WHEN THE MOUNTAIN SHOOK
By Robert Abernathy
Illustrated by Kelly Freas
[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of ScienceFiction March 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence thatthe U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
At sunset they were in sight of the Ryzga mountain. Strangely it toweredamong the cliffs and snow-slopes of the surrounding ranges: an immenseand repellently geometric cone, black, its sides blood-tinted by thedying sun.
Neena shivered, even though the surrounding cold could not reach her.The ice-wind blew from the glacier, but Var's love was round her as awarming cloak, a cloak that glowed softly golden in the deepeningtwilight, even as her love was about him.
Var said, "The Watcher's cave should be three miles beyond this pass."He stood rigid, trying to catch an echo of the Watcher's thoughts, butthere was nothing. Perhaps the old man was resting. From the otherdirection, the long way that they two had come, it was not difficult tosense the thought of Groz. That thought was powerful, and heavy withvengeance.
"Hurry," said Neena. "They're closer than they were an hour ago."
She was beautiful and defiant, facing the red sunset and the blackmountain. Var sensed her fear, and the love that had conquered it. Hefelt a wave of tenderness and bitterness. For him she had come to this.For the flame that had sprung between them at the Truce of New Grass,she had challenged the feud of their peoples and had left her home, tofollow him. Now, if her father and his kinsmen overtook them, it wouldbe death for Var, and for Neena living shame. Which of the two was worsewas no longer a simple problem to Var, who had grown much older in thelast days.
"Wait," he commanded. While she waited he spun a dream, attaching it tothe crags that loomed over the pass, and to the frozen ground underfoot.It was black night, as it would really be when Groz and his henchmenreached this place; lurid fire spewed from the Ryzga mountain, andstrange lights dipped above it; and for good measure there was anavalanche in the dream, and hideous beasts rushed snapping and raveningfrom the crevices of the rock.
"Oh!" cried Neena in involuntary alarm.
Var sighed, shaking his head. "It won't hold them for long, but it's thebest I can do now. Come on."
There was no path. Now they were descending the steeper face of thesierra, and the way led over bottomless crevasses, sheer drops and sheerascents, sheets of traitorous glare ice. Place after place had to becrossed on the air, and both grew weary with the effort such crossingscost. They hoarded their strength, helping one another; one alone mightnever have won through.
It was starry night already when they saw the light from the Watcher'scave. The light shone watery and dim from beneath the hoary back of theglacier, and as they came nearer they saw why: the cave entrance wassealed by a sheet of ice, a frozen waterfall that fell motionless fromthe rocks above. They heard no sound.
The two young people stared for a long minute, intrigued and fearful.Both had heard of this place, and the ancient who lived there to keepwatch on the Ryzga mountain, as a part of the oldest le