Shara stood next to him, her eyes moving over each building in turn.
‘The Monastery of Geltang,’ she said softly. ‘I’ve waited my whole life to see this.’
‘It’s like a mirage,’ Luca said, then turning to her, his voice urgent despite his exhaustion, ‘where are we, Shara? What is this place?’
She shook her head. ‘All you need to know is that it’s a monastery, a safe place where we can get help for Bill. Save your strength. We still have a valley to cross.’
She turned back towards Bill who was lying against a rock. His head had slumped to one side. She knelt down, cupping his chin in her hands.
Bill’s eyes were half-closed, their bloodshot whites just visible, and his mouth hung open, spittle collecting at the corners. His hair was slicked down with sweat and his whole body trembled violently. He was in the grip of the fever now — soon the delirium would start. As she felt down under his thighs to check the makeshift bandages, a watery mixture of blood and pus seeped out across her hand.
‘The infection has come on so fast,’ she said, tears of guilt pricking her eyes. ‘He’s lost so much blood…’
Bill could see her face above his: the swathe of long black hair, the green eyes wide with concern. Then he heard her voice again, but this time only fragments of what she said made sense. There was a rushing sound, as if she were speaking from behind a waterfall. He heard her say something to Luca. A monastery… A valley to cross…
‘Bill.’
Through the waterfall, he heard his name spoken from a distance, then Luca’s face was right before him.
Now his feet were stumbling across a path, his climbing boots dragging over the rocks and kicking up dust. Stones showered down beside them as they descended into the new valley and he could hear the sound of his own breathing filling his head. It was heavy, laboured, blocking everything else out.
Colours swam across his vision: the dull brown of the path, flashes of blue as his head briefly rolled back towards the sky, and then back to the arid land again.
Then came a brilliant white. It was intense, burning out every other colour. He squinted against it, his whole world painfully bright, before realising that it was the sun reflecting off huge marble steps.
He could hear breathing again, louder now. It was Luca, his face pressed right against Bill’s as he hauled him up the steps, one at a time.
Then there was a dull crack and Bill felt his head recoil. He lay still, face down on the marble steps, where Luca had missed his footing and fallen. A warm, salty taste filled his mouth. Blackness edged around his vision like spilled ink, growing thicker, closing around him, blotting out the brilliant white.
An image of Cathy came to him then. She was curled up on the sofa in the living room, a blanket over her legs. He was there with her. She was smiling. She was smiling because he was there.
‘Come on!’
Luca’s voice.
‘Come on, Bill! Stay with me. We’re nearly there.’
He could hear the edge of panic and wondered why Luca was so upset. Why was he shouting at him?
Another voice. Female. Not Cathy. The swathe of black hair was back again and he felt himself being lifted once more. The stairs. The bleached out white.
To his right, he heard an animal groan as Luca fought with every ounce of strength in his thighs to climb the final few steps into an open courtyard. Luca felt a muscle in his lower back tear and his body buckled to one side, but he kept pumping with his legs, dragging Bill forward.
Luca’s eyes were wide, staring straight ahead. There was a manic light to them as the adrenaline disconnected him from all feeling in his body. Every emotion was blocked, bypassed by the single need to reach the top. He had to finish, had to reach the summit. Nothing mattered except reaching the summit.
They came out into a courtyard of grey flagstones, warmed by the sun. A line of wide-leafed trees ran through the centre, each surrounded by a scattering of fallen white and purple blossom. Further back, just visible through some archways, another smaller stairway seemed to lead to a separate complex of buildings.
‘Find… someone,’ Luca panted as he laid Bill down on the flagstones, his breathing so laboured he could barely get the words out. For a moment Shara stood motionless, her mind blank and her eyes dull with exhaustion.
‘Shara! Wherever the hell you’ve taken us… get some help!’
She looked at him for a moment, something like fear flickering across her face. Then she seemed to gather herself and nodded, stumbling off towards one of the many archways.
Luca turned back to attend to Bill. He sat with his own legs out straight, resting Bill’s head on the top of his thigh. Looking down at his friend’s face, he saw the broken nose from where they had fallen on the marble step. Blood crawled down the side of his face like the trails of a spider’s web.
‘We’ve made it, mate,’ Luca whispered. ‘We did it.’
There was not a flicker of response. Bill’s head stayed slumped to one side, his eyes closed. Luca shook his shoulder gently.
‘Stay awake, Bill. That’s all you’ve got to do. Stay awake for just a few more minutes.’
Luca peered more closely at his friend’s face. There wasn’t a hint of movement. He bent forward, pressing his ear against Bill’s mouth, listening for any sign that he was breathing. Nothing.
‘No. No. No,’ Luca repeated, panic rising in him as he put two fingers against Bill’s throat, pressing down to feel for a pulse. He stared at his fingers, stained with a mixture of blood and dirt, willing them to find a heartbeat. All he could hear was the hammering of his own chest.
Forcing himself to slow his breathing, Luca closed his eyes and concentrated. Gradually, he began to feel the faint flutter coming from Bill’s throat. It was so weak it was barely perceptible, running fast and irregular — but it was there.
Luca tilted back his head, breathing out a long sigh of relief, and let his eyes scan the buildings encircling them. There was a stillness to them that made him feel the whole place hadn’t seen movement for centuries, and now they were the first to trespass upon it.
Opening directly off the courtyard, the façade of the main building towered over them. Proportioned against the mountains the monastery had been impressive, but only now that he was up close did Luca understand the true scale of his surroundings. Walls reached up, smooth and unbroken, for hundreds of feet above them, cut into the rock of the mountain itself.
Behind him, he heard the sound of footsteps and turned to see a group of three monks following Shara through an archway. Each had a shaven head and wore a long cornflower blue robe that billowed with the speed of their approach. Before Luca had managed to get to his feet, a short man who was plainly the leader came to stand before him, arms folded across his chest.
Shara appeared by his side.
‘This is Drang, the aide to Geltang’s chief physician. They’re going to take Bill to him now.’
Luca looked at him, taking in the raised, twisting scar that ran from the crown of Drang’s head all the way down to his left eyebrow, making it droop slightly. He looked to be about forty years old, short and very stocky, with eyes shadowed by a heavy brow. His hair was shaved to stubble, while years spent exposed to the harsh Tibetan sun had turned his skin the colour of hardwood. His right arm was bare, the veins crossing his powerful forearm standing out in jagged lines.
Drang motioned to the two other monks who quickly moved to either side of Bill and hoisted him up by his shoulders and legs. Both strained under his weight, then, adjusting their balance, moved off towards the far stairway.
‘Hey, wait!’ Luca said, raising one hand. He made to follow, shuffling forward whilst clutching his lower back. But before he could move more than a couple of steps Drang’s arm shot out, grabbing the front of his Gore-Tex jacket so that he was stopped dead in his tracks.