Where there was snow, there would be water. Where there was water, there would be life, and where there was life Blade could find something to eat. If there were no people, Blade knew he might be in for an uncomfortable time. He'd be eating berries and roots and raw fish, drinking from mountain streams, and generally living more like an animal than a human being. But he would be living, which was more than the desert would let him do.

It was time to move out. Blade decided he'd go north at his present altitude, between mountain and desert. There wasn't much to choose between north and south-the view was equally dismal in either direction. But at his present altitude the nights should be endurable, and any streams flowing down from the mountains might not have entirely dried up.

Blade licked lips that already felt dry from the sun and gritty with rock dust, then struck north, moving with steady, unhurried strides.

The mountains to the west seemed unchanging, always turning the same face toward him. The nearer peaks seemed close enough for him to throw a rock over their summits, but in fact had to be at least twenty miles away. He'd be crossing those miles sooner or later, but not today.

He'd arrived in this Dimension about mid-morning. At noon he stopped for a short rest, then moved on. At this pace he could keep moving for two days without food or water, covering a good fifty miles in that time.

Slowly the boulders began to cast lengthening shadows.

The sun's light took a reddish tinge as it sank toward the peaks. In another hour the darkness and chill of the desert night would come swiftly. Blade began looking for something better than bare rocky ground to give him a resting place for the night. As his eyes searched, his legs kept moving.