Chapter Six

CHAPTER SIX

March 2018, Pokhara, Nepal

“You look miserable.”

From her cocoon of blankets, Sophie peered up at Levi’s smiling face. She couldn’t match his expression. “I hate to break it to you,” she said, “but I think I caught a cold.”

His smile fell. “You don’t sound so good.” He set aside a small paper bag and felt her forehead. “You feel warm. But you’re also under three blankets.”

“I’ll survive.” She sniffled, throwing off the top layer of blanket and sitting up. Traveling always did her in—she tended to get sick as soon as she got on an airplane. The trips to the Himalayas were always particularly grueling—they had flown from Geneva to Istanbul and then on to Kathmandu, before catching a bumpy flight to the tiny Pokhara airport. Sophie had crashed hard at the hotel when they arrived midafternoon, and spent most of the day sleeping, rousing only for a quick dinner of dumplings and rice before falling into another dreamless sleep. Levi, on the other hand, seemed to have boundless energy. She had never traveled long-distance with him before and was impressed by his high spirits.

“Maybe this will help.” He handed the slightly greasy paper bag to her. Sophie opened the bag and a buttery, sugary scent rose to greet her. Inside were gwaramari, little round pieces of fried dough, and jeri, intricate fried disks coated in syrup.

“You’re the best,” Sophie said, taking a bite of jeri.

“I’ll get us something more substantial in a little while.” He paused and wolfed down a piece before continuing. “Everyone else got in yesterday. Penelope, George, Ruslan, and Ivan. I talked to them last night. The plan is to meet with the porter agency today and get everything sorted out for tomorrow. Maybe a day trek. Get a good view of Annapurna.”

“And then you’ll decide that you want to try Annapurna instead.”

He smiled again. “Maybe one day.” They both glanced toward the door at the sound of a knock. “Are you expecting someone?”

Sophie shook her head but gestured for him to answer. Levi opened the door to reveal Penelope and George. Penelope was slender and elegant, dressed in beige and cream, her light brown hair pulled back into a smooth ponytail. George looked fit and healthy as ever in his down jacket and hiking boots, a hint of stubble on his cheeks.

“My apologies,” he said, glancing at Sophie. “We didn’t mean to disturb you.”

She waved a hand, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. “I’m alright. Just jet-lagged.” She wore pajamas and hadn’t yet glanced in a mirror; she knew she must look disheveled compared to Penelope’s polished appearance.

“Is everything okay?” Levi asked.

“It is,” George said, turning back to Levi. “Ruslan and Ivan took off to Phedi for a hike. I’m a bit worried that those two might have their own agenda for this trip. But,” he continued, glancing sideways at Penelope, “we wanted to stick together as much as possible.”

“Yes,” Penelope said, nodding. “We have a responsibility to look out for each other, oui ?”

Levi glanced at Sophie, checking in with her. She nodded. “Yeah, of course. I can be ready in just a few minutes. I would love to see more of the area.”

“Great. We’ll be in the lobby. We’re expected at the agency around 3:30, so we have plenty of time. Ruslan and Ivan know the time. We’ll see if they turn up.”

Levi shut the door after they left. “George doesn’t seem to have much faith in the Russians.”

“Maybe just two particular Russians.” She stood up and began rummaging through her luggage, looking for clothes appropriate for a day hike. “George invited them for a reason, right?”

“Yeah, probably that they’re fearless. George has the experience, you, me, and Penelope are the youngsters, and the Russians are the muscle. Together, we’ll be successful.”

“That’s beautiful,” she replied, pulling on a shirt. “Nothing I love more than harmony on a mountain.”

“Come on, no sarcasm. George has such a good feeling about this team. It’s kind of inspiring.”

“Yeah, and all the other teams who have been training together for weeks will race right past us.” Sophie tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice. She would have preferred to get to know her teammates before climbing a massive, uncharted giant with them. As much as she trusted George, the unknowns were hard to look past. In Sophie’s mind, a good expedition team meant everyone pulled their weight, and she had no idea what her other teammates expected.

She felt his hand on her arm and glanced at him. He turned her to face him, gently, and kissed her forehead. “I know you’re nervous. But it’s not like you to be so pessimistic. Can you try to find joy in the fact that we’re in Nepal? Climbing mountains with friends?”

She let herself smile, more for his benefit than her own. Although she was more awake now, her stomach churned with anxiety. She could think only of Evelyn. With each passing second, she grew closer to seeing her sister again. She wasn’t ready, no matter how hard she tried to pretend.

