Iron Seas 03 - Riveted

too much, and she was worn down from exhaustion.
    Tomorrow would be brighter. She’d be able to see the way forward better.
    David stuck his head through the entrance, met her eyes. Her heart gave a crazy leap of hope. They were still together. And they would be all right.
    He unbuckled his coat. “It’s already warmer in here.”
    “A little,” she said. “But it’ll warm up a lot more with both of us.”
    His smile started, then froze as a quake gently shook the ground. Silent, they braced their hands against the blocks. A few small clumps of snow fell, a few crystals drifted down.
    “Nicely built,” she said when it stopped. “Did they teach you this in your survival course?”
    “Yes.”
    He grinned, crawled the rest of the way in. It was a tight fit. They’d have to sleep around each other. With his coat beneath them, providing another layer of protection from the freezing ground, and her coat over them, they’d remain more than warm enough.
    She waited until he removed his coat, then curled up into a ball. David settled in behind, wrapping his arms around her, tucking his knees against hers. Despite her exhaustion, she wasn’t ready to sleep yet. She listened to his breaths, soaked up the warmth of his body.
    His breath stilled when a growl grumbled through her stomach. She slid her fingers through his.
    “There are a lot of dogs,” she reminded him, and felt his tension ease.
    He pressed a kiss to the side of her neck. “It may come to that,unfortunately. Källa might have to wait before the eruption stops before she can come for us. It could be a few days.”
    Or more. She’d heard of eruptions in this region that lasted for weeks. But even if it did, they’d be all right. They were warm. They had food.
    “I also have bread in my pack from Phatéon .”
    “Brown?”
    “No. It’s frozen, though, so at least it will have a better texture.” She smiled when his laugh rumbled against her back. “We’ll keep it for tomorrow.”
    “Tomorrow, yes.” His voice was slightly rough. “Until then, we’ll rest.”
    Annika closed her eyes, willed sleep to come.
    And tried not to think.
    David’s feet were cold. He couldn’t remember the last time they had been. In the boots, he usually didn’t notice temperature at all. Now he was toasty beneath Annika’s coat, except for his feet, which touched the snow wall. Though the cold didn’t hurt, the impulse to bring his legs up beneath their cover and warm his toes against her skin was just the same.
    Annika probably wouldn’t enjoy waking up that way.
    If she wasn’t already awake. He listened to her quiet breathing. Too shallow for sleep—as if she were trying not to make any noise and was carefully holding herself still. Probably trying not to think of where they were. Probably feeling the same dread that David did.
    She knew this island. She had to know what a dangerous position they were in, though they’d both glossed over it the previous night. Källa might very well come for them and find the balloon they’d left on the glacier, but she couldn’t know where they’d headed afterward. Nor would they be easy to spot if she did continue north,especially as they’d taken shelter in a snow house. Though he’d go outside as often as possible, David couldn’t stand in the cold indefinitely, hoping to see her in the sky—and Annika should stay inside, conserving her warmth and energy. With nanoagents, David could get by longer on little food, was more resistant to the freezing temperatures.
    If they stayed, Källa might not be able to find them. But they could also try to walk back to Vik. David didn’t like that option any better. The glacier wasn’t large—only twenty miles across—but they’d have to go around it, through the pass, where the rivers would likely be swollen with meltwater, and they’d be in the path of any floods sweeping across the valley floor. Thirty miles through the snow, just to walk clear of the glacier—and then thirty more miles to Vik, across the floodplains…and on three pieces of bread.
    That bread wouldn’t last any longer here, though. Whatever route they chose, they’d have to forage or hunt—and under the ash and snow, the dogs would likely be their only prey.
    The dogs would be looking at them in the same way.
    With a soft sigh, Annika snuggled back against him. She must have realized that he’d woken. “Just a few minutes more.”
    He had to laugh. “As long as you like. What are you