The rumbling settled and the snow, rock and debris stopped falling, Nate opened his eyes, he was on his back and looking up but saw nothing of the path, either swallowed by the clouds or demolished by the grenades. He couldn't tell but either way he was far below where he needed to be. Looking around he saw he was in a narrow channel, sheer cliffs on either side, unclimbable, even for him. Behind him the way was blocked by snow and chunks of broken rock, the only way was forward.

Groaning, he pulled himself free of the snow, his body aching but nothing broken it seemed. His head throbbed and he wondered if he knocked it. The last thing he remembered was the grenade launcher, the ground crumbling all around them, trying to make for safe ground and reaching for Mia's hand...

Mia! She was up there on her own, Khanoğlu's men not far behind. He had to find her. But how? She had the map. She would be better off than he was. His pack was somewhere up there, and he was already shivering from the cold despite his thermals and well insulated clothing. He had his diary and the Mongol coin but that wasn't going to keep him warm.

"Crap" he muttered and trudged ahead, legs ploughing through the deep snow.

The sun rose up, reached its peak and began to lower as Nate continued moving forward, he was lost. No idea where to go but straight, it was his only option. High ground seemed like a good idea but the walls on either side of him were so sheer it was impossible to climb up. He would have to keep on going forward until he saw an opportunity to get to higher ground.

"Better find some shelter soon." he said aloud, trying to keep his mind on the goal and break the silence. "Start a fire. Hunt deer with a stick sharpened with rocks. Easy."

He continued on, arms hugging himself, trying to keep warm though his fingers were shivering uncontrollably. He felt the snot in his nostrils freeze, sticking every time he inhaled. He was glad it wasn't snowing, sure that would have been the end of him then and there. His head was down, his mind was on other things, hot cocoa, warm bed and when he next looked up it was as if a switch had been flipped, going from morning to night, the sun almost disappearing behind the mountains.

"What the?" he mumbled, shivering. He took a step and found nothing but empty space. He cried out and tumbled over the side, falling a couple of metres and landing in a pile of snow.

"Shit" he groaned, rolling in the snow. "I'm gonna die out here."

He rolled backwards until it was against the wall, "No. Gotta keep going" he muttered, sitting against the wall, knees drawn up. "Gotta find Mia and Sully and...and the Jewels."

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, "Maybe just...just rest my...eyes for a little...bit.

A sharp jab to the ribs woke him, he grunted and rolled over opening his eyes and was immediately blinded by a bright light.

"Arhk" he cried out weakly, throwing an arm over his eyes. He was jabbed again, in the ribs and stomach this time.

"Stop it!" he grunted. He rubbed his eyes and they slowly began to focus on the light in front of him. It wasn't a torchlight, it was firelight. The red and orange flames danced on a short stick held by a man, a second fire carrying person, this one a woman, stood beside him.

The man said something in a language Nate didn't understand.

"What?" Nate said dumbly, still surprised there were people in front of him. Unless they weren't. Could you have a mirage in the snow? Or was it strictly a desert thing? He was thirsty, probably dehydrated and probably hallucinating as well. It was possible.

It was night-time, the clouds had dispersed and the stars smeared the sky as if spread with a butter knife and the crescent moon provided some extra light.

Another sharp jab from the stick made him think perhaps these were real people.

"Ow" he cried out. "Stop poking me!"

The woman said something this time, and again Nate didn't understand, but she pointed with her stick somewhere behind her and Nate thought he understood.

"You want me to follow?" he said.

The man and the woman turned and walked away, Nate, reluctantly got to his feet, stretching his protesting muscles, and followed in their tracks making sure to keep within the pool of fire light. He was shivering again, his body tired and sore but he felt hopeful as he followed his guides.

In the light of the fire he got a good look at them, they were older than he, Sully's age at least, maybe even older. Lines creased their weathers faces, both had dark eyes and long black hair, skin the colour of coffee.

They each wore a fur lined coat made of some animal skin, yak maybe. And similar animal skinned pants with a woollen cap over their heads. Nate wondered if they were native to the area, local nomads or indigenous. They had to be, he decided, it's not as if this couple were taking a stroll through the mountains at 2000 meters in the middle of the night.

They set a rapid pace, surprising Nate considering their age and the depth of snow, and he struggled to keep up with them. The snow was waist deep now and they cut through it like it was shallow water, meanwhile Nate huffed and puffed forcing his way through.

