Corpang gave a wry smile. “During your long sleep you appear to have picked up wisdom.”
“Yes, Corpang, I have met many men, and explored many minds.”
As they moved off, Maskull remembered Haunte.
“Can we not bury that poor fellow?”
“By this time tomorrow we shall need burial ourselves. But I do not include Corpang.”
“We have no tools, so you must have your way. You killed him, but I am the real murderer. I stole his protecting light.”
“Surely that death is balanced by the life you have given me.” They left the spot in the direction opposite to that by which the three men had arrived. After a few steps, they came to green snow again. At the same time the flat ground ended, and they started to traverse a steep, pathless mountain slope. The snow and rocks glimmered, their own bodies shone; otherwise everything was dark. The mists swirled around them, but Maskull had no more nightmares. The breeze was cold, pure, and steady. They walked in file, Sullenbode leading; her movements were slow and fascinating. Corpang came last. His stern eyes saw nothing ahead but an alluring girl and a half-infatuated man.
For a long time they continued crossing the rough and rocky slope, maintaining a slightly upward course. The angle was so steep that a false step would have been fatal. The high ground was on their right. After a while, the hillside on the left hand changed to level ground, and they seemed to have joined another spur of the mountain. The ascending slope on the right hand persisted for a few hundred yards more. Then Sullenbode bore sharply to the left, and they found level ground all around them.
“We are on the ridge,” announced the woman, halting.
The others came up to her, and at the same instant the moon burst through the clouds, illuminating the whole scene.