The boy rebelled against this idea, but as he stopped, he felt his own arms and legs grow heavy.
“Maybe just for a minute,” he said. Looking around, he saw a yawning gap in the rocks. “An ice cave,” he breathed as Hanna joined him, holding onto the sharp rocks tightly.
“Let’s rest there.” She stumbled in. Jannick followed fearfully, expecting the gulf to swallow them both. But only a square dirt patch lay in the space between the rocks, and he crouched next to Hanna. She leaned against him in the cup of stone, safe from the howling wind. Shivering, he put the hood of his wool jacket over his eyes, and was instantly asleep.
When Jannick woke, he found himself looking at a sky on the edge of gray, nearly blue. He panicked, sitting up and poking Hanna.
“We slept too long!”
Hanna rubbed the sleep from her eyes. “What?”
Jannick shakily stood up, finding his legs sore and weak. He was terribly hungry.
“We have to go home,” he said uncertainly.
Hanna tried to stand, pushing against the cliff. “Let’s see where we are.”
They clambered onto the rock above them, and saw that the wind had blown the clouds away. They could not see their village, hidden by the boggy plateau. But the long point of their own island, and one, two, three more islands spread out, green and gray on the dark blue summer of the North Atlantic.
“Wow!” Jannick exclaimed. “Look, there are ships out there.” But this made him think of his father, and remember his mother, dying down below.
“Look, we’re almost at the top.” Hanna was looking the other way, and the boy turned and saw that their resting place