“They must stay warm, have food, get some strength before they can be moved,” Kalaleq said. “We’ll leave meat here from the boat, then maybe go catch some fish. Back at dark.”

The Paramutan left her a great mound of wood as well. She kept the fire banked high, stirred it, and uncovered the glowing coals. When she turned away from it later in the afternoon she found Kerrick’s eyes open, his mouth moving as he tried unsuccessfully to talk. She touched his lips with hers, then stroked them as she would silence a baby.

“I’ll talk. You are alive—and so is Ortnar. I found you in time. You will be all right. There is food here—and water—you must drink that first.”

She supported him again as he drank the water, coughing a bit at the dryness of his throat. When she laid him back down she held tight to him, whispering, her lips close to his ear.

“I made an oath to myself. I swore that I would never allow you to leave me alone again. Where you go, I go. That is the way it must be.”

“The way . . . it must be,” he said hoarsely. His eyes closed and he slept again: he had been at the brink of death and it is most difficult to return once you have come that close. Ortnar stirred and made a sound and Armun brought water to him as well.

It was almost dark when the Paramutan returned, shouting and calling out to her. “Look at this tiny thing I bring,” Kalaleq called out as he pushed into the cave—holding up a great, ugly fish covered with plates, its mouth bristling with teeth. “This will give them the strength they need. Now they eat.”

“They are still unconscious—”

“Too long, not good. Need meat now. I show you.”

Two of them lifted Ortnar until he was sitting up, then Kalaleq, moved the hunter’s head gently, pinched his cheeks, whispered in his ear—then clapped his hands loudly. Everyone shouted encouragement when Ortnar’s eyes opened slightly and he groaned. One held his mouth open while Kalaleq hacked off chunks of fish, then squeezed the juice from this into the hunter’s mouth. He spluttered, coughed, and swallowed and there was more excited cheering. When he came blurrily awake they pushed bits of raw fish in between his lips and encouraged him to chew and swallow.

“Tell him in your Erqigdlit tongue, he must eat. Chew, chew, that is it.”

She fed Kerrick herself, would let no other near him, tried to give him her strength as she held him tightly against her breasts.

It was two days before Ortnar was fit to travel. He bit his lip until there was blood upon it when they cut more black flesh from his feet.

“But we are alive,” Kerrick told him when the ordeal was finished.