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The woman’s eyes widened, but she inched over to Uncle Dinhal.

Iryana offered her uncle and cousin a sympathetic smile, frustration eating away at her, and then she moved back to her high rock. She didn’t have time to argue with everyone.

“Listen up, everyone!” she shouted. “I don’t care if you don’t like your party. I care if your party is able to get all of you to the caves safely. If you would rather die, be my guest.” Iryana gestured with her arm to the start of the crevasse field. “But you are leaving all your supplies with people who have a better chance of living.”

No one stepped forward.

“Good! If your group is tied up and ready, you can head out.”

She made sure Vabihn was settled, his youngest daughter strapped carefully to his chest while his wife was tied in front of him and Galehna behind him. Pyetar was tied in front of Soyara; Iryana had suggested Pyetar join that group, knowing he could take turns carrying Soyara with Vabihn if needed.

“We’re going to be alright,” Pyetar assured her.

“Don’t forget the medicine Hadima gave you,” Iryana reminded Soyara for the third time that morning.

She couldn’t imagine giving birth and having to make a difficult hike so soon, but they didn’t have a choice.

After she finished checking on everyone, she returned to her own group. Many had already set out.

Iryana had paired herself with both her sisters and a couple from the brigade, one of whom was in bad shape. Hadima had requested earlier to be with him when Iryana had asked about the needs of the various injured. The soldiers weren’t happy about being with three guardians, but Iryana didn’t care. They at least saw the benefit of being with a healer. Hadima wanted to keep an eye on the severe wounds along the man’s shoulder and left arm.

The healthy soldier, a blonde woman named Edishta who had grown up in these mountains, led their party. Hadima followed behind her, then the injured soldier, then Iryana, and finally Misha.

When it was their turn to enter the field, Iryana paused with them as they faced it. The steep glacier stretched before them, tons of deep, narrow cracks lacerating its surface. The flat snow was just as dangerous, likely to hide the narrowest cracks that could open up with a little weight.

She hoped the staff of raw earth magic would help stabilize the ice, keeping the thinner parts from breaking under their feet. Just as that thought crossed her mind, she saw the back of a group slip into a crevasse, two people suddenly just not there anymore, but the others managed to pull them out quickly.

She swallowed as the injured soldier in front of her cursed colorfully.

“Let’s go,” Iryana ordered her group.

The first stretch of the journey wasn’t too eventful. Hadima chatted happily, a nervous habit Iryana knew, but at least it provided something to focus on other than the sounds of ice cracking and shouts of falling Istrins from other groups. Misha was quiet, though, more so than usual. She insisted she was fine, but Iryana could tell her little sister was nervous.

There was little to block the wind blowing across the field; it ripped at them and their clothes, blowing up the snow so it was hard to see too far ahead. They kept the rope taut in case anyone slipped, and Edishta had a long stick to probe the ground ahead.

A few times Iryana saw dakii discover them crossing the field and watched them race out, only to fall into the crevasses before they reached anyone.

Edishta jabbed at the ground with her stick, stepping back as the snow collapsed, revealing a deep crevasse, the ice dark and blue at its depths. Iryana swallowed. It was about two feet across, and Edishta seemed to be considering crossing, jabbing the opposite side to make sure it was stable.

“We cross here!” Edishta called.

They spread out as much as they could, Hadima bracing herself on their side of the crack before Edishta jumped to the other side. She skidded slightly on the snow but kept her footing. One by one, they braced on each side of the crack as they crossed perpendicularly to limit swinging if they fell. When it was Misha’s turn, Iryana squared herself and held out an arm for Misha to cling to once she crossed. Misha’s hazel eyes were tense, refusing to look down as she crossed. She clung to Iryana’s arm as she landed beside her.

And then they were moving again, going as far as they safely could before Edishta had them crossing more cracks.

It was a nerve-wracking process, and Iryana was sweating in her coat. There was nothing to be done for it, though.

They were crossing another crevasse, the injured soldier about to step over, when the earth shuddered violently. The man slipped, his weight immediately pulling against Iryana’s waist. She leaned back, trying not to be pulled in, and could see Hadima doing the same on the other side. Edishta was telling him to climb out, but he struggled to lift his injured arm up to get enough leverage on the edge of the crack.

“Misha, can you help pull him up? I’ve got him anchored.”

Her sister didn’t move, and when Iryana looked back, she saw Misha was staring in horror at the man partially dangling in the crevasse.

“Misha!” Iryana hissed.

Her sister’s eyes flew to Iryana, which seemed to snap her out of it. Misha reached for the soldier, letting the tension between her and Iryana drop, groaning as she pulled him out.

Iryana grunted, pulling on the rope with her hands too.