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"No!" The injured elf raised a hand, anticipating his brother's objections. "We both
understand we know that this is the only thing to do."
"I I suppose you're right."
"You know I'm right!" Kith's voice was almost harsh.
"I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Sithas be careful."
The Speaker of the Stars nodded dumbly. It made him feel like a traitor to leave his
brother like this.
"Good luck, Brother." Kith's voice came to Sithas softly, and he turned back.
They clasped hands, and then Sithas leaned forward to embrace his brother. "Don't
run off on me," he told Kith, with a wry smile.
An hour later, he was past the water hole, where he had stopped to refill his skin.
Now the pass loomed before him like an icy palisade the castle wall of some
unimaginably monstrous giant. Carefully, still some distance away from the ascent, he
selected a route up the slope. He stopped to rest several times before reaching the base,
but before noon, he began the rugged climb.
All the time he remained conscious of Kith-Kanan's eyes on his back. He looked
behind him occasionally, until his brother became a faint speck on the dark mountain
wall. Before he started up the pass, he waved and saw a tiny flicker of motion from the
ledge as Kith waved back.
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The pass, up close, soared upward and away from him like a steep castle wall,
steeper than it had looked from the safe distance of their campsite. The base was a
massive, sloping pile of talus great boulders that, over many centuries, had been pried
loose by frost or water to tumble and crash down the mountainside. Now they teetered
precariously on top of each other, and powdery snow filled the gaps between them.
Sithas strung his bow across his back, next to his sword. His cloak he removed and
tied around his waist, hoping to maintain full freedom of movement.
He picked his way up the talus slope, stepping from rock to rock only after testing
each foothold for security. Once several rocks tumbled away beneath him, and he sprang
aside just in time. Always he gained altitude, pulling himself up the sheer face with his
leather-gloved hands. Sweat dripped into his eyes, and for a moment, he wondered how,
in the midst of this snow-swept landscape, could he get so Abyss-cursed hot? Then a
swirl of icy wind struck him, penetrating his damp tunic and leggings and bringing an instant
shiver to his bones.
Soon he reached the top. Here he encountered long stretches of loose scree, small
stones that seemed to slip and slide beneath each footfall, carrying him backward four
feet for every five of progress.
Kith-Kanan, of course, had been right. He was always right! His brother knew his
way around in country like this, knew how to survive and even how to move and explore,
to hunt and find shelter.
Why couldn't it have been Sithas to suffer the crippling injury? A healthy
Kith-Kanan would have been able to care for both of them, Sithas knew. Meanwhile, he
wrestled with overwhelming despair and hopelessness, and he was not yet out of sight of
their base camp!
Shaking off his self-pity, Sithas worked his way sideways, toward steeper, but more
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solid, shoulders of bedrock. Once his feet slipped away, and he tumbled twenty or thirty
feet down the slope, only stopping himself by digging his hands and feet into the loose
surface. Cursing, he checked his weapons, relieved to find them intact. Finally he reached
a solid rock, with a small shelf shaped much like a chair, where he collapsed in
exhaustion.
A quick look upward showed that he had made it perhaps a quarter of the way up the
slope. At this rate, he would be stranded here at nightfall, a prospect that terrified him
more than he wanted to contemplate.
Resolutely he started upward again, this time climbing along rough outcrops of rock.
After only a few moments, he realized that this was by far the easiest climbing yet, and
his spirits rose rapidly.
Stepping upward in long strides, he relished a new sense of accomplishment. The
valley floor fell away below him; the heavens and more mountains beckoned from
above. He no longer felt the need for rest. Instead, the climb seemed to energize him.
By midafternoon, he had neared the top of the pass, and here the route narrowed
challengingly. Two huge boulders teetered on the slope, with but a narrow crack of
daylight between them. One, or both, could very easily roll free, carrying him back down
the mountainside if they didn't crush him between them first.
No other route presented itself. To either side of the massive rocks, sheer cliffs
soared upward to the pinnacles of the two mountains. The only way through the pass lay
between those two precarious boulders.
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