behind him. He wished there was something he could say to close the gap that had opened up between them, something that could repair their easy fellowship, but he couldn't think of anything. Jermayan was as stubborn as all the Elves, and wasn't going to change his mind about Vestakia, or be pleased with Kellen for taking her part.
But if Jermayan hated Vestakia, it was because he hated all Demons, and Kellen had no doubt that destroying the Barrier was his highest priority. Jermayan would do what he had come to do.
'It will be over soon—one way or another,' he said to Jermayan.
'One way or another,' the Elven Knight echoed grimly. 'And I hope your human heart has not betrayed you, Wildmage.'
Kellen supposed that this was as good as he was going to get in the way of a reconciliation. He turned away and began to climb.
The half-dome was steep, and it was also absolutely bare rock. There was a sort of furrow in it that gave purchase to his hands and feet, and Kellen used it to pull himself up to where the incline was less steep and he could actually move forward in a sort of crablike crouch over the pale stone. Without Vestakia, he and Jermayan would never have found this route to the Barrier, not in weeks of searching.
As he caught up to Vestakia, he could see her shuddering. She would shake for a moment, clinging desperately to some invisible cracks in the rock, then the spell would pass and she would creep forward a pace or two before the shivering started again.
'It is wearing off,' she said glumly. She pointed, ahead and to the left. 'Whatever it is, it's that way.'
Kellen looked where she was pointing. They still had to climb a good distance to reach the top of the dome of rock they were on, and he could see nothing beyond that, but what he saw around and behind him suggested more of the same kind of terrain—mountains and high hills, the only vegetation a little moss and lichen at most, the rock scoured clean by the battles of that long-ago war. Once they got to the top here, they might have some serious climbing ahead, and none of them had brought so much as a coil of rope. And worst of all, there was no more than an hour or two of good light left at best.
But they were close to their goal—close enough that they had to press on immediately, because they were already within the pall of Shadow Mountain's influence, and Kellen was coming to suspect that spending very much time here wasn't very healthy for living things. He followed Vestakia and Shalkan. He was relieved to see that the unicorn was staying close to her, but Vestakia seemed to be completely recovered from her earlier beating, and was moving without difficulty.
And they were close to their goal—
Now he sensed it; the despair and the bitter ache at his bones had a source, close enough that they had to press on immediately.
When they reached the top of the rock dome, it proved to be no more than the foothill of a true mountain, and Vestakia was miserable for other reasons. She'd thrown back the hood of her cloak, and her ruby skin was beaded with sick-sweat. She was breathing hard, almost panting, holding her stomach as if she were in pain. Kellen wondered if she could go on.
'Still want to take the lead?' he asked. 'Or do you need to rest a little?'
'I'm fine,' she said irritably, in answer to his query. 'It's far worse than this when there's a Demon around.'
'There's a path up the mountain,' Jermayan said, as if speaking pained him. 'Look, there, where that shadow starts, see? It's narrow, and you can barely see it, but it's there.' He looked right at Kellen, obviously waiting for a decision.
Kellen looked in the direction that he had indicated, and made out the beginning of a goat track in the shadows around the curve of the cliff. It didn't look very wide, and it climbed rather steeply. If it got any narrower, they'd be edging their way to the top with their backs plastered against the stone wall.
'Then that's the way we go,' Kellen said reluctantly. Vestakia nodded, very slightly, confirming his guess that that was the direction of the strongest Demon-taint. It looked like a long climb. Once they reached the top, it would be too dark to return safely. Kellen touched the pouch with the keystone, more to reassure himself than anything else. In his half-formed imaginings of the moment when he reached the Barrier, he'd always supposed it would be full daylight, that he'd be rested and ready for the final fight, not arriving after a long day of brawls, petty squabbles, and climbing up the side of a mountain. His bruises ached, he was tired, and he hated being at odds with Jermayan. Depression weighed him down as if he were carrying a full pack. Despair whispered that he was about to fail. The bitter air burned his throat and made him horribly thirsty. It seemed that Reality always managed to play tricks with your dreams and imagination, turning your fantasies inside out when it made them come true.
Jermayan drew his sword with a hiss of steel. As Kellen turned toward him, the Elven Knight met his eyes and inclined his head ever-so-slightly. Despite his misgivings, Jermayan would follow where he led.
Kellen turned back toward the mountain, and pointed. 'Let's go. The sun won't wait for us.'
Shalkan led the way, his white fur glowing almost as brightly as it had the first time Kellen had seen him. So short a time, measured in sennights, but it held a lifetime of experiences. Now Kellen was gambling—with all their
