CHAPTER NINETY-THREE

"What ... what was that?"

It had taken Alexander and Palter two days to walk the rest of the way across the Western Plains to the base of the mountain range, mainly due to the rat's reluctance - or physical inability - to maintain a pace as brisk as before. Alex didn't begrudge his travel companion this loss of speed or time; now that they knew they'd not be rescuing Latura, this freed them to arrive at Salamandastron on their own schedule, whether that was one day behind the Gawtrybe and their prisoner, or two, or even three. And Alex really couldn't fault Palter for not wanting to rush things, considering what fate likely held in store for him upon reaching Urthblood's coastal stronghold.

The Redwall squirrel remembered from two summers before the location of the hidden trail leading up to the high mountain passes, and was able to find it again with his Forest Patrol leader's unerring sense of direction. Now he and Palter sat in the shadows of the range, mutually agreeing to call a halt for the day even though the sun marked the hour as early afternoon. Alex well recalled his former night spent up in those wind-scoured passes, and that had been at the height of summer; now, still only in the second half of spring, the cold of those barren peaks was likely to be even less tolerable. Palter accepted without argument that they would want to be over the mountains and back down the other side in a single day if they could at all manage it.

For reasons the rat and squirrel could only guess at, Urthblood's birds seemed to have all but disappeared since the last encounter with Altidor after parting ways with the Colonel and Log-a-Log, just the occasional scout glimpsed circling high in the sky before vanishing again. Clearly, the two questors - one unimposing and unarmed - were considered so negligible a threat that the Badger Lord didn't even regard them as worthy of continued surveillance ... or perhaps something else was going on. Alex forced himself not to dwell on it; if Urthblood had any other unwelcome surprises in store for them, they'd discover it soon enough.

As Alexander saw to their poor excuse for a campsite - no tents or shelters, no bedding, and a campfire only if they could find enough dead wood close to paw to start one, which seemed unlikely - a distant rumbling roar reached their ears, making them glance up at the mountain crags high above. The reverberation could be felt through the ground where they sat, momentous as a mighty clap of thunder but far more subtle. Like thunder it rolled and echoed, but the clear sky revealed no trace of any storm cloud which could have given birth to such a weather phenomenon.

"Was that ... an earthquake?" the rat wondered aloud with obvious nervousness. "I heard o' such things, tho' I ne'er did experience one m'self."

"Well, it's sure not thunder, not with that sky. But I've a feeling I know what it may be ... "

Palter stared at the squirrel in expectation. "What?"

"Could be Urthblood's trying out some new toys. Speculation's been rife for seasons now that he might have divined the formula for Tratton's stormpowder. If true, it only makes sense he'd want to test it before using it in battle. Either that, or the Accord has broken down, and Tratton's attacking Salamandastron again ... although I'm not sure we'd be able to hear and feel it so clearly if that were the case, not all the way from the coast."

A glimmer of hope danced in Palter's heart. "But, if they're fightin' again - if there ain't no Accord no more - then there'd not be any Purge neither, would there? No more roundin' up us rats, an' shippin' us off to sea. Mebbe even Lattie'd be spared, if war broke out 'fore she made it to that badger's place."

"I'd not hold my breath over that happening, friend. From what we know about how badly Urthblood wanted Latura, I'm guessing he'd still be after her, war or no war. That's almost a separate issue than anything going on with the Purge, or with Tratton and the Accord ... " Alex paused, face gone lax with distracted concentration; something about what he'd just said nagged at the corners of his mind, like a realization waiting and wanting to be discovered. Shaking it off, he continued, "Even if the Accord's failure ends up saving you by some long shot, I'm sure it's too late to do Lattie any good. Unless Tratton's hitting Salamandastron so hard it keeps Matowick from delivering her to Urthblood altogether ... "

"Hey, lookit that!" Palter suddenly declared, pointing up toward the peaks.

Alex studied the plume of dust rising up from one of the recesses in the higher elevations. "Then again, it could have just been an ordinary rockslide. Although ... "

"Altho' what?"

