Page 98 of Tiger's Trek
“So, what’s the answer?”
“What do you mean?”
“Am I supposed to give up? Or am I supposed to keep trying?”
“I guess that depends on how badly you want breakfast.”
“I hate metaphors. Can’t you just speak plainly? Telling stories like that reminds me of my father. He always wanted me to think and analyze instead of just telling me the answer. He’d never give me the satisfaction of saying I was right or wrong either. Are you referring to my current predicament or to something else?”
“Yes.”
Stacia grunted in frustration.
Father Frost, eyes twinkling again, leaned down and fished the biscuit from the pocket of her inert form. He tried to take a bite, but the biscuit was too hard from the cold. “Nearly broke my tooth,” he said. “I suppose that’ll teach me to be careful whereIlook for breakfast.” He winked at Stacia and tucked the biscuit into his pocket, then patted it. “I’ll just save it for later.”
He turned and made as if he were going to leave, but then stopped. “Oh yes. I almost forgot.” Unbuckling his jeweled belt, he removed his heavy, fur-lined cloak and draped it over her body, still lying in the snow. “That should heat you up in a bit,” he said. “Polar bear fur is quite warm. Keeps me cozy in all kinds of weather.”
“I shouldn’t think your bear would like to hear that.”
“Oh, you’re referring to Lednik? Hmm. Yes. Well, not everything that appears bleak and terrible at first glance always is. He knows the warmth of my coat from personal experience. That fur belonged to his mama. Both of us loved that old girl. She gifted me her magic when she died. Old souls like that keep watch over those they care about. Just like your parents do for you, child. After all, who is it do you think that sent me, little Tassie?”
Stasia let out a soft gasp. No one had called her Tassie except her parents and her sister when she was young. Tears filled her eyes, and she clutched at her heart. She could feel it beating, hard. Warmth spread from her heart through her chest. It rose and fell, rose and fell, as she breathed in thirsty sobs. Above her, she could see the cold, dark sky with bright pinpoints of starlight, and then soft purple-and-blue glimmers shone down.
She began to sink.
“They’re still there,” Father Frost said. “They aren’t beyond your reach, and you don’t need to leap to find them. They’re always near you. They watch over you, just like those stars. And they’d want you to know—want you to remember, lass—if there’s something you want, something good, and you can’t grasp it, just circle back. It may be that you just have some growing to do. Perhaps you’ll find that the next time you come ’round those grapes will be easy to reach after all.”
Stacia covered her face with her hands and began sobbing anew. She drew up her knees like she used to do in her bed when she was a child and frightened of some monster hiding underneath it, calling out for her father to come to her room and save her.
But instead of her papa, the voice of Father Frost soothed her. “All will be well, child. Sleep and let my pelisse work its magic. You’ve more work to do before joining your ancestors. Hush now. Sleep. Sleep.”
That was the last thing she heard.
* * *
Stacia woke with the sun shining brightly in her eyes. She blinked and groaned. Her body felt stiff, but she was warmer than she’d been in a long time and didn’t want to move. Fur tickled her nose. Becoming alert at once, she sat up and the heavy cloak fell from her shoulders, taking several inches of snow with it.
“I’m back in my body,” she mumbled, pulling her fingers out to examine them. They were pink and healthy. She checked her feet, wiggling her toes, and they were also warm and unaffected by frostbite. Unfortunately, the staff was still broken. Careful to shield the blade, she picked up the two pieces and, finding a large pocket inside the cloak, placed them inside, then wrapped it around her body and headed back to camp.
Zakhar was calling her name as she approached.
“I’m here,” she cried as she rounded some trees.
He sighed in relief. “We were worried. We thought a bear had made off with you,” he said, his words trailing off as he saw the cloak. “What’s this?”
“I had something of an adventure last night,” Stacia confessed. “I wanted to practice using the staff, and I didn’t want to wake you, but then I accidentally cut myself and had what you might call an out-of-body experience.”
“Are you quite well?” Zakhar asked.
“I am. I... ran into Father Frost out there.”
“Father Frost?” exclaimed Zima. “Did he bring you any presents?”
“In fact, he did,” replied Stacia. “He gave me his coat. But I’m sorry to say, I broke the...”
Stacia reached into the cloak pocket to pull out the pieces of the staff, but when she did, she only found one piece. Panicking, she dug around for the other part. “Oh no! We have to find it!”
“Find what?” asked Zakhar.
