'Yes. Go home.'
'Easie, I don't need carrying.'
'Then do it, Saltlick. As your chief, I command you — whatever she says or does.'
'Damasco, you…'
Estrada hadn't time to finish her sentence before Saltlick swept her from the ground. She glared down at me and looked as though she'd try to struggle free.
'Listen to sense for once. He can manage.'
'Not tired,' agreed Saltlick. Though it couldn't possibly be true, he sounded as if he meant it.
'Easie,' she murmured.
'Quiet.'
And for once, she was. I held a hand near her face and felt gentle, regular sighs of breath. She was fast asleep.
'All right, Saltlick,' I whispered, 'let's get going.'
Estrada and I swapped places twice through that interminable night, one carried while the other clambered up the rock-strewn trail. At least, I assumed there was a trail. I saw no sign of one, but Saltlick seemed to be guided by something. I followed in his footsteps as well as I could. Whenever I diverged even slightly I'd trip over some obstruction or slip on a loose patch of ground.
My first shift on foot ran to around midnight. I remember the moon hanging directly above me like a pendulum, fat and heavy, ready to fall at any moment. Saltlick clambering over a particularly awkward outcrop roused Estrada, and she insisted we change places.
My second shift began a little before sunrise. I woke, saw Estrada labouring beside Saltlick and was overcome with guilt. I'd already regretted my nobility by the time we'd swapped places, but it was too late. Estrada was fast asleep in Saltlick's arms and I was stumbling around boulders beneath the flush of a new day.
It was a glorious dawn, the sky streaked with shades of crimson and orange and bright, brittle pink. It was spoiled only by the crawling black dots far below that represented Moaradrid's men. They were still on our trail. But they were no nearer. Thanks to Saltlick, we'd kept our lead through the night.
If the three of us might not be good for much, we were good at surviving. When Saltlick chose that moment to point with his free hand to a gap in the peaks above and whisper, 'Home,' I couldn't help but laugh aloud. Against all the odds, through everything Moaradrid and fate had conspired to hurl at us, we'd made it.
That final stretch of mountainside was almost a pleasure. It was as hard as everything that had gone before, and worse for the fact that I could see now how broken the terrain I clambered over was. Yet what did it matter? I'd kept a promise for the first time in my life. It was a good promise and I hadn't broken it. That victory seemed more important to my giddy, sleep-starved brain than the ferocious battle in the valley ever had. I scrambled with gusto, smiling to think of Moaradrid's thugs suffering below. They had no giant to help them, no small triumphs to keep them going.
For the longest while we clambered up wide steps littered with splintered chunks of rock. Then near the summit, those gave way to a wide slope of pebbles and loose shale. If there was the faintest suggestion of a path, it was no less treacherous than the rest of the climb had been. I tripped frequently, only saving myself each time by driving my fingers up to the knuckles into the scree. Even Saltlick, who so far had managed to compensate for the loss of his hands with sheer strength, began to struggle. Estrada gurgled unhappily in his arms whenever he slipped.
The opening was tantalisingly close. Estrada stirred and mumbled something. It seemed a shame for her to sleep through Saltlick's homecoming.
'Wake up,' I called. 'We're almost there.'
She shook her head and wriggled, forcing Saltlick to set her on her feet. She stared around, rubbing her eyes, clearly not quite awake.
'What? Where are we?'
I pointed.
She followed my finger, looked drowsily at Saltlick and back to me. Then her eyes widened, as realisation dawned.
'Oh! Is that it?'
I nodded, grinning hugely.
'Way home,' agreed Saltlick.
Estrada gazed back in the direction we'd come from, to the indistinct, dark shapes that represented our pursuers.
She smiled, and the smile widened and ended in a ringing, bright laugh. 'We did it. After everything…' The smile flickered, and was gone. 'Everything that's happened.'
I could practically see the memories parading behind her eyes: that first, hideous battle all those days ago, Panchetto's death, the fight in the canyon and Alvantes's terrible injury. But there was nothing there that could be changed now, and nothing I was about to let spoil my good mood.
I punched Saltlick on the thigh, and said, 'Come on. Lead the way.'
Saltlick, perhaps following the situation for once, set off hurriedly towards the gap above. I fell in behind, taking more care, and after the slightest hesitation Estrada moved to join me. By the time we'd caught up, he'd come to a halt on the narrow outcrop that topped the incline. Twin crags towered ahead of him like miniature mountain peaks. Between ran the narrow cleft of the opening, and beyond that…
I heard a choking sound, and realised it was me.
' You can't be serious! '
CHAPTER 23
The gap between the crags ran for perhaps another twenty paces. Beyond that point the trail continued with only empty air to either side. It could optimistically be described as a bridge, albeit one crafted solely by the forces of nature, and then in one of her more capricious moods. Bridges, after all, were traditionally wider, and generally had something to stop a traveller being torn away by screaming winds and hurled into the void.
'You don't really think I'm crossing that?'
Saltlick looked at me questioningly. Then, apparently not seeing any reason for concern, he pointed to the far side.
'Home.'
I gulped. I'd never been afraid of heights. I'd never been particularly afraid of bears either, but that didn't mean I'd wrap my head in fresh meat and thrust it into one's mouth. Knowing there was no going back didn't make the prospect any more appealing.
Estrada and I followed Saltlick as far as the end of the crevasse. He carried on without pause, as if there was no difference to walking between stone walls and terrifying expanses of emptiness. In less than a minute he'd reached the midpoint, where he paused to see if we were following. The bridge was so narrow that he barely had room to turn around, and his feet sent pebbles dancing off the edge.
It was only as I watched them fall that I understood where we'd come out. The span hung over a strip of broiling sea far below, which separated the mountainside we were on from the landmass towering ahead. That was the giant kingdom, hidden on a pinnacle all its own, held apart by this narrow causeway. It rose like the ramparts of some impossible fortress from a froth of white water, and behind, the ocean stretched crystal blue to the horizon.
'Follow?'
Saltlick's cry made the whole span tremble. 'Keep your voice down!'
Cowed, he waved instead.
I looked to Estrada, vaguely hoping she would volunteer to go first. She merely stood watching me, arms crossed, a wicked smile playing over her lips.
'Fine. All right.'