"Unless I'm mistaken, that rockfall - assuming that's what it was - looks to have occurred right along one of the trails we'll need to follow to get through to the coastlands. And I find that just a bit too coincidental, don't you?"

"Well, whaddya think it means?"

"The Gawtrybe weren't carrying any stormpowder with them; we'd have seen the kegs. But that doesn't mean they couldn't have rendezvoused up there with somebeasts who were, with orders from Urthblood to seal the pass to keep anybeast else from following. It could even have been Tratton's rats up there, if that badger and the Searat King are working together, as the Long Patrol have always suspected."

"Wait ... You jus' said they could be at war, an' now ye're sayin' they might be workin' t'gether. Which is it?"

"That's the thing: With Urthblood, you can never know. But if that trail has just been blocked, by whatever means and for whatever purpose, we might as well turn back for Redwall now, because we'll not be getting through to Salamandastron that way - not anytime this season, or next."

"But ... I gotta ... "

Alex nodded impatiently. "Yes, yes, I know. Go to sea. You've mentioned that, once or twice."

"So, whadda we do now?"

Alex considered this for a few moments. "We've come this far already, so it would be silly not to go on, in case my fears prove unfounded. Maybe that rockfall didn't completely block the trail after all. Maybe we'll still be able to get through. We won't know until we go up there and find out for ourselves."

"Um, aye, makes sense. That'll be t'morrow, then?"

The Mossflower Patrol leader studied the mountainous slopes, gauging and judging, then looked to the sky. "You know, that rockslide doesn't appear to have happened right at the highest peaks - a fair way below, in fact, by my eye. And with these longer spring days, I bet we could make it there well before nightfall. Better to know sooner rather than later, right?"

"Um ... " Palter twiddled his paws in trepidation. "But won't that put us too high up t' set camp? Won't it be too cold? Wasn't that what we were tryin' to avoid?"

"I don't think so. It's only the highest passes that get the bitter winds blowing through. We'll still be well below that altitude, I think."

"You ... think? We got no blankets, all I got's this feather-light dress o' Lattie's that's been half-cut away, an' no way t' light a fire up there, from what I hear tell."

"True, and also true. But the terrain between here and there shouldn't be all that dangerous - not like the sheer cliffs and narrow ledges we'll have to traverse up higher. I say we push on now, get to the scree zone while there's still enough light left to assess the situation, and then once we've seen what there is to see, we'll backtrack a ways so that we won't be so high up. We should be able to do that safely, even after dark. Then we can catch a good night's sleep in the foothills, and have a head start on tomorrow's climb to sweeten the deal ... assuming it does look like we can get through."

Palter radiated dubiosity, as he so often did. "I dunno. I was kinda lookin' for'ard to restin' here fer awhile, mebbe enjoyin' some more o' them Abbey vittles ... "

"The way you've been tucking into them, we won't have enough to get us through to the coastlands." Alex knew he was pointedly exaggerating, and hoped the rat could appreciate the jibe. In truth, even without outside help, Alex had planned on saving their provisions for the mountain crossing, where he knew they'd find nothing to succor or sustain them, subsisting until then on whatever meagre foraging the spring Plains could provide. That outside help had in fact materialized, however, in the form of delivery Sparra from Warbeak Loft, flying out yesterday and the day before that too, bearing with them each time a sack provided by Friar Hugh containing enough fresh Redwall fare to guarantee they'd not run low on food at anytime between the Plains and Salamandastron. Thus bolstered, they'd not had to do any foraging at all, and it looked like they wouldn't need to.

But the Sparra messengers had also made it clear that no further aid would come after their last delivery; it was simply too far afield for them to fly from the Abbey, especially laden with any meaningful quantity of food. Drawing within range of the foothills would also carry Alexander and Palter beyond the utmost limit of the sparrows' single-day flying abilities, and so the provisions they bore with them now were all the two journeyers would be getting to see them through to the coastlands. They were not likely to run short, but still it was a sobering reminder of just how much they were on their own now.

