Together they made up the sling using the staff and one of the cloaks, tying and looping the sleeves and the loose ends of the flaps to form the cradle. Then they fitted Angel inside, shouldered their packs, and picked up the sling. It felt to Kirisin as if Angel weighed three hundred pounds.

“Don’t worry,” Simralin grunted from the other end of the staff. “We’ll stop and rest on the way. Just let me know when it gets to be too much.”

It was already too much, Kirisin thought. But he didn’t say so. He just nodded. He would do what it took to get Angel down the mountain. She would have done the same for them. She would have given up her life.

Half an hour later, they were back outside the caves and making their way across the ice fields toward the snow line and the meadows that lay below.

FOUR

IT TOOK KIRISIN AND SIMRALINalmost four hours of hiking interspersed with frequent rest stops to carry Angel Perez back down the slopes of Syrring Rise to the meadow where they had left the hot-air balloon. Their trek was lengthened by the need to take a circuitous route in order to avoid the rougher terrain. By the time they reached the edge of the ice fields and stepped off the glacier onto visible ground, it was already midmorning. When they came in sight of the balloon, the sun was directly overhead and midday was approaching.

The day started out bright and clear, but as the hours wore on it turned hazy and the sky began to fill with clouds. A storm was forming over the mountain, and they had to get away before it struck or they would be trapped another night. Simralin pushed hard to keep Kirisin moving, even after he told her that he didn’t think he could go any farther. He surprised himself by putting aside any thought for his own discomfort and responding to his sister’s urgings and his own sense of duty to the injured Knight of the Word.