far away I was from the entrance where my friends were waiting for me.
Zagraba was good. A lot better than the Palaces of Bone. I could find some way to feed myself here, and the chances of running into serious trouble were incomparably smaller than underground. And to be quite honest, if I’d stayed in Hrad Spein, there would have been one more dead man in the catacombs, because I couldn’t have coped with the return journey, especially without any maps. And so may all the gods be praised!
On the other hand, it was worth giving a little thought to where I actually was. I was in the Golden Forest in Zagraba, but where exactly, and how long would it take me to reach the group? But then, what was I saying? Reach the group … I didn’t know where the gates of Hrad Spein were now, and wandering around Zagraba without knowing where you were going was like … well, wandering round Zagraba without knowing where you were going.
A stupid waste of time. And in addition, bearing in mind that I’d tramped darkness only knew how many leagues through the Palaces of Bone, and then been thrown out into Zagraba right above Grok’s tomb, I would be walking to the gates of Hrad Spein for quite a long time. I had only one chance—to go northward and hope that I would emerge from the Golden Forest and find myself in more familiar territory, perhaps even somewhere inhabited. And then I could figure out what was what. And, of course, I could put my trust in Egrassa’s amulet. It had saved me from the Kaiyu, and I could hope it would tell the elf where to look for me.
A large golden leaf traced a golden arc across the sky and landed precisely on my face. I removed the pestiferous object and flung it away. The leaves were falling. May the most revolting member of the family of demons devour me! It was only now I realized that while I was underground, September had come to an end. So it was only natural that the leaves were falling and the sky had turned that bottomless pale violet color.
Of course, this wasn’t Avendoom, where it was already quite cold and there was torrential rain at the end of September, but even in Zagraba there was a faint breath of autumn in the air. I had to get out of the forest before the real rain and cold weather came, with the frosts to follow. With no cloak and just a sweater to keep me warm, sooner or later the cold would kill me.
Fortunately for me, although I was a city dweller, For had taught me all sorts of useful things, and I could tell which way was north. I ought to find a small animal track—walking along that would be a lot easier than forcing my way through the brush and dried grass. I was also a little concerned about the chances of coming across some swamp or running into a pack of wolves.
Zagraba was beautiful, as always.
The forest was dressed in its astoundingly brilliant autumn colours, reveling in the colors of decay—gold and fiery red. Bright yellow groves of redbrow that had already lost its blossom merged smoothly into golden groves of golden-leafs, and they gave way to fiery red splashes of Zagraban rowan and aspen. The blue leaves of tears-of- woe were like fantastic fairy-tale islands in autumn’s golden kingdom. Only the gloomy, severe fir trees, with their dirty green color, rebelled against ubiquitous autumn and refused to join in the September festival. The ground was completely covered with a thick, undisturbed layer of fallen leaves. The air in the forest was still and quiet as the giant started falling asleep on the threshold of winter. I seemed to be completely alone in Zagraba.
I walked until nightfall and—miracle of miracles—didn’t feel tired at all. I didn’t find any track, but the walking was relatively easy. No fallen trees, no gorges, no swamps. Only one small stream cut across my path, winding through the massive roots of the golden-leafs.
It got dark quickly in the forest, and I barely had enough time to find myself a place to rest by the broken trunk of an old alder. Dim twilight descended and then in a single moment it was replaced by impenetrable darkness. The sky turned hazy, without a single star, and only the small copper coin of the full moon peeped through the haze, like a pale imitation of the moon that had shone in the sky in the middle of summer.
Although I was thoroughly sick of them, I had a snack of the fruits from the Cave of the Ants. I didn’t feel like sleeping and I just sat there, gazing into the darkness of the forest at night. After a while, little colored lights started appearing on the trees nearby. The forest spirits were starting to wake up. It wasn’t so lonely with the forest spirits for company, and I watched their blinking eyes until I was overcome by sleep.
