Kith chuckled with a heartiness that belied his wounds and their predicament.
“Your leg,” Sithas said concernedly. “How does it feel today?” Kith groaned and shook his head. “Need a cleric to work on it. I doubt it’ll heal enough to carry me.”
Sithas sat back, suddenly too tired to go on. Alone, he might be able to walk out of these mountains, but he didn’t see any way that Kith-Kanan could even get down from this exposed, perilous ledge.
For a while, the brothers sat in silence, watching the sun set. The sky domed over them, pale blue to the east and overhead but fading to a rose hue that blended into a rich lavender along the western ridge. One by one stars winked into sight. Finally darkness crept across the sky, expanding from the east to overhead, then pursuing the last lingering strips of brightness into the west.
“Any sign of Arcuballis?” asked Kith hopefully. His brother shook his head sadly.
“What do we do now?” Sithas asked.
To his dismay, his brother shook his head in puzzlement. “I don’t know. I don’t think I can get down from here, and we can’t finish our quest on this ledge.”
“Quest?” Sithas had almost forgotten about the mission that had brought them to these mountains. “You’re not suggesting we still seek out the griffons, are you?”
Kith smiled, albeit wanly. “No, I don’t think we can do much searching. You, however, might have a chance.”
Now Sithas gaped at his twin. “And leave you here alone? Don’t even think about it!”
The wounded elf gestured to stem Sithas’s outburst. “We have to think about it.”
“You won’t have a chance up here! I won’t abandon you!” Kith-Kanan sighed. “Our chances aren’t that great any way you look at it. Getting out of these mountains on foot is out of the question until spring. And the months of deep winter are still before us. We can’t just sit here, waiting for my leg to heal.”
“But what kind of progress can I make on foot?” Sithas gestured to the valley walls surrounding them.
Kith-Kanan pointed to the northwest, toward the pass that had been their goal before the storm had driven them to this ledge. The gap between the two towering summits was protected by a steep slope, strewn with large boulders and patches of scree. Strangely, snow had not collected there.
“You could investigate the next valley,” the elf suggested. “Remember, we’ve explored much of the range already.”
“That’s precious little comfort,” Sithas replied. “We flew over the mountains before. I’m not even sure I could climb that pass, let alone explore beyond it.” Kith-Kanan studied the steep slope with a practiced eye. “Sure you could. Go up on the big rocks off to the side there. Stay away from those smooth patches. They look like easy going, but it’s sure to be loose scree. You’d probably slip back farther than you climbed with each step. But if you stay on the good footing, you could make it.”
The wounded elf turned his eyes upon his skeptical brother and continued.
“Even if you don’t find the griffons, perhaps you’ll locate a cave, or better yet some herdsman’s hut. Whatever lies over that ridge, it can’t be any more barren than this place.”
The Speaker of the Stars squatted back on his haunches, shaking his head in frustration. He had looked at the pass himself over the last few days and privately had decided that he would probably be able to climb it. But he had never considered the prospect of going without his brother. Finally he made a decision. “I’ll go—but just to have a look. If I don’t see anything, I’m coming straight back here.”
“Agreed.” Kith-Kanan nodded. “Now maybe you can hand me another strip of lamb—only this time, I’d like it cooked a little more on the rare side. That last piece was too well done for my taste.”
Laughing, Sithas used his dagger to carve another strip of raw mutton. He had found that by slicing it very thin he could make the meat more palatable—at least, more easily chewed. And though it was still cold, it tasted very, very good.
Kith-Kanan sat up, leaning against the back wall of the ledge, and watched Sithas gather his equipment. It was nearly dawn.
“Take some of my arrows,” he offered, but Sithas shook his head.
“I’ll leave them with you, just in case.”
“In case of what? In case that ram comes looking for revenge?” Suddenly uncomfortable, Sithas looked away. They both knew that if the hill giants returned, Kith-Kanan would be helpless to do more than shoot a few arrows before he was overcome.
“Kith . . .” He wanted to tell his brother that he wouldn’t leave him, that he would stay at his side until his wounds had healed.
“No!” The injured elf raised a hand, anticipating his brother’s objections. “We both understand—we know that this is the only thing to do.”
“I-I suppose you’re right.”
“You know I’m right!” Kith’s voice was almost harsh.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Sithas—be careful.”
The Speaker of the Stars nodded dumbly. It made him feel like a traitor to leave his brother like this.
“Good luck, Brother.” Kith’s voice came to Sithas softly, and he turned back. They clasped hands, and then Sithas leaned forward to embrace his brother.
“Don’t run off on me,” he told Kith, with a wry smile. An hour later, he was past the water hole, where he had stopped to refill his skin. Now the pass loomed before him like an icy palisade—the castle wall of some unimaginably monstrous giant. Carefully, still some distance away from the ascent, he selected a route up the slope. He stopped to rest several times before reaching the base, but before noon, he began the rugged climb. All the time he remained conscious of Kith-Kanan’s eyes on his back. He looked behind him occasionally, until his brother became a faint speck on the dark mountain wall. Before he started up the pass, he waved and saw a tiny flicker of motion from the ledge as Kith waved back.
The pass, up close, soared upward and away from him like a steep castle wall, steeper than it had looked from the safe distance of their campsite. The base was a massive, sloping pile of talus—great boulders that, over many centuries, had been pried loose by frost or water to tumble and crash down the mountainside. Now they teetered precariously on top of each other, and powdery snow filled the gaps between them.
Sithas strung his bow across his back, next to his sword. His cloak he removed and tied around his waist, hoping to maintain full freedom of movement.
He picked his way up the talus slope, stepping from rock to rock only after testing each foothold for security. Once several rocks tumbled away beneath him, and he sprang aside just in time. Always he gained altitude, pulling himself up the sheer face with his leather-gloved hands. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and for a moment, he wondered how, in the midst of this snow-swept landscape, could he get so Abyss-cursed hot? Then a swirl of icy wind struck him, penetrating his damp tunic and leggings and bringing an instant shiver to his bones.
Soon he reached the top. Here he encountered long stretches of loose scree, small stones that seemed to slip and slide beneath each footfall, carrying him backward four feet for every five of progress.
Kith-Kanan, of course, had been right. He was always right! His brother knew his way around in country like this, knew how to survive and even how to move and explore, to hunt and find shelter.
Why couldn’t it have been Sithas to suffer the crippling injury? A healthy Kith-Kanan would have been able to care for both of them, Sithas knew. Meanwhile, he wrestled with overwhelming despair and hopelessness, and he was not yet out of sight of their base camp!
Shaking off his self-pity, Sithas worked his way sideways, toward steeper, but more solid, shoulders of bedrock. Once his feet slipped away, and he tumbled twenty or thirty feet down the slope, only stopping himself by digging his hands and feet into the loose surface. Cursing, he checked his weapons, relieved to find them intact. Finally he reached a solid rock, with a small shelf shaped much like a chair, where he collapsed in exhaustion. A quick look upward showed that he had made it perhaps a quarter of the way up the slope. At this rate, he would be stranded here at nightfall, a prospect that terrified him more than he wanted to contemplate. Resolutely he started upward again, this time climbing along rough outcrops of rock. After only a few moments, he realized that this was by far the easiest climbing yet, and his spirits rose rapidly.