“Perfection,” George announced, stopping to take in the view. Levi and Sophie, following a few feet behind, caught up and fanned out beside him. Penelope had brought up the rear and was taking her time, a trait that Sophie suspected would transfer to the actual expedition—and one she admired. It was difficult not to rush on a mountain sometimes, to tire oneself out well before a day’s work was over.

Sophie shielded her eyes from the bright sun. It was a clear day, and below, the Pokhara Valley spread out, Phewa Lake shimmering in the sun. A little farther up the trail, a group of gliders prepared for takeoff. The colorful paragliders looked like wings stripped from birds of paradise. But none of this captured Sophie’s attention the way that the mountains in the distance did—the Annapurna range, snow-covered giants rising from the lush valley. She could pick out Annapurna I’s distinctive peak, but the others in the range were unfamiliar.

Beside her, George seemed to sense her curiosity. He pointed out the three other peaks that shared the Annapurna name. “And Gangapurna. Tilicho. All good climbs.”

“I haven’t climbed in this region yet,” she admitted.

“You’re young. You’ll find yourself out here again.”

“So, where is Yama Parvat?”

“In that area toward the right. She’s a bit unassuming.” He paused, tracing the outline of the mountain with his fingertip. It was difficult for Sophie to distinguish.

“I’m sure the view from the top will be just as good as this one.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Beside Sophie, Levi cleared his throat. “George. Something’s been on my mind since we arrived.”

“Go on.”

“I was so excited to come here, to see Nepal and experience a new culture. Being here physically...” He trailed off, as if at a loss for words. “It feels different. Seeing the poverty in town. I can’t help but feel like I’m parading around how wealthy I am in front of people who have very little, or nothing at all.”

Sophie watched George. She’d had the same conversation with Levi the night before and had tried to reassure him. George’s brow furrowed as he listened, and his gaze shifted from Levi back to the view of the mountains. “It’s a complicated subject. I could tell you that the Nepal government needs our money, and that some of that money may trickle down to cities like Pokhara and even the remote villages, but who knows if that’s true. Pokhara’s in a better position than most cities in Nepal. There’s a healthy flow of tourism dollars here. And a lot of our dollars go directly to people we’ve hired.” George paused to cough. “Personally, every time I climb, I donate to a charity in that region. One where the money goes directly to the people, for something practical, like health care or education.”

Levi nodded slowly, the way he always did when he was in deep thought. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. But what about—” he gestured “—the mountain itself?”

Penelope, who had been listening in silence, spoke up. “To me, the mountain is not alive. It cannot think or speak to us. I treat it like a piece of art. Climbing is an art form, oui ? I would not go to a museum and damage the paintings. Climbing a mountain is an act of beauty. I am not doing something beautiful if I am hurting the mountain or the people that love it.”

“I agree,” George said. “It’s just rock and snow. The sacredness of the mountain? That’s not my belief. I’ll respect what the locals tell me about it, of course. I’ll listen to them. And I’ll do my best to leave no trace. But to me, it’s the same as an unnamed, uncharted mountain in Antarctica. If someone else wants to impose a sacred deity onto it, that’s their choice. I’m just here to climb.”

“But then why not—”

“I hate to rush,” Sophie interrupted, knowing the conversation would go on for another hour if she stayed quiet, “but shouldn’t we head back soon? I don’t want to be late to the agency.”

“She wants time to eat before the agency,” Levi said, and though Sophie shot him a look, he wasn’t wrong. Her stomach growled at the thought of a warm meal.

There were no protests from George or Penelope. They made their way back down from Sarangkot, and with each step Sophie looked out toward the Annapurnas, where the next few days would lead.

A cool wind whipped through the Pokhara Valley as Sophie and Levi approached the porter agency the next morning, the sidewalks mostly empty at the early hour, few cars rolling down the streets. Smoke rose from chimneys and enticing scents wafted from open restaurant windows as they began the day’s cooking. Sophie gazed longingly into each restaurant they passed; she hadn’t had time to eat more than a handful of granola for breakfast. Levi gently tugged her on. When Sophie saw the others already gathered outside the building, she picked up her pace and waved to them as she drew closer.

“Morning!” George called, motioning them over. “We’re just about set.”

The sidewalk in front of the agency was covered in massive backpacks, stuffed to the brim with supplies for the next several weeks. Each team member would also carry a small backpack with some personal items—clothing, snacks, emergency medical supplies—but the porters were hired to lug the heaviest necessities to Base Camp. Sophie didn’t envy them, but she knew the money they earned on the journey went a long way in supporting their families.

A trio of Himalayan climbing guides stood beside the porters, distinguished by their red jackets. Sophie recognized one of them and changed her course, calling his name as she drew closer.

