Chapter Eight

A huge valley of snow faced Arabella. Joy and happiness welled up in her. She was only a child the only time she had see and felt snow. She rushed out of the trees and stepped in the snow. Mavie sat in a bush and whistled a little song. Arabella danced in the snow. She kicked at the snow making it fly into the air. She laughed out loud.

She covered her mouth quickly with her hand. She looked around but the only one in hearing range was Mavie. She was too busy singing to herself. Arabella let the laughter out again.  She ran to Mavie and fell to her knees in the snow.

“That way to the mountains, right?” Arabella pointed to the pathway leading between the jagged peaks.

“Yes,” chirped Mavie. “Follow me.”

Mavie flew up the path. Arabella ran after her. Excitement filled her.

The sun was nearly at its highest point in the sky when they stopped for a rest. Arabella was panting. Mavie landed on her shoulder and fluffed up her feathers. She cuddled close soaking up warmth from Arabella. Arabella offered bread crumbs to Mavie who accepted the little treats.

Mavie suddenly flew up off Arabella’s shoulder. She flew back around the bend in the trail. She was back in less then a minute.

“We are being followed,” she said. “Hide. I have the creature chase and you can net it.”

Arabella run to a rocky outcropping in the cliff side. There she waited with the net in hand. Her heart was racing. She noticed that a small headache was building behind her right eye.

She leaned out carefully and took a peek. At first she saw nothing. Then something low to the ground moved. Mavie chirped a war cry and started to dive bomb the creature. It leapt into the air and swatted at the little bird. Mavie darted higher in the sky and started to screech.

“Weasel,” she screamed.

The creature stood up on its hind legs. It long body stretched out. It reached and grabbed Mavie out of the air. It held the little bird between its forepaws.

“No,” Arabella yelled.

She ran out of her hiding place and charged the startled weasel. The weasel released Mavie and turned to flee. Arabella threw the net at the weasel. The net tangled around the hindquarters of the weasel. It tripped and fell. As it struggled; it tangled more.

The weasel looked at the net and lay still.

“Get you knife. Kill it!” Mavie yelled.

The weasel lifted its head and glared at Mavie.

“Shut up you stupid bird,” it shouted. Its voice was surprisingly deep and masculine. Arabella stared at him.

“Kill him! Cut him up good!” Mavie did a little victory dance in the air above the weasel.

Arabella sank to her knees beside the weasel. He was mostly white except for his dark eyes, nose, and tail tip. The weasel looked at Arabella and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Pretty lady,” he crooned. “Please find it in your kind sweet heart to release me.”

“No. Don’t do it,” Mavie said. “He’s a killer. Just kill him.”

The weasel barred his teeth at Mavie. She fled to Arabella’s shoulder.

“I’m a friend. Let me go and give me a chance I’ll prove it to you, beautiful one,” he said.

“He is the one who netted me,” Mavie hissed. “He was going to eat me.”

“Is this true?” Arabella asked him.

“Alas it is,” the weasel said. “It is my net. I swear on my white fur that I was not going to eat the poor bird.”

“He lies,” Mavie protested. “All weasels are liars.”

“Not true,” the weasel shook his head. “I am a truthful and honorable weasel.”

“Ha,” Mavie shouted. Arabella thought that maybe the bird was over excited.

“You promise?” Arabella asked.

“Yes,” the weasel nodded as well.

Arabella started untangling the net. Mavie flew up chirping shrilly in panic. Once free the weasel stood on his hind legs and made a human like bow to Arabella.

“You will not regret this sweet lady,” he said. “My face name is Stig.”

“Face name?” Arabella asked.

“That is the name that I am called by,” Stig said. “I have a secret name that summons me but I am not allowed to speak it.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Arabella shook Stig’s paw. “I am Arabella.”

Stig gazed at her then ran a little bit up the path.

“Shall we go,” he shouted back over his shoulder.

They hiked upward for over an hour. Arabella’s legs were cramping. She was panting. She took off her over dress and draped it over her arm. Sweat poured off of her skin. She felt as if she were on fire on the inside. Stig looked at her worriedly. Mavie flitted ahead landing on snow covered rock. Arabella started to look for her little footprints.

Stig would run ahead poke his nose into all the crevasses if the rocks and then run back to Arabella. When he ran his back feet would come forward to nearly touch his front feet and his back would arch up high. Then his front legs would fly up and forward as he sprung ahead. Arabella thought that he moved the same way an inchworm moved.

Her eyes hurt. Her head hurt. Her skin hurt. She could see the top of the pass but she did not think that she could make it. She dropped her over dress and her sack. She lay down in the snow and closed her eyes. She could feel the snow suck the heat out of her body. She closed her eyes.

It was dark again. The world was cool. Small stars flickered behind her eyes. The heat radiated from her body. She imagined herself melting the snow around her with the heat from her body.

“Where are you?” Denrisi’s voice echoed. She was not surprised. He seemed to show up anytime she dreamed.

“I am in the mountains,” she said quietly.

“So close?” his voice whispered. “I looked for you but I could not find you.”

“I was in the forest,” she stated.

 “Why are you so cold?”

“I am lying in the snow,” Arabella’s voice was slurred. She was still feeling hot, but not so much now.

“What?” Denrisi shouted. “Do not do that. Get up!”

