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333 pages, Hardcover
First published April 1, 2024
From here the trail grew steeper, several modest climbs, one false summit after another, before marching across a maze of steel-grate platforms drilled into the escarpment, cables set for handholds. Then a traverse across rocky talus, before the last climb, a series of switchbacks up a vertical escarpment to the Hörnlihütte at the very base of the Matterhorn. All told, 2,300 vertical feet. A three-mile hike. Ninety minutes if he pushed it.
A photograph appeared. It showed a slim, dark, weathered statue of what appeared to be a monk. The words HI BERNARD were carved cheekily on his cassock.
“Saint Bernard,” said Mac, at once.
“What?” said Ava. “You know it?”
“Patron saint of alpinists. It stands just below the summit of the Matterhorn.”

There was no time to rest. He sucked down a breath and set off. A short traverse, a steep staircase of loose rock, and he was at the Solvay Hut. He pulled himself onto the terrace, barely an arm’s length wide. The hut was a one-room wooden cabin built on a perch hardly larger than the cabin itself. He paused, leaning against the cabin, a little light headed.

