No, Howell agreed darkly in his head. The real plan was that if things got hairy, he would stay, and Sandow should just get himself all the way out. Set off a caterwauling alarm, but mostly – survive. Howell wouldn’t be responsible for any keepers’ deaths on his watch. Nor would he forgive himself for a dragon’s.

But he wasn’t going to talk about worst cases, not now. Not when his sanity was barely hanging on by a thread, and he could feel his hands going numb through his gloves. “The snow’s gotta stop sometime,” he said stubbornly. “This ain’t normal.”

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