Page 84 of Tiger's Trek
“Let’s go then, shall we?”
* * *
The little group was quiet and rather sober as they struck camp and climbed back into the balloon. Zakhar navigated, and they proceeded to move ahead quite rapidly, making up a good deal of distance. By the time they set up camp that night, he announced they should arrive at the mountains sometime the next day.
They camped near a rushing river, and Zakhar stood next to it and used the nose bag to catch a large salmon that leaped right out of the water. Belizna, the white ermine, was happy to eat any pieces of the fish that came her way. When they were finished, they all lounged by the fire, enjoying the warmth and their full bellies.
After they tucked Zima into her makeshift bed near the fire, with Belizna curled up in her arms, Zakhar offered to stay awake for a while to keep an eye out for strangers. Stacia and he had decided not to eat the last biscuit. They were full of fish and didn’t need to, but they’d also agreed that if a stranger appeared again, they wouldn’t simply offer it to them either, at least not without consulting with each other first. Stacia and Zakhar weren’t sure the gift given to Zima was a good thing, though they both thought that the nose bag had come in handy.
After Stacia had slept a few hours, Zakhar nudged her awake, and then he rolled into his blankets and fell asleep quickly. To keep herself busy, Stacia decided to sharpen her only weapon: the staff given to her by the old man. Truthfully, she hadn’t given it much thought at all. She never used a walking stick, and with Iriko at her side, she had preferred using his claws as weapons rather than the stick, but she had practiced stick fighting a bit when she was younger.
Pressing the hidden button that released the spearhead, she examined it carefully in the firelight. The carved bear with its open, roaring mouth had a hinge so delicate and detailed she couldn’t see it or even hear it. And when she peered into the mouth when the blade was hidden, there was absolutely no sign at all that it was inside. The craftsmanship was excellent.
She’d found a stone adequate enough to sharpen the blade, but once it was exposed, she didn’t have the heart to touch such a rough, everyday object to something so exceptional. The blade was almost jewellike. Stacia wondered if there was a whetstone built into the staff, because when she pressed her thumb to the surface, it bled instantly.
“Okay,” she said softly, pressing the knob to shield the blade. “You don’t need sharpening. Guess I’ll practice instead.”
Stepping away from the fire so as not to wake the two sleeping campers, she found an area clear enough and began working on some old staff techniques. Her heavy outerwear soon proved cumbersome, so she removed her coat, tossing it over a nearby boulder, just working in her close-cut trousers, her snow boots, and a long-sleeve blouse.
As she moved, her boots pressing down into the packed snow, twirling the staff from arm to arm, across her back, and thrusting it at invisible adversaries, her breath formed pillowy clouds in the frosty air. Picking up speed, Stacia twirled and dipped, using the staff as a launch device. It helped her push off tree trunks and kick higher, harder, faster, farther.
Then she began twisting it in her palm, quickly unsheathing the blade, then using the back of her foot to kick the staff the other way so the blade could be thrust directly into the heart of an enemy. Stacia practiced this maneuver over and over again until she felt confident she could use it if they were attacked.
Stopping for a moment, she twisted her arms and neck, shaking out her limbs, preparing to go again. She felt good. Warm, despite the chill in the air. A sheen of sweat had risen on her arms, and there was moisture in the little cleft at the bow of her upper lip. She licked them and rolled the staff over her forearm a few times.
Then she slipped on a patch of wet snow. Stacia quickly corrected herself and recovered her footing, but not before she nicked her other arm with the exposed blade. She hissed, feeling the sting, but it was nothing compared to the cuts and injuries she’d had before. In fact, the pain disappeared very quickly. She was about to start working again when her vision went blurry.
Stacia staggered, and the staff fell from her hand and landed in the powder at her feet. Then it was like a heavy coat dropped from her shoulders, and she felt lighter than she’d ever felt before. Her perspective shifted. It was almost like she’d boarded the balloon ship again and had risen a few feet in the air. Confused, Stacia looked at the campfire, a good distance away, and then down at the staff again.
Someone had fallen next to the staff. No! On top of it. And what was worse—the staff that was so very, very important to the shaman that it was only on loan was now broken in two! One piece lay on each side of the body. Speaking of which, why was there a body?Did I kill a person accidentally?Stacia hadn’t heard anyone nearby. The light had changed. Everything was brighter. Different. Colors that had been muted suddenly weren’t, and things normally bright were dull. Stacia focused on the fallen person. She couldn’t see the face, but there was something about the hair and the boots. The hair was braided and... and red! It was her!
But... how? Stacia looked down and could still see her hands and her legs, but she was somehow floating in the air.Wait!Hadn’t the White Shaman said something about the blade severing her from her body if it cut her? Oh no! What had she done? She should have been more careful. How was she going to fix this?
Help!Oh, help!White Shaman?Can you hear me?Death?she tried. But there was no answer.
Stacia had no idea how long she had floated there next to her body. It could have been minutes or hours. She watched as the limbs on her body grew blue, starting at the fingers. It was soon up to her wrists, while the tips of her fingers turned white. She knew what frostbite looked like and that there would be no recovery. Lowering her head, she despaired. How would she save her sister or Zima or Iriko now?
Was it not even a day ago she’d conversed with Death? Now it seemed he’d come for her, and Stacia was surprised to find she no longer wanted it. What had changed? She wasn’t sure, but one thing was certain: Before she greeted the handsome Death again, there were a few items of unfinished business she had to take care of first.
“I’m not ready!” she called out to the bitter-cold sky.
Just then she saw a funnel of ice and snow appear at the edge of the woods. The trees nearby crackled as icicles grew on every limb and snow swirled about each one. Smaller branches broke and fell to the ground below. Out of the funnel galloped a huge white bear, and harnessed to him was a silver sleigh carrying a wizened old man.
“On, Lednik!” she heard the man cry as he flicked the reins. The bear roared and lifted his powerful paws, stretching his legs and sinking his claws into the ice as the sleigh slid along quickly behind him. Then the man pulled up and they came to a crashing stop, casting silvery snow that dusted Stacia’s unmoving body with a fresh coat.
While the bear shook out his fur and panted from his run, the man climbed down from the sleigh and inspected her body. Then, to Stacia’s surprise, he looked up straight at her hovering form.
“Well,” he said. “You’re caught in the valley between two glaciers, aren’t you, my dear? The question is, which wall of ice are you going to climb, I wonder?”
“Who are you?” Stacia cried.
“Who am I? Who amI?” The man began laughing. “She’s asking who I am. Can you believe it, Lednik? It’s like her parents never read her any bedtime stories. Or perhaps they just weren’t that important to her. Is that it?”
“Of course they were important to me. What has that got to do with anything?”
“It has everything to do with why you’re here. And everything to do with who I am and who you are, for that matter.”
“What? You’ve got to be kidding me! This uzhasnyy dreamworld of yours is nelepyy. I don’t give furry rat’s zadnitsa who you are or even who I am at this point. I just want to go home, okay? I want everything to go back to the way it was. I want my sister, my mom, and... my dad. I want my dad back.”
