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were going or what to expect. Li was right, they truly had come to the edge of the

world.

It would have been hard to get lost on that twisting path, at least on the first part of

it, for dozens of expeditions had been here before them, and the trail was clearly

imprinted. Where the tracks disappeared on long, jumbled fields of scree, they simply

had to follow heaps of old frozen yak dung. But even with the sun out and the air

warm, it seemed to Abe that a careless soul could wander forever in this labyrinth,

and he was glad to have Daniel leading them.

At a prominent fork in the glacier, they found a huge, thirty-foot arrow made of

piled rocks. It pointed left.

'Mallory and his bunch went that way,' Daniel said. The Brit's body had never been

found, and the mountaineering community was still divided over whether he had

summited.

'It takes you to the North Col,' Daniel said. That was what climbers called the 'trade

route' up the north side. It was by far the easiest climb up Everest's north side, and

for that reason was the most often repeated. With huge sums of money and

oftentimes national prestige at stake, most expeditions to Everest opted for a sure

summit rather than a new or more difficult route. Part of Abe wished they were

heading for the North Col's well-known terrain and relative safety.

'That's also the trail you take to the Chengri La,' Daniel added. Chengri Pass, which

James Hilton had turned into the fictitious Shangri-La in his Lost Horizon, crossed

south into Nepal at a height of 18,000 feet. Over that la, Daniel and his Lepers'

Parade had escaped during the '84 debacle.

'We go this way,' Daniel pointed, and they turned right into the shadows, moving

quietly, as if giants had built this stone arrow and might still be lurking nearby.

The trail roller-coastered up and down, mostly up. For some reason a sense of

vertigo kept sneaking up on him. From minute to minute, he couldn't shake the sense

of being out of control. Usually he only felt this way on steep rock, and yet it was plain

to see that both his feet were planted on flat ground. Abe tried to reason with his

fears. Finally he just accepted that he was going to have to live with them.

The climbers gained elevation. A day passed, then two, then three. In between they

suffered two long, cramped nights of too many people sharing too few tents. Despite

the bitter cold, Abe ended up sleeping outside under the stars both nights.

Their pace slowed, and so did their thoughts, or at least Abe's did. He tried to

remember Jamie's face, but to his dull alarm it eluded him. The more he tried, the less

he remembered. Before it was too late and she was altogether erased from memory,

Abe decided to quit searching for her and instead concentrated on Carlos's heels in

front of him, plodding, mindless.

'Eventually we'll acclimatize,' Robby told Abe. 'This will seem just like sea level.' Abe

listened to Robby's words but watched his lips. They were bright blue, a symptom of

the hypoxia all of them were enduring. As their bodies cued to the altitude, some of

the blue would return to pink, but Abe doubted 20,000 feet could ever feel like sea

level.

Their third morning on the trail, the climbers penetrated a long bank of penitentes,

or seracs. These were tall pinnacles of ice that had been sharpened to a point by the

sun. Some had warped into grotesque shapes. Others had collapsed. One had toppled

and speared the earth.

Abe looked around, startled by the unnatural quiet in this place. He knew what

these penitentes were but had never seen them up close like this. Abe rubbernecked

until Gus came up behind and nudged him onward.

If ever nature had erected a sign to warn away man, the penitentes were it. It was

like an evil forest in there. The thirty-foot fingers of turquoise ice were utterly

beautiful and seductive, but they were also deadly and looked it.

Here and there, big boulders sat five and ten feet above the ground, balanced atop

thin sun-carved columns of ice like huge petrified mushrooms. 'I feel like Alice in

Wonderland,' Abe said to Gus.

Gus glanced up at him sharply and hushed him with a finger. 'This place is

booby-trapped,' she whispered, and pointed at the hair-trigger stones and penitentes.

'If one of those bastards collapses, it could bring the whole place down.' There was no

way to tiptoe with a fifty-pound pack on, but Abe did his best to walk more gingerly.

Soon they came upon a horribly twisted animal dangling from an ice wall. Half of it

lay outside the ice, the other half still frozen into the blue glass. Birds had pecked

away the eyes, and the elements had stripped much of the rest down to bone.

'Road kill,' Gus whispered, poking at the hide and bones with her ski pole.

It had long matted hair and thick joints, and the ice and wind and sunlight had

rendered it almost shapeless. Though it looked like the thawing remains of a

mastodon, Abe knew it was a yak.

'Is that one of ours?' he whispered. Gus shook her head no.

'Did a rock fall on it?'

'Nah,' whispered Gus. She opened her pocketknife and stepped closer to the thing.

'If a rock fell on it, the yakkies would have butchered it for the meat. This poor thing

probably fell down a crevasse, probably during some expedition. Now the glacier's just

getting around to belching it up. Everest does that a lot, turning out its dead.'

Gus reached forward and grabbed one of the horns and wrenched the animal's head

up. With her free hand, she snaked her knife under the neck and sawed away with the

blade. After a minute, a fist-sized cup of metal fell out of the filthy hair and hit the

ground with a clank.

Gus picked the bell up. She let the clapper strike the metal cup once, gently. The

solitary note trembled through the glass forest. 'For my collection,' she said, stuffing

one of her gloves inside to muffle the clapper.

Abe was glad when they finally reached the end of that hour-long bed of crystal

thorns and stone mushrooms. The rest of the group was waiting for them on a

clearing, lounging against their packs or stretching sore shoulder muscles. J.J. was

reading one of Robby's old Silver Surfer comics, and the Sherpas were sharing some

tsampa, or roasted barley, with Daniel. When Abe and Gus appeared, the climbers all

got to their feet and started loading up.

Only then did Abe realize that the group had divided itself into pairs and trios to

pass through the penitentes, one team at a time. Nobody had told them to do it, they'd

just split up and staggered their own ranks so that if there had been an accident

among the penitentes, there would have been a minimum of victims and a maximum

of rescuers. Abe's confidence in the group soared.

They headed higher up a series of glacial steppes, holding close to a wall of blue and

white ice. Another two hours' ground away and the natural terracing grew steeper.

Here and there they had to grab at outcrops to clamber higher. The party slowed to a

crawl, gasping and resting their hands on their knees.

'I must be getting old,' Kelly said. Abe remembered she was just thirty. Her hair

hung in long golden rags, partly braided.

'Twenty-one thou,' Stump consoled her, referring to the altitude.

'Twenty-one seven,' J.J. corrected him. He looked jolly and warm and primitive in a