I could not be sure if I were making any progress; my fears might be very well founded and I might be wandering in a circle, utterly lost. Only the tugging at me continued, and I believed, as time passed, I was growing more alert to its direction, found it easier to answer. My hands grazed rocks on either side. But then my outstretched palms flattened against a hard surface. Not harsh contact with rough stone-I slid them back and forth across smoothness. And that was so foreign I dared to open my eyes.
Light, dazzling, threatening to engulf me, to burn me to ashes. Yet no heat against my hands. It was blinding and I dared not look upon it.
Back and forth I examined it by touch up and down. It filled a gap between two walls through which I had come, stretching from beyond a point above as high as I could reach, down to the ground. There was no break, or even rough spot on the whole invisible surface.
I edged back, tried to find some other way past. But there was none, and my guide pulled me ever into the defile which was so stoppered. At last I dropped to the ground. This, then, must be the end. No way forward except one barred, and no guide back if I strove to retrace my steps. I dropped my head to rest on my hunched knees-
But-I sat not on stone-I rode a horse. Daring to open my eyes because this I could not believe-I saw Rathkas’ tossing mane, her small ear. We were in a green and golden land, fair to look upon. Kildas-there was Kildas-and Solfinna. They wore flower wreaths on their heads and white blossoms were twisted into their reins. Also they were singing, the whole company sang-as did
And I also knew that this was one side of the coin of truth, just as the twisted rock maze and the barrier of light was the other. I wanted to shout aloud-but my lips shaped only the words of the song.
“Herrel!” In me rose the cry I could not voice-“Herrel!” If he knew, he could unite the whole-I would not be Gillan ahorse with the brides of the Dales, nor Gillan lost among the rocks-but whole again!
I looked about me and saw the company strung out along a green banked Jane. And the Riders, too, wore flowers upon their helms. They had the seeming of handsome men, not unlike those of the Dales, with the beast quite hidden and gone. And very joyful was that company-yet he I sought was not among them.
“Ah, Gillan,” Kildas spoke to me, “have you ever seen so fair a day? It would seem that spring and summer have wedded and that we have the best of both to welcome us to this land.”
“It is so.” my lips answered for the one who was not wholly Gillan.
“It is odd,” Kildas laughed, “but I have been trying to remember what it was like, back in the Dales. And it is like a dream which fades from one’s waking hour. Nor is there any reason for us to remember-“
But there is! cried my inner self. For I am of the Dales yet and must be united-
There came a rider up beside me, holding out a branch which flowered with waxy white blooms, giving off such perfume as to make the senses swim.
“Sweet, my lady.” he said. “Yet not as sweet as she who would accept my gift-“
My hand went to the branch-“Herrel-“
But as I raised my eyes from the flowers to him who offered them I saw a bear’s red eyes on his helm. And beneath that his own narrowed, holding mine in a tight gaze. Then his hand flashed up between us, and in its palm was a small, glittering thing which pulled my attention so that I could not look away.
I raised my head from my knees. Shadows, darkness about me in a pool which denied that green and gold had ever been. I rode not with flowers and spring about me, I crouched alone among enchanted stones in the cold of winter. But this I brought with me-the knowledge that there were indeed two Gillans-one who strove to reach the other side of these heights in painful weariness, and one who still companied with those from the Dales. And until those two were one again there was no true life for rne.
It had been Halse beside me on that ride, and he had recognized my return to the other Gillan, had driven me back here. But Herrel-where had he been, what had he to do with that other Gillan?
Now I was also aware that in the dark the dizzy many-sight had ceased, that I could look about me without meeting that giddy whirl of landscape. Had the barrier also vanished?
I crept back between the rocks to face-not the blinding light which had been there earlier, but a glow-a wall of green light. I approached it, put my hands to its surface. Yes, it was as firm as ever. And it was sorcery, of that I was certain. Whether of Rider brewing, or merely some long set safeguard, I did not know. But I must find a way through it, or past it.
Here I could not climb the walls as I had in the valley. And surely I had nothing to dig underneath, I thought a little wildly. With the fading of its day-glare I could see through it.
Beyond lay an open space, an end to the tumble of rocks which had choked my back trail. Perhaps with those behind I need not fear any longer the bewildering of my sight. But how to pass the barrier-
I leaned back against the rock and stared at it hopelessly. It could not be too thick; I could see through it so easily. If I might shape change as easily as those I trailed-wear an eagle’s body for a space, this would be no more than a stride. But that was not my magic.
What was my magic-the will which had served me How could I apply that one poor weapon here? I could see no way-yet find one I must!
That Which Runs the Ridges
I WAS cold, I hungered, both for that which I might take into my mouth and swallow, and that which had been rift from me. And I was caged, for there was no return, nor, it would seem, no going forward from this place.
Down in the Dales I had gone afield with Dame Alousan and some of the village women upon occasion, seeking out herbs, and their roots. And in the summer I had seen webs of field spiders spun between two small bushes or tussocks of grass to form a barrier-
Why did I now have such a memory picture? A web set up between two more solid anchors-? As this wall of light confronting me between stones-
I raised my head, looked more closely at those stones. There was no climbing them-twice my height and a little more, they were sleek and had no handholds. For they were a part of this ancient wall or fortification. Yet those portions between which hung the curtain of light were not a part of the bulk, rather posts of a sort, separate from the rest as the supports of a doorway. Creeping forward I discovered I was able to push fingers knuckle deep between them and the other rocks.
A spider’s web-Eluding the danger of the sticky cords it could be brought to naught by the breaking of its supports. So wild a thought yet my mind fastened on it, perhaps because I could see no other way. I had brought the bone vial out of the bag by will. But these were no light bottle, these were weighty stones, such as many men might labour to dislodge. And how could I be sure that moving one would break the curtain?
I covered my eyes, leaned back against the stone of the wall. Though the fur rug was about me, still I could feel its chill, its denial of what that wild thought urged me to try. And always on me that pull from beyond-
Now I looked again to the curtain pillars. To my sight they seemed equally deep set, not to be tumbled from that planting. So I turned my eyes upon that one which stood to the left, and I called upon my power of will.
Fall! Fall! I beat my desire upon it as I would have beat body, hands, all my physical strength had such been able to serve me. Fall! Tremble and fall! I did not have to think of time as I had in the camp of the Hounds. Time here was meaningless-there was only the pillar-and the curtain-and the need for passing it. Fall-tremble and fall!