Vespers Rising (The 39 Clues #11)(57)

Her muscles quivered. She gripped her poles and stared ahead fiercely, telling herself not to give up. When had she ever given up, even when she was exhausted and discouraged and sure she’d never succeed? That determination had kept her going. It had sustained them through the Clue hunt. Dan had it, too.

She glanced behind. The two skiers were moving so fast. They were close enough now that she could hear the schuss of their skis. They weren’t flailing like her and Dan. They were like machines.

Her leg muscles had gone past burning. They were shaking uncontrollably. The whole day had been too much, the lack of sleep, the shocks, the near-death experience. Amy felt tears well up and begin to fall.

They weren’t going to make it.

She’d made the wrong choice, coming off the main trail. With another quick glance behind her, she could see that the Vespers were almost on them now.

Looming ahead, she saw an outcropping of snow, a small cliff, and she cried out to Dan and turned to miss it. They’d never make it over without falling. They made the turn, avoiding the outcropping, but the maneuver had cost them. The Vespers caught up.

It was over.

The Vespers stopped in front of them, turning in a spray of snow. Amy and Dan were forced to pull up. The only sound was their labored breathing and the hiss of the wind. She noticed how dusky it was, how the lights of the village seemed so far below them. How alone they were. To the left was the crag she’d avoided earlier. To the right, more forest. The snow ahead was wide and empty, but the Vespers blocked them from it.

Casper spoke. “The ring. That’s all we want.”

Was he telling the truth? They were certainly willing to send them plummeting to their deaths just a little while ago.

Amy gripped her ski poles while her mind worked frantically. Had she reached a dead end? If she handed over the ring, would there be a chance for them? She couldn’t let anything happen to Dan. She was his older sister, his protector. He hated that, but it was true.

“Don’t even think about it,” Dan murmured to her. As usual, he knew what she was thinking — she would sacrifice the ring for him.

She felt the ring, snug on her thumb under her glove. Suddenly, in the midst of all this terror, she felt the shimmer of memories. One after the other, cascading down — Grace, her gaze so intent, handing her a new book in her library. Grace, lying on the window seat near the end, pain etched in every line on her face but turning to Amy and summoning up some inner light that somehow transformed her back into a vital person. Shielding Amy from her pain, shielding both of them from the terrible knowledge that death was in her bones and it was coming soon.

That was courage. That was strength.

How could she answer that with anything less?

“It’s stuck,” she told him. “I can’t get it off my finger.”

Casper withdrew a long, glittering knife. “Darling, that isn’t a problem.”

Suddenly, a dark shape appeared out of nowhere, flying so fast over the outcropping to their right that at first Amy thought it was a bird of prey instead of a skier.

Just as he hit the ground in a spray of snow, she felt movement to the other side. A snowboarder exploded off the rocky cliff to the left, twisting high in the air. He seemed to hang there for a long, extended moment. Casper nearly fell backward as he grabbed for his ski poles.

The snowboarder landed just inches away from Bruno, barreling into him and sending him airborne. Bruno landed on his back and began to slide.

“Whoa,” Dan breathed.

Wyoming dug in his poles and took off. The skier changed direction and flew after him. Amy saw gray hair sticking out from the close-fitting wool hat. The amazing skier was Fiske!

Meanwhile, ahead of Wyoming, Bruno kept sliding. He must have hit an icy patch of snow. The mystery snowboarder was bearing down on him when suddenly Bruno disappeared. He was there one moment … and then gone. The snowboarder immediately turned his board and stopped.

It was too late for Wyoming. He was flying so fast on the ice that he went airborne for a moment and then he, too, disappeared. Fiske pulled up, the snow pluming out from the edges of his skis. He stood a minute, looking down.

Amy blinked. What had happened?

Cautiously, Amy and Dan skied closer. Fiske held up a hand so they stopped a few inches away from him and the snowboarder.

The snowboarder turned and said just one word. “Crevasse.”

It was Erasmus.

They followed Erasmus and Fiske down the mountain, skiing slowly as the light faded. Amy’s muscles were so tired that she had to use all her concentration to get down the mountain without falling.

They skied directly to the back porch of the chalet. Amy’s fingers shook as she tried to get out of her ski boots. Fiske bent and gently helped her, then Dan, as Erasmus looked out over the twilight.

“Dude,” Dan said tiredly to Erasmus. “A seven-twenty McTwist, and you nailed it. Awesome.”

One corner of Erasmus’s mouth lifted in a small smile. “Thanks. Dude.”

Amy looked down at her uncle’s gray head. He took off the second boot and rested his hand on her stocking foot. When he looked up, she smiled her thanks. He smiled back, but the smile was full of worry. He knew how close they’d come to disaster, just as she did.

But behind the worry, she saw something deep and rock steady. Love.

She stood up at the same time as Fiske, and he gathered her into a hug. She felt the surprising strength of his arms around her. He put one hand on her head and held her against his chest.