The ride had become much rougher, and although he couldn’t see anything, Diego knew they had left the plains, because the dogs were tugging the sleds up and down little hills and, finally, up a long, long pull.
He heard Siggy yell something, and then he heard Dad cry out and the woman in front, Brit, whistle and call “Whoa, you mutts! Whoa! Oh, shit!” and multiple sounds of slipping, cracking, and sliding, but by that time the dogs had reached the summit and were plummeting down, too.
A man screamed, and several heavy things rolled and tumbled just as the sled was suddenly airborne, and Diego felt himself flying more surely than he had ever flown in the spacecraft he had lived in since he was a baby.
Lavelle called, “Whoa, Dinah! Back girl!” and Diego felt her hand pull on his ruff. For a moment she had him; then the sled jarred again and she fell and his hood was free, and he was falling from the sled, rolling, tumbling, into the snow, over and over, until his feet struck something soft at the same time his head struck something hard, and there was darkness.