But as he walked his heart-sickness and rage yielded slowly, reluctantly to reason. He was not swayed in his resolve to kill Shar-hai---who might next come stalking one yet dearer---nor spared any measure of the bludgeoning sorrow and guilt. But with each mile he thought more of her, and of their indescribable communion the night before. And as the land became more broken and the granite-boned hills a nearer mark, he found more and more than he wanted to live, a desire that chafed against his hatred, and crossed his will to act. He whirled the sword in blind fury about him, but could not make the conflict go away. He had never been needed before. He walked, now passing the mesa that had once, in what seemed another world, been his home. And he thought, and tried to think, what must be done. WHAT MUST BE DONE. And how to do it. Where was Akar? How long before Barabbas would follow? Surely in this they were not enemies. Which path would the Changed One follow? Surely he feared the hill-tribe, and would not pass directly in front of their cave. He was grateful that his head no longer ached and his breath came easier. He thought of his mother. SYLVIANA. Such ran the jumble of his thoughts, and the feelings which rose all the stronger for his efforts to control them. The wolves, he decided, must have passed on the far side of Carak mesa. The would follow a small, tree-blinded stream to the hills. The Hill. There could only be one. I DON'T WANT TO DIE. 'Sylviana.' * Kalus sat crouched and still among the twisted bramble that grew, overshadowed by oak and maple, at the base of the hill. He had reached the narrow vale first and seen them coming, as he thought, from the west. He had positioned himself uphill, and downwind of the gentle fold through which they must pass, betting his life on the skills he had learned as a boy. They turned the bend and came closer, scenting the wind. And as he watched, the man-child was struck, and weakened in will, by the size and unswerving gait of Shar-hai, whom he had seen before only from a distance. Now he was less than a hundred yards away. Suddenly the great head stopped in mid-air, turning left and then right: searching. At the same moment his guard lowered their noses to the ground and angrily, anxiously swept the earth about them. Kalus' heart froze, but even as it did his fingers wrapped more tightly about the hilt of his sword. The two fanned out fifteen yards to either side, then doubled back upon their own path. It was not his scent they had found. They snarled and tore the ground with their feet, waiting to advance. For the scent of the true wolf they recognized, and hated. Only Shar-hai looked about him, sensing, but not seeing, something else. He too was aware of Akar. His lip curled slightly and a rumble of distant hatred crawled out. They advanced up the hill. Chapter 13