“No, it feels so good. I am so tired,” Arabella mumbled. She stretched out as far as she could. She wanted the snow to cover her; to entomb her. She did not want to move again.

“Get up!” Denrisi demanded. He sounded panicked.

It irritated Arabella. What right had he to tell her what to do?

“No, I am too hot,” she shouted. “Let me cool off just a bit.”

“Get up!” He shouted again.

“No, let me rest,” Arabella groaned.

“Get up!” Denrisi’s voice had changed. He sounded much smaller. His voice was higher pitched.

Arabella took a quick peek. The bright sky made her squint. It was hard to breathe. Stig’s worried face looked into hers.

“Arabella, get up!” he demanded. He touched her cheek with his paw.

“No,” she said. She rolled over onto her side and curled up.

Stig fell off of her chest. It was easier to breath now.

“No, no, no,” Stig jumped up and down in front of her. She watched as the weasel threw a temper tantrum. “You can’t rest yet. We have to get down the other side before dark.”

“Why?” Arabella felt she knew the answer but her mind was too fuzzy to grasp it.

 “It will get colder; much colder,” he said. “You will freeze. I will freeze. The little bird will freeze.”

Arabella stared at him. Freeze? Her skin felt on fire, not cold. How would she freeze when she felt like she was on fire?

“Get up now!” Stig yelled into her face.

“Leave her alone,” Mavie said. “She doesn’t feel good. Let her be.”

“Bird,” Stig said through gritted teeth. “That is way we need to get her off the snow. She has a high fever and she will just get worse the longer she lays there. Understand?”

“But she is just resting a few minutes,” she chirped.

Stig rolled his eyes in frustration.

“In a few minutes she won’t be able to get up,” he said. “If that happens, do you think you and I can carry her out of here?”

Mavie slowly shook her head.

“Get up,” Stig pestered. Mavie finally joined in.

“Up, up, up,” she sang.

“All right; All right,” Arabella sighed. She was so tired. She moved in slow motion.

“Put this on,” Stig dug through her bag. He pulled out her extra dress. Mutely Arabella obeyed. He made her put on the over dress as well.

“Now walk,” he pushed on the back of her legs with his paws.

Arabella started up the rest of the slope. It felt as if she were creeping along. Finally they were at the top. Another long snowy path lay ahead of them. The temperature started falling as the sun dropped behind the peaks. She started walking down the slope. Mavie landed on her shoulder and snuggled against her neck under her ear.

Stig would lie on his belly and slide downhill a few feet. He would sit and wait for Arabella to catch up. He did not rush off as before but stayed close. Long icy patches covered the path where the snow had melted then refroze.

Occasionally Arabella lost her footing and fall. Mavie would fly into the air chirping in alarm. Stig would rush to Arabella’s side to make sure that she was all right. He would then urge her up if she was in danger of sitting there too long.

Once they were confronted with a small cliff that dropped six feet. Stig quickly found a safe way down for Arabella. Everything seemed to be in a blur for Arabella. Bare patches of ground began to appear and soon they were out of the snow.

“Stig, I am tired,” Arabella said.

“All right rest here,” Stig hoped on a flat rock. Arabella sat down. She seemed to droop. She could not remember when she had felt so ill. She thought that she just wanted to die. Her pain and heat had to end. They could not go on much longer. It would drive her crazy.

“Can I remove the extra dresses?” she asked Stig.

“No, they aren’t extra,” her replied. Arabella gave a tired sigh. She was too hot and sweaty.

“I’m hungry,” Stig said looking at the bird sitting on Arabella’s shoulder.

“Not me,” Mavie shrieked and flew out of pounce reach.

“Stupid bird,” Stig mumbled under his breath.

“I have food,” Arabella said. Stig’s ears perked up. He watched her remove the food bag. He nearly dove into the bag when Arabella opened it. He came up with a piece of mystery meat.

“You eat too,” he said.

“No, I can not,” she said holding onto her stomach. “It will just make me throw up.”

Stig looked at her in disbelief.

“You need the energy,” Stig said. “You haven’t eaten anything since we met this morning. Feed the bird and eat.”

Arabella did not have the strength to fight him. She found some small seeds in the bag and put them in a little pile on the rock beside her. She pulled out a bread roll. Stig growled and she also grabbed a handful of dried berries.

She ate slowly as if eating pained her. Mavie ate her seeds chirping a happy song while she ate. Stig ate his meat with his eye half shut with a dreamy expression on his face.

“Anyone need a drink?” Arabella pulled out the water bag. Stig nodded.

“I won’t share my water with a weasel,” Mavie stuck her beak in the air. “He would get weasel spit in it.” Arabella just looked at Mavie. Her attitude was getting annoying.

“Well I won’t share with a bird,” Stig glared at Mavie. “She would only take a bath in it and make the water taste like bird.” Stig looked at Arabella and put his paw on her leg. “On second thought let her take her bath and then I’ll drink the water. She would probably taste good.”

Mavie shrieked at Stig. She fluffed her feathers up. She hopped from foot to foot. Arabella could not believe it. The little bird was having a temper tantrum.

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I have a solution.” She pouted some water in an indentation in the rock. Mavie drank the water and then flew down the trail. Stig stared after her for a bit and then drank after Arabella refilled the indentation. After the two were watered, she drank a bit. She packed up and followed them down the path.