He walked for nearly four hours, alternately contemplating the pilgrims who had trod the path for centuries before him or trying to fit together the pieces of the puzzle that somehow included the hail chaser, the snow hermit, Larung Gar, and the American archaeologist. At each cairn he encountered he followed the tradition of reciting the mani mantra and adding a stone. He often sensed having his old friend Lokesh at his side and recalled with a pang how when released from prison, they had naively vowed to spend a year walking pilgrims’ paths together. He and the old Tibetan had still been able to spend days off from time to time exploring and rehabilitating ancient pilgrim trails. Once, for a moment, he was sure he heard the old man’s joyful laugh, then realized it was just the chuckling call of a snow partridge sunning itself near the trail.

The air had grown thin, and much cooler, when he crested a small ridge and looked down into a north-facing flat at the base of a huge rock formation from which four long spines protruded. He extracted Shiva’s chart and saw that the spines matched the talons of her garuda bird, the last in her sequence of landmarks. With a bit of imagination, he could see that the curving expanse of stone above the talons might be seen as the wings of a giant bird. The flat was shielded from the wind and opened onto a grove of thick junipers beyond which lay a long field of ragged rock outcroppings. A dozen paces past the talons the flat disappeared into the sky, its thin lip of shale hanging over a cliff that had to be hundreds of feet high. Two horses were tethered by a small spring that ran along the edge of the trees. Folded blankets were stacked by a smoldering fire pit, and at the back, just beyond the farthest talon, a length of heavy black felt had been draped across a rope strung between two trees to make a makeshift shelter, in which he could see a few pots and kettles. He studied Lhakpa’s map, realizing that he was at the opposite side of the rock field where he had chased the kite flyer.

No one called out in challenge as he reached the fire pit. He circled the campfire then knelt at the little spring to rub water onto his face. Suddenly he heard a grunt, a rush of small feet, then something slammed into his hindquarters, sending him sprawling into the spring.