Holly tapped her helmet to make sure the lenses were working.
“Maybe I’m getting some Optix distortion, sir, but it looks like
they’re missing on purpose, shooting way over our heads.”
Butler felt the blood pounding in his brain.
“It’s a trap!” he roared, reaching behind him to grab Artemis.
“Everybody out! Everybody out!”
And that was when the goblin charges sent fifty tons of rock, ice, and
snow tumbling to earth.
They nearly made it. Of course nearly never won a bucket of squid at
gnommish roulette. If it hadn’t been for Butler, not one of the group would
have survived. Something happened to him. An inexplicable surge of
strength, not unlike the energy bursts that allow mothers to lift fallen trees
off their children. The manservant grabbed Artemis and Holly, spinning
them forward like stones across a pond. It wasn’t a very dignified way to
travel, but it certainly beat having your bones pulverized by falling ice.
For the second time in so many minutes, Artemis landed nose first in
a snowdrift. Behind him Butler and Root were scrabbling from beneath the
ledge, boots slipping on the icy surface. The air was rent by avalanche
thunder, and the packed ice beneath them heaved and split. Thick chunks
of rock and ice speared the cave’s opening like bars. Butler and Root were
trapped.
Holly was on her feet, racing toward her commander. But what could
she do? She threw herself back underneath the ledge.
“Stay back, Captain,” said Root’s voice in her ear. “That’s an order!”
“ Commander,” Holly breathed. “You’re alive.”
“Somehow,” came the reply. “Butler is unconscious and we’re pinned
down. The ledge is on the point of collapsing. The only thing holding it is
the debris. If we brush that aside to get out . ..”
They were alive, then, at least. Trapped but alive.

-The Arctic Incident, Chapter 8