“Pemba Choden!”

The man turned to her, blinking for a moment before his face lit up in a smile. “Sophie?”

“You remember me?” she asked, before glancing back at Levi. “Levi, this is Pemba Choden. He was our sirdar, our head guide, on Everest.”

“Of course I remember you,” Pemba replied. “You and your sister, the two of you were funny. I have good memories from that trip.”

Sophie tensed in anticipation of him asking where Evelyn was, but he left the subject alone. “I can’t believe it’s been four years. Why aren’t you at Everest this season?”

The smile left Pemba’s face. “One of my friends, he passed away last year. He fell from near the summit while roped to a novice climber. I looked for work on Manaslu or Kangchenjunga instead. Then I get a call about the permits for Yama Parvat. I say, ‘put me on the list.’ And here I am.”

“I’m so sorry about your friend.”

Pemba nodded, his face expressionless. “I think of him often.”

Sophie wished she could say more, but she knew the guides accepted the possibility of death every time they set foot on a mountain, as did everyone else. The difference was that for them, it was work, and for her, it was leisure. She said goodbye to Pemba and the other two guides, who he introduced as Dawa Gaden and Dorjee Norbu.

“Man,” Levi said, after they’d stepped away. “I can’t imagine losing a friend like that and having to just carry on with work.”

“I know,” Sophie said. “But so many people would never summit a Himalayan mountain without guides like him.” She paused, glancing up at the mountains that loomed above the city. “When we climbed Everest, it was his fifth time summiting that mountain. I’m sure he’s made more summits since.”

“But would that be his way of life if rich people weren’t paying him to risk his life?”

“I don’t know,” Sophie admitted. She fixed her gaze on him. “You’re here too, remember? You didn’t pay your way here. Your sponsors did.”

“I know,” Levi replied, lifting his hands as he relented. “I’m still not used to it.” He glanced at the label stitched on his jacket sleeve. “Now everyone knows I’m a sellout.”

“Everyone here is a sellout, too, me included.” On their first climb together in Switzerland, Levi had impressed her with his gentle yet agile way of climbing. His gear had been basic and well-worn, nothing fancy or showy about his style. His understanding of the mountains seemed intuitive, something he was born with, not taught. Sometimes Sophie envied the way he could visualize a line up a rock face and execute it, error-free, on the first attempt.

Levi glanced back at the guides. “I’d love to hear what they think about climbing Yama Parvat. Do you think any of them will set foot on the summit?”

“I’m curious too, but look, we’d better pay attention.” She pointed toward George, who was waving them over. “Or we’re going to get left behind before the climb even begins.”

The trek to Sinuwa was a slog. After a few clear days of travel, torrential rains had met them on the long climb to the village, dampening everyone’s spirits. Sophie had noticed a handful of blisters beginning to pop up on her feet where water had soaked into her boots. She put on some drying patches and prayed they would look better in the morning.

In the common room of the small, dry teahouse, she sat drinking ginger tea and listening to George argue with Ruslan and Ivan. That seemed to be a developing theme. For the past few days they had sprinted ahead of the rest of the group, turning up again at the night’s destination looking no worse for the wear. But George was livid.

“We cannot abandon each other on the mountain,” he insisted, turning his mug of coffee in circles on the table.

Ruslan and Ivan exchanged a look. “You are too slow,” Ruslan declared, and they both laughed.

“Really, though, it’s...” Penelope trailed off, as she had a habit of doing, trying to find the right words. “It’s not, as you say, in the essence of team spirit.”

“So, we’ll lay the ropes going up. Make things easier for you.”

George shook his head. “No. That’s the guides’ job. We’ll take turns leading as we’ve discussed. Without everyone’s cooperation, this team will fall apart, and we won’t make it.”

Sophie glanced at Levi. He was seated beside her, watching the conversation with rapt attention. She brushed her hand against his, which rested on her right leg, and leaned closer. “Want to step outside?” she whispered. “I can’t listen to this anymore.”

A minute later they were on the porch of the teahouse, sheltered from the elements by the roof above. Straight ahead, thick white clouds drifted in the rift between the mountains, promising more rain to come. Lush forest surrounded them, and Sophie was struck by how small she felt.

“Do you ever want to run away to somewhere like this?”

Levi stepped closer to her, resting his arms on the porch railing. “Sure. But I don’t think there’s a place for me here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d stick out like a sore thumb.”

“Oh. Like I do in Geneva.”

He shot her a look. “You look more Swiss than I look Nepalese.” He straightened up, regarding her for a moment. “Every inch of the land here is so sacred. I feel bad just for setting foot on it. I can’t imagine moving here and trying to feel like this land belonged to me.” He paused. “I’m not sure if I can separate the physical elements of a place from the cultural aspects, like George said the other day.”

