“I’m slowing you down,” she told him on one of their many breaks.

“We’re fine,” he promised her. “Keep putting one foot in front of the other.”

Easton gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder and then turned, heading back down.

River never did see what caused Easton to fall. She just knew he was upright one moment, then on the ground the next.

When River had fallen in the Veil, the whole thing had happened faster than she could blink. But when Easton fell, taking her with him, everything went in slow motion. He yelled in warning before his weight and momentum snapped the line at her belt. She watched her boots come out from under her as she was knocked off her feet. Easton reaching for his ax, trying to slow their fall as, tied together, they slid down the mountain. Glimpsing her boots outlined against the summit, she realized she was falling headfirst.

A cry escaped her throat before she realized they’d slammed to a stop. The impact was so abrupt, it knocked the wind out of her. All River could do was lie there and gasp like a fish out of water, chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to get the thin mountain air to fill her lungs.

“That was exciting.” River rolled to her knees, making sure her crampons were dug tight into the ice. “When you decide to take a tumble, you do it with style, huh?”

He didn’t answer. Silent and unmoving, Easton lay there in the snow, facedown where he’d come to a stop.

“Easton?”

Scrambling to his side, River fought to roll him over. Unconscious, Easton was heavy and his body difficult to shift. Finally, she got him onto his back. A cut above his eye bled less than it should have for as deep as it was. She shook him, hard.

“Okay, big guy, this is not the time to go down. Easton, come on. Wake up.”

Easton groaned, stirring beneath her hands.

“Are you okay?” he demanded roughly, rolling over to try to get up to his knees. The fact that he promptly threw up was a bad sign.

River wrapped her arms around him, supporting him as he emptied his stomach.

“I’m fine,” she promised. “Try not to move. I think you hit your head.” Touching his forehead resulted in her pulling back gloved fingers stained with blood.

“Are you okay?” Easton repeated, voice slurring. He tried to push himself upright, reaching for her, but his eyes were unfocused. Hushing him, River ran her hands over Easton’s sides, looking for more injuries. When he asked her a third time if she was okay, she knew he was in trouble.

“I think you have a concussion.”