When she’d started ascending, the top of the peak had been as sharply pointed as the tip of an ice cream cone. Now it had slumped and become a plateau about sixty feet in diameter. The ground felt hot, indicating an increase in rate of shape-mutation.
Urthona and McKay were almost a quarter of the way up the slope. They were sitting down, facing away from her. Just above them the surface was swelling so rapidly that they would soon be
hidden from her sight. If the protuberance spread out, they’d have to go around it. Which meant they’d be slowed down even more.
Her view of the plain was considerably broader now. She looked along the channel, hoping to see a tiny figure that would be Kickaha. There was none.
Even from her height, she could not see the end of the channel. About twenty miles beyond the point at which she’d left it, young mountains had grown to cut off her view. There was no telling how far the channel extended.
Where was Red Orc? In all the excitement, she had forgotten about him.
Wherever he was, he wasn’t visible to her.
She scanned the area beyond her perch. There were mountains beyond mountains. But between them were, as of now, passes, and here and there were ridges connecting them. On one of the ridges was a band of green contrasting with the rusty grass. It moved slowly but not so much that she didn’t know the green was an army of migrating trees. It looked as if it were five miles away.
Scattered along the slopes and in the valleys were dark splotches. These would be composed of antelopes and other large herbivores. Though basically plains creatures, they adapted readily to the mountains. They could climb like goats when the occasion demanded.
Having attained the top, should she wait a while and see what her pursuers would do? Climbing after her was very exhausting. They might think she’d try to double back on them, come down one side of the mountain, around the corner where they couldn’t see her. That wasn’t a bad idea.
If the two should split up, each going around the mountain to meet in the middle, then she’d just go straight back down as soon as they got out of sight.
However, if they didn’t take action soon, she’d have to do so. The plateau was growing outward and downward. Sinking rather. If she stayed here, she might find herself on the plain again.
No. that process would take at least a day. Perhaps two. And her uncle and his thug would be doing something in the meantime.
She began to get hungry and thirsty. When she’d started for the mountain, she’d hoped to find water on its other side. From what she could see, she was going to stay thirsty unless she went back to the channel. Or unless those wisps of clouds became thick black rainclouds.
She waited and watched. The edge of the plateau on which she sat slowly extended outwards. Finally, she knew she had to get off of it. In an hour or so it would begin crumbling along its rim. The apex of the cone was becoming a pancake. She’d have a hard time getting off it without being precipitated down the slope with a piece of it.
There was an advantage. The two men below would have to dodge falling masses. There might be so many they’d be forced to retreat to the plain. If she were lucky, they might even be struck by a hurtling bounding clump.
She went to the other side-the diameter of the circle was now a hundred feet. After dropping the Horn and the axe, she let herself down cautiously. Her feet dangled for a moment, and she let loose. That was the only way to get down, even though she had to fall thirty feet. She struck the slope, which was still at a forty-five-degree angle, and slid down for a long way. The grass burned her
hands as she grabbed handholds; the friction against the seat of her pants and the legs didn’t make the cloth smoke. But she was sure that if she hadn’t succeeded in stopping when she did, the fabric would have been hot enough to burst into flames. At least, she felt that it would.