Sophie felt a twinge in her stomach. “Are you having second thoughts about climbing?”

Levi shook his head quickly. “No, no, not at all. It’s just...” He lowered his head to his hands, running his fingers through his hair. “I’ve never done this before. Climbed in the Himalayas. It feels different from climbing in Switzerland. It’s how I felt when I went to Bolivia, like I wasn’t supposed to be there. I can’t put my finger on it.” He raised his head again, gazing out into the forest. Strange birdcalls filled the silence. “What was it like for you, the first time you came here?”

“Oh...well, it wasn’t here, exactly,” she replied, and Levi nodded. “But you know that, right. Everest was different. I was so young and excited. Base Camp was a party every night. So many teams on the mountain, so many people to meet from all around the world. Like a miniature city. I guess I didn’t think much about if any of us had a right to be there. We just were. I mean, I was grateful. I was in awe. But I didn’t think about the ethics of it, besides trying not to leave any garbage behind.”

Levi listened in silence, tracing the railing with his fingers. “And what about when you came back? For K2 and Broad Peak?”

“It was a quieter experience for sure. I had more time to think about the mountains, to observe them. And it made sense to me then, why they’re so important to the cultures and religions that surround them. I mean in a spiritual sense, beyond just how...how magnificent they are. But I still didn’t have doubts about the climb itself. I didn’t think about it the way you seem to be doing.”

“Well, I’ve had plenty of time to think.”

“What were you going to ask George before?”

“Oh,” Levi said, tilting his head back as if trying to remember. “Right. I was going to ask that if the mountains are all the same to him, if they’re all just rock and ice and a different puzzle to solve, then why come here at all? Why climb the sacred mountains like Yama Parvat?”

A small smile crossed Sophie’s lips. “You know what his answer would be.”

“Because it’s there.”

She nodded, and let the silence fall between them again. During their conversation, the sun had slipped behind one of the mountains, and the forest had rapidly descended into the cool evening dusk. More thick clouds had drifted in, but no rain fell yet. The air was heavy with moisture; a cool breeze made the hair on Sophie’s arms stand up. She felt a lump rise in her throat and glanced at Levi.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do after this trip.” He looked at her, imploring her to continue. “About where to live, I mean. I don’t know if I want to keep playing the long game in Switzerland. Ten years is a long time. I know I can keep the permit, but...I don’t know if it will ever truly feel like home.”

“I understand,” he said, so quickly that it surprised her. “I love Switzerland. It’s a home I can always go back to. But I don’t know if it’s the best option out there for me. How could I? I’ve never lived anywhere else.”

“I have to go back to the US. After this trip, I think. Finalize the divorce. Change my last name.”

“That would be good to take care of.” He turned to her, interlacing his fingers with hers. “And then we’ll travel the world and if we decide that we like Switzerland best, we’ll get married and you’ll become a citizen.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “Listen to you. Proposing marriage right after I talk about my divorce.”

“I’m not proposing,” he laughed. “You’ll know when that’s happening.”

The thought of getting married again brought a wave of unease. Marriage had gone so poorly for Sophie last time. As much as she knew that Levi was different from Miles in every possible way, she couldn’t help seeing marriage as an unnecessary complication. There was no reason to make two independent beings into one unit, so hopelessly tangled by paperwork and promises. Her freedom mattered more than a governmental binding of their love.

Sophie let go of Levi’s hands and glanced at the teahouse door. “Do you think they’re done arguing?”

“I think that the second we reach Base Camp, those two are going to split off. But we’ll have George and Penelope in our corner. We’ll be alright.”

She followed him back inside, enamored by his unrelenting optimism.

From the teahouse in the forest, they moved on, always toward the mountains, and finally to the Annapurna Base Camp, their first night spent in tents. Already Sophie felt more at peace—the reality of her disconnection from the modern world had started to set in. She hadn’t touched her cell phone in days except to take pictures, which meant that she had a lot fewer chances to open her messages and stare at the text from Evelyn she left unanswered.

On the eighth morning, walking through the rocky, snow-dusted landscape, shadowed by the Himalayan giants, part of Sophie wanted to turn back to Annapurna. No one had set foot on Yama Parvat in more than ten years, and no one had ever stood on the summit. There would be more unknown variables than any other mountain she had climbed before. There was some reassurance in that—if she died on Annapurna I, someone could probably point out her mistake. If she died on Yama Parvat—well, how could anyone know what went wrong?

