Now, gazing into the fire, replete and warm, I felt the same kind of contentment I always felt on expeditions. It had nothing to do with the purpose of the expedition and everything to do with all the trappings and comforts and habits of ordinary life being stripped away to reveal a bare simplicity that I always found so peaceful that I could not help but wonder why we humans accumulated so many things and habits and needs and wants to hamper and bind us in daily life.

The fire was very pleasant, but it soon began to burn down, for I did not add any more wood to it after I had cooked our meal. If I was careful, I reckoned that I would be able to get another two cookfires out of it. After that we would be without fire unless I managed to find more fuel. This was unlikely for I had noticed that there was a good deal less vegetation on the mountains than there had been the day before, in spite of the absence of taint. This was partly because much of the mountains this side of the range lacked any vegetation, their slopes being too sheer and smooth for any earth to accumulate where a seed might lodge. Given what Darga had said about the flint vale, there was likely to be even more barren terrain ahead.

I had removed the webbing and pack and the other things from Gahltha while the soup cooked, and now I got out my blanket and spread it out along the back wall of the cave, hoping that he had been able to find some lichen to nibble for his supper. There had been scant grass growing along the ledge, though there had been a good bit growing about the base of the ribbon fall, and at my insistence he had lingered there to graze for a time after the rest of us went on.

I lay down facing the fire and the entrance to the cave, dragging the pack closer to serve as my pillow. As I drew the edges of the blanket around me, Maruman came to curl against my belly. Darga remained where he was, stretched out on the other side of the dying fire, staring into it as if mesmerised. I saw Gahltha’s dark form move in the mouth of the cave and sent to ask, ‘Did Maruman tell you where we are going?’ I had shielded the thought, though the cat was asleep and snoring softly.

‘He knows where he is going,’ Gahltha sent, without much interest. ‘You should sleep.’