Unlike D’Argen in his little corner, Thar had a lot more area around him to explore. Which also meant that D’Argen would have to go to him, instead of the other way around. Unfortunately, D’Argen did not have the energy to scale the ice wall sideways until he reached the other. Even more unfortunately, he had to try anyway because the two could not talk at this distance without yelling and Thar was already straining his mahee.

Not even a quarter of the way through scaling the wall, D’Argen was steaming with anger. Too many times did the crack under his foot become larger or a small ledge appeared much closer to him than he needed. He started stabbing his hooks much harder into the wall of ice and some of the cracks he created spidered up and down. Every time, he froze to stare and wait. Every time, the ice remained together.

By the time he was halfway through, he was sweating so much that his gloves were soaked in it and his hands were slipping on the handles of the climbing hooks. Another three steps sideways and if it were not for the leather straps around his wrists, he would have fallen.

Or Thar would have caught him.

The idiot.

D’Argen started swearing under his breath with every movement, pushing his body. He changed the swears into a spell multiple times to strengthen his arms, but either the magic wore off too fast or he was too tired and needed the help again much sooner.

He needed to take a break, but he was finally close enough to hear Thar’s voice as he said, “Almost.”

“Stop using your mahee, your fucking idiot,” D’Argen swore to the ice in front of his nose. Thar did not respond to that one but he did not create an additional ledge for D’Argen again until the runner’s foot slipped.

“Take my hand,” Thar said and it sounded so close. D’Argen was startled to see Thar leaning against the wall, one of his hands covered up to the wrist in ice as an anchor in the wall while the other reached out for him.

D’Argen rolled his eyes and pointedly ignored the hand in order to stab the climbing hook into the wall of ice one more time. Thar winced and D’Argen decided it would be better for his own sanity to ignore the other as he shifted to the side. Once he was almost over the ledge, he finally looked at Thar and said, “Help me down, will you?”

Thar immediately wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled, taking most of his weight. D’Argen was so tired and his limbs were all numb from either pain or strain, but he held himself together long enough for Thar to take them a few steps away from the edge. Then, he let his good leg buckle under him. Thar slowly lowered him to the ground so he was sitting but D’Argen let him go completely until he was lying down.

The cold was horrible. He was sweating so much but the cold was absolutely horrible for his lungs and mouth. Even his eyes were dry and he could not stop blinking to try to get them wet. After a moment, the air around him started warming up. D’Argen closed his eyes so he would not roll them and let Thar take care of him.

“May I touch you?” Thar asked.

D’Argen scoffed and attempted to wave a hand in the air in a ‘go ahead’ gesture. He was not sure if it translated properly. Thar hesitated only for a moment before he started touching D’Argen’s body. First, he focused on his leg. Both of them knew that D’Argen’s ribs were more fragile but D’Argen could hold his breath and run. He could not, however, run on a broken leg, no matter how much his mahee helped him.

“Your hip is not fully in alignment,” Thar said once his cold hands had prodded around the painful bump of his hip enough.

“No wonder it hurts so much,” D’Argen muttered in reply.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“You should not have been—”

“Shut up and just set it,” D’Argen interrupted and somehow found the strength to lift one arm in front of his face. Without thinking too much about it, he bit into the thick leather of his bracer and waited. He could not help but tense up even if he knew it would hurt less if he was relaxed. Thar’s cold hands were like ice teeth tearing at his skin. He pushed suddenly and through the pain, those hands turned into a cold balm to wash away the burn of bone grinding against bone.

Once D’Argen could breathe again, Thar was already examining his ribs with gentle prods and a sliver of mahee inside his lungs.

“Stop that,” D’Argen snapped out and slapped his hands away. Both hands and mahee retracted and through it was much harder to breathe, it at least meant that Thar was not using what little he must have left of his mahee for useless endeavours. “They’ll heal on their own.”

“Your lungs are torn up from the cold.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Your ribs are not helping you heal.”

“I know,” D’Argen stressed with a hiss and a glare.

Thar stared at him with narrowed eyes. It turned into a battle to see who was more stubborn. In the end, Thar conceded because, for some reason, he put D’Argen’s comfort over his safety. It was rare, so rare, for Thar to touch anyone at all, let alone to do so without asking for permission first. At least, that was D’Argen’s experience with the other man. When he thought back to how Thar had been sitting on him to protect him from the falling ice and snow, it must have been so uncomfortable for him.

“Sorry,” D’Argen muttered without looking at him.

“All is fine. There is a path we can take to go down.”

Very smooth change of subject. D’Argen rolled his eyes and forced his arms behind him to push him into sitting up. They were shaking so badly. Once sitting up, he raised them and started clenching his fists over and over as he muttered another spell. It made the blood rush through his arms much faster than before and though the pins and needles in his fingers were horrible, they were better than the numbness that had started to set in with fatigue and the cold.

“Why down?” D’Argen finally asked once he shook out his wrists.

“There is no path leading up,” Thar answered as if that was reason enough.

“We can climb—” D’Argen interrupted himself to look back at the wall he just scaled. His hooks were still hanging there. The only pair he had. Thar did not have a pack with him. With D’Argen’s leg still hurting, he would not be able to climb without those hooks. Thar could, but only if he was using his mahee.

“How far down?” D’Argen asked instead.

Thar hummed and he looked in thought for a moment. When D’Argen felt the cold around him increase, he knew the man was using his mahee. He wanted to swear at him to get him to stop, but that had done nothing to help so far and it would be a waste of energy. D’Argen was too tired to get into a fight right now.

“The ice reaches really far down. I expect it to be at sea level.”

D’Argen’s eyes widened without his permission as he thought that. If the ice truly went that far down and based on how massive the entire crevasse was, D’Argen was starting to think that the entire mountain itself was one giant iceberg. Was it possible that a piece had broken off from the rest of the sheet that had moved further south and started melting in the hot summers? That it somehow was shaped like a mountain with not a single piece of solid ground anywhere under all that ice and snow?

If that was the case, that meant there was an even larger shell of ice somewhere further north. It was, however, much more likely that the original mountain was much smaller and that ice and water and wind had cracked it apart.

“Lead the way,” D’Argen conceded after a moment.

“Not yet. Rest first.”

“I’m fine.”

“Well, I am not,” Thar said and though he was not looking at D’Argen it almost felt like he was sulking.

Instead of arguing further, D’Argen let his body fall back down on the spot so he was lying on the ice. He turned his head to watch as Thar shifted his robes around and then sat down with his legs crossed, back straight, and chin down. He was sitting with his back to D’Argen. D’Argen noticed the large swatch of dark stains and ripped cloth over the man’s shoulder and down to his waist.

“How hurt are you?” The stains looked dry, at least, even if they were huge.

“I will be fine.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“I need to concentrate. Please, be quiet.”

As Thar concentrated on meditating, the light of Abbot’s spell finally faded away and they were thrown into a strange shade of darkness with a blue tinge. D’Argen could still see Thar’s form, a white outline against the black, but the edge of their resting spot blended in with the chasm beyond it.

An entire mountain made of ice. It was not that it was impossible, it was just that D’Argen’s luck was truly something horrible. They should have made sure Kassar came with them rather than remaining on the ship. Or, at the least, he could have shared some of his luck with more than just Abbot.

D’Argen could not wait to be standing on rocks or dirt rather than ice.