Page 162 of The Heart of Winter

"Sariel, I also want us to survive and try it all, where… life is easier," he whispered.

I leaned down and kissed his lips again. They were always so beautiful, but now they were so dry; the icy wind had damaged them.

"And now we have to somehow get back to the cave. You need to warm up properly there."

Without waiting for his answer, I stood up and helped him to his feet. He wobbled, but I supported him with my shoulder, and we walked like that.

It took a lot of effort, but eventually, we somehow made it.

In the cave, I stripped Winter of his clothes and put him in the hot water. I also started a fire and spread our clothes over the branches above it.

I rummaged through all our things and found two last mints, I took one for myself and gave him the other.

Then I undressed myself and dipped into the water to warm up a little, but I knew I couldn’t stay there for long. Everything now depended on the little strength I had left.

We sat in the water for about half an hour. Winter had his eyes closed, and his head rested on the stream's edge. But I knew I had to get him out, or he might not have enough strength to pull himself from the hot water. I basically carried him to shore, dried him off with one of the blankets, and laid him on the mattress.

His eyes were still closed, and when I saw his naked body, I realized just how terribly thin he was—even thinner than I was! Now, the small difference between us could make the difference between life and death…

I covered him up tightly, took two bottles of mineral water, and added some chopped lichen to make a sort of smoothie. Then I said,

"Winter, I'm going to look for food. I'll be back by evening, whether I find anything or not."

I didn’t know if he heard me; I had the feeling he wasn’t fully conscious.

That little bit of polenta couldn’t satisfy his hunger, it couldn’t restore his strength. The only thing that could was more clams or mussels, they were a good source of protein.

Wrapping myself tightly in blankets, I left the cave again.

The fire was barely smoldering, and Winter's clothes hung over it, but I doubted they would dry.

As I exited the cave, I looked around. I knew I had little chance, but I had to try. Searching the mouth of this tiny stream again wasn’t going to yield any good results.

So I narrowed my eyes, considering my options, then I noticed that the cove we were in ended in a small rocky peninsula. What was beyond it? Probably the other side of the island, but the problem was that to get there, I’d have to climb over a steep, rocky slope, which naturally acted as a barrier between the two halves of the island.

I vaguely remembered Winter mentioning that reaching the more remote parts of the island was difficult. Some cliffs hid the other side. But difficult didn’t mean impossible.

Walking at a steady pace, I set off in that direction. Fortunately, it was sunny and not too windy, though the temperature still hovered around freezing. I moved with determination, hoping to reach the unexplored part of the island before sunset. As I followed the shoreline, I kept an eye out for clams but didn’t spot any.

Every once in a while, I found empty shells. There were more around the cape, but all of them were empty. It seemed the mussels lived deeper in the water, and only storm waves pushed their shells to the shore.

I reached the rocky part of the peninsula. Climbing was risky since some of the stones were icy, but I noticed a few bird nests. I was curious about them, but they were empty, perhaps it wasn’t the breeding season.

Feeling disappointed, I pushed on.

Eventually, I managed to climb to the top of the rocky promontory and saw a general view of the other side of the coast with a few smaller coves. I gritted my teeth and carefully descended from the ridge.

I had to be very careful not to slip, because this side was icier, and there was snow in the crevices.

Finally, I reached the beach below and continued on toward the other side of the island. I was exhausted, stopping occasionally to drink, picking pieces of lichen from the rocks to eat.

But I stubbornly continued my journey, crossing one cove and then another. I knew there was only one more left, separated from the rest by a tiny point. Farther inland, I could see some cliffs, but the beach was wide enough that I didn’t have to climb them; I could walk beneath them.

When I emerged from behind a small gravel mound in the middle of the point, I blinked in surprise.

I realized this cove was the mouth of a small river or perhaps a wetland. It was a fairly wide valley with a flat bottom. Its slopes were covered in snow only at the top; below, the grass and shrubs were… still green.

The water spread out widely here, forming what looked like a series of small lakes and ponds. I stared at it, confused, until I noticed—above the water's surface, in some places, there was a faint mist rising. Could it be that this was the mouth of a second stream, a warm spring that, instead of flowing into the ocean, first created a large wetland?

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