But it was a long journey with few shortcuts. I’d have plenty of time to mull it over.
The sky was growing lighter when I crossed the last rocky slope to reach the wide trail at the foot of Kolvir to the northwest. I regarded a stand of trees across the way, one large one a familiar landmark . . .
With a dazzling flash that seemed to sizzle and a bomblike report of thunder the tree was split, not a hundred meters away. I’d flung up both hands at the lightning stroke, but I could still hear cracking wood and the echo of the blast for several seconds afterward.
Then a voice cried out, “Go back!”
I assumed I was the subject of this conversational gambit. “May we talk this over?” I responded.
There was no reply.
I stretched out in a shallow declivity beside the trail, then crawled along it for several body lengths to a place where the cover was better. I was listening and watching the while, hoping that whoever had pulled that stunt would betray his position in some fashion.
Nothing happened, but for the next half minute I surveyed the grove and a portion of the slope down which I had come. From that angle their proximity gave me a small inspiration.
I summoned the image of the Logrus, and two of its lines became my arms. I reached then, not through Shadow but up the slope to where a fairly good-sized rock was poised above a mass of others.
Seizing hold, I drew upon it. It was too heavy to topple easily, so I began rocking it. Slowly, at first. Finally, I got it to the tipping point and it tumbled. It fell among the others and a small cascade began. I withdrew further as they struck and sent new ones bouncing. Several big ones bean to roll. A fracture line gave way when they fell upon its edge at a steeper place. An entire sheet of stone groaned and cracked, began to slide.
I could feel the vibration as I continued my withdrawal. I had not anticipated setting off anything this spectacular. The rocks bounced, slid and flew into the grove. I watched the trees sway, saw some of them go down. I heard the crunching, the pinging, the breaking.
I gave it an extra half minute after what seemed its end. There was much dust in the air and half of the grove was down. Then I rose to my feet, Frakir dangling from my left hand, and I advanced upon the grove.
I searched carefully, but there was no one there. I climbed upon the trunk of a fallen tree.
“I repeat, do you care to talk about it?” I called out. No answer.
“Okay, be that way,” I said, and I headed north into Arden.
I heard the sound of horses occasionally as I hiked through that ancient forest. If I was being followed, though, the horsemen showed no interest in closing with me. Most likely, I was passing in the vicinity of one of Julian’s patrols.
Not that it mattered. I soon located a trail and began the small adjustments that bore me farther and farther from them.
A lighter shade, from brown to yellow, and slightly shorter trees . . .
Fewer breaks in the leafy canopy . . . Odd bird note, strange mushroom . . .
Little by little, the character of the wood was altered. And the shifting grew easier and easier the farther this took me from Amber.
I began to pass sunny clearings. The sky grew a paler blue . . . The trees were all green now, but most of them saplings . . .
I broke into a jog.
Masses of clouds came into view, the spongy earth grew firmer, drier . . .
I stepped up my pace, heading downhill. Grasses were more abundant. The trees were divided into clusters now, islands in a waving sea of those pale grasses. My view took in a greater distance. A flapping, beaded curtain off to my right: rain.
Rumbles of thunder came to me, though sunlight continued to light my way. I breathed deeply of the clean damp air and ran on.