I see snow-capped, jagged mountains. I see the lights of fires. I see people at those fires. R’jaal looks over at S’bren and M’tok, and there’s a hint of wonder in his voice as he speaks. I don’t know what he says, but my brain imagines it as something like “We’re saved.” Except…this is no better for T’chai, because there are no doctors. He’s going to die on a cold shore instead of a hot one, now.