Five hours later they reached Base Camp, a sloping swath of dirt and rock scattered with a few yellow tents. It looked much like the other Base Camps where Sophie had stayed—less rocky than K2 and Everest, thankfully, and less crowded. She knew which teams were here already—Japan and Poland, who had both made it clear that they would be arriving early. At least her team had beat the Americans. A pit had settled in her stomach since the day Evelyn texted, congratulating her on being invited to climb. Sophie knew right away that her mother had passed along that information, because she’d done the same thing for Sophie—informing her, gently, that Evelyn had a spot on the American team, and then imploring her to find time to speak to her sister. Sophie had said she would think about it, to appease her mother. But she hadn’t been thinking about it—training in Switzerland and trekking in Nepal had both been good distractions. At Base Camp, she suspected a feeling of claustrophobia would set in. She was trapped here, awaiting Evelyn’s arrival.

Beyond the colorful tents, Sophie’s eyes were drawn up, to the massive presence of Yama Parvat that loomed above her. The mountain, snow-covered like all the others, looked unassuming at first—just a large mass, not a distinct shape like K2. Of course, the Annapurnas were different from the Karakoram range, where each mountain peak seemed as sharp as a knife tip. She regarded Yama Parvat for several minutes longer, breathing in the thin air, before she noticed that everyone else around her was also still, reverent, even Ruslan and Ivan. Studying, wondering what it would be like to strap on crampons and start climbing. They would all have to wait a few days. The acclimatization process was essential. If they moved too fast, altitude sickness would likely strike, ruining any attempts at a summit.

“You’ve made it.” Sophie blinked and lowered her gaze from the peak. A man had approached them. She recognized him as Yakumo Yoshiyuki, the leader of the Japanese team, and a respected climber who had made first ascents of peaks in Antarctica and Russia.

George stepped forward to shake his hand. “Indeed. Here we are. Not a bad trek.”

He sounded so jolly—it was partially his Yorkshire accent—but Sophie wondered if he was putting on a front, pulling cheer from some stored reserve. He had been simmering for the entire trek to Base Camp, irritated by Ruslan and Ivan.

“We have,” Yakumo said, gesturing at the tents, “a general setup, but you’re welcome to pitch anywhere. There are a few really wonderful people from Adventure Nepal who are staffing the food and medical tents. I suspect they’ll take good care of us.”

Sophie made a mental note to stop by the medical tent and ask for some relief for the blisters that still plagued her feet.

Yakumo excused himself, and George turned back to face the small group. “So, we’ll pitch—in that area?” He pointed to a barren spot left of the food and medical tents.

“Looks as good as any,” Levi replied. They took their supplies from the porters and set off, covering the short distance in silence, and dispersing slightly to begin setting up.

Sophie and Levi pitched their tent together. Most climbers had their own tent at Base Camp; but most would share at the higher camps, even though the tents they carried at high altitude would be even smaller. It helped to have another person close by overnight, both for body heat and in case someone began to suffer a medical emergency. But if the weather took a turn, they could be stuck in the tiny shelters for days. Sophie and Evelyn had experienced their share of boredom and claustrophobia-induced arguments when crammed together, but in the past, Sophie couldn’t imagine being stuck in a life-threatening storm with anyone else. She wondered if she would come to feel the same about Levi.

That night, everyone gathered at the long plastic tables in the mess tent for a meal of dal bhat, momos, and roti. The smell, warm and inviting, was a reminder that fresh food would be scarce for the next few weeks. The Adventure Nepal team seemed keen on providing freshly prepared meals as long as there were climbers at Base Camp—they were scouting the mountain, Sophie learned, for future commercialized expeditions. Their presence was reassuring. George had said there would be food at Base Camp, but he hadn’t given specifics. Sophie looked at packages containing beef jerky, nuts, dried fruit, crackers, and other snacks arranged in massive piles at the back of the tent and let out a breath of relief. No one would starve on this trip.

It struck her how little she had worried about the logistics of things like food and medical care. That was always Evelyn’s jurisdiction, to the point where Sophie rarely had a say. Evelyn would spend days talking on the phone and writing emails, and when they showed up to the mountain, their supply of food would be waiting. Luckily, Sophie never had an issue adjusting to the eight-thousand-calories-a-day diet that mountain climbing required. She would drop a few pounds each trip, sure, but not like Evelyn, who already ate like a bird at home. Her sister often returned from trips looking sickly and malnourished, the outline of her spine clear through a T-shirt. Sophie wondered if the extra stress of her presence would render Evelyn completely unable to eat. She felt an unwelcome surge of worry and focused on folding her napkin into a tiny square, sealing the thought inside.

