, sharply pointed branches that projected at a forty-five degree angle upwards from the trunk. The branches were darker than the saffron of the main shaft and sparsely covered with blade-like leaves about two feet long.
The other Lords came through the gate a minute later. He turned and said, “I’m glad I didn’t find anything I couldn’t have handled without your help.”
Vala said, “They all were sure that this time the gate would lead into Urizen’s stronghold.”
“And perhaps I’d trip a few traps before I went down,” he said. “And so give the rest of you a chance to live a few minutes longer.”
They did not reply. Wolff gazed reproachfully at Luvah, whose cheeks reddened.
Wolff tested the gate. It had either been deactivated or else was unipolar. He saw a long black line that could be the shore of a lake or sea. This world, unlike the one they had just left, gave no indications of the direction they must take. On the side, where he had first stepped, however, he had seen two rough dark hills very close together. These might or not be some sort of sign from Urizen. There was only one way to find out, which Wolff took without hesitation.
He set out on the slightly springy ground, the others trailing. The shadow of a bird passed before them, and they looked up. It was white with red legs, about the size of a bald eagle, and had a monkey face with a curving bird’s beak instead of a nose. It swooped so low that Luvah threw his stick at it. The stick passed behind its flaring tail. It squawked indignantly and climbed away swiftly.
Wolff said, “That looks like a nest on that tree. Let’s see if it could have eggs.”
Luvah ran forward to recover his stick, then stopped. Wolff stared where Luvah was pointing.