He asked where they were taking him but they either didn't hear him, ignored him or didn't understand him and ignored him. He tried asking how far but the same lack of response. He stopped them by grabbing the man's shoulder and tried to explain his friend was up on the mountain, pointing in their direction, miming another person with him, but they just stared at him before continuing on.

He sighed and followed, hoping Mia was ok.

It was over an hour later when he saw the village. It was situated in a valley below and in the darkness he could see the glow of fires dotted around what looked to be yurts and shelters built into recesses in the rock face. He couldn't tell how many homes there were or any discerning features about them aside from what he saw in the dim light.

It was then he collapsed, a mixture of relief and exhaustion and hypothermia overcoming him and in what felt like the blink of an eye he was suddenly lying in a bed, daylight streaming through a small, square window. He was covered in thick, woollen blankets that smelled of sheep. Beside him was a small square table, a ceramic jug and cup sitting on it, along with his diary. He picked up the cup, found it filled with water and, realising how parched he was, took a drink. The water was icy cold but fresh and gulped it down in one swallow. He filled up the cup and drank some more, then pulled the blankets off saw his jacket had been removed but he still wore his parka and pants. His body protested as he got out of the bed, aches and pains reminding him just how much he had been through in the last week. With cup in hand, he looked around the yurt. The walls were made of animal skin which covered the yurts wooden frame. The ground was covered in animal furs and aside from the bed and side table there was another long table, a wooden wardrobe carved with Buddhist symbols and a coat rack with coats hanging from them. In the middle of the room was a small circular hearth made of stones where a fire burned low, over it was a grill with a pot on top, steam pouring out of it.

Nate found his boots and put them on, then grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around himself. He exited the yurt through the only door and squinted in the bright sunlight.

After letting his eyes adjust, he looked around and let out a quiet cry of disbelief. What he saw in the darkness when he arrived was nothing compared to what this place was like in the daytime. He was in a large valley, the size of ten football fields at least, dotted with tall trees and surrounded in all directions by the snow-capped Altai Mountains. The valley was flat with plateaus at different heights giving it a jagged, offset look. In the immediate area were a group of yurts, about twenty with another fifteen built into the mountain side. Fencing made of thick tree branches and lashed together with rope separated the yurts from grazing land, the emerald green fields broken up into sections for different animals. He saw herds of horses, yaks, sheep, goats, cows all grazing in open fields. There were people working the fields, using makeshift tools to dig holes, trenches, cut wood and all other assorted tasks. Children ran around, laughing and playing. Some kicked balls, others played tag. Some saw Nate and they stopped to look at him then giggled and ran off. Women worked near the stream that ran through the middle of the village, gathering water or washing clothes. A middle-aged woman, carrying a basket walked past Nate, giving him a smile but said nothing.

Nate moved through the village, noting how organised it was. Fires burned in pits, safely barricaded by rounded stones the size of footballs, snow swept away from paths, water troughs for animals kept clean and away from the main areas, chickens roamed free but hen houses were safely penned up next to the yurts.

As he walked through, the villagers took little interest in him, focusing on their task at hand.

He tried speaking to some, but they just pointed him along the dirt path he was on with a smile and said nothing. He followed the path until he reached the end where there was a natural bench. Seeing nowhere else to go, he took a seat and waited, giving his body much needed rest.

After waiting ten minutes a middle-aged man approached him. He was tall with a round face, brown skin, dark eyes and long black hair tied back into a knot. He walked with confidence and had the body of a man who worked the fields all day, every day. He was carrying a dark blue overcoat. He handed it to Nate and said "Deel."

"What?" Nate said.

"Deel. Deel." the man replied, indicating the overcoat.

"It's called a deel?" Nate asked.

The man nodded enthusiastically, and Nate handed him the blanket and pulled on the deel, it hung off him like a coat on a rack.

"Ahh, it's a bit big," he said to the man.

The man laughed and grabbed the left flap and wrapped it over the right, across his body and secured it with clasps. He secured more clasps at the shoulder, armpit and neck and the garment fit more comfortably now.

"Thanks," Nate said.

The man pointed at himself, "Gansukh" he said.

Nate pointed to himself, "Nathan."

"Nath-han" Gansukh said with a grin.

"Close enough" Nate replied with a smile.

Gansukh smiled and nodded again and then indicated for Nate to follow. He led him along another route, past more yurts. Children ran up to him waving and Nate waved back causing them to giggle and run away. They finally arrived at a large pavilion where five people seated on cushions around a fire and talking amongst themselves. Two pots bubbled over the fire and four black dogs dozed in the sunlight filtering through gaps in the yurt.