After dinner, boiling water and a variety of drink options were provided—coffee, tea, hot chocolate. Sophie chose the latter and a bar of chocolate as well, returning to sit beside Levi.

“Go big or go home,” he said, glancing at her snack.

Penelope, seated across the table, stared down at her own mug skeptically. “I have no appetite,” she declared. “It will return in three days.”

Sophie blinked. “You know that for a fact?”

“ Oui. It happens as I reach new elevations. I’ll adjust here, and then,” she said, wiggling her fingers to indicate climbing, “is gone again. Three more days, I am sick. I force myself to eat. I feel worse! There is no solution.” She took a sip of coffee and made a face.

“Maybe you just need to work up an appetite.” Sophie turned to look at Ivan, who was peering at Penelope over the top of his mug. She couldn’t tell if the comment was meant to be suggestive and glanced at Levi, who seemed to have the same question.

“It is enough work putting up with you,” Penelope replied. Ivan grinned and took a long drink from his mug.

Sophie appreciated that Penelope had a good attitude, even when she felt sick. That kind of perseverance was necessary on a mountain, where self-pity would only result in failure.

They looked up at the sound of George clearing his throat as he approached the head of the table. “I’ve been talking to Yakumo and Wojciech,” he announced. “Yakumo is planning an ascent up to Camp One tomorrow. The Poles are still acclimating and have offered to take us a short way up the mountain tomorrow. They’re doing a different route, which we anticipated. South ridge instead of north. It’s totally uncharted, so we’ll let them have their fun. The Japanese team, though, they’re heading our way and it seems likely they’ll be able to pitch Camp One tomorrow.”

Ruslan scoffed. “We should have come earlier.”

“It’s not a race.”

“It quite literally is. If we don’t summit first, what’s the point? Hell, the Poles are smarter than we are. At least if they don’t summit first, they’ll be the first to carve a new route.”

“You are well familiar with the challenges of mountaineering. Anything can happen. So, I wouldn’t count on Yakumo’s team summiting first, even if they have a head start.”

Ruslan snorted. “At least we’ll beat the Americans,” he muttered.

George gave him a withering glance and then returned his attention to the rest of the table. “I’m thinking that we’ll get started around 8:00 a.m. tomorrow, so be up and fed before then. If anyone is feeling off—lightheaded, sick—please come tell me. We’ll get you taken care of.”

Levi nudged her as George turned away. “Hey. Phone is clear. You first, or me?”

“I’ll go,” Sophie replied. Base Camp was stocked with a few clunky satellite phones, mostly for the Adventure Nepal staff to communicate with. Tonight, though, they had offered up one of the phones for calls home. A stout, soft-spoken woman showed Sophie how to dial—it was a model she hadn’t used before—and she listened to the staticky, far-away rings. It was as if she was holding the phone at arm’s length even as it was pressed to her ear. She watched the woman return to fiddling with a set of two-way radios. There was some problem with the connection, Sophie had overheard. No way for the teams to communicate with Base Camp.

“Hello?” Her mother answered on the third ring. She sounded as if she were underwater, but still, she was there, and it was good to hear her voice.

“Mom. It’s Sophie. We made it to Base Camp today.”

“Oh! Honey, that’s wonderful, I’m so glad you’re safe. What time is it there? It’s just after 9:00 a.m. here. I can never keep Nepal’s time zone straight.”

“I know. It’s offset, remember? I think it’s quarter to 7:00 p.m. I don’t have my watch on.” She spoke softly and twisted in the little plastic chair so that her back was to the rest of the tent. She wanted her conversation to be as private as possible, not knowing when she would speak to her mother again. They had last talked when Sophie had landed in Kathmandu before she flew to Pokhara. “It’s exciting to finally be here. How are you?”

Her mother laughed, a sharp burst of static. “Oh, I’m alright. Climbing my own mountains here.” She paused. “I spoke to Evelyn yesterday. She was at a teahouse, day three of their hike, I think. She’ll catch up to you soon enough.”

Sophie tensed. “That’s good. I’m glad she’s safe too. We haven’t...spoken.”

“I know. She said the same.” Another pause, longer this time, punctuated by a sharp exhale. “I know that I’m useless right now, sitting here on the other side of the world, but I wish I could get you two to talk. Just listen to each other. You’re going to be living in the wilderness together for weeks. I can’t think of a better time to reconnect. It’s all I want. It breaks my heart every day to see my girls like this.”

Sophie balled her left hand into a fist and squeezed it. She should have expected this. Instead, she had envisioned a simple conversation, one where she described the mountain, and her mother wished her luck. But Evelyn had wormed her way in yet again. “I don’t know, Mom. We’ll see. My priority is staying safe and summiting.”

