There’s a moment where Cassandra’s terrified that she’s going to fail, that he’s going to fall. (She can’t fail him the way she failed her family, the way she was failed. She can’t. She won’t.) And then he’s there, over the lip of the hole and collapsing onto the snow, and she half-tumbles backwards suddenly able to breathe.

He’s safe. Or as safe as one can be when finding themselves suddenly having travelled between planes. (She’s not sure which one this is, or if it’s even one of the planes she’s read about at all. That's a terrifying possibility, but a possibility all the same.) She smiles at him, her blue eyes bright. “You’re welcome.”