Mountaineers and climbers, especially the free-solo kind, are humanity’s most fascinating maniacs: single-minded, daring souls who throw themselves into profoundly optional life-endangering feats. It is hard not to be compelled, and appalled, by someone like Alex Honnold. Even with ropes, a single wrong move can mean death in mountaineering, a mad activity that puts you at the full mercy of nature. You cannot help but wonder what kind of person willingly chooses this: what kind of person looks at a towering cliff face, or a wall of wind-whipped ice, and thinks, I bet I can get up there.
Aava, Cairn’s protagonist, is that kind of person: a champion climber, a woman who has conquered summit after summit, but for some reason can’t walk away. Before her stands Mount Kami, an ice-tipped, Himalayan-style peak that has never before been climbed. Kami was once home to a tribe of people, whose remnants you find as you pull yourself up each section of the mountain, but now you are very much alone. Controlling Aava’s limbs, you move her hands and feet towards imperfections in the rock, jamming her fingers into cracks and her toes on to tiny ledges. You quickly learn to read the mountain, as Aava would.
