She climbed up into the other cockpit seat, glanced again at Dodge, who smiled at her, and for some reason, his father’s words sifted through her. “Forgiveness isn’t for the person you’re forgiving, Echo. It’s for yourself. It’s what you do to be set free.”

Maybe, yes. But somehow Dodge’s forgiveness of her had also set her free. Released the terrible ache, the horrible regret inside.

They passed over the Alaska Range, Mount Mather to the west, its ridged back not unlike old George’s, gray and slumbering, then the now-running McKinley River, sluicing down into the northern Denali basin.

Yes, up here in the wild, great alone, George could find a new home, away from people he might hurt.

“That’s Wonder Lake, out the port window,” Dodge said.

She spotted the lake sitting in a pocket beneath the mountain. The sun sparkled on it, already picking up the rose gold of the late hour.

“We’ll set down near the shore, offload him, then cross the river to wait until he wakes.”

Dodge was already descending into the river basin. It spat and frothed its way free of the Muldrow Glacier, flowing northwest to the Kantishna River, on its way to the ocean. Dead logs and ice floe still clogged the water, the tundra spongy along its banks. Dodge searched for a landing zone and finally found a patch of barren ground. He set the chopper down.

“Let’s get that bear off my deck!”

Hank was already up and attaching the straps to the lift they’d devised to move the bear. He lay on a massive canvas sling, still snoozing. Hank checked his vitals, then Echo got out as Dodge extended the lift arm and secured the bracing post to the ground. He nodded at Echo.

She worked the lift. The pulleys raised the animal, the sling holding George like a massive hammock. Dodge and Hank guided him out of the chopper as the winch moved slowly, and then Echo carefully lowered the animal to the ground.

George groaned and moved his head.

She shot a look at Dodge, who was already unhooking the straps. “Let’s leave it and get out of here,” he said. “We’ll come back for the hammock.”

Hank had unhooked the other straps and Echo retracted the arm as, again, George emitted a deep rumble.

“Get in, Echo,” Dodge shouted as Hank took the back.

But Echo couldn’t move.

Her father should be here to say goodbye. Despite the danger, they’d needed George for a while. He’d been something to care for, something to focus on.

Something dangerous and feral as he grew, that needed to be set free.

“Echo! Now!”

Right.

She climbed in just as George rumbled to life, shuddering.

Dodge was airborne by the time George found his feet.

The bear lifted his head and let out a bone-shearing roar of anger.