Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

forward, as if gazing out over the expanse of white. His hand squeezed hers. “As far as we can!”
    They pedaled, Annika watching the surface of the glacier coming nearer and nearer. When they were a few feet above it, she held up her hand. David stopped pedaling with her. They touched down a moment later with a soft thump .
    And they were all right. Not out of danger, but safer.
    Annika stepped out, sinking up to her shins in snow. A finelayer of ash whispered across the top. David shouldered their packs, shook his head when she reached for hers. He pushed his mask up. Grateful to finally see his face again, Annika followed suit.
    “Will Källa send someone back?”
    “She’ll probably come herself.”
    He nodded, then looked north. “We need to get off this glacier. There are no explosives under the ice here, but God knows what sort of reaction he’s set off. Keep your hood up and your mask on. The ash doesn’t look so bad now, but the particles are sharp as glass. You don’t want that in your eyes or in your lungs, especially since you don’t have nanoagents to clean them out.”
    No, she didn’t. She pulled the mask over her face again.
    He turned to examine the balloon. “Is there anything on this we can use?”
    “That pole.” Her voice echoed hollowly in her ears. “To feel through the snow ahead of us.”
    “Good. What about for snowshoes or a sled runner?”
    She crouched as best she could in his boots, studying the cart frame. Just light aluminum tubing. Nothing flat enough, nothing smooth enough, nothing long enough. Not anymore.
    “The altitude flaps,” she said, and he laughed a little, shaking his head.
    “I’ll break through the snow ahead of you, then. It’s not too deep, so it shouldn’t be too difficult.”
    But it was still slow going. The terrain roughened near the glacier’s edge, with sharp rocky protrusions, deceptively stable beneath the snow, threatening a bloody gash or worse if they tripped. Quakes rattled loose shelves of ice, shook Annika’s nerves into a shattered mess. They picked their way across the ice, backtracking when they came upon a crevasse. An hour passed, then two. Exhaustion began to settle in, and she had to stop herself from looking out over all the white, had to stop herself from thinking about theposition they were in, and focus on putting one foot ahead of the other, testing every single step.
    Finally they wound their way down a slope studded with jagged ice and boulders. David paused, slipped his arm around her when she stopped at his side.
    He pointed ahead. “We’ll hike up on that rise and stop for the night. I doubt we’re in danger of a flood here, but it’s best to take high ground. Ready?”
    She was. The snow deepened as they climbed. Though David plowed through ahead of her, breaking a trail, the heavy boots and the incline soon felt as if she wore cannonballs strapped to her legs. Her breathing was labored when he finally stopped, the inside of her mask humid with sweat.
    He set down the packs, drew her against him. Carefully, he slid back her mask, the cold air heaven against her cheeks.
    His concerned gaze searched her face. “You’re all right?”
    As long as she didn’t think. “Just…out of breath.”
    “Rest. If you watch for dogs, I’ll build the snow house.”
    She shook her head. “I’ll watch for dogs. But I’ll help. I’m too sweaty—if I stop now, I’ll get cold. I need to keep moving.”
    Without a shovel, though, there wasn’t much for her to do until he’d dug out the base and began cutting blocks out with his steel hand. She helped him stack the blocks in a ring a few feet in diameter. An hour’s hard work, though he seemed tireless. Her arms were aching with fatigue by the time she slowly lowered the last block into place from inside the domed house, then smoothed the interior with mittened hands.
    As he finished the entrance, she spread out the blankets and lit the small oil lamp. Quietly, she sorted through the packs, searching for the stores left over from when they’d fled Phatéon . Di Fiore’s men had gone through their things, but they’d have no reason to take potatoes or—
    Three pieces of flatbread were left. Annika stared at them, thensearched again. Nothing more. Despair and fear thickened her throat. She forced them away.
    Källa would come for them.
    She stuffed the food back into the packs. She couldn’t think of this now. Her mind felt dull. She’d seen too much today, done