Once we were ready, Travis held up his index finger and circled it in the air. We all nodded. We knew what to do.

Travis led the way. As the greenie, I was directly behind him carrying the first-aid equipment. Tim and Tam followed behind with the stretchers, while Isla took up the rear. It was slow going. Even with our state-of-the-art gear, there was only so fast we could move when we were laden with stuff and walking on an uphill ice-skating rink. For a long time all that could be heard were our combined breaths and the crunch of snow beneath our feet. I was as fit as anyone and I was already sweating under my layers of clothing. I kept my head down. With visibility almost at zero, there was no point in looking at anything other than my feet. That was why I spotted the tracks.

I reached out and tapped Travis on the shoulder, causing him to halt. He turned, followed my finger and glanced down. The falling snow would cover them within minutes but there was no mistaking what was there. I had never seen signs of animal life this far up the mountain; at this time of year any beast smart enough to survive was much further down the slopes. From what I could tell, this brave creature had three legs ‒ something else which didn’t make sense.

Travis frowned, crouched down and lightly touched them. They weren’t large: each paw print was less than an inch in diameter. At least that was something: if a mountain beast was watching us from behind a snow-covered rock, it would be unlikely to attack five people who were a hundred times its size.

‘What are the tracks from?’ I asked.

Tim peered over my shoulder. ‘Bird?’

‘With three legs?’

He shrugged. ‘Maybe its tail is broken and it’s dangling down in the snow as it walks.’

We shared a glance. It was a nice theory but it was clearly wrong. This was no bird – but at least I was sure it wasn’t a damned giant spider either.

Travis straightened. ‘Whatever it is, we don’t have time to worry about it.’

There was the sudden, unmistakable sound of a flare being set off further up. It rocketed into the dark sky, a plume of red shooting a path of pain.

‘Well,’ Tim murmured, ‘one of them is still alive.’

We picked up our pace. Travis began jogging and the rest of us fell into line after him. As we rounded the last craggy outcrop, Aladdin’s Mirror loomed in front of us. With the sky as dark as it was, it was difficult to see much of it but we weren’t here for sightseeing ‒ the whimper from the foot of the Mirror confirmed that.

Travis strode forward. He was almost as sure-footed as a fey Sidhe. He reached a shadowy lump just ahead of us and dropped to his knees. ‘My name is Travis,’ he said calmly, in a manner designed to put injured climbers at ease. ‘Are you Maggie?’