"Be glad our winged Abbey friends were able to help us out as they have, and that none of Urthblood's gulls or raptors were around to try to stop them," Alex went on. "If we'd been dependent on foraging, we'd find the pickings mighty slim, especially once we started our real climb onto the mountains proper. For most of that trail you'll find not so much as a blade of grass growing up between the cracks in the rocks. We might have found some berries, nuts and herbs between here and there, if we were lucky. Would have been all the more reason to try to crest the peaks and be back down the other side in a single day."

"Sounds loverly. I had my fill o' nibblin' grass 'n' leaves 'n' bark durin' our winter march t' Redwall, when our supplies ran low. Coulda done it again if'n I hadta, I reckon, but glad I don't hafta. But I was thinkin' more o' my legs than my stummick. They're achin' fer a rest 'fore we tackle any slopes or loose-shiftin' inclines."

Alex was reluctant to waste such time, especially considering the more leisurely pace they'd set for themselves, but two days of marching with Palter had driven home how the rat would wheedle and whine if pushed too hard. It all left Alex wondering just how Palter had managed to keep from collapsing that first day out, when the Gawtrybe had bustled him and Latura along at a constant jog, with no proper break at all.

"Okay. We'll stop here just long enough for you to rest up. But I don't want to lose too much of the remaining daylight by dawdling here overlong, so rest up fast!"

Palter grumbled and groused a bit at this seemingly contradictory enjoinder, but Alexander grudgingly joined him, forcing himself off his own footpaws for the duration of this rest break even though he would have preferred to be on his way. He could not deny to himself that, during all this hike since leaving Redwall, he'd pushed himself far more than he was used to, and scaling the heights before them might well prove nearly as much a challenge for him as for Palter. So, he imposed this respite upon his not-quite-protesting body. Even with their food situation well in paw thanks to the Sparra, they would not succeed in this endeavor if their bones and sinews failed them.

When he felt they'd rested long enough - although undoubtedly not as long as Palter would have liked - Alex called an end to their break and set off for the nearby foothills, not caring if the rat's own joints and muscles agreed with his assessment. Palter found himself left little choice and fell into step behind the squirrel.

The daylight held strong and steady through the first part of their ascent, even though the towering range rearing above them blocked the afternoon sunlight. They even paused once more to nibble a bit at their Abbey provisions, and found any number of mountain springs to ensure that their water pouches would not go dry.

Dusky evening held sway by the time they reached the site of the rockfall, and when they saw what awaited them there, they were glad not to be viewing the scene by the full light of day. The scattered debris told its own silent story of elemental fury, with relics ranging in size from gravel nuggets to boulders as big as entire cottages, all clearly dislodged and displaced by that afternoon's calamity. And if it failed to irrevocably bar the way to the two Salamandastron-bound seekers, it was clear that it had done quite enough.

Palter put a paw to his mouth and turned away upon realizing what he was looking at, glad for a change that his stomach wasn't any fuller. Alex forced down his own queasiness, knowing he had to more thoroughly study what had happened in this place.

"Squirrels died here," he grimly announced, not that Palter hadn't been able to figure that much out for himself. "The question is, how many?"

"Hope it was all of 'em!" Palter spat, then reconsidered. "Tho' I guess that wouldn't be good news fer Lattie, would it?"

Alex scouted around, examining the smashed remains as best he could to glean a better idea of the casualty assessment. In the end he was reduced to counting paws - about the only parts still easily identifiable - and came up with three. "At least two died here, although it could have been more. Who knows how many are lying beneath this rubble ... or whether they'd be in any state for us to tell for sure." He regarded the thick red smears on the rockface just above them, then hastily averted his gaze upon registering that the tattered fragments of a Gawtrybe tunic seemed to be ground into one of them.

Palter fidgeted further, having stepped back from the disturbing carnage. "You don't ... you don't s'pose it is all of 'em, do you? Mebbe even Lattie?"

