Kerka's Book (9 page)

“You are if you're coming with me!” I turned and headed off down the path. I had learned long ago that the best way to win an argument is to not let it start.

“Then I'm not coming!” the reindeer shouted.

“Okay.” I kept walking without glancing back. I had to be firm. Besides, I knew what I was doing. The poor reindeer didn't even know her name.

Behind me, the reindeer snorted. Another minute passed before her good judgment won out over her stomach. She trotted up behind me just as the path entered another forest.

“You're mean,” the reindeer said, pouting.

“No, I'm on a mission,” I said calmly. “I have things I have to do.”

6
The Icefall

We walked along together companionably. The woods on this side of the chasm were nothing like the dark forest. Slender trees with twisting branches and large trees with rough bark grew farther apart from one another. Clusters of purple, lavender, and pink violets huddled between tree roots, and blue mushrooms with gold spots dotted the leaves and pine needles that covered the forest floor.

“Don't eat the blue mushrooms,” the reindeer said when we walked by a large crop of them. “They smell funny.”

“I won't.” I looked back and smiled. I didn't smell anything, but reindeer have highly sensitive noses. “Thanks for the warning, R.D.”

“Who's R.D.?” the reindeer asked.

“You are,” I said. “I have to call you something,
so I'll call you R.D. It's short for reindeer. Get it?”

The reindeer snorted again. “Why can't I have a real name?”

I exhaled with exasperation. “Do you like this? A-r-d-e-e, Ardee.”

“Oh, yes!” The reindeer laughed and bobbed her head. “I like that
much
better.”

“Good.” I patted Ardee's neck and tried not to giggle.

We continued on, walking side by side when the path was wider and single file when it narrowed. The path itself was lined with spindles of silver lichen. I stayed on the alert. Lizards and fist-sized furry-ball creatures scurried up and down tree trunks and across ivy-covered branches just above my head. Silver snakes curled around higher branches, watching us with languid curiosity as we passed underneath. And above the snakes, blackbirds flitted from limb to limb or sat on nests.

My breath caught in my throat when something crashed through the trees behind me. I drew my Kalis stick and spun as Ardee reared back and cried, “Help!”

Primed to repel an attack, I lowered my stick and watched the reindeer flail about, tossing her head and bleating in panic. She was trying to shake off a
bushy branch that was caught in her antlers.

“Get it off!” Ardee yelped. “Get it off!”

“Stand still!” I ordered. “It's just a branch.”

Ardee stop struggling and stood with her front legs splayed and her head down. “It's not just a branch. Something's living in it! Hurry!”

The branching tree limb was wedged so tightly I couldn't budge it. I raised my Kalis stick, hoping a sharp whack would jar the branch loose or break it. Just before I swung, I heard a tiny ripping sound. Taking a closer look, I noticed a large silvery gray cocoon nestled in the fork of the main branch. I couldn't hit or break the branch without crushing it.

“There's nothing to worry about, Ardee,” I whispered, “but you have to stay still for a minute.”

“Okay, but take the branch off,” the reindeer pleaded.

“I can't,” I whispered louder this time. I didn't want to scare the creature trying to free itself from the cocoon. I hoped it was harmless, but I didn't know. “Just trust me, please.”

I put my free hand on Ardee's quivering back, then slid my arm over her. The reindeer stopped shaking and stood quietly, her chin resting on the ground and her hide rippling with twitches. It felt good to know that I could make her feel better so
easily. I just hoped I'd be able to protect her if what came out of the cocoon was something unpleasant. I held my Kalis stick ready. I watched as the split in the cocoon widened.

A silver and black moth slowly slipped out of the casing, unfolding wings as delicate and transparent as those of a fairy. It was the biggest moth I'd ever seen. It was at least eight inches from the tip of its head to the end of its thorax. The silvery wings dried quickly. When the moth flew away, I broke the branch, took the pieces off Ardee's antlers, and put my Kalis stick back in my backpack.

Ardee watched the moth drift through the woods, all fear forgotten. “It's so pretty! Where is it going?”

“Toward the light,” I said, pointing down the trail. The glow of twilight shone brighter ahead, unobstructed by trees. I broke into a run. Although she could have easily pushed past me at any time, I noticed that Ardee stayed behind me until we emerged from the woods into a huge meadow.

“Happy!” Kicking up her heels, the reindeer ran in circles through long, lush grasses and wildflowers. Her joy made me grin, it was so full and real.

