Man From Mundania (15 page)

more sensible, had hung on to the sandwich, and now it

paid off. They split it, and though it was squashed and

messy, it was also delicious. Hunger was a marvelous tonic

for the appetite!

They had occasion for the use of a bathroom, but there

was none here. Why was it. Grey wondered, that in stories

a man and woman could travel together for weeks in alien

realms and never had such a need?

"Uh, maybe there's a deep crack farther back in the

cave," he suggested. "Very deep, so . . ."

Ivy nodded. "We'll find it."

They moved cautiously back into the cave. The light of

day faded rapidly around the turn, slowing them further.

Then the passage divided. Grey checked one branch, and

Ivy the other, keeping in touch by calling.

His foot found a crevice. He explored it with his toe. It

was about six inches across, and too deep to fathom. "Ivy!

I found it!" he called.

"So did I!" she called back.

"Maybe it's the same crack!"

"You use yours and I'll use mine," she suggested.

Good idea. This was like separate bathrooms. It was a

bit awkward in the dark, but he managed.

There was a roar from deep below, as of a monster who

had just had a bad experience. Grey leaped away from the

crevice. Then he headed back toward the front of the cave,

eager to return to daylight. He knew it was just a recording

intended to scare him, but it was coming too close to suc-

ceeding.

He almost collided with Ivy as the branches merged.

"Maybe that wasn't the best place after all," she said.

Grey didn't argue. They hurried on out and into the

blinding daylight, letting the echoing roars fade behind.

There was no sign of the storm; Fracto had blown himself

out.

Steps resumed. They moved on up and around, circling

the narrowing mountain a second time. But just as they

completed the loop, the path ended.

They stopped, dismayed. The path did not exactly end;

it turned inward and angled up the mountain so steeply as

to become a cliff, until it disappeared into a circular open-

ing. There was no way they could climb that slope! But

they could not go straight ahead; it was a sheer drop to

the next ledge below.

"But we were never on that ledge!" Grey protested.

"How can we be above it when we never walked on it?"

"There must be more than one spiral up the moun-

tain," Ivy said.

"But it looks like one! I mean—"

"Things are seldom exactly what they look like, in

Xanth, and less so in the gourd," she said. "The entrance

to that spiral could be masked in illusion, or the mountain

could change its configuration each day. We may be on

the same spiral we started on."

She was talking magic again. Grey let it pass. "We

need to find a way down to that ledge. See, it goes on up

and around the mountain; it must be the right one."

"Well, we could hold hands and jump down."

"No!" he cried, fearing that she was serious. "I mean,

let's not tempt fate, or whatever. It will be easier to walk

back down than it was to climb up here."

"Besides which, it might be cheating to jump," she

said. "Challenges have to be met the right way, or they're

no good. We'll never get to the top if we do it wrong."

Grey was happy to agree. They reversed course and

walked back the way they had come.

Actually, it wasn't much easier going down than it had

been going up; their knees weren't toughened to it. They

trudged on as quickly as possible, not wanting to have to

spend another night on the slope. For one thing, the fa-

cilities at the castle at the top were surely better than those

of the cave, and without nether monsters.

They came back to that cave, and now the ledge they

wanted was above them. But if it was part of a double

spiral, where was the lower loop of it? Grey saw no change

in yesterday's mountainscape.

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Man from Mundania

Man from Mundania

69

Then he looked beyond the mountain. "Uh-oh!"

Ivy looked at him. "What?"

"Look away from the mountain! What do you see?"

She looked. "Why, it's changed!" she said, surprised.

Indeed, the approach path from the original cave (now

a picture) was gone. They were in a broad green plain,

with thick grass and luxuriant trees. There were mountains

in the distance—conventional ones, that had not been there

before.

"This mountain is the same," he said. "But everything

else is different!"

"I told you things could be strange in the gourd," she

reminded him.