"One way to find out. Stay here." Alex vaulted and clambered over the rockspill spread across their path, making his way with care lest any of the newly-fallen obstructions shift under his weight. He returned in very short order with an encouraging nod. "There are tracks in the dust on the other side, continuing on up the trail. They were easy to spot, even in this light; the survivors certainly didn't make any effort to erase them. Several creatures, too - and one of them seems to be Latura."

The rat heaved an ineffectual sigh of relief. "Then, we c'n get across't? We c'n still go after her?"

Alex shot the other a sharp look. "This was never about 'going after' Latura, remember? She's already beyond us, and has been ever since our defeat back on the Plains." He studied the rubble field, and the rising trail beyond. "Although, if they were still here when we heard this rockslide this afternoon, they're not as far ahead of us as I'd imagined. I would have placed them at least a full day ahead of us, maybe two, especially considering the lack of avian escorts. Having to force Lattie along must be slowing them down."

"Yah, we rats're good at that, I guess, ain't we?"

Alex smirked. "Yes, but speed's a lot more important to them than to us. And if they were still making their climb in the mid-afternoon, they can't mean to make it all the way over in one day. They'd run out of light up on the high passes, and those are the most treacherous of all, not to even be contemplated at night." Again, he studied the scree. "Still, this is far too coincidental, that rockface giving way at the exact moment when it would take out part of Matowick's squad. Makes me wonder if they were trying to set up some kind of trap for us, and it backfired on them as surely as Mina's arrow meant for Lattie backfired on her."

"Um, but if they were settin' this as a trap, why would some of 'em been standin' down where they'd get smashed if somethin' went wrong?"

"The Gawtrybe are a pretty arrogant lot. Wouldn't surprise me if they were so confident in their abilities that it never occurred to them anything could go wrong. Why, what do you think may've happened here?"

Palter took a moment answering. "Mebbe ... mebbe Lattie made it happen."

"I thought Latura only saw the future - not that she made it happen."

"So did I."

A thin, piercing, distant scream echoed down to them from higher above. Squirrel and rat stared upward, but the impassive mountain revealed nothing of what they were hearing as the phantom cry trailed away into the other sounds of the approaching night, making them doubt, if only for a moment, if it had ever been there at all.

"That was a death scream of terror, or I'm a toad," Alex said at last. "What the fur is happening on this mountain?"

"Reckon we're set t' find out when we climb it ourselves," Palter replied morosely.

"Yah. Reckon we will. Come on, let's get to the alcove we passed a while back, before this mountain decides to grind up any more squirrels. Although part of me is thinking maybe we should try to get off the mountain altogether before we settle down for the night. I'm not sure how safe I'd feel sleeping on any part of these slopes, given what we've just seen and heard."

Palter joined Alex in their plodding downward retreat, the squirrel looking to make some distance before the light failed completely. "If Lattie really is b'hind this," the rat mumbled, "don't see as it'll make any diff'rence where we stop. We'll be safe if we're meant t' be safe, an' if we ain't, don't matter where we go!"

00000000000

Arising well before sunrise, Alex decided to indulge in the luxury of a hot breakfast before tackling the mountain summit. This part of the foothills afforded just enough tree growth to supply wood for a cookfire, so he gathered up an armful of twigs and branches and had a modest blaze going by the time Palter stirred himself. Selecting one scone and one muffin for each of them from their Abbey provisions, Alex placed them on a rock slab above the fire to heat them. A short time later both journeybeasts were wolfing down their warmed delicacies, chased with clear mountain spring water to moisten each swallow. Then, attending to their personal needs and collecting their belongings, they struck off up the rising trail toward the more barren environs above.

