Page 5 of Mountain Summons

Yes. I’m sorry.

That time it took him longer to reply.

Thanks for telling me, Lena. I’m glad you’re okay.

She wished she’d had the courage to write back after that. She liked Tristan. She genuinely liked him. Their first eveningtogether, unexpected as it had been, had been the most fun she’d had in recent memory. But she’d been too embarrassed, and too much of a coward.

Thunder rumbled, sending a shiver down her spine. The storm was getting closer, and if she’d learned anything from her father, it was that the mountains weren’t a good place to be in the middle of a storm. That voice inside her spoke again and, suddenly, it was her mother’s voice, urging her to head back.

She wasn’t stupid enough to ignore that warning. There would be other days to find the chamois. It was time to head home.

Lena turned, retracing her steps slowly. Already, the path had become more treacherous. Every step sank into the mud, and the rain-slicked rocks beneath her well-worn hiking boots felt unsteady. She moved quickly, eyes scanning the trail ahead, eager now to off the mountain.

As she stepped onto the narrow path beneath the tree-line, a sudden crack of thunder split the air. She flinched, instinctively turning her head—and missed the loose rock beneath her boot. It rolled. Her balance tipped, and she windmilled her hands to hold her position.

The rumble came again, deeper this time, vibrating through the very ground.

And then—the world shifted as the trail gave way beneath her.

Asickening lurch, the sudden weightlessness of losing her footing, and then she was falling—arms flailing, breath catching in her throat as she tumbled forward.

Lena’s instincts took over. She curled in on herself, arms wrapped tightly around her camera, her fingers gripping the strap like a lifeline, even as she realized how ridiculous she was being. A fat load of good her camera would do to her if she broke her neck. She raised one arm to protect her face instead.

The world spun in a blur of gray sky and wet, rushing earth as gravity took over. Her body slammed into the ground, jolting with each impact as she slid down the slope, loose rocks and sodden mud cascading around her.

Pain lanced through her shoulder as she struck something solid. All breath left her lungs. The shock of it sent her rolling again, helpless against gravity, the force of the slide dragging her down, down—until, suddenly, there was nothing beneath her at all.

She dropped.

For a split second, she was weightless.

Then—a hard impact. Her side slammed onto an uneven surface, her head snapping back against the damp stone. The shock of it radiated through her bones, stunning her. The camera, still clutched against her chest, dug into her ribs, and for a moment, all she could do was lie there, gasping, marveling that she was still alive.

Rain drummed against her face, cold and insistent. A deep ache bloomed in her limbs, her nerves waking to pain—her shoulder throbbed, her back felt bruised from the fall, but by far the worst pain was in her left ankle.

She tried to move.

The pain multiplied by ten, hot, searing agony that shot through her foot and all the way up her leg. She sucked in a breath, her vision going dark at the edges. Shit. She bit down on her lip, forcing herself to stay still, breathing through the pain.

When she was able to, she opened her eyes again. High up, she could see the ledge she’d been standing on—or whatwas left of it—and beyond that, the trees. A raw, muddy scar marked where the trail had collapsed, earth still crumbling in the downpour.

This isn’t good.

There was no way she was getting back up there, but she had to at least move out of the way, lest some of the looming jagged rocks fall on her head.

The sound of rushing water echoed nearby—the river, somewhere below.Too close. Too loud. Not good at all.

Her stomach clenched as she realized her predicament. She was trapped here, off-trail, down a slope, and no one knew where she was.

The thought sent a wave of cold through her that had nothing to do with the rain.

She reached for her jacket pocket with shaky fingers, praying that her phone had survived the fall. She always carried it in an inner pocket, close to her body, as her father had taught her.

Her heart pounded as she pressed the button. Hope flared inside her as the screen came to life … then plummeted when she saw the small icons on the top right. No cell reception.

She exhaled, hard. Dammit. She’d left her father a note, telling him she was going out to find the family of chamois, but hadn’t told him exactly where she was going. Idiot. Rule number one out in the mountains was never go out alone. The other number one rule was, if you had to go out alone, you made sure someone knew exactly where you were going, and you checked in periodically.

A hysterical laugh bubbled out of her.

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