a sandal strap; at this point, he had leaned upon a tree, which showed indications of housing a dryad. . . .
Tak moved on, about half an hour behind his quarry, as he judged itso giving him plenty of time to get to wherever he was going and to begin whatever activity so engaged his enthusiasms. A halo of heat lightning reached above the mountains he was now facing. There was another rumble of thunder. The trail headed on up into the foothills, where the forest thinned, and Tak moved on all fours amid tall grasses. It headed steadily upward, and rocky outcroppings became more and more prominent. Still, Sam had passed this way, so Tak followed.
Overhead, the pollen-colored Bridge of the Gods vanished as the clouds rolled steadily eastward. Lightning flashed, and now the thunder followed quickly. The wind came faster here in the open; the grasses bent down before it; the temperature seemed suddenly to plummet.
Tak felt the first drops of rain and dashed for the shelter of one of the stands of stone. It ran like a narrow hedge, slightly slanted against the rain. Tak moved along its base as the waters were unleashed and color deserted the world along with the last bit of blue in the sky.
A sea of turbulent light appeared overhead, and three times spilled streams that rode crazy crescendo down to splash upon the stone fang curving blackly into the wind, about a quarter mile up the slope.
When Tak's vision cleared, he saw that which he did now understand. It was as though each bolt that had fallen had left a part of itself, standing, swaying in the gray air, pulsing fires, despite the wetness that came steadily down upon the ground.
Then Tak heard the laughteror was it a ghost sound left in his ears by the recent thunder? <.p>
No, it was laughtergigantic, unhuman!
After a time, there came a howl of rage. Then there was another flash, another rumble.
Another funnel of fire swayed beside the stone fang.
Tak lay still for about five minutes. Then it came againthe howl, followed by three bright flashes and the crash.
Now there were seven pillars of fire. Dared he approach, skirting these things, spying upon the fang peak from its opposite side?
And if he did, and ifas he feltSam was somehow involved, what good could he do if the Enlightened One himself could not handle the situation?
He had no answer, but he found himself moving forward, crouched low in the damp grass, swinging far to his left.
When he was halfway there it happened again, and ten of the things towered, red and gold and yellow, drifting and returning, drifting and returning, as though their bases were rooted to the ground.
He crouched there wet and shivering, examined his courage and found it to be a small thing indeed. Yet, he pushed on until he was parallel to the strange place, then past it.
He drew up behind it, finding himself in the midst of many large stones. Grateful for their shelter and the cover they provided against observation from below, he inched forward, never taking his eyes from the fang.
He could see now that it was partly hollow. There was a dry, shallow cave at its base, and two figures knelt within it. Holy men at prayer? He wondered.
Then it happened. The most frightful flashing he had ever seen came down upon the stonesnot once, or for a mere instant. It was as if a fire-tongued beast licked and licked about the stone, growling as it did so, for perhaps a quarter of a minute.
When Tak opened his eyes, he counted twenty of the blazing towers.
One of the holy men leaned forward, gestured. The other laughed. The sound carried to where Tak lay, and the words: "Eyes of the serpent! Mine now!"
"What is the quantity?" asked the second, and Tak knew it to be the voice of Great-Souled Sam.
"Twice, or none at all!" roared the other, and he leaned forward, rocked back, then gestured as Sam had done.
"Nina from Srinagina!" he chanted, and leaned, rocked, and gestured once more.
"Sacred seven," Sam said softly.
The other howled.
Tak closed his eyes and covered his ears, expecting what might come after that howl.
Nor was he mistaken.
When the blaze and the tumult had passed, he looked down upon an eerily illuminated scene. He did not bother counting. It was apparent that forty of the flame like things now hung about the place, casting their weird glow: their number had doubled.
The ritual continued. On the left hand of the Buddha, the iron ring glowed with a pale, greenish light all its own.
He heard the words "Twice, or none at all" repeated again, and he heard the Buddha say "Sacred seven" once more, in reply.
This time he thought the mountainside would come apart beneath him. This
time he thought the brightness was an afterimage, tattooed upon his retina through closed eyelids. But he was wrong.
When he opened his eyes it was to look upon a veritable army of shifting thunderbolts. Their blaze jabbed into his brain, and he shaded his eyes to stare down below.
"Well, Raltariki?" asked Sam, and a bright emerald light played about his left hand.