Gansukh indicated a free cushion for Nate to sit on, he nodded his thanks and took a seat. Gansukh spoke to the others in Mongolian, ending with 'Nath-han' and they all nodded. They were elderly, maybe in their seventies but hard to tell with nomadic people considering the hard life they live. They each wore colourful clothing in a similar style to his deel. There were three men and two women, all with dark hair, dark eyes and round faces weathered with age.

They each pointed and said their names, the three men's names were Oktai, Chenghiz and Arban. And the women were named Enkhuuya and Sarnai.

Enkhuuya stood from her cushion and walked to the boiling pot, using a rag to pick it up by the handle, she poured the contents into a ceramic cup and then added milk. She picked up the cup and handed it to Nate.

"Suutei tsai" she said.

"Thanks" he said, cupping it in both hands and letting the warmth seep into his bones. He took a sip of the hot tea and found it a little salty but otherwise delicious and it warmed his body.

The others watched him but said nothing. Feeling like he was wasting precious time, Nate pulled his diary out of his pocket and flipped to a page, then he showed it to them, "Have you seen this man?" he asked, indicating a picture of Sully sleeping, mouth open with flies buzzing around it that he had drawn on the flight from Hawaii to the Netherlands. He mimed the action of looking at the picture and then circling around indicating the area.

The group looked at the picture and all nodded and Nate's heart leapt to his throat.

Oktai said "Ezemshsen"

"Do you know where he went?" he asked.

Oktai shrugged, and Nate didn't know if it meant they didn't know or didn't understand him. Trying to keep his patience, Nate again mimed the action of looking and then pointing to the picture of Sully.

"Ahh" they all said, and they all nodded, "tiim shüü."

"Can you take me-" he pointed to himself, "-to him" he said pointing to the picture.

"ügüi shüü" they all said, shaking their heads emphatically.

"What? Why not?" he asked.

"Ezemshsen"

"What does 'ezemshsen' mean?"

But they repeated the word and shook their heads. They actually looked scared of his request, but he didn't know why. Was Sully dead?

"Crap" he muttered. How could he explain it was urgent that he find his friend?

"What about a girl-" he pointed to himself and mimed long hair, but they shook their head., "-or groups of men?" This time he pointed to himself, then counted to ten on his fingers and mimed carrying a gun but there were more shakes of the heads.

Well that's good at least.

A breeze blew through the yurt, blowing open a flap and the sun filtered through it. A flash, like a reflection, caught his eye and Nate looked up and gasped. He got up from his cushion and walked over to a table set at the far wall behind the elders. They turned and watched him approach the gold tiara that was sitting on the table. It was buffed clean, the gold shining like its own sun, small red rubies and green emeralds dotted the band. He picked it up, it was heavy but in amazing condition, some of the ornamental carvings along the band had broken off, lost in time but he had no doubt he was holding one of the pieces of the lost Crown Jewels of England.

"Titem" said Sarnai.

Nate turned to look at her, "Where did you get this?"

"Muu gazar" Arban said.

The others nodded, repeating the words and conversing.

Muu gazar? What the heck did muu gazar mean?"

"I don't know what that means," he said exasperated.

Arban pointed to the tiara and then put his index fingers above his head, horns? and then downward from his mouth, fangs?

"A devil?"

He shook his head.

"Evil?"

Arban nodded emphatically, "Eveel" he said, repeating what Nate said. Then he began to walk around, shuffling like a zombie and the other four all started pointing at him and saying, "er khün" and then "ezemshsen."

"Ezemshsen?" Nate repeated. "What is ezemshsen?"

Arban stopped shuffling around and pointed at the picture of Sully, "Ezemshsen!" he said.

Nate just shrugged and Chenghiz, who Nate thought of as the leader, said, "Gansukh."

Gansukh, who had been waiting at the entrance, walked up to him and they spoke quietly, and then the voices were raised and Gansukh seemed to be arguing, shaking his head as if to say no.

In the end, Chenghiz said something in a sharp tone and Gansukh seemed to deflate, nodding his head, saying "tiim shüü." He indicated for Nate to follow and they left the pavilion, heading down another track. Along the way, Gansukh grabbed a long-handled axe that was embedded in a stump and secured it in a holster on his back.

He led Nate out of the village, between a narrow pass of rock and into the snow-covered terrain beyond.