'I didn't go to all this trouble to collect him only let him go now,' Ironfoot grunted. It was taking all of his Shadow strength to hold on. He put his mouth to Timha's ear. 'Wake up, you son of a whore!'
Timha lifted his head and opened his eyes. 'Do not move,' hissed Ironfoot. 'What I want you to do is-'
Timha screamed and jerked, kicking out with his feet. Ironfoot swayed out from the cliff face, digging in with his fingers. Blood began to ooze out from beneath his fingertips where the sharp edge of the handhold cut them.
'Dammit, I said don't move!'
Timha froze. He shut his eyes.
'Now listen,' said Silverdun. 'Timha, I want you to reach up, ever so delicately, with your left hand, and take mine. And when I say delicately, I mean as delicately as the wooing of a swordsmith's daughter.'
Shaking, Timha slowly, slowly reached his arm up. Ironfoot growled in pain, his face red with exertion.
Silverdun reached out and grasped Timha's wrist, and pulled as hard as he could. He grunted and dug in-Timha was heavier than he was. For a few harrowing seconds he believed that Timha was actually going to pull him over the edge. Then Timha's arms were both up on the cliff top and Timha was scrambling up and away.
Silverdun reached down once more. Ironfoot's fingers were slipping, the blood making the handhold impossible to maintain.
'Take my hand!' shouted Silverdun.
'I don't think I can,' Ironfoot whispered. 'I'm almost empty, Silverdun.' His free arm dangled at his side.
'Reach in and strengthen your muscles,' said Silverdun. 'You know how; you taught me.'
'I don't have any re left.'
'Then take mine,' said Silverdun.
'How?'
'When we were at Whitemount, Jedron did it to me,' said Silverdun. 'It must be possible.' Silverdun pushed out toward Ironfoot, not really knowing what he was doing, just pushing raw essence. Something grabbed at him, began to suck at him, just as Ilian/Jedron had. Without the cold iron bars repelling the re, it was slower, but just as certain.
'I can feel it,' Ironfoot muttered. He lifted his free arm, wincing at the pain, and raised it, inch by inch, over his head. Silverdun grabbed him and pulled, and that was when Silverdun realized his mistake. He'd given all of his strength to Ironfoot and had none left for himself. Ironfoot was far heavier than Timha was.
'Pull!' said Ironfoot, his eyes wide.
'I'm working on that,' said Silverdun. 'Just a moment.'
'Silverdun, you bastard!' shouted Ironfoot. His hold began to slip.
Silverdun felt something moving over him. A hand reached down and clasped over his. Sela's hand.
'Together now,' she said.
A minute later, the four of them-Silverdun, Ironfoot, Sela, and Timha-lay on their backs on the flattest part of the ridge they could find, all breathing heavily.
'Where's Je Wen?' asked Ironfoot.
Silverdun allowed his silence to answer the question.
'He had a pregnant wife,' said Ironfoot.
'That he did.'
Ironfoot let out his breath and closed his eyes. Blood dripped from his fingertips onto the dusty rock.
You can't change what is, but you can always make it look like something it isn't.
-Master jedron
ust before sunset they shuffled off of the lowest hill into a row of wheat. They were bloodied, covered and caked with dust, their clothes torn.
They headed toward a farmhouse at the end of the field, next to a stout green barn. A few cows raised their heads to watch them approach.
A farmer was out in the yard behind the house, throwing out grain to the chickens. He looked up at them and froze.
