by StacyPlays
The group made their way up toward the small lynx until the mountain was too steep to continue. Stacy hopped off Wink’s back and pulled her pickaxe out from where it was tucked on her satchel strap. Everest took a step forward.
“Okay,” Stacy said. “Everest will come with me up the mountain to rescue the lynx cub. Basil and Wink should come too. Addison and Noah can stay behind with Tucker so he can get some rest.”
Stacy, Everest, Basil, and Wink began their ascent up the overhang. Stacy used her pickaxe to dig into the ice above her and then pull herself up and find stable footing so she could pull her pickaxe out of the ice and repeat the process again. It was hard work, but after about twenty minutes or so, she looked up and saw that they weren’t too far from the cub. Everest was in front of Stacy. She grabbed onto him to pull herself up the steepest part of the overhang. Now, standing on top of it, they looked back to where Basil and Wink were a few yards below them.
“Wait there,” Stacy called back to them. “We’ll grab the cub and come back!”
Stacy and Everest inched their way closer to where the cub was cowering, but the snow was loose and they had a hard time wading through it. The cub weighed so little it sat on top of the snow, shivering. Stacy looked at the cub now that they were closer to it. Its fur was sticking out every which way and it had giant ears and whiskers that it would likely need to grow into. There were little black tufts of hair that stood up above its ears, forming tiny triangles. Its nose was pastel pink and its fur was mostly white with hints of gray and taupe stripes.
All of a sudden, the snow began to shift underneath Stacy’s feet. She looked up to Everest, who was also moving back and forth with the snow. There was no time to lose. Stacy grabbed the cub and tucked it into her satchel as the snow continued to move all around her feet. Oh no, Stacy thought. I know what’s happening. This could be deadly.
“Avalanche!!!!”
Eighteen
“HHHEELLLPPPP!” STACY SHOUTED at the top of her lungs as she slid down the mountainside. She was helpless against the power of the avalanche. Everest had also been swept up in it and together they careened away from the wolf pack and down the mountain.
Stacy, Everest, and the cub fell for several hundred feet before hitting bottom. Stacy was sucked under the snow as if she was caught in the current of a fast-moving river. She felt herself drifting apart from Everest and sliding deeper and deeper under the cascading snow. Suddenly, everything around her stopped moving. Stacy had stopped moving. She was trapped in the stillness—suspended in the snow, unable to tell which way was up or down. An eerie calm rushed over her . . . and then fear. The avalanche was over, and she hadn’t been hurt or broken any bones. But her current situation was worse—she was buried under at least thirty feet of snow and would run out of oxygen in minutes. . . .
I’m going to die, Stacy thought to herself. We’re going to die. Her arms were pinned to her sides, but she was able to reach down into her satchel and stroke the warm cub’s tiny head. It stirred, too weak to do much else, and Stacy could feel the vibrations of its purrs against her fingertips. A tear crept out of the corner of one of Stacy’s eyes and instantly froze on her cheek. Where’s Everest? Is this really the end for me? She closed her eyes and thought of the happiest memory she could. She thought about her life in the taiga with the wolves and how good it had been. She thought about Page and Molly and how much she loved them and would miss taking them for outings in the taiga and playing hide-and-seek. . . .
I’m sorry, Everest. We always knew one of our animal rescues might end up this way. Remember the time I rescued a rabbit at the top of a waterfall? You thought I took too big a risk then. But I did it anyway. Just like I took too big a risk rescuing Page near the lava. Just like the risk I took saving Molly in the slot canyon in the mesa. And just like this rescue. Please don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault. Tell all the other wolves I love them. Tell Tucker there was no way for him to save me from this. And tell Basil it wasn’t her fault either. Please look after Page, Molly, and Milquetoast. Keep them safe. And keep rescuing animals. And have a great life in the taiga. Don’t forget about me. I’ll never forget you. You changed my life, Everest.
The tiny cub squirmed inside Stacy’s bag, breaking her train of thought. Stacy couldn’t bear the thought of it suffocating. She reached inside her bag to comfort it and felt it give a small kick at the bottom of her satchel. Stacy reached down and felt something cold. What is it? Did some snow get in? Stacy had snow in her boots, her eyes, her ears . . . it was everywhere. She felt around and her fingers brushed up against something cold and hard. A rock? No—it was her whistle!
Stacy couldn’t believe it. She almost hadn’t packed it. Everest had found the whistle in the woods one day when Stacy had first come to live with them; he’d given it to her in case they were ever separated.
Stacy knew Everest was racing against time to find her at this very moment. He knew she was lost, trapped, but Stacy had no way of describing where she was. Everything was just . . . white. But with a whistle—with a whistle she might just have a chance. Wolves have excellent hearing and Everest should be able to pinpoint her location with her blowing it. Stacy clasped her fingers around the whistle, the cub still squirming a bit in her bag. She went to bring the whistle to her lips to blow, but quickly realized she couldn’t lift her arms. The snow had her trapped. Stacy began digging with her fingers, trying to loosen the packed snow around her wrists (and eventually her elbow), until she was holding the whistle to her chest. She bent her head down—her lips pursed. She wiggled around until, at last, she had her mouth around the flat part of the whistle.
