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.
"I know" The man patted the small back. "I know."
"But it's all right." Gylar sniffed and let go. Running a
sleeve across his nose, he smiled with effort and looked up
at Marakion. "I just want to make it to the top, before . . .
well, before . . ." He gulped. "I just want to make it there,
that's all."
"Yeah." Marakion took a deep breath. "You will, I
promise." Standing, he extended his hand. "Let's go, kid."
Gylar grabbed it, and they began again.
The cave they'd spent the night in was near a natural
groove - almost like a trail - worn in the side of the
mountain. Once the groove ended, the terrain became
exceedingly precarious. More than once, Gylar slipped, and
only Marakion's quick reflexes and strength saved the boy.
About three hours after midday, Gylar stumbled and
had a hard time getting to his feet again.
"I'm sorry, Marakion," he said, shivering as he tried to
stand up once more. "It's - It's just so cold. I can't seem to
make my legs work right."
Marakion helped him to his feet. "You sure you want to
keep going, kid?"
"Yes. I - I have to." Shakily, Gylar moved forward
again.
By evening, Marakion had to carry him.
*****
A few hours after nightfall, Marakion gently set the boy
down in the snow at the summit of Mount Phineous.
Lunitari was a thin crimson slash in the sky. Solinari was
full and bright; it bathed them in a sparkling wash. The
untouched snow looked like flawless, molten silver that had
been poured over the top of the mountain and had hardened
there
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