Kerka's Book (10 page)

“I don't like ice,” Ardee said.

“What?” I said in surprise. “But you're a reindeer. Ice and snow are your natural habitat.”

“That doesn't mean I have to like it.” Ardee snorted and resumed eating.

I was impatient but didn't rush her. I reminded myself that she was young. And I also started thinking that even if she held me back a bit, somehow she was helping me. That she was to me what I was to Birdie. And, honestly, she just made me feel good.

Reaching into my backpack, I pulled out my coat. The garment returned to full size as I unfolded it and spread it on the grass. I sat down and ate a
honey bar and one sunflower seed cake while I studied the golden snowcapped mountain. I was pretty sure we had reached the halfway point. I wasn't full when I finished eating, but I had to ration my supplies. I decided to let Ardee continue grazing a few more minutes. We had a long way to go, and she would need her strength.

“What!” I sat up with a start, horrified when I realized I had dozed off. The reindeer was standing at my side with her nose in my face. Her moist nostrils flared slightly, and she stared at me intently. “How long have I been asleep?”

“I don't know,” the reindeer answered.

“Why didn't you wake me?” I asked, scrambling to my feet. I was upset about losing precious time.

“You were asleep,” the reindeer said. As I was about to argue, she explained, “I only sleep when I'm tired. You can't climb a winter mountain if you're tired, so I was very careful not to wake you.”

“Okay, thanks.” I couldn't be mad at her for thinking of me. I noticed she wasn't eating any longer. “Are you full?” I asked her. I could hardly believe it.

Ardee bobbed her head, rattling her antlers. “For now.”

“Good,” I said.

I took the mittens out of the coat pocket and put them on. Then I slipped into the coat and noticed that it had grown a hood. Wondering if it had the power to respond to the actual climate, I zipped it up. Then I took off my crushed flower wreath and pulled the hood up over my head. I put my backpack on over the coat and adjusted my Kalis stick so I could grab it in a hurry. As I started briskly across the last stretch of meadowland, Ardee uncharacteristically galloped ahead and waited at the glacier.

“Why are you in such a hurry?” I asked. “I thought you didn't like ice.”

“I know a trick!” Ardee announced proudly. “It will help us.”

“What is it?” I asked, intrigued.

The reindeer bent her front leg. “See the bottom of my hoof?”

I humored her and looked. The big pad in the center of the hard hoof wall was soft and cushy. “I see it.”

“Watch this.” Ardee sprang onto the glacier.

“What?” I asked impatiently. The ice was slippery and it took me a minute to reach her side.

“Hold on to my fur so you don't fall, then look at my hoof again.”

Ardee bent her leg at the ankle and rested the toe of her hoof on the ice so I could see the underside. The big pad had shrunken and hardened within the hoof wall, leaving the hoof with a cookie-cutter rim. When I looked up, she stomped on the slick glacier. Her hoof cut into the ice, and she didn't slip or slide.

“Wow!” I was truly impressed. “Is that magic or natural?”

Ardee moved her head from side to side slightly, the reindeer version of a shrug. “Maybe magic makes winter feet happen faster here.”

Tightening my grip on the reindeer's long hair, I held on as she moved forward. The ridged soles on my boots gave me some purchase on the ice, but not enough to keep me from sliding on the slippery spots.

“Can you see the path, Ardee?”

“Yes, I have winter eyes now, too.” Ardee turned her head. Her brown summer eyes had changed to blue.

Being dependent on Ardee made me feel strange. Then it occurred to me that I didn't feel odd about depending on magical knots or an enchanted map, so how was depending on a living creature any different? I tried to keep this in mind as Ardee moved
at a very slow pace, testing every step on the hazardous ice. I didn't object. I could not have crossed the glacier as easily or as fast without her, and my woolen coat did not keep out the cold completely. Pressing close to Ardee's side kept me warm as well as upright. My fingers were cold even though I was wearing mittens. Burying my hands in the reindeer's thick undercoat helped.

“Don't let go,” said Ardee. “I really don't want to lose you.”

“Don't worry,” I replied. “I don't want to lose you, either. You're doing a great job,” I added. “I couldn't do this without you.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Yes, really,” I said. “But we can't talk anymore, okay? It's much too cold and we have to make it all the way across.”

We plodded across the white expanse in silence. I kept my head down to protect my face. Numbed by cold and lulled by the slow, steady rhythm of our progress, I lost all track of time. I was taken by surprise when we came to a halt at a wall of ice. From a distance, it had looked like part of the glacier.

“What is it?” Ardee asked, sounding both fearful and annoyed.

“A frozen waterfall,” I said. I looked up but I
couldn't see the top of the gigantic icicle. “My dad calls them icefalls.”

The reindeer followed my gaze. “There's no way I can climb it.”

I had already reached the same conclusion.

“What are we going to do?” The reindeer's voice quivered.

“Don't worry,” I said softly. “I'll think of something.” Every problem had a solution, even in Aventurine. I had solved the elf's riddle and opened the boulder gate. And Queen Patchouli's magic rope had summoned the wind to carry the reindeer and me across the canyon. “That's it!”

“Do you have a brilliant idea?” Ardee asked hopefully.

“I have an idea. It's too obvious to be brilliant.” I would have grinned, but the cold hurt my teeth. Instead, I reached under my coat. The pouch was stiff with cold, and I struggled to open it. Finally, I pulled out the rope and touched the second knot. “Here we go again!”

“Oh, fiddlesticks!” The reindeer stiffened and closed her eyes. “Just tell me when it's over.”

The ribbon wind sliced through the purple sky, a ghostly streamer of arctic breath. I tried to hang on to the reindeer's fur, but the wind didn't pick us up
together this time. First it sailed under Ardee's belly, looped over her back, sailed under her belly again, and jerked tight as it yanked the reindeer off the ground.