Her mother took a long time to respond. “Okay. Call me again when you can, sweetheart. I’ll be around. Stay safe. Use your head. I love you. And I’ll be waiting on that summit photo.”

“I love you too,” Sophie replied, and hung up before handing the phone back to the woman, who was still working on the radios. She rubbed her eyes with the palms of her hands for a moment, although she didn’t feel like crying. Her mother’s words lingered in her head, pushing her toward Evelyn, encouraging her to make up. But she couldn’t fathom where to begin.

Sophie woke before dawn the next morning, her internal clock still shifting. The rush of wind was the first thing she noticed, buffeting against the walls of the tent. Beside her, Levi slept, his breathing rhythmic and soft. She was reluctant to leave his warmth, but she would have to get used to this process each morning, prying herself from the comfort of the tent and stepping out into a harsh, unwelcoming environment.

She leaned forward and opened the door. Overhead, the moon was bright, illuminating the strands of colorful prayer flags snapping in the wind. She could see no people moving around camp. A fine dusting of snow covered the ground. An ethereal, breathtaking landscape. She zipped the door and slid back into her sleeping bag. For another hour, she could pretend to be home, warm in bed.

Home—it surprised her to find she thought of Switzerland, not Colorado.

They spent the next three days trekking up and down, pushing a little farther each time. A snowfield extending down the mountainside near Base Camp made for easy enough climbing early on, but higher up the mountain, the glacier was littered with crevasses, deep cracks in the ice caused by the glacier’s slow movement.

Sophie skirted her way around the edge of a jagged crevasse as she followed her team. They were working behind the Japanese team, who were good, considerate climbers. Although the Japanese team had pushed to Camp One already, they had descended back to Base Camp for more acclimatization. Now they were headed up again. Ruslan and Ivan had found equally spirited counterparts on the Japanese team and climbed in front with them, laying ropes and checking footing.

“Let them,” George had said. “They’re like puppies that need to be worn out.”

George and Penelope tended to bring up the rear, slower and more methodical, which left Sophie and Levi midpack. Levi was efficient, threading the ropes through his carabiners with ease and rarely looking back to check on her. Sophie challenged herself to match his energetic strides, even as her energy dwindled.

The acclimatization process was tedious, her least favorite part of climbing. She kept her gaze trained on the ground ahead of her to avoid looking up at the peak, that towering mass of snow and ice that beckoned all of them. They reached their highest point to date, one thousand feet below Camp One, and stopped for the day.

Yakumo circled back to talk to George, who had stopped nearby. “Well, we’re pushing on.”

George nodded. He had taken off his gloves for a moment to dry the sweat on his hands, and already the skin was bright red. “You’re not worried about the radios?”

Yakumo shook his head. “It’s only a night. I spoke to the Base Camp team; they expect to have them fixed soon. I’d rather not waste another day.”

“Right, then. I think we’ll wait until tomorrow.”

Sophie nudged Levi aside. “He’s being so cautious.”

“I know. I wonder why.”

She shrugged. “He has more experience than any of us. I guess we should listen.”

“Yeah. But at this rate the Polish team will be back home drinking beers and soaking their feet before we even pitch Camp Two.”

“George is worried about his lungs,” Penelope said. Sophie flinched; she hadn’t realized the other woman was behind her. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to interrupt. But I don’t want you to think he is not moving us forward for no reason.”

“Has he not been feeling well?”

“I do not really know the answer. But he seems worried. Privately, he tells me that this mountain will be hard. Do you see,” she said, pointing up, “the ridge? It is very exposed and we must cross it to summit. George thinks if we all end up there at the same time, it could cause trouble.” Her lips tightened in a thin smile. “But he fears an avalanche, too. ‘Let the other teams run up the mountain and see what happens.’”

“It makes sense,” Levi replied. “No reason to take risks in an unknown environment like this.”

Sophie nodded to show that she was listening, but she couldn’t take her eyes off the ridge overhead. She had seen satellite images of it, the sharp backbone of rock rising to meet the sky, cutting one swath of snow from the summit plateau. Even from far below it looked fearsome; she couldn’t imagine trying to cross it in anything but clear, still weather. On a mountain like Everest, which had been summited thousands of times, fixed ropes marked the route for much of the way to the top. Every year, legions of local guides adhered ladders to allow climbers to cross dangerous areas and made sure the ropes were in working order. Though each team on Yama Parvat had hired guides, they would set ropes as they went. On the highest parts of the mountain, where no one had ever set foot, the path to the summit would be a guessing game, and there was no telling how much time and energy might be wasted charting the course. All they knew for certain was that crossing the ridge would be involved, and it looked like a beast.

