Part 19 (2/2)

Walking back alone was perhaps the hardest thing he had ever had to do.

In his darkened state he felt he had no reason to live, but some stubborn and unvanquished voice told him he must return. Weak and trembling, genuinely ill, he had no other goal but to reach the cave and collapse. Digging deep, time and time again, he searched for the will to go on, just a little farther, holding the image of the girl like an icon and a Quest before him. Many times he stumbled, and had to rouse himself to keep from lying down to sleep, and die, in the snow. So weak and pathetic had his movement become that two jackals thought to attack him, and had to be driven back, though they followed the rest of the way.

At long, impossible length he reached the gorge path and slithered down.

Upon reaching its base he could not at first rouse himself to continue.

A great wall of despairing fatigue seemed to stand before him, on top of him, and in his bones, an impenetrable 'No' formed of unendurable stone. He was tired, and the weight was too much.

His one desire at that moment was to sleep and say goodbye. Just sleep.

Sylviana would understand. After all, she still had Akar. Together they could fly with Skither to the Island, and all would be well. And he smiled, because Skither was not dead. That was only a dream.

Together they rode on his wings, above the parting clouds.....

Through the delirium he heard a confused sound of high yapping barks and deeper, more terrible growls. Then he felt a tugging at his shoulder and finally, the cutting of teeth. He jerked forward in dismay, expecting to be a.s.sailed.

But the call to life had come from Akar, who stood guarding him quietly in the darkness, stood waiting for him to revive, stand, and make the final effort. Kalus raised himself slowly, let out a groan of pain and loss, then followed him up the merciless incline.

At length a door was opened in front of him and a feverish light streamed out. He fell forward. Perhaps someone caught him; perhaps they did not.

He knew nothing more.

Chapter 19

Kalus revived (or came to) the next morning, but could not at first remember where he was. The events of the day before had struck so suddenly..... Again he lay in the bed of cool moss, covered with furs, his wounds being treated by the soothing hands of a woman-child. He turned as if in a dream to look upon the face of his redeemer.

But no, that was long ago. Now the woman-child was his friend, his mate. Was it possible? Why was the chamber so cold? And what of the wolf-cub that lay nestled beside him? As the cloud of amnesia, like a blow to the head which jarred him to another time, slowly cleared, he remembered. And understood. The images of Kamela's death came back to him with feverish clarity. He s.h.i.+vered, and a burst of physical panic made him bolt upright, scattering the furs and startling the cub.

The girl took him by the shoulders and forced him back down.

Unprotected, his skin felt icy cold, and his body ached with a dull, yellow pain.

One by one the furs were replaced on top of him. He did not fight, but clung to them as if to life, and tucked the edges beneath him to block out the cold. The need to struggle back to warmth was so great, and so immediate, that his mind had no time for despair, or the full realization of his plight. He s.h.i.+vered, and sucked his aching teeth and thought of nothing. At length he slept, though fitfully and full of dark dream.

He woke to find his worst fears come true. He was weak and ill, trapped in Winter, physically unable to fight for his survival. There was little food, and now no chance of getting more. The woman-child he loved, and the pup whose life was now his responsibility, would perish alongside him. All was ended. He had failed.

But all was not ended. That would have been too simple and absolute.

They still had the reserves, though tapping into them so soon went against all his instincts, and roused the already powerful voices of fear inside him. And though to one who has never had to survive, literally, day to day, these emotions may seem mere words, to Kalus they were as powerful and menacing as the physical threat of a lion. How much more of this could his spirit endure? To rise, again and again, from the decimations of this world, to go on without hope for so long, never seeing the end of the tunnel.

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