The rubble field lay bathed in the spring morning sun when they came upon it for the second time. As much as Alex would have preferred to be past it quickly - a desire clearly shared by his skittish companion - he wanted to examine the scene of the Gawtrybe's misfortune by the full light of day, to see if he might glean any additional clues about this disaster. Nothing appeared to have shifted or slid since the previous evening, and the gruesome aftermath was no easier to stomach in brighter conditions than at dusk. Gritting his teeth and trying not to think too hard about it, the Redwall squirrel investigated the area more thoroughly than before, circling the tumbled rocks to inspect them from all angles and poking into irregular crevices that hadn't existed here at this time yesterday. At length he stood and addressed Palter with no particular expression on his face.

"I still can't tell whether only two of the Gawtrybe met their end here, or if it was more. It does look as if at least two survived, to judge by the tracks leading past this point ... and that Lattie was definitely with them. A rat's pawprints among squirrels' are rather easy to distinguish."

"Well, that's ... good, I guess. Not that there's really much good about any o' this."

"You said it. Come on, let's get going. If we can attain the high passes by noontime, or not long thereafter, we'll be in good shape. We'll have the sun with us on the other side, and that should see us most of the way down from these mountains by nightfall."

Palter had had enough of a rest to suit himself while Alexander inspected the area, and hardly had any appetite either for a change, and so was happy to be moving on. He did have trouble negotiating the debris field, lacking a squirrel's nimbleness or even a normal rat's agility and strength, and Alex was forced to help him along, grabbing Palter's paw to haul him over and around the rocks and boulders.

As they struggled past the last of the obstructions, Palter was heard to mutter, "Wish this would happen t' ev'ry Gawtrybe, ev'rywhere. It's what they deserve."

"Nobeast deserves an end like this," Alex countered, silently remarking to himself what a terrible thing that was for the rat to say - and more than a little alarmed to find that he couldn't really disagree with such a sentiment all that much after all.

By midmorning, after leaving the foothills well behind them and venturing into a zone more barren and craggy than any they'd traversed so far, Palter's appetite recovered sufficiently for him to request another stop. Alex consented, knowing it would likely be their last chance to rest in any manner of even marginal comfort before they hit the most grueling - and harrowing - leg of this crossing.

And as he joined the rat in nibbling at some bread and sipping at their pouches, he remembered the ghostly, bloodcurdling scream from the evening before, and wondered whether another ghastly tableau awaited them ahead.

Resuming their climb, they soon passed from rocky trails and canyons merely barren to those truly forbidding, with steep inclines needing to be scaled on all fours and precipitous drops off to either left or right - or, in one spot that nearly prevented Palter from going on, to both sides at once, a narrow bridge just paces wide with a sheer abyss at either paw. One misstep along any of these perilous stretches would end a traveller's life swiftly and surely, and leave their smashed remains lying so deep that they might as well have vanished from the face of the world.

The air grew thinner with each step, until Alex and Palter huffed and gasped with every labored breath, and the winds picked up until they became a constant punishing gust whipping at ears and whiskers, numbing paws in spite of the day's abundant sunshine - warming rays blocked more often than not by the rock walls rising around them on all sides. It reminded Alex anew why this pass had remained hidden for so long ... and why, even today, only the most daring or desperate of journeybeasts would even attempt it.

And then they came to specific sites that loomed especially large in Alexander's memory. A large hollow appeared on their left, backed by a widely curving wall, and the squirrel vividly recalled a night spent shivering up here in the company of Mina, Machus and his foxes, and the other soldiers of Urthblood's forces making their way from Redwall to Salamandastron. And he knew that also meant the tiny fissure in the hard ground to their right - now little more than a hairline crack in the surface - would widen a short way ahead until it became a yawning chasm into the deepest of dark voids in the earth.

Many of his companions from that previous excursion no longer lived, but at least none had gone over the edge and perished here, not even during their less-than-amicable run-in with the Long Patrol headed in the opposite direction. The trick now was to get himself and Palter past that narrow ledge over oblivion with the same success and preservation of life as on his prior foray over these heights.

They were about to find out, however, that fate did not intend for things to go quite so smoothly this time.

