She took a deep breath against the inevitable pain and tried to raise herself to a sitting position. She failed and lay back again. “You’ll have to help me up,” she told them.
“We’ll have to carry you, is what we’ll have to do,” Simralin observed. “Don’t try to rush this.”
“I’m trying not to. But I know what’s at stake. Kirisin has to get back to the Cintra. He has to use the Loden to save the Elves. Otherwise, this has all been for nothing.”
Simralin nodded. “Kirisin will get his chance. But first we have to do something about you.”
“You have to take me with you.”
Simralin actually laughed. “Now there’s a good plan. Why didn’t I think of it?”
“I mean it, Simralin. You have to take me with you. It is the mission I was given—to be your protector. I can’t let you go alone.”
“Well, I don’t think this is your decision.” The Tracker bent close again. “I’ve seen dead people in better shape than you are. If you try to go with us, you’ll be more hindrance than help. I can’t protect you and him. And you can’t protect either of us until you’re healed. I’m taking you to someone who can make you well again. Then I’m taking Little K back into the Cintra where he can do what he is supposed to do.”
Angel shook her head stubbornly. “Not without me.”
Simralin sighed. “I thought you promised not to make this so hard on us.”
“I don’t care what I said. I’m going.”
“I’m afraid not, Angel.”
She reached down, pressed her fingers into the other’s exposed neck at the base of her skull, and held them in place. Angel’s eyes fluttered momentarily and closed.
Simralin stood up. “She’s unconscious. I’ll give her something in a little while to keep her that way. Stubborn, isn’t she? Determined. No wonder she’s still alive.” She motioned to Kirisin. “Take the staff from her hands, Little K. Be gentle.”
Together they made up the sling using the staff and one of the cloaks, tying and looping the sleeves and the loose ends of the flaps to form the cradle. Then they fitted Angel inside, shouldered their packs, and picked up the sling. It felt to Kirisin as if Angel weighed three hundred pounds.
“Don’t worry,” Simralin grunted from the other end of the staff. “We’ll stop and rest on the way. Just let me know when it gets to be too much.”
It was already too much, Kirisin thought. But he didn’t say so. He just nodded. He would do what it took to get Angel down the mountain. She would have done the same for them.
She would have given up her life.
Half an hour later, they were back outside the caves and making their way across the ice fields toward the snow line and the meadows that lay below.
FOUR
I T TOOK KIRISIN AND SIMRALIN almost four hours of hiking interspersed with frequent rest stops to carry Angel Perez back down the slopes of Syrring Rise to the meadow where they had left the hot-air balloon. Their trek was lengthened by the need to take a circuitous route in order to avoid the rougher terrain. By the time they reached the edge of the ice fields and stepped off the glacier onto visible ground, it was already midmorning. When they came in sight of the balloon, the sun was directly overhead and midday was approaching.
The day started out bright and clear, but as the hours wore on it turned hazy and the sky began to fill with clouds. A storm was forming over the mountain, and they had to get away before it struck or they would be trapped another night. Simralin pushed hard to keep Kirisin moving, even after he told her that he didn’t think he could go any farther. He surprised himself by putting aside any thought for his own discomfort and responding to his sister’s urgings and his own sense of duty to the injured Knight of the Word.
If Erisha were there, he comforted himself, she might even tell him he was finally growing up.