His sword unsheathed, Huma began following the only available path.
There was nothing out of the ordinary, just rocks, scraggly bushes, and a high-flying bird now and then.
The path suddenly split off into two directions. Huma paused, suspecting that he really had only one choice. But which?
He pondered for some time before he noticed the tap-tap beat coming from behind him. Huma whirled, his blade up and ready. He had been expecting an ogre or perhaps one of the Black Guard; instead, he found himself facing a hooded figure sitting on a large, flat rock.
The tap-tap came from a staff much like Magius’s, and it was Held by a gray, gloved hand partially covered by the sleeve of a cloak. The gray cloak, in turn, covered most of the form of a—Huma stepped closer to be sure—a gray-faced man.
The gray man stroked his long, gray beard and smiled almost imperceptively at the knight.
Huma lowered the blade—but not all the way. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Who are you?” the gray man rejoined.
The knight frowned but decided to play the game for now. “I am Huma, Knight of the Order of the Crown.”
“A Knight of Solamnia.” The dull-colored figure spoke as if he had known it all along. The staff went tap-tap.
“I’ve answered your question; now answer mine.”
“I?” The gray man smiled, revealing gray teeth. “I am merely a fellow traveler.”
Huma indicated the area around them. “This is not your doing?”
“The mountains? Oh, no. They’ve been here for a long time, I understand.”
“I meant the paths that vanish.” The other’s eccentric attitude irritated Huma.
“I do not move mountains. It is quite possible that you are just not seeing well enough with your eyes.” The figure on the rock blended perfectly into the background. Huma found that to look away even for a moment meant he had to look carefully to find the man again. No doubt, the gray man had been sitting on the rock when Huma came through moments earlier. The knight had never seen him.
“Are you a magic-user?” Huma queried.
The tap-tap of the staff ceased for the moment. “Now that is an interesting question.”
The tapping resumed.
“Well?” Huma was fighting for control.
The gray man seemed to think for a moment. Then he pointed the staff toward the two paths behind Huma and asked, “Were you not choosing a path? You should get on with it, you know. You might be going somewhere important.”
“Very well. Which one would you choose?” Huma held his breath, wondering if he was going to receive an answer that made some sense.
After further consultation with himself, the slate-colored man pointed the staff at the path to the left. “That one has been proved to be quite popular.”
“Thank you.” Huma stalked off toward the chosen path. He wanted nothing more to do with gray men and paths that came and went. The sooner he was away—
“Of course,” the odd figure added, “Others have found the right path to be the right path.”
Huma stopped. He turned and stared coldly at the gray man. “Which would you choose?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
The knight studied the two paths. From where he stood, they looked identical. He could not make a choice based on appearances. He would have to go with his instincts.
Purposefully, Huma stepped over to the trail on the right and began walking. He did not look back, even when the familiar tap-tap picked up again.
The parting comment, though, did cause him to pause momentarily.
“An interesting choice.”
The tapping ceased. Huma, despite himself, turned around.
The path—and the gray man—had disappeared. In their place stood a tall, angling peak.
Huma trudged along the winding trail for hours. He noted that the sun was already low in the sky, which meant that he had been separated from the others a good part of the day. Calling out had proved futile.
The wind had picked up. Huma drew his cloak around him, daring to sheath his sword so he could pull the garment tighter. He wondered how cold it got in these mountains and then decided it would be best not to think about it.
Where were Magius and Kaz? He hoped the minotaur and the magic-user would not kill one another now that Huma was not there to keep both under rein.
His stomach stirred in hunger again, prompting a vague twinge of guilt. Fasting was a rite of purification for the knighthood. A few hours should not have affected him.
A few berries dotted the bushes he passed, but previous experiments had proved them to be inedible and possibly even poisonous. He had seen no sign of animal life and had heard none, save the occasional cry of whatever creature waited out there. A great bird, perhaps. What did it eat, then? Unwary and foolish travelers?
Evening finally fell, and Huma waited for a sign from Magius. Neither light nor sound came through the darkness, however. Huma was still on his own when night had grown to maturity.
The night was bright, for a change. Somehow, the stars always seemed to shine through the cloud cover where the sun could not. Perhaps most encouraging, Solinari was at last ascendant. The god of the White Robes now watched over the world, and although Magius wore the robes of crimson Huma hoped that Solinari would watch over his friend as well.
Huma finally paused for the night, tired and confused, determined to go on once morning came. He crawled under an overhang in a fairly level spot and wrapped his cloak around him; a fire was out of the question. Huma had survived worse, but hunger pangs continued to irritate him, even as he drifted away into sleep.
Huma stirred. A sound, like the flapping of mighty wings, had pulled him from his slumber. Peering from his shelter, he saw nothing but the night and decided it was only a rockfall or the wind. He was soon back to sleep.
From behind a far outcropping, two gleaming, blood-red eyes peered sightlessly at the unsuspecting figure. The dreadwolf was set to watch only, not to kill—not this time. Yet the slumbering human made a satisfactory target, and of the abomination began to slink forward, yellowed teeth bared. It readied itself to leap—and a monstrous claw slashed out and crushed it beyond the undead thing’s ability to regenerate. Not a sound broke the night stillness. Huma stirred again but did not awaken.
The dawn brought with it the feeling that he was not alone.
Huma scanned the surrounding area. All remained as it had been the day before, save that the weather had grown a little warmer. Hunger still touched him, but he was beginning to gain control over it—or perhaps he had passed that point when it mattered.
He dared call out to his companions. The wind was weaker, and Huma thought that this time he might be heard. If that meant facing the creature that cried out yesterday, so be it.
There was no response to his shouts, either from the mage and minotaur or from the nameless creature. Huma gave up shouting and renewed his walk down the odd path. He no longer cared whether he could even retrace his steps.
To his surprise and pleasure, the trail became smoother and simpler to follow. And food was available—berries from a new type of bush. When they proved to be palatable, he began devouring all he could find. Of course, any poison might be slow in acting, but Huma recognized these plants. He decided that whatever had created the path wanted him alive for the time being.
At last, when he began to believe the path would go on forever, the trail stopped before a shining pool of water surrounded by fruit-bearing trees and a garden. Thirsty, he hurried to the edge of the pool. The water could not be poisonous if such life surrounded it, and Huma leaned down and scooped up a handful. The moisture trickled down his chin as he drank. Not satisfied with that, he knelt and bent forward to sip from the pool itself.