Rounding the bend of the mountain ledge at the same spot where the opposing parties had confronted each other two summers before, with the heart-stopping drop falling away to their right, Alex and Palter kept themselves to the rearing cliff face on their left, sometimes literally rubbing shoulders with it as if the impassive, uncaring rock might take hold of them and catch them if they should stumble. The rat's heart was in his mouth, as it had been any number of times during the more dangerous segments of this crossing, and he frequently paused, taking a few moments to stand still with eyes screwed shut, escaping into some inner place of safety before having to open his eyes again and resume his nervewracking progress. For his own part, Alex shared much of Palter's anxiety, but refused to let it show, for what would be the point of that?

But then he beheld a sight before him that made him reveal his unease after all.

"Uh oh."

Palter, coming to a sudden halt behind the stopped squirrel but unable to fully see around him, quailed at Alexander's dire utterance. "Uh oh? Whaddya mean, uh oh? That ain't sumpthin' a beast wants t' hear in a place like this. What's th' - oh, my pore old muther's sodden soul!" Getting a jockeying glimpse past his companion at last, the color instantly drained from Palter's features, leaving him white as a sheet.

Before them, a section of the narrow, mountain-hugging ledge, only wide enough for two beasts to walk abreast of each other and then only if one was especially bold and fearless, had collapsed altogether, leaving a gap in their only path forward.

"This must be where we heard that scream from last evening," said Alex. "The ledge gave way as they were going over it, pitching at least one more of Matowick's party over the edge."

"That can't be right," Palter challenged, his horrified gaze fixed on the missing portion of rock shelf. "We were so far back behind this place - 'ow could we o' heard it?"

"Look down at that chasm," Alex explained, pointing down to their right, although Palter resisted the suggestion, instead pressing himself tighter against the wall to their left. "I can see that acting like one huge echo chamber. And that network of canyons and gullies we passed through on our way here could well have served as a sound reflecting terrain, relaying that doomed wretch's final cry all the way down to the foothills where we could hear it."

"Almost like we was meant to ... like fate intended us to. Mebbe t'was a warnin' we weren't meant t' go on ... "

Alex glanced over his shoulder at Palter. "You're the one who had to 'go to sea.' As I recall, the rest of us tried to talk you out of making this trek."

"Well, didn't know it'd lead to sumpthin' like this! Ain't there some other path or trail we could take? This can't be th' only way through alla these mountains."

"It's the only way I know. So unless you plan on sprouting wings, or getting one of Urthblood's birds to carry you the rest of the way over these peaks, the only other alternative is to retrace our steps all the way back to the Plains, and then go the long way around the range to the south or north - which would take the rest of this season, and maybe into next as well."

"Um ... er. So, whadda we do now?"

"We keep going."

"But ... ain't nowhere to go."

Alex studied the gap in the narrow ledge. "I can jump that. Even bearing my bow and my provisions, I can jump that easily. And that means you should be able to too."

Palter stared at Alexander as if the squirrel was insane. "You ... you can't ... I mean ... I ain't no treejumper like you, ner any hare neither!"

"No, and you're not even much of a rat. But I'm going on. You either make the jump too, or you get left behind. The choice is yours."

"I'd never make it!"

"I think you can."

"What if ye're wrong?"

"Then that would mean Latura's wrong too."

"Huh? Whadd're ya talikn' 'bout?"

"Make the jump. If Lattie's right and you really do have to go to sea, you can't possibly die here. Fate will protect you, and make sure you don't fail."

This logic threw Palter for a total loss. To have his own assertive faith in Latura turned back on him in such a manner cast him into utter mental disarray, and left him unsure how to respond. At last he said, weakly, "But I can't see myself makin' it."

"Then maybe that's your problem right there: You're so busy dwelling on what you can't do, you never bother sparing a thought to what you can do. Picture yourself making it - picture Lattie wanting you to make it - and just maybe you'll surprise yourself."