“Come on, Kerka!” she called. “Run with me!”

I was about to say that I had to plan my next
move when I thought,
What can a few minutes hurt?
Then I ran into the grasses and wildflowers. We played tag, and I made Ardee and myself flower wreaths, thinking I'd have to tell Birdie about them. It was the happiest and freest that I had felt in such a long time. Finally Ardee said, “I'm hungry!” before she stopped and put her head down to graze, her wreath slipping over one ear as she ate.

Rolling my eyes, I let the reindeer eat while I figured out where to go next. Tall, cylindrical stones marked the path ahead, each one placed within view of the next. The route ran straight and true through the meadow to a field of what looked like glimmering snow. Dayling Mountain towered over the blanket of blue-white with the flanking peaks of Hourling and Yearling barely visible behind it. I could still see the golden aura around the three peaks.

I carefully took a pea pod out of my backpack. “Are you thirsty?” I asked the reindeer.

Ardee snapped her head up and blinked. “I don't smell water anywhere, but I would very much like a drink. Can you make magic water like you make magic wind?”

“Sort of.” I laughed, then I poked the pod until it expanded and the top split. I raised it to drink.

“Water!” The excited reindeer lunged and hit my chest with her antlers.

“Oof!” The air whooshed out of my lungs as I landed flat on the ground with my arms out. With empty lungs and a reindeer on top of me, I couldn't breathe or move or stop the water from pouring out of the pod.

“Oops.” Ardee winced and jumped off me.

I couldn't talk until my breath came back. When I was breathing normally again, I got to my feet, brushed myself off, and dangled the empty green pod in front of the reindeer's nose. “This isn't an ‘oops.' This is a very
big
problem.”

“I'm sorry.” Ardee's voice was small. “I've never seen a magic water bottle before, and I'm really thirsty.”

“So am I.” My voice was tight. “You wasted a whole pod of water! We only have
five
left, and now I have to open
another
one so we don't get dehydrated and pass out. Then we'll only have
four
, and I don't know how far we have to go to find more water—if we find water.”

Ardee sniffled.

I took a deep breath. Being angry wouldn't
change anything. I took more deep breaths until I relaxed. Then I took another pod from my backpack and held my hand by the reindeer's face, palm out. “Do not move until I say so.”

“Okay,” Ardee said meekly.

I jabbed the pod, took a long drink, and then gave the rest to Ardee. I poured it into her mouth a little at a time so none was spilled. When the water was gone, I buried both pods. They would fertilize the meadow as they decomposed. Birdie would like that, too.

Of course, Ardee started grazing again, but I went down the path, checking the rope pouch as I walked. “We have to keep going, Ardee. Come on!”

“But I'm hungry,” Ardee grumbled as she trotted along behind me.

“Then graze as you go,” I said. “You can walk and eat at the same time, can't you?”

“I guess. But it doesn't taste as good that way.” Sighing, the reindeer paused to nose through the grass, looking for a tasty mouthful. “Wait for me, Kerka!”

I spun around and pointed toward Dayling summit. “I have to be on top of that mountain by a
certain time,” I told her. “It's extremely important to me. You can keep up, or you can stay here. Which is it going to be?”

“Keep up,” the reindeer said. She pulled up a mouthful of grass and jogged to close the space between us.

Despite the fact that Ardee paused every few minutes to grab another bite of pasture, we reached the far side of the meadow in good time. The sun was getting lower, and the mountain cast shadows on a wide expanse of white just ahead. What I had thought was a field of snow turned out to be a huge mound of ice that stretched toward the mountains as far as I could see. It looked just like the glaciers in Finland. This was actually good because the icy surface would be hard to walk on but not as dangerous as trying to slog through deep snow.

“We'll stop here a few minutes,” I said, moving several yards back into the meadow. I didn't need to rest, but I knew that Ardee had to eat as much as possible before we went on. Reindeer live off
their extra body fat during the harsh winter months; I just hadn't realized exactly how much they had to consume! I knew that where we were going grass would be as hard to find as unfrozen water.

“I like you, Kerka,” Ardee said, lowering her head to eat.

“I like you, too, Ardee,” I replied, smiling.

“This is the best”—tug, chew—“grass”—tug, chew—“I've ever tasted,” Ardee mumbled through mouthfuls.

“It might be the
last
grass you taste for a while,” I said. “There's nothing but snow and ice in front of us as far as I can see.”