He shuffled along in his bare feet, heedless of the sun overhead, heedless of where the road might lead or whether he would find shelter when the cool night came. He shuffled through the brown land, full of scraggly brush and lizards, a land between mountains and forests and plains, a land not quite dead.

His clothes had once been a vibrant pageantry of color, like a rainbow or royal banquet, but now they were dull and brittle, like dried flowers. He covered his head with a cloth that had once been red and was now as sun-washed as the land around him.

Home. The word seemed almost foreign to her. Her energies had been concentrated solely upon reaching the mountains. She had rarely considered the return trip. Even the thought of the journey exhausted her, and what strength she had regained from the water left her. She lowered herself falteringly to the ground.

“Here,” said the young man, handing her a large wafer. “Eat this.”

She ate it thankfully, finding the taste familiar. She drank again from the spring with cupped hands.

He sat beside her. “Are you ready?”

She brushed away her tears, trying to take in every detail. She ran her hand along her nose and lips, across her smooth cheeks. She felt her teeth, her eyebrows, her ears.

Beside her reflection appeared a new face, old and wise and noble. Anilitak stood suddenly, knowing that this must be the one who led her into the water, but when she turned, she found a young man, a little older than she.

“Hello, Anilitak,” he said. “You and I must talk. But first, you must say goodbye to your friends.”

Anilitak focused on the solid ground beneath her, and when that wasn’t enough, she reached out for the cold liquid. The way her fingers broke through the membrane, the sudden chill, the spray landing on her arm when she splashed—she took in each detail, trying to create a scene in her head, trying to enjoy the texture and movement.

Borman sat to wait, helping Anilitak to the ground. Before them spread a wide lake. It was impossibly clear. Borman could peer into its depths as through glass. His parched throat ached at the sight of so much water, and grudgingly he decided to quench his thirst despite Anilitak’s inability to do so. He lowered his face to the water and drank. It was cold and bright and pristine. He drank his fill, overcome with a sense of cleansing, as if by drinking the water he had left all his past worries and fears behind.

Only long after it began did Borman notice Crag’s slowing pace. He knew that Anilitak felt it. He felt her restless energy, her expectation of something new. Perhaps he read his own feelings into her movements, but he was convinced she hoped for some revelation.

He was glad for Crag’s new pace, for now Crag’s shoulder rubbed the almost vertical cliff face as he traversed the narrow path. The starlight revealed a drop of incredible height on his other side. In the dim, diamond clarity of the stars, Borman could make out what seemed like the entire earth laid before them.

“Where are we going?” Borman asked when he had fully recovered his breath. He positioned Anilitak as comfortably as possible, but while Crag’s hands were large, it was still tenuous for two to sit on one hand. Anilitak cautiously felt Crag’s palm, seemed to recognize it, and placed her own firmly against it.

“Up. I already said that,” answered Noritha. She stared quizzically at Borman. “Something’s different about you.”

Borman longed to run ahead and confront this stranger, but he would have to release Anilitak’s hand, and he could not do that, not when she gripped his hand as another might grasp flotsam in the aftermath of a shipwreck. Leaving her would serve no purpose. If foe approached, he would face him later than sooner. If friend, then relief was delayed for a short time. And if the King...he almost wished for his boar teeth back.

Even Erik was silent as they climbed. The sun ascended with them, and as it began to descend, still they climbed. The stairs veered left or right as the lay of the land dictated. By noon, the deep crevice in which they had spent the morning fell away, and they walked on the surface of the mountain, the land behind them spread out like a map.