It was the following morning and Clara had slept almost from the moment she’d arrived at Base Camp until now. She looked so vulnerable, lying there in the bed that Martha had made up for her. Back in the City, her parents would be frantic; there would be search parties looking for her. And she was all alone here, away from her friends and family, unable to contact them. But she was safe. Would be safe. She opened her eyes and he started slightly. ‘Here,’ he said stiffly, handing her a bowl of cereal. ‘Have some breakfast.’ Clara took the bowl silently; he could tell that she was anxious, unsettled, unsure. He didn’t blame her. ‘This is Martha,’ he said, stepping aside so that Clara could see her. ‘She’s going to look after you here.’ His voice sounded formal; he could tell that it made her nervous but he couldn’t seem to do anything about it. Clara’s eyes widened. ‘What about you?’ ‘I have to go and find someone. I …’ Lucas trailed off, not sure how much to tell Clara; the truth was, he barely knew what he was doing himself.
