"All right then. Let's get you up. We still have a long way to go."
I managed to get him back up on his feet, although he was staggering even worse than before. But there was nothing I could do about that - there was nothing I could do about any of this but keep going forward.
So I put my arm under Logan's shoulder, helping him as much as I could, and together, we stumbled forward into the storm.
I managed to half-drag, half-carry Logan another mile down the trail before he passed out. One moment, he was hobbling along as best he could. The next, he was facedown in the snow.
"Logan? Logan!"
I turned him over and shook his shoulder, but he didn't respond. I bent down and put my ear over his mouth. His warm breath rasped against my skin, and his chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm.
I let out a quiet breath. He was still breathing, still alive.
But for how long? It was even colder now than it had been before, and the wind was howling like a pack of Fenrir wolves. Plus, I still hadn't seen anyplace where we could take shelter from the storm. I wanted to scream and cry and beat my fists against all the stupid rocks and trees around us. I would have, if I thought that my knuckles wouldn't crack and bleed and that the tears wouldn't have frozen on my face and added to my misery.
"Now what are you going to do?" a voice interrupted my thoughts. "Because the Spartan is pretty much done for."
I looked down at Vic, who was still snug in his scabbard around my waist. I'd been so focused on getting down the mountain that I'd pretty much forgotten about the sword, but he was peering at Logan, his purple eye bright against the white wash of snow.
I knew what Logan would say if he were still awake - that I should leave him behind. That there was no way he could get off the mountain now, and that I should save myself. But no matter what Logan said, I wasn't leaving him out here in the cold. He'd freeze to death - or bleed out from the roc wound. No, I needed to keep moving, and I needed to figure out some way to take him with me.
"Gwen?" Vic asked again. "You need to make a decision - fast."
"I'm going to save him - and us too."
I opened my backpack, digging through all of the items inside, hoping one of them would give me some sort of spark of an idea about how I could get us down the mountain.
Matches, extra clothes, a couple of comic books, my cell phone, a flashlight, a pack of granola, a bottle of water. Important items, but nothing that would help me right now. I was just about to zip the bag back up when I noticed something thin and fragile at the very bottom of it - Ran's net.
Desperate, I pulled out the net and held it up. Thin strands of gray seaweed woven together and tied off with a series of tiny, brittle knots. It looked even smaller and more pitiful than I remembered. I started to wad it up and shove it back into my bag when I thought about what the ID card in my bag said about the net - and what it claimed the artifact could do.
This net is thought to have belonged to Ran, the Norse goddess of storms, and was rumored to be among her favorite fishing gear. Despite its fragile appearance, the net is quite strong and can hold much more than it should be able to, given its relatively small size. The braided seaweed itself is thought to have the unusual property of making whatever is inside it seem much lighter than its actual weight . . .
I looked at the net, then at Logan - and I finally got the idea I needed so badly.
I closed my backpack and put it on my shoulders again. Then, I wrapped the net around Logan. At first, I didn't think there was going to be enough seaweed to cover him, but every time I reached down, there was more and more of the net to use. Finally, I looped the last bit of it around his shoulders. I propped him up into a sitting position, wrapped one arm around his waist, and put my shoulder under his. Then, I drew in a breath and lifted him. To my surprise, I was able to pick him up as if he weighed no more than a couple of dumbbells.
"Come on, Spartan," I said. "Back on your feet."
"Okay . . ." Logan mumbled, his eyes fluttering open before sliding shut again. "Okay, I'm up . . ."
Slowly, I started down the trail once more. Oh, it was still awkward, with Logan half-clinging, half-hanging off me and me trying to keep the net from slipping off his body, but he was much, much lighter than before. I could at least hobble down the mountain, even though I was moving much, much slower than before. Still, every step I took was one that got us closer to the bottom.
"Thank you, Ran," I murmured, although I doubted the goddess was even listening to or interested in my troubles.
I don't know how long I guided Logan down the trail. It might have been five minutes, it might have been an hour. Time ceased to have any meaning. There was just cold and snow and wind and trees. More than once, my boots slipped in the snow, and I almost sent both of us sliding down the trail, but I managed to stop myself before my feet went out from under me.
I'd just kept myself from dumping us in the snow for the fifth time when I realized there was something on the trail ahead of me.
I froze, Logan hanging off my side like some sort of weird, extra limb, and squinted through the flakes. What was that shape up ahead? For a moment, I thought it might be a Reaper, someone who'd been stationed on the back side of the mountain to finish us off if we made it this far down the trail, but the shape didn't seem dark and slender enough for that. It looked . . . big. That was all I could really tell about it. Maybe a boulder had fallen across the path, like Rachel had said. Well, wouldn't that just be terrific.
I sighed, tightened my grip on Logan and the net, and surged forward once more. Maybe it would just be a tree or rock that I could find some way to get over or around.
I'd almost reached the shape - whatever it was - when a sharp, fierce screech cut through the swirl of snow.
I froze again. I'd lowered my head against the cold, looking down at the trail, so I had a perfect view of the lion's paw right in front of me. It was easily larger than my hand and featured long, sharp, curved claws that glittered like ebony against the white snow.
I swallowed and slowly raised my head.
A gryphon stood in the middle of the trail, looming over me and Logan.
Chapter 31
I stared up at the huge creature.
Lion's body, eagle head, bronze fur, wings, and eyes. The creature looked even larger than the Black roc that Vivian and Agrona had flown away on, probably a male, from the size of him. I stared down at his claws again, before my gaze drifted up to his curved beak. It too glinted like ebony, despite the snow.
Finally, I raised my gaze to the creature's eyes. They glowed like bright, warm, bronze lanterns in the midst of the swirling snow. I stared into the orbs, but I didn't see any trace of Reaper red in the creature's eyes. So this was a wild gryphon then, and not one the Reapers had caught and forced to serve them. I didn't know if that made things better or worse. Because a wild gryphon could kill me and Logan as easily as a Reaper-controlled one could. Claws were still claws, after all.