Snarling in frustration, Easton plunged into the Veil. Going this way was easier in some senses and as difficult—if not more—in others. Instead of the wind driving him backward with every step, making him fight up a steep incline, the wind drove him forward, encouraging a quick and reckless descent that put him at risk for sprained ankles or a broken leg. Not rushing dangerously along the fixed line took all the willpower Easton had.

Yelling her name was pointless, and trying to see her was as pointless. Searching along the line for her, hoping against hope she was sitting in the snow taking a break, Easton moved as fast as he could safely climb.

His carabiner caught on the line, which was strange, but he pulled free, pressing on. He only saw Bree when he was almost on top of her. Bree’s steps had slowed as she struggled to get herself through the same winds pushing against Easton’s shoulders.

“River,” he yelled in her ear so she could hear him. “Have you seen her?” All he got in return was a confused look and shake of Bree’s head. Ben had been staying close to Bree, less than the full section of rope that he should have stayed. It didn’t fail to reach Easton’s attention there were three of them clipped to the same section of the line.

“What’s going on?” Ben asked, fighting to be heard over the screaming of the Veil.

“River’s unclipped. I couldn’t find her tether.”

Easton didn’t have to hear the curse that escaped Ben’s lips: the expression on the other guide’s face showed it all.

“Get Bree out of here,” Easton barked at the other mountaineer.

River’s carabiner must have broken, or she had the terrible misfortune of slipping when unclipping from one section of the line and reclipping to the next. He didn’t understand how that could even happen, with the double safety clip system they’d been using.

The path Easton had set was intended for his entirely right-handed clients to climb with their right hands on the rope to guide them. Only Ben was left-handed, but he would know to stay to the left. River wouldn’t cross the line.

He’d checked the carabiners though. He’d checked every single one because he knew how dangerous this part was. Working his way back, searching for any sign of River, something caused the carabiner he’d clipped to the line to catch. It was a little catch, then the carabiner pulled free. Easton wouldn’t have noticed it, except…that was twice.

At the same spot.

There was something on his line.

Feeling around the carabiner, Easton found something that shouldn’t have been there. Someone had tied something to his line, a place marker.

“Smart girl,” he breathed. “I don’t know what you’re doing but thank you.”