Palter gazed toward the abyss, still supremely ill at ease, when a terrible thought occurred to him. "Lattie's decrees, they don't allers mean what they might seem ta on th' surface. What if there's some underworld stream down there at th' very bottom, that'll carry my corpse out t' sea if I did fall 'n' die? That'd still be Lattie's prophecy comin' true. I'd just not be alive t' make it happen."

"I can't speak to that. I suppose any cryptic pronouncement can be cut apart in so many ways, to look for any meaning you want to find. But I'm making the jump. You can either come with me, or turn around and go back the way we came. But I'm not waiting around here all day for you to make up your mind. One way or the other, we'll both want to be down off this mountain by day's end."

"How do we know they didn't all fall here, ev'ry single one of 'em? Mebbe Lattie an' th' rest of those Gawtrybe never made it past here, an' we ain't meant to neither."

"We don't know. Not for sure. But does your gut tell you Latura was fated to die here, after all she's been through? Mine doesn't."

Palter mulled this over. "Tell ya what. You make yer jump, then scout around on the other side, see if you can pick up any o' their tracks. If it looks like Lattie 'n' any o' the others made it across alive an' kept goin' - if it looks like there'd be any point in us takin' that risk ourselves - then I'll ... I'll try it. But I ain't riskin' my neck if there ain't no reason."

Alex considered this proposal. "How's your throwing arm?"

"What?"

"I'm not making that jump twice. Once I'm across, I'm across for good. I said I could manage it with my own weapons and supplies - not with yours and mine both. It'll be up to you to get yourself and everything of yours over. And since I gather you'll not want to attempt the jump weighed down by anything, you'll have to throw it across to me."

Palter mulled this over, his flagrant dubiosity on display once more, and said, "I dunno. Castin' stuff about ain't never been my strong point. Not sure o' my range, or my aim. I'd hate t' fling it an' have it fall short, or go wide - an' I don't wanna see you goin' over the edge yerself reachin' after it."

"Not much chance of that. I'll not risk myself for your belongings. If you can't make the throw straight and true, then it's on you, and we'll both be on half rations the rest of the way to Salamandastron."

Palter continued to putter and hem and haw in indecision. At last Alex snatched the rat's haversack right out of his feeble paws and hurled it across the gap, where it landed with a solid thump on the other side. "There. Some of your scones and tarts might be a little smashed, but at least they're across. If you decide not to make the attempt, I'll throw them back to you, and you can be on your way back to Redwall or wherever else you want to go. Now, back up a score of paces or so; I'll need a running start for this."

Alex decided to toss his own provisions across too, so as not to be encumbered by anything more than his bow, quiver and blade. Kneeling at the lip of the crumbled pathway, he gingerly felt and tapped at it to test for its integrity. "Hmm. Wish I had a mole here with us now. Stone lore's hardly my area of expertise, and I'd hate to have this give way beneath me just as I'm making my leap. It seems solid enough, so I'll just have to assume that it is. Although ... "

Palter voiced his newest worry. "But, if you don't make it, now all our food's across on the other side! That was a stupid thing t' do! What'm I s'posed t' do if y' slip an' fall?"

"Then you get to hurry back down to the Plains as fast as you can and forage the rest of your way to wherever you decide to go. Now stand back and don't distract me, because that's the surest way to make your fears become reality."

Palter retreated and fell appreciatively silent as Alex gathered himself for his perilous effort, then sprinted forward. To the rat's breathless surprise, Alex didn't simply launch himself in a single, straightforward leap from lip to lip, but instead propelled himself at a slight sideways angle, making contact with the cliff wall halfway across the collapsed span. Kicking off the rockface on a new trajectory, he effortlessly alighted on the opposite side, just barely avoiding the food sacks.

Palter gaped. "I ... I hope y' ain't expectin' me t' do that!"

"Hardly. For a squirrel like me, that was the safest, surest way, giving my flight a little extra boost at the midway point. No other species would be acrobatic enough to attempt such a feat - maybe not even a hare. It won't be as easy for you, having to jump straight across, but I think you can do it."