I opened my eyes, stood up, and shivered. It was cool that morning. It had been worse at night. By the middle of it I was thoroughly chilled, and it was a miracle that I managed to get back to sleep again. If things went on like that, some night soon I’d freeze to death or catch a serious cold, as sure as eggs.
Judging from the mist clinging to the roots, it was early morning and the sun had only just risen. And I didn’t much like the look of the sky—I hoped there wouldn’t be any rain. Autumn rain is one of the vilest “pleasures” known to the traveling man.
Sagot be praised, there wasn’t any rain all day long, and I covered quite a substantial stretch of the route through Zagraba. Toward evening I came across an animal track and my speed increased significantly. Neither Valder nor the Rainbow Horn gave any signs of life. It was funny really, there I was with one of the most powerful artifacts in the world, and it was no use to me at all. No warm clothing, no trusty crossbow, no food. It could at least have sent me straight to Avendoom and not made me trudge through the autumn undergrowth!
The path dove into tangled thickets of bushes that looked suspiciously like briars, and I stupidly decided to push my way straight through them, with the result that the whole of Zagraba must have heard me swearing. But when the undergrowth came to an end, the track led me out onto the shore of a small forest lake, with dried rushes growing all around and rusty brown water with small ripples running across it.
There was about an hour left before darkness fell, so I had time to find a more comfortable place to spend the night than the shore of the lake. On summer nights and mornings, water gives off a pleasant coolness, but in autumn it makes the air cold, and I certainly didn’t want to get any colder than circumstances absolutely required. Unfortunately, there weren’t any tracks leading away from the lake and I had to trudge on as best I could, with Sagot’s help.
When I’d left the lake and a small bare ravine behind me, quite large bald spots began to appear in the forest, overgrown with low young pine trees. I walked through these as if I was out strolling along Parade Street, and I would have liked to spend the night in that spot. But my nose sounded the alarm—I caught the very faintest aroma of smoke mingling with the smell of autumn.
“Either it’s a forest fire, or someone’s lit a campfire,” I muttered, backing against the trunk of the nearest pine tree and pulling out my knife.
Anyone else lost in the great Forests of Zagraba would have acted differently—he would have gone dashing toward the fire with whoops of joy, to meet the rational beings who had lit it, but I knew better. I wasn’t going to make that mistake. The company of rational beings can be a lot more dangerous than being alone. There was no point in looking for trouble. First I had to reconnoiter properly, and then I could try shouting out: “Here I am, brothers!”
It could quite easily be a patrol of orc scouts or even worse—elf patrols that had infiltrated the orcs’ territory. The Firstborn and the Secondborn were fond of a bit of quiet slaughter on each other’s land. But at least I ought to find out who it was.
I had to advance, guided by a smell of smoke so faint that I could barely sense it. The bald spots came to an end and the forest around me was once again taken over by the majestic golden-leafs, together with low aspens and birches.
That meant I could see less, and now it was hard to make out what might be hidden behind the red and gold wall of leaves and the stockade of tree trunks. Add to the list of difficulties the onset of twilight, threatening to give way to another pitch-dark night at any moment, and things weren’t looking very good. But the smell of smoke was growing stronger, and that told me I was going in the right direction.
A twig cracked treacherously under my foot. The crunch could hardly be heard, but I froze. Ah, that was bad timing! I could thank my thief’s luck that I was still too far from the fire and I couldn’t have been heard.
You ought to be more careful, Harold, I thought for the hundredth time, shifting the knife from my right hand to my left and wiping away the sweat that had suddenly appeared on my palm. It was a long time since I’d felt so nervous. I was just like a novice, preparing to rob his first passerby!
Finally the flames of a campfire blinked between the trunks of the trees. I darted over to the nearest golden- leaf, pressed myself back against the trunk, and started staring into the thickening twilight. The fire blinked again, trembled, disappeared, and then reappeared.
“Careful, Harold! Careful! Make haste slowly!”
Twilight had given way to night. The smell of food cooking, the smell of meat, which I hadn’t tasted for a
