The boys were gathered at the main table. Brennen stood at the front with a long, hand-drawn map pinned between two bowls, one foot resting on a metal stool like a general about to send soldiers into the field. His voice was low and sure, slicing through the tension like a blade.

“Elevation gain in two stages. First, across the ravine trails toward the base of the southern teeth. Then a two-day ascent to the ridge trail behind the reservation.” He tapped the map where the ink was smudged. “This here’s the pass under Tooth’s Shadow. Used to be a decent ridge trail, but the last storm dumped a couple feet of wet snow. That melted quick. We’ve got ice fall risk along the edge now. Ledges are brittle—step wrong, and you’re going down a hundred feet into jagged rock. If you hear cracking, drop and flatten out. Disperse your weight.”

He moved his hand east, to a narrow trail with deep crosshatching. “Next: these switchbacks along Blackridge Hollow. Loose shale under packed snow. Looks solid, isn’t. You’ll slide if you’re heavy-footed. Take it slow, crouched, three points of contact. And if you hear what sounds like gravel pouring down the slope? Move. That’s a mini-slide.”

Then he pointed to a crooked line that cut through a lower valley. “You’ll want to follow the frost pine glade down here for shelter—don’t. Looks inviting, but what you’re walking on is just a snow crust over a hollowed ground. It’ll collapse under you, and if someone breaks through and twists an ankle, the rest of the trip becomes a rescue.” He looks at everyone around the table. “This might already end up in a large scale rescue mission, so be careful on your way there.”

He straightened, then looked at Mama and Micah, gauging their reactions before continuing. “Now, the weather. It’s early summer, so snow shouldn’t be too much of an issue, but there could still be a little bit, especially in the shadows. This time of year we’ve got storm sweeps from the northwest. They drop in sudden. First it’ll be cloud buildup over the peaks—then wind shifts. You’ll feel it in your ears before you see it. After that? Whiteout, hail, graupel, lightning. Visibility goes to hell. If that hits, tie off with line, mark a tree, hunker. Moving blind gets people killed.”

He lifted a piece of worn fabric from his bag—a shredded scarf, the edge crusted with old blood. “Last team that ignored the warning signs. We found them scattered. I’m not really happy about sending more people.” He closes his eyes, moves his glasses up and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Luckily, I know you guys are smart and trained, for the most part,” he looks at me and Jasper. “I trust you guys over some of the others that have gone and reported to us. Not everyone was from the Borough, but it still sucks losing people.”

Then he set the cloth down. “Oh, and river crossings—frozen or not—test everything. You fall in, you’ve got two minutes before frostbite sets in. Five before your legs stop working. No more than ten before you’re a deadweight.”

He crossed his arms. “There’s no warm tents waiting for you out there. No roads. No mercy from the wild. So if you get cocky or sloppy, you better hope the rest of your team is better than you.”

He let the silence sink in, eyes moving from face to face. “That’s the walk. If you’re not scared, you’re not taking it very seriously.”

I shifted in my seat, scribbling furiously. My hand cramped, but I didn’t dare stop. I need to be as prepared as I can be for what is coming.

“There’ll be rogue scouts watching the valley trail,” Brennen went on. “They don’t fight clean. Expect bone traps, snares, misdirection signs. Micah, you’ll need to stay two steps ahead.” He pulls Samara’s maps and notes back over. Pointing to some areas that she had marked. “This map is a little more neat and updated than mine, she does a great job at updating all of my information. She said there’s not a ton of snow currently, but up there, there’s no telling in that elevation what might happen.”

Micah nodded without looking up, already sharpening a short blade with the rhythmic rasp of stone and steel. Mama was beside me, arms crossed, listening with the kind of stillness that meant her mind was moving fast. She was already building plans—and backups.

After staring at the map awhile, Mama and Micah brought over the gear. We gathered around as they dumped it all down with a heavy thud. Dust puffed up around our boots.I’ve never seen this much gear all together before. The entire hold is filled with it. Jamie doesn’t let us in the armory very often. I bet some of this was at Micah’s place too.

Micah spread out a thick wool blanket. “Welcome to the second crash course in ‘Don’t Die Horribly in the Mountains.’” He looked at Brennen. “Thanks for crash course one.”

He flipped open a leather pouch and dumped out metal clips, cord, and tools. “Let’s make sure we all know what’s what.” He looks over at me, “We haven’t covered this, so pay attention.” I nod to show I’m ready to learn.

Jasper poked at a bundle of webbing. “Is this… a harness or something you strangle a bear with?”

“That,” Mama said, “is your climbing sling. You’ll thank us if we hit an ice shelf.”

“Or if you fall in a crevasse,” Micah added cheerfully. “It’s the gift that saves your spine.”

“I’d prefer not to fall into anything,” Jasper muttered.

We unpacked gear, each item becoming a lesson. Mama showed us how to layer, check boots, mark emergency pouches. Micah drilled us on packing tight, silent. “If your pack squeaks, I will throw it off a cliff.”

Jasper fidgeted with a solar blanket. “This looks like it should be on a satellite.”

“Reflective,” Micah explained. “Wrap yourself like a burrito. Just don’t expect it to taste like one.”