"I ... I ain't so sure ... "

"Of course you're not. But stop thinking about not being sure, and think about Lattie instead. Think about her prophecy protecting you. Think about how you can't die here, because then you won't get to sea. For that matter, stop thinking about anything. Just do it."

"Ahh ... but you said you was gonna scout around first, see if there were any tracks or signs anybeast made it across't ... "

"I did say that, didn't I? Very well ... " The adrenaline rush of his death-defying effort hardly left Alexander of a temperament for such mundane and painstaking work, but he applied himself to it anyway, hunching over to inspect the hard path on his side of the sundered trail. His examination took him manyscore paces forward, right around the continuing curve of the mountain flank until he was lost to sight from Palter. Just as the rat began to grow anxious that some ill had befallen the Abbeybeast, Alex reappeared, striding back into view with a confident gait.

"There are tracks. Not many, and not easy to see, but they're there, and they're recent. There were survivors, and they went on."

"How many? An' who?"

"Can't tell. So, are you coming, or do I toss your provisions back to you?"

Palter stood a long time, saying nothing, just staring at the interrupted ledgeway. Alex kicked the two haversacks farther back away from the lip, so that the rat would have plenty of landing room if he did decide to make the jump.

Closing his eyes, Palter seemed about to lose his nerve entirely, then his eyes snapped open again and he went into a mad rush toward the gap. Springing from his side with a good deal less athleticism than might normally be expected from a beast of his seasons, he nevertheless made himself airborne, hurtling toward the far side with the best effort he could muster, pitiful as it might be.

Alex stayed near the rim, heeding some inner sense telling him to hold to this spot, confident in his ability to quickly spin out of the way if Palter needed room to land. But the squirrel quickly saw he would not need to dodge; Palter had jumped too soon, too far before the lip on his side, choosing the surety of a solid launching place over the risk of waiting a stride too late and toppling over the edge. This strategy may have served him well for his takeoff, but it did not bode well for his touchdown.

Palter was going to come up short, and fatally so.

"Arms out! Arms out, toward me!" Alex yelled, bracing himself to catch the flailing rat if he was at all able to.

Palter, sensing he was most likely about to plummet to his death, somehow cobbled together the straight sense through his panic to obey his companion's directive, and flung his desperate arms out before him as far as he could.

Alex - mindful not to lean too far out over the lethal drop himself - caught hold of Palter's wrists, gripping them tightly. In the same motion he kicked his legs backwards out from under him, sending himself flat on his belly against the stone ledge. He knew such a maneuver might knock the wind out of him and force him to lose his grip on the rat, but it would also stabilize him and ground his center of gravity to keep from being dragged over the edge himself.

Somehow Alex managed to hold on, as Palter swung forward pendulum-like and slammed into the sheared-off ledge below. Hoping the impact hadn't stunned the rat into a stupor of dead weight, Alex yelled down, "Use your footpaws against the side! Try to get any grip that way you can, and push yourself up toward me as I pull! I can't do this by myself!"

To the Redwaller's relief, his dangling burden responded at once, not in word but in action, adding just enough upward momentum to enable Alex to haul Palter up over the lip to safety. The squirrel gave silent thanks for the other's scrawny physique; the very lack of brawn which had made Palter come up short now helped save him, letting his rescuer pull him up as if the rat were little more than a youngbeast.

For many moments the two of them simply sat there, huffing and puffing as they gazed at each other. At last Palter forced out, "You ... y' saved ... my life ... "

"Yeah. Maybe that was part of Latura's prophecy too ... "

"Much ... much obliged."

"Not at all. It's what any Redwaller would do."

Palter levered himself into a more fully upright sitting position, back braced against the cliff face to put himself as far as possible from the abyss which had just nearly claimed him. "Mind if ... if we just ... rest here ... fer a bit?"

"Just for a bit. But we'll want to be moving on before too long. We still have a lot of mountain to get across, and only so much daylight left to us. Let's just hope we don't come across anymore collapsed high ledges!"