Estelle eyed the forbidding jumble of ice sloping away to her left. Going with the flow would not be a good idea.
Thirty steps, forty. The two human sled dogs were gasping for breath.
“Stop!” Estelle eyed a slick patch of blue ice. Four yards wide, the ice had an inch of water flowing over it down a gentle slope.
“A creek on a glacier?” Sera asked.
“Good drinking water,” Annie said from her suitcase-toboggan.
Estelle had doubts about the water’s purity—ancient caribou had probably peed on that glacier—but at least they wouldn’t die of thirst.
The running water’s shiny surface looked as slick as a mirror. It would take a dozen careful, mincing steps to cross it. A set of crampons would be real helpful, right about now.
“I’ll go first,” Estelle said. “Once I get across the slippery bit, Sera can use the rope to steady herself as she crosses. Then we’ll both pull Annie over.”
Cautiously, Estelle stepped into the stream, Sera feeding the rope out as she crossed the blue ice. One step, then another.
Her left foot slipped, just an inch. Estelle wobbled, trying to keep her balance. There! Yes, steady—but her feet slipped out from under her.
Bang! Estelle’s hip slammed down and she was sliding down the icy slope.
“Ah!” The rope wrapped around Estelle’s wrist jerked taut, halting her slide but nearly pulling her arm out of its socket. Flat on the ice, freezing water ran down her sleeve, drenching her in moments. She craned to look back. “Sera!”
For a split second, Sera held on, bracing against the pull of Estelle’s weight. Then, with a shout, Sera fell sprawling and Estelle was skidding away. Sera and Annie slid down the hill after her, their screams piercing the air.
The slope steepened as Estelle clawed and scrambled for purchase on the wet, glassy surface. She tumbled down a frozen waterfall, icy meltwater spilling over her. Her hands, knees, and chin scraped over ice chunks.
Estelle hit gravel and came to rest, washed up on a shoal like a beached whale, twenty feet below where she’d started. Sera whooshed past before Estelle could turn.
Bam! The suitcase-toboggan slammed into her. Estelle flung out her arms to grasp Annie before she could tumble farther down the slope. The suitcases slipped past, the box overturning and spewing out protein bars and bottles of water.
Annie whimpered in Estelle’s arms.
Or did she? Estelle eyed her suspiciously. “Are you laughing?”
“I feel so silly. I hope you’re not hurt, dear.”
Estelle steadied the two of them on the gravel shoal. “Sera?”
“I’m all right,” she called from a dozen yards below. “Wet, though.”
They all were wet, soaked in the frigid meltwater. That was bad, very bad.
At least they were closer to the grassy field.
“Sera, we need the clothes and supplies.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Sera said. “You take care of Annie. And remind me never to go on a waterslide again.”
Annie clung to Estelle. “I’m sorry I’m so helpless, dear.”
“You’re not helpless,” Estelle said. “Neither am I. But we’re not going to try to walk on this popsicle. We’re going to scoot.”
They scooted on their backsides a few feet, then crawled, then rolled a bit. It took time, but eventually they came to the moraine, a ten-foot-high bank of dirt and gravel left by the glacier’s retreat at the end of the last ice age.
Annie panted, gazing at the rise. “Perhaps I’d better stay here.”
“Nonsense. I’ll think of something.” But they were both shivering, and Estelle’s mind was a blank.
“Steps,” Estelle said. “If I dig some steps, we can go up little by little.” But with every scoop that Estelle clawed out of the bank, the dirt and gravel filled right back in.
Sera appeared on the slope above them. “Hang on, I have an idea.”
She unzipped her roller bag and dumped out the contents. “Sit in this like a chair. We’ll attach the ropes and pull you up.”
Annie raised a gray eyebrow. “Worth a try.”
With Estelle’s help, Annie nestled her butt in the suitcase. Estelle slung the rope around the bottom of the bag and tied half hitches around the extended handle shafts. Then she scrambled to the top of the slope to grab one end of the rope.
“Ready? Pull!”
Estelle and Sera walked backward, dragging the suitcase throne up the bank. Annie pushed with her feet to keep from tipping over.
At the top, Annie lay on her back like an overturned turtle.
“We did it!” Sera grinned.
“Praise Jesus,” Annie said faintly, teeth chattering.
Estelle crossed herself and added an amen, but she wasn’t ready to sing praises yet. Her goal had been to keep warm. Instead, they were all soaked in ice melt and shaking with cold. The breeze had coated them with sticky ash, and there was no glimpse of a warming sun behind the gray cloud cover.
“Everyone into dry clothes,” she said. “Whatever we have.”
God, send help soon. Wasn’t it Saint Agatha who stopped a volcano’s eruption? Estelle promised her a dozen candles if she’d intercede and help them get off this mountain.
Luis glanced at the tablet again. Ruby had set a good pace—by ten in the morning, after four hours of walking, they’d traveled eight miles into trackless wilderness. He’d left Opal unharnessed in light of her advanced state of pregnancy, and Pearl in light of Diamond’s continuing urge to mount her. The boys, Diamond and Turq, were traveling parallel—he’d glimpsed them through the trees.
Luis was desperate to get clear of the ash field so the mammoths could eat, drink, and rest, but now Opal was lagging behind.
The next stream they came to, Ruby made the decision for him. The water was cloudy with ash, but she
