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 frost-bite 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.