The soft snow on the ground whispered to me, inviting me to curl up in it and fall asleep and awake into warmth. I heard it and obeyed, dropping down in a snowbank. My ankle no longer hurt. As I closed my eyes, I felt Frodo’s hot breath, but it wasn’t enough to bring me back. Then I felt the sharp point of a stick in my ribs.

“Get up,” Shad said, poking me again. His hand and three others reached down to me. I stretched out my frozen right arm, and they pulled me up.

I ran the mile in college. Never the relay. In tennis I preferred singles over doubles. I never wanted to depend on someone else. I had more confidence in me than anyone. I was never a passenger, always the driver. I took pride in my rugged individualism. But when I pulled on the outstretched hands of my comrades, I stood by their strength, not mine.

Ten minutes later I’d regained some energy and walked on my own. Just then, Shad collapsed without warning. I picked him up and put my arms around him, massaging his body as I had massaged his hand and Malaiki’s. The others drew close. We all embraced each other, moving our hands on each other’s backs and faces. The warmth from our bodies merged and sustained each other like glowing coals piled on one another in an Arctic squall. Frodo’s eyes drooped, as he pressed hard against me. He didn’t understand. Me neither.

“I feel better,” Shad said at last. “Let’s move on. Soon it will be morning. We can make it till then. We have to. Ask the King to help us.”

Shad was too weak to talk anymore, so Malaiki prayed. So did I. I could hardly hear her voice. And I didn’t recognize my own.

Morning fog in the eastern lowlands, hit by a sudden red sunburst, created a frozen explosion of light reflecting off the snowy slopes. We squinted at the sunrise, and despite our sleepless night stopped to absorb the reviving hope it brought.

I looked down to an incredible view of evergreen trees divided by meandering streams, where hills stood like islands in a rolling green sea of forested valleys and low ridges. How could any place with a view so beautiful be so deadly? Or was this the price that must be paid to gain perspective?

We reached a bend where the path was extremely narrow, where only one could walk at a time. Fortunately there were portions of a guardrail, consisting mostly of cables and shafts of metal and poles, driven into the ground at the most treacherous parts. The day was dark and overcast, and thick mists shrouded sections of the trail. At times we leaned on the guardrail, feeling our way, with it as our reference point and guardian.

We heard a loud rough voice up ahead, coming our direction.