Grey strove to find a nonmagical explanation for this

phenomenon. "Maybe the rain last night made the dor-

mant vegetation of the plain grow.''

"And the different mountains?" Ivy inquired snidely.

"I'm still working on them."

They resumed their trek. Just beyond the cave they

turned a comer, and spied what they had missed the day

before because of the distraction of the storm: a flight of

steps rising to the higher ledge! The configuration of the

mountain hadn't changed; they just hadn't been paying at-

tention. That was a relief to Grey.

But the middle of this stairway was broken. Evidently a

boulder or something had fallen here, and smashed out a

section.

They had no choice: they had to scramble over the de-

bris. Grey led the way, proceeding very carefully, finding

secure handholds and footholds. The very jaggedness of

it helped, because sharp edges were easier to grasp than

smooth planes. He had to work his way up an almost ver-

tical section, but got hold of the undamaged step above

and managed to haul himself up. Then he lay on the step

and reached down to help haul Ivy up. She was fairly

athletic, which was a quality he liked, and made it up

without too much trouble.

Then they dusted themselves off and moved up the re-

maining steps to the upper ledge.

Now the mystery unraveled. This ledge actually began

here! It dead-ended below, and proceeded on up. It was

as if it were the continuation of the ledge they had been

on before, but had gotten sheered away and set lower.

Perhaps this had happened long ago, and later someone

had built the stairway to reach it, and still later the boulder

had smashed the stairs. Grey wondered just how old this

mountain was!

They walked up the new ledge, coming to the point

above the cave they had spent the night in. Here there was

a right angle in the ledge and in the rock below, almost

like the prow of a ship.

Grey stopped abruptly. He gazed out across the plain

again. Sure enough—it had changed some more. The grass

and trees were different, and the distant mountains had

come closer.

"This thing's a ship!" he exclaimed. "It's sailing

through the valley!"

Ivy considered. "Yes, I suppose it is. I told you things

are strange in the gourd."

That set him back. He was arguing the case for magic!

There had to be some other explanation. Maybe the mists

of the prior day had concealed most of the surrounding

scenery, and it appeared to change as those mists cleared.

"Let's get on up to the top," he said gruffly.

They resumed their walk. Grey's legs were tired, and

he knew Ivy felt the same. But the realization that they

were back on track buoyed them both, and they made good

progress.

Then the ledge became another bridge. This time it was

no partial thing; it was a far-ranging span that narrowed

alarmingly at the apex. Grey looked at it and quailed.

"Now all we need is a st—" Ivy began with disgust.

"Don't say it! It might come! The last thing we want is

a—a you-know-what!" He refused to say the word

"storm."

She smiled, a trifle grimly. "I think your unbelief is

wavering, Grey! You are right; it is not smart to speak the

names of those you don't want to hear. But even without

that, how are we going to cross? I don't feel that steady

on my feet."

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Man from Mundania

She spoke for them both! "It gets so narrow—maybe

we can sit astride it there, and sort of hump across."

"Hump across?"

"I've done it on schoolyard mounted logs," he ex-

plained. "You sort of put your hands down and lift your

body and bump forward. You can move along pretty well

when you get the hang of it. If you lose your balance, you

just lock your legs around the log. You can't fall, really,

if you keep your head." He sat down and demonstrated,

awkwardly, on the flat surface.

"How clever!" Ivy exclaimed, delighted. "Let's go!"

Grey led the way again. This wasn't because he was

brave, but because he just couldn't see making Ivy take a

risk he wouldn't take himself. He pretended it was routine,

but the truth was he was tight with fear. His hands were

sweating, and his jaw was clenched; he hoped it didn't show.

He walked as far as he dared, because that was the most

efficient way to travel. Then he got down on hands and

knees. When the arch became too narrow for that, he put

his legs down and straddled the stone. He put his hands

behind and heaved, humping his body forward.

It worked. He kept doing it until the bridge peaked,

descended, and widened. He tried not to look down, be-