The paralysis left her and she wheeled about. “Kalaleq,” she cried. “We must go to that cave. I know who is there. My hunter is there. Kerrick is there.”
Kalaleq gaped with amazement. The Erqigdlit did so many things that were surprising. Yet he did not doubt her for an instant. He pulled himself up and remembered Niumak’s words.
“It is good that your hunter is there, and he is safe and warm as Niumak said.”
“He is not,” she said angrily. “He is not a Paramutan so he is not safe. He is a Tanu who has walked to that place, has carried his food, who was caught by the blizzard. I must go to him — at once.”
When the import of this soaked in, Kalaleq shouted aloud. “A boat, my boat, we must launch my boat. There is a thing that must be done.”
Armun turned and saw Angajorqaq staring at her with widened eyes. “You must help me,” Armun said. “Take care of Arnwheet until we get back. Will you do that?”
“You should not go,” Angajorqaq said without much conviction.
“I am going.”
The boat was already in the water by the time she reached it and stores were being handed in. Four other Paramutan were there with Kalaleq, putting the oars into the water even as the last of the bundles came aboard. Then they were away, helped on their way by the light wind from the north.
At nightfall they were still rowing south. The coast here was a continuous cliff so there was no thought of going ashore for the night. They hove to and threw out a length of leather with a heavy skin on the end so they would not drift too far during the night. They ate fragments of rotten meat and dug out and sucked on pieces of snow from the supply that had been shoveled aboard. Many of them came over to touch Armun and pat her and make soothing noises. She did not answer, only looked at the shore and waited. Towards dawn, exhausted, she slept and when she awoke they were rowing south again.
To Armun the snow-covered shore looked featureless and blank. Not so to the Paramutan who pointed out invisible landmarks with shouted enthusiasm. There were cries of agreement and they rowed with growing enthusiasm towards a pebbled beach. As they surged up on a wave and grated to a halt two of them were over the side and waist-deep in the icy sea, pulling the boat higher up. Armun jumped from the bow, landed heavily but climbed to her feet and ran swiftly towards the wooded hills. Her long legs outdistanced the others — but she had to stop, to look about desperately at the unmarked snow.
“We go there,” Kalaleq cried out as he passed her, pointed, stumbling and falling in the drifts. There was no laughter now, for the snow reached up to the tree line, unbroken, concealing anything there.
They dug, throwing the snow in all directions with desperate urgency. Blackness appeared, the hole was enlarged. Armun was digging as desperately as the others, fell into the opening as they burrowed through. There was a mound of furs covering — what?
She crept forward and reached them first, pulling back the stiff, frozen furs that covered Kerrick’s face. Gray and frost covered. She tore off her glove and reached out, not breathing in the fear that overwhelmed her.
Touched his skin, so cold. So cold.
He was dead.
Yet even as she cried aloud with the thought his eyes trembled and opened.
She was not too late.
CHAPTER TWENTY
The wastes of the frozen north were home to the Paramutan. They knew how to live here and survive, knew everything that there was to know about frostbite and freezing. Now they called out in excitement to each other as they pushed Armun aside and jammed their way into the cave. While Kalaleq opened Kerrick’s furs and tore them off him, two of the others were undressing as well, laying their still-warm clothing out on the frozen ground. Kerrick’s chilled body was placed carefully on the furs and the naked hunters lay beside him, holding him tight to them, using their body heat to warm him. The others piled all of the rest of the furs over them.
“Such cold — I will freeze myself for sure, sing my death song!” Kalaleq cried out.
The others laughed, their good spirits returned now that they had found the hunters alive.
“Get wood, make a fire, melt snow. They must be warmed and will need to drink.”
Ortnar was treated in the same manner. Armun realized that she could help best by getting the wood. And he was alive! The sun was warm on her face, warmth penetrating her body at the realization that both she and Kerrick were safe now, alive and together again. At that moment, as she leaned her weight on a branch and cracked it free, she made a promise to herself that nothing would ever separate them again. They had been apart too long. The invisible cord that bound them one to the other had been stretched too far, had been near to breaking. She would not let that happen another time. Where he was — there she would be as well. No thing and no person would ever come between them. Another frozen branch broke free with a loud crack as she hauled on it with all her strength, a mixture of anger and happiness filling her. Never again!
The fire roared, the cave was warm. Kalaleq had gone over Kerrick’s unconscious body, pushing at his extremities and nodding happily.
“Good, very good, he is strong — how white his body is! Only here on his face is there freezing, those dark spots. The skin will come off, that is all right. But the other, look how bad.”
He pulled the furs back from Ortnar’s feet. All of the toes on his left foot were frozen, black.
“Must cut them off. Do it now and he won’t feel anything, you’ll see.”
Ortnar groaned aloud, even though still unconscious, and she ignored the grisly chopping sounds behind her as she bent over Kerrick. His forehead was warm now, becoming moist. She stroked it with her fingertips and his eyelids moved, opened, closed again. She took him around the shoulders and lifted his body, held the leather cup of water to his lips. “Drink it, please drink it.” He stirred and swallowed, then slumped back again.
“They must stay warm, have food, get some strength before they can be moved,” Kalaleq said. “We’ll leave meat here from the boat, then maybe go catch some fish. Back at dark.”
The Paramutan left her a great mound of wood as well. She kept the fire banked high, stirred it, and uncovered the glowing coals. When she turned away from it later in the afternoon she found Kerrick’s eyes open, his mouth moving as he tried unsuccessfully to talk. She touched his lips with hers, then stroked them as she would silence a baby.
“I’ll talk. You are alive — and so is Ortnar. I found you in time. You will be all right. There is food here — and water — you must drink that first.”
She supported him again as he drank the water, coughing a bit at the dryness of his throat. When she laid him back down she held tight to him, whispering, her lips close to his ear.
“I made an oath to myself. I swore that I would never allow you to leave me alone again. Where you go, I go. That is the way it must be.”
“The way… it must be,” he said hoarsely. His eyes closed and he slept again: he had been at the brink of death and it is most difficult to return once you have come that close. Ortnar stirred and made a sound and Armun brought water to him as well.
It was almost dark when the Paramutan returned, shouting and calling out to her. “Look at this tiny thing I bring,” Kalaleq called out as he pushed into the cave — holding up a great, ugly fish covered with plates, its mouth bristling with teeth. “This will give them the strength they need. Now they eat.”