cut off from sight by
the intervening masses of the cliffs themselves. But there was no
possibility that they could climb higher today. Although Mathild had
born the climb surprisingly well, and Honath himself still felt almost
fresh, Alaskon was completely winded. He had taken a bad cut on one hip
from a serrated spike of volcanic glass against which he had stumbled.
The wound, bound with leaves to prevent its leaving a spoor which might
be followed, evidently was becoming steadily more painful.

Honath finally called a halt as soon as they reached the little ridge
with the cave in back of it. Helping Alaskon over the last boulders, he
was astonished to discover how hot the navigator's hands were. He took
him back into the cave and then came out onto the ledge again.

"He's really sick," he told Mathild in a low voice. "He needs water, and
another dressing for that cut. And we've got to get both for him
somehow. If we ever get to the jungle on the other side of the Range,
we'll need a navigator even worse than we need a needlesmith."

"But how? I could dress the cut if I had the materials, Honath. But
there's no water up here. It's a desert; we'll never get across it."

"We've got to try. I can get him water, I think. There was a big
cycladella on the slope we came up, just before we passed that obsidian
spur that hurt Alaskon. Gourds that size usually have a fair amount of
water inside them and I can use a piece of the spur to rip it open--"

A small hand came out of the darkness and took him tightly by the elbow.
"Honath, you can't go back down there. Suppose the demon that--that took
Charl is still following us? They hunt at night--and this country is all
so strange...."

"I can find my way. I'll follow the sound of the stream of blue lava or
whatever it is. You pull some fresh leaves for Alaskon and try to make
him comfortable. Better loosen those vines around the dressing a little.
I'll be back."

He touched her hand and pried it loose gently. Then, without stopping to
think about it any further, he slipped off the ledge and edged toward
the sound of the stream, travelling crabwise on all fours.

But he was swiftly lost. The night was thick and completely
impenetrable, and he found that the noise of the stream seemed to come
from all sides, providing him no guide at all. Furthermore, his memory
of the ridge which led up to the cave appeared to be faulty, for he
could feel it turning sharply to the right b