44

The way up the crag was easy enough at first; an old scree, turfed over, which rose by gradually steepening increments, until it met the true rock face almost halfway to the top of the bluff. Thereafter, a series of irregular cracks and chimneys in the stone allowed Tom and Stephen to continue the climb, but the going was slow and difficult, particularly for Tom, who was carrying the spear.

Stephen was thankful for one thing. The crag bulged to their right, cutting off all view of the top of the gully, where the true path ran. The vulnerability he had felt earlier faded, and he was able to concentrate on the practicalities of the climb.

After half an hour, he passed the point where he and Michael had given up their ascent. The going was tougher here, but by no means impossible, although the rock was brittle and occasionally treacherous. Once or twice, he took the spear from Tom to enable him to negotiate a tricky stretch. Each time, he felt the reluctance of Tom to part with it, and noticed how swiftly he took it back when the difficulty was over.

It's becoming part of him, he thought, and for a moment tried to recapture the picture of Sarah's Tom that he had known – was it two or three days ago? But that image seemed frail; it faded almost as he thought of it, to be replaced with the harder, more determined man scrabbling against the rock six foot below him. Sarah won't recognise you now, boyo, Stephen thought, and addressed himself to the next stretch.

A little way ahead, the rocks became slippery with water, which dribbled from a narrow fissure in the cliff. After warning Tom to take care, Stephen negotiated the wet stone until he was level with the opening. A sudden cry made Tom lift his head and squint upwards.

"What is it? What's happened."

"The water. Get yourself up here, Tom. Quick. And I can smell it as well."

Tom drew himself up. "What is it? Good Lord, that's sulphur."

"Yes, and feel the water."

"Warm!"

"Put your hand against the rock of the opening. Just inside the hole. Feel it?"

"Yes – the rock's warm."

"And this is right against the open air. There's something very hot in there."

They looked at each other for a moment. Tom said, "How much further to the top, do you think?"

"Not too far. You can see we're higher than much of the spur. The Pit can't be too much beyond that break in the rocks, though it's difficult to judge."

"When we get there—"

"We'll lie low and wait for our moment. There's no point in planning it. We don't know what—Christ!"

A short scream of despair sounded above them against the sky, then floated down the gully, echoing off the rocks on either side.

Tom's eyes were dark and staring. "That was Sarah," he whispered.

"You don't know that."

"Who else would it be? My God, I need your strength!" He sprang up against the cliff, and began to climb frantically, levering himself over hanging slabs, and gripping the spear with three fingers of his right hand.

"Go carefully, for heaven's sake!" Stephen set off in his wake, clambering as swiftly as he could, but all the time, in leaps and bounds, the straining figure above him drew further away.