“We’ll stay together,” Justine said firmly. “We will follow behind, tethered to each other, while you and Tristan carry Lord Rascomb.”
Karl nodded.
“We will return to the ridge and take it all the way back. The same traverse as this morning. Except we will pick up Luc at the camp and continue on to the church.”
“Onward,” Fräulein Bridewell said, her voice pitched higher than before, somehow questioning, not as sure as she’d been hours previous. Karl put everything out of his mind. This was his worst-case scenario. For he didn’t believe the viscount would live until they got to the church. He may have tied himself to an injured man, but he believed he would be putting down a dead one at Schwarzsee.
**
Justine put herself in the back of the line. Ophelia took the lead, as she should. She kept close to Tristan, no doubt able to see her father as the impromptu swing lurched with every uneven step of the snowy ridge.
Behind Ophelia was Eleanor, then Prudence, then Justine. There wasn’t anything Justine had ever experienced worse than this. The nighttime descent was terrifying. But Justine pushed that fear aside, just as she had earlier this morning. The snow was old and tamped from their morning footsteps, which her boots gripped better than the icy slicks of sun-damaged snow on the face. Still, the ridge couldn’t be much wider than her arm span, and that made her heart pound even faster. Worse, she could see them all in front of her, which only allowed her to worry about each of their steps more than she worried about her own.
What would even happen for Ophelia? For Tristan? Right now, it was clear that they needed to get back to Zermatt. Thethought of Frau and Herr Brunner comforted her. The inn, cozy, with the smells of roasting meat and beer and wine. It kept her steps more sure, her mind calmer.
It was dark enough that she could no longer see Karl ahead of her. The shapes of her friends obscured most of the view, but even so. The snow kept the path somewhat illuminated. It wasn’t pitch black, but far darker than what was safe. Yet all seemed well within their capabilities, and she was lulled into the familiar rhythm—slower than normal, but familiar all the same. One step in front of the other. Until it happened.
She heard the slip. Instinctively, she threw herself onto the ridge, clinging to a nearby jagged boulder for all she was worth. The cries of her friends were swallowed and muted by the wind. The rope around her waist yanked hard, pulling her off the ridge. She scrambled for purchase, and her boots dug into another boulder.
“Who is with me?” she cried, not daring to look up. But when she heard nothing but wind, she turned her head.
Ophelia struggled on the ledge of the ridge. Oh God. Ophelia was slipping under the weight of both Eleanor and Prudence, swinging down below.
“Karl!” Justine shouted. “Karl!” They needed help. They needed more strength, more bodies, otherwise the four of them would disappear down into the glacier below.
“Hang on,” Tristan called.
Justine couldn’t hear anything more as her mind clouded over with the hammering of her heart, her blood. When would they get help? She looked over to Ophelia, who had stopped struggling. She was still bent over the edge, but she had found footing, and she was braced. Ophelia looked at Justine, her expression not fearful, not shocked. Of course not. Ophelia was determined, her mouth set in a firm line that even in thisdarkness Justine could recognize. They were all surviving. That was what was happening, and Ophelia wouldn’t hear of any alternative.
No doubt Ophelia had found a braced position and was waiting it out until Karl and Tristan could help.
Then the weight of the rope at her waist loosened. Prudence must have found some purchase down on the wall of the ridgeline. Using her foot, Justine pulled the slack of the rope up and around another rock and held it there with the weight of her leg. It wasn’t much, but would hopefully provide more friction if Prudence fell again.
It felt like eternity until Karl reached her. Not saying anything, he took the slack she’d gathered and tied into it, bracing himself next to her. “I’ve got it.” His voice was low in the darkness, and she had never felt more relief in her life. But Justine was still there, still focused, still tied into her friends, a part of the tether that would save the lives of both Prudence and Eleanor as well as Ophelia and herself.
Careful not to disturb any debris, Justine turned around and peered over the edge, still on her belly. She could make out the figure of Prudence below, clinging to the rock. At least, she thought that was Prudence.
“Prudence? What’s happening?” Justine asked, hoping the wind and the darkness would carry her words to her friend. A swell of gratitude hit her when she heard her friend’s voice.
“Climbing,” Prudence said. “I’m hurt, but not badly. Eleanor is also climbing. She is worse off than I am.”
“Do you want us to try to haul you up?”
A sob came. “Yes. Yes please.”
Justine looked over to the hunched dark figures of Ophelia and Tristan. “Haul them both up?”
“Yes,” came Ophelia’s crystal-clear reply.
“On my mark,” Justine said, scrambling around the rock to reconfigure the rope. She sat next to Karl, seeing the fatigue in his face. “Can you?”
“Of course,” Karl said, his voice clear, not betraying any hint of exhaustion. They’d been climbing this mountain for well over fifteen hours in the cold. None of them had eaten, and all had performed feats of strength. What were a few more?
The rewards of civilization taunted her: roasted beef that fell apart in her mouth. Potatoes smothered in butter and cream. Soft bread smothered in dripping honey. Sharp, tangy cheddar cheese, the kind that crumbled on her tongue. Big hunks of—
“Ready,” came Ophelia’s voice.
“Mark. Pull!” Justine’s mind went utterly still with the exception of this task. “Pull.” They heaved the rope. Justine gathered the slack that pooled between her and Karl, tying off knots, in case his hands slipped. “Pull.” All four of them heaved again, and again she gathered slack. She could hear the scrambling of hands and feet. They were close. So close. One more. “Pull.”