They descended slowly, collecting ropes as they went. George had decided, finally, that the ropes weren’t necessary at this part of the route, which would save time tomorrow. They could climb up to meet the Japanese team at Camp One. Maybe George would change his mind overnight. She doubted it, but there was no harm in hoping.

When they came into view of Base Camp again, Sophie stopped in her tracks, so abruptly that Levi bumped into her. “What?” he asked, sliding an arm around her shoulders and stepping beside her.

She pointed wordlessly. Below, Base Camp was a flurry of activity, small bodies pitching tents and unloading supplies.

“We knew they’d be arriving today,” he told her gently.

“I’m not ready,” she whispered, so quietly that she suspected he didn’t hear. She cleared her throat and stepped forward, forcing herself to continue walking. Overhead, the sky was beginning to fill with clouds, and she could sense a change in the air. “I think it’s going to snow,” she called over her shoulder to Levi.

He groaned. “Don’t say that!” He jogged a few steps to reach her and grabbed her arm, arresting her movement until she turned to face him. “Hey. You okay?”

She shrugged. “I have to be.”

“Well.” He let go of her arm. “If you need anything, I’m here.”

His clumsy response signaled that he was just as uncomfortable with the situation as she was. She offered him a small smile. “Where else would you be? Let me know if you’re planning on wandering off.”

“Not in a million years. Come on, let’s find something to eat.”

She nodded and followed him, unzipping her puffer jacket as she went. She tended to run hot while climbing, but she also suspected that the dampness on her skin came from nerves. Levi stopped by the tent to remove his crampons, which she did as well. There was a good bit of commotion by the mess tent—everyone was hungry, she suspected; it was well past noon and every single person had been on the move today.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded. They set off the short distance to the mess tent, which smelled heavenly inside, the air rich with spices. The Adventure Nepal staff were cooking rildok and puri. Sophie scanned the makeshift building—no sign of Evelyn, or any of the Americans for that matter. There were a few new faces—the Canadian team, she guessed, who had arrived today too. She spotted Wojciech in a serious conversation with Pemba and edged closer while Levi took a seat at the table. Wojciech glanced at her and beckoned her over.

“The weather is turning,” he said. “Satellite shows a good amount of snow tonight, maybe a blizzard. Tell your team, get the word out.”

“The Japanese team is at Camp One,” Sophie replied.

Pemba frowned. “We should bring them down.”

Wojciech shrugged. “Maybe not. They can survive a blizzard at that elevation.”

Pemba shook his head, adamant. “No. We do not know how much snow will come. We cannot lose an entire team because of carelessness.”

Wojciech raised his shoulders again and turned away, bringing Sophie with him. “I know Yakumo. He won’t want to lose a night because of some snow. But I suppose it’ll be us climbing to get them. Can’t send the new arrivals.”

“What was that about?” Levi asked as Sophie sat down.

“Snow. Bad forecast tonight, I guess. We’re supposed to go retrieve Yakumo’s team. Or warn them, at least. Wojciech thinks they won’t come back down.”

Levi considered this. “The radios still aren’t working?”

Sophie shrugged. “I don’t think so. Yakumo didn’t seem too concerned earlier.”

He grimaced. “It’s a huge risk to take, climbing when we know a storm is coming.”

And I’m sure it’ll push us back another day , she thought. George would almost certainly delay their plans if the forecast rang true, and she couldn’t blame him. But she had been counting on leaving Base Camp behind while the Americans acclimated. Staggered schedules, so she could spend as little time around Evelyn as possible. And now that possibility had all but vanished.

After lunch she left the tent alone. Levi had stayed behind to talk to George and Penelope; she wanted a few minutes of peace before gearing up again to climb to Camp One. They hadn’t yet decided who was going—perhaps it would just be Pemba and Dorjee, or guides from the other teams. But she wanted to be prepared.

She stopped in her tracks when she saw Evelyn—standing outside a red tent, alone, looking up at Yama Parvat. She was angled slightly away from Sophie, but she was unmistakable—her lean frame, the cascade of dark brown hair down her back. At once Sophie felt both compelled to go to her and to leave, to turn away and pretend she hadn’t seen her. But it was too late. Evelyn turned, as if to head to the mess tent, and noticed Sophie. They weren’t close, but they weren’t far away, either, at least in the grand scheme of things—the insurmountable mental distance between them over the last two years reduced to a few dozen feet. Neither of them moved for a small eternity. Then Sophie lifted her hand, almost involuntarily, the smallest greeting she could offer. And Evelyn turned away.