At the same time as Ardee's hooves left the ground, the wind whipped around my chest. Still clinging to the rope, I raised my arms so they wouldn't be trapped when the ribbon wind tightened. Takeoff was sudden, and the wind rose skyward too fast for sightseeing. It did not adjust course to avoid the bulges in the frozen waterfall. I had to be on guard, pushing off the ice wall with my free hand and my feet so I wouldn't smash into the hard mounds. Ardee squealed every time she banged into the ice. Her sharp hooves cut deep when she hit, causing a spray of ice crystals.

The icy specks were so cold they stung my face. I tried tucking my chin, but slivers of ice cut the skin on my cheeks anyway. My first impulse was to swat the bits away. Then I realized that the crystals swarming around my head like angry bees were actually alive. Since Ardee and I had disturbed them, I couldn't justify doing them more harm. I was sure someone was keeping track of such things in Aventurine. How else would the fairies know which
fairy-godmothers-in-the-making deserved to return and complete the training?

All such thoughts ceased when the ice creatures fled in a sudden, frantic flurry. Just as the last one flew away, a hairy hand burst through the ice and grabbed my wrist.

7
Fairy Lights

I am hardly a screamer, but
this
made me scream—as loud as I could. Thankfully, the wind stopped instantly, so that I hung suspended against the ice wall instead of having my arm ripped off.

“What's happening!” Ardee shrieked. “Why did we stop? Are we there yet? Oh, I can't look!” The wind had clearly stopped going up with her, too.

The hairy hand was attached to the hairy arm of a monster trapped in the ice. Round eyes glared at me from a misshapen face that was framed by black spikes streaked with silver. The mouth was curled in a sneer, showing yellow teeth. A blood-red coat covered the monster's bulging belly.

It reminded me of another folktale my father used to tell me, about a fur trapper who had been frozen behind a waterfall at the sudden onslaught of
winter. He could escape only if he captured a human girl to melt the ice, freeing him as she froze in his place.

My arm had started to freeze in the monster's grip. While my flesh was turning to ice, the ice encasing the monster's arm melted.

I gasped.
I
was the girl! And if I didn't find a way out, I'd be frozen in the waterfall! I still held the magic rope in my free hand. There was one knot left. I was already using the ribbon wind, so the knot couldn't help me. But I didn't dare drop it to grab my Kalis stick. It couldn't smash through tons of ice, and if I survived, I would need the knot later.

“I think I'm going to throw up,” Ardee moaned.

I had one thing to offer the monster, the only other thing I had acquired since leaving the Willowood Fairies: the elf's message.

Could an elf have a troll or an ogre for a brother? I didn't know, but I was out of ideas so I delivered the message.

I shouted it, hoping he could hear through the ice. “The elf on the beach wanted me to tell you: ‘If the wind goes free, so will we.'”

Instantly, the monster opened his hand and released my wrist. A tingly sensation coursed through my arm as my blood started circulating again, but my
joy encompassed much more than my freedom. The first elf had predicted his brother would find me if my path was true.

We had not strayed off the trail
.

The ice melted around the elf's brother, forming an alcove. It turned out the second elf wasn't huge or grotesque—the wavy ice had just wildly distorted him. Rounder than his brother, with chubby cheeks, a furrowed brow, and a dour expression, he was also two feet tall.

I remembered my manners. “Thanks for letting go of my arm,” I said, still dangling in the air. The magical wind hovered in place, apparently waiting for a cue to start moving again.

“Had to,” the elf growled, folding his arms and scowling. “My brother sent you. I didn't want to.”

“But you did all the same.” I extended my hand. “I can take you to the top of the icefall.”

“Why would I want to go there?” he snapped.

“Why would you want to stay here?” I asked, curious.

“Because it's not the top of Dayling Mountain,” the elf huffed. “I have no use for Dayling Mountain. No use at all.” He did not possess a smidgeon of his brother's lyrical manner or poetic talent.

“Can we go now?” Ardee moaned.

“In a minute.” I still had business with the elf. I was a bit put out by his disdain for
my
mountain, but he had let me go and I owed him a favor. I had to repay him or face worse than a few bitter words when the disagreeable little man decided to get even. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I can hope, but I won't count on it.” Heaving a great sigh, the elf said, “Give that same message to my brother if you see him, which you won't.”

“Why won't I?” I asked.

“You're just a child,” the elf growled. “Not a bit of sense in your head, or you wouldn't be hanging around here.”

I guessed I'd be cranky, too, if I had been frozen on a mountain while my sister lived at the beach. Still, that didn't make it right to be so rude. Since as far as I knew I was under no obligation to stay and take the elf's insults, I tugged on the ribbon wind.

Ardee screeched as the current resumed our superfast ride up the icefall. As soon as we cleared the top of the icefall, the ribbon unwound Ardee and me like toy tops and dropped us in a snowbank. I was glad to be alive and thankful that I wasn't climbing the icefall inch by inch.

“I do not want to ride that scary thing ever again,” Ardee complained as she pawed her way out
of the deep drift. She shook snow off her antlers and stamped packed ice out of her hooves.

“And what if you were cornered by the wolf with no other way out?” I teased as I peered down at the glacier.

“Okay, maybe then,” Ardee admitted. “But not for anything else.”

I didn't laugh. Instead, I looked over the edge of the icefall to see how high we were. I inhaled softly when I saw a speck of gray; the wolf was at the base of the ice wall far below.

I was sure the wolf couldn't climb, but with its thick coat of fur, it could easily survive the winter weather on the mountain. When the wolf leapt onto an ice shelf and disappeared, I realized it didn't have to follow in our footsteps to catch us. It could take alternate routes and backtrack to pick up our scent anywhere we had been.