Aries Thorgard knelt by the crystal fireplace and read the flames. The fire pulled sideways, then snapped back. He felt it in his chest before his mind named it. He was the firekeeper here, and he meant to be the one people trusted first when the mountain turned. He stepped outside. A tall quartz formation had risen overnight near the ridge, silver veins humming under the frost. He had never seen the mountain grow such a thing. The air smelled of stone dust and cold metal. Avalanche. Bigger than any he had logged. Aries gathered the guests in the main hall. He held up a shard of opal ice he had chipped from a new pavilion forming at the tree line. It shimmered, splitting light into uneasy colors. "The mountain is shifting," he said. "We need to leave tonight." Faces tightened. Someone laughed. The manager waved him off. A child asked if the pretty stone was a gift. No one moved. Aries lowered the shard and set it on the mantle beside the fire. He had given them the warning. They had refused it. He pulled on his coat and went back into the cold alone, already counting how many he would have to carry out himself.

Aries was strapping on his pack when a rescue worker stumbled through the door, snow crusted on her sleeves. She held out a cracked tablet. The screen showed a chalet two ridges over, half swallowed by a wall of new crystal. "It happened an hour ago," she said. "We need to move your people now." The manager stepped between them, arms crossed, mouth already shaping the word no. Aries did not argue this time. He took the tablet, walked to the hearth, and set it beside the opal shard. The flames pulled sideways again, sharper than before. He turned the screen toward the guests and let them see the buried roof, the small figures the workers had pulled out and laid on folding cots near a makeshift nurse station. One adjustable hospital bed sat empty in the corner of the image, its rails up, waiting. A woman covered her mouth. The child who had called the stone a gift began to cry. The manager opened his mouth and found no one looking at him. The guests moved. Coats came down from hooks. Bags were dragged across the floor. The rescue worker keyed her radio and called for transport. Aries shouldered his pack and held the door. The manager stood alone by the fire, hands empty. No one had said Aries was right. No one needed to. He stepped out first into the cold, leading them down.