Stacy took a deep breath in, not knowing how many more full breaths she’d be able to take. She blew but no sound came out. There was snow in the whistle! Thinking fast, Stacy took the whole whistle in her mouth, sucking out the snow. She then pushed it out of her mouth and blew three short blasts. The sound was weak at first and Stacy knew it was now or never. She had to blow the whistle as hard as she could to try to save her and the cub. One . . . two . . . three . . . four . . . five . . . six . . . seven. She got seven more blows of the whistle, each slightly louder than the last, until she ran out of breath. The whistle dropped into her hand and Stacy started panting, her breathing very shallow. That was her last hope.
And then, she heard a faint scratching noise coming from above her. . . .
Suddenly, bright light flooded in all around her, causing Stacy to blink rapidly. A hole above her opened up and she saw Noah, furiously digging down to where Stacy was trapped. Of course! Noah’s the perfect wolf to search through the avalanche because he never needs to come up for air!
“Noah!” Stacy called out to him. “Boy, am I glad to see you!”
Noah continued to dig furiously around Stacy, loosening the snow so she could stand and had room to move her arms around. She gave Noah a big hug and then looked up at least a hundred feet to the tiny hole of bright blue sky above them. How are we ever going to get up there? Just then, Everest popped his head into the hole, covering up the sky.
“Everest!” Stacy shouted up. “I’m so happy you’re okay!”
Everest tossed down the pack’s climbing rope, which Noah used to tie a triple fisherman’s knot around Stacy’s waist. He gave a tug on the rope, indicating to Everest that he could begin to pull.
Everest, who was without question the strongest wolf in Stacy’s pack, pulled her, the cub, and Noah all the way to the surface. Stacy rolled over on her back, panting heavily and relieved to finally be above the snow. As soon as Stacy regained her breath, she checked on the cub, fearing the worst. It’s alive! They’d made it out and survived an avalanche, one of nature’s most powerful displays of force.
Stacy got to her feet and wobbled a bit to one side, her muscles weak from being trapped under heavy snow for so long. Everest and Noah walked on either side of her so she could hang her arms over both of their backs for support. Together, they carefully made their way through
the newly deposited snowbanks to the cliff where Stacy could see some of the other wolves waiting.
“Wink, Addi, Tucker, Basil . . . good, you’re all okay,” Stacy said wearily. Wink nodded enthusiastically, while Addison and Basil nodded more slowly. Of course Wink is all right, Stacy thought to herself. Nothing can kill him—he probably thought the avalanche was great fun! Basil and Addison must have had a pretty hard time getting Tucker out of there in his weakened condition. I’m so happy we’re all okay—that could have ended really, really badly.
Stacy reached into her pack and pulled out the cub. Addison, Basil, and Wink huddled around it, taking turns to get a close look at the tiny fuzzball. When they were done, Stacy brought the cub over to where Tucker was lying. She knelt down and placed the lynx cub down between his paws and he immediately began to nuzzle and groom it. The cub closed its eyes in delight and began purring loudly.
“Aww, fast friends,” Stacy said to Tucker and the cub. “You guys are good for each other.” Tucker had such wonderful motherly instincts and Stacy could tell the cub was already beginning to perk up.
Stacy stood up and surveyed the pack’s surroundings. The avalanche had caused her to lose all sense of direction and it took her a minute to get her bearings. The avalanche had pushed them pretty far down the mountain away from the tundra. Stacy looked to the south and saw that there were patches of ground without snow. They were on the complete other side of the mountain range now, which meant . . . Could it be that we’re already almost . . . Stacy looked into the distance where there was no snow, but rather towering spruce trees with dark brown trunks and dark green leafy tops way up in the sky.
The taiga!
Nineteen
THE PACK RACED toward the familiar skyline of the taiga. Some of the wolves let out celebratory barks as they ran. Basil zoomed between spruce trees, running excited circles around her other pack members. Stacy held the cub close and breathed in the fresh forest fragrances. Spring was in full swing—orange tulips and white daisies were blooming, birds were chirping, and the air smelled sweet.
“This is where we’re from,” she whispered to the cub. “This is home.”
I wonder if Milquetoast will like that I’m bringing home a lynx? Hopefully he’ll enjoy having another member of the feline family in the cave so it’s not just him and the dogs. This lynx cub is weak though—I should go to the village veterinarian and get some formula for it to eat for a few days to regain its strength. Then I’m going to weave it and Milquetoast some baskets to sleep in. . . .
Stacy’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of wings fluttering by her ear. She looked up to see Milo the bat zooming alongside her and Wink.
“It’s good to see you, Milo,” Stacy said. “Let all the bats know we’re back and available for animal rescues, will ya?”
Milo flew off in the direction of the cave, leaving Stacy to wonder what animal would need rescuing the next time she saw the tiny brown bat. She hoped there had been no animals that needed their help while they were away.
The wolves slowed from a run to a walk. Stacy hopped off Wink and set the cub down on the ground while she took off her jacket and tied it around her waist. The cub was just a little taller than the red-and-white-spotted toadstool it was standing next to. Stacy smiled and scooped it back up and tucked it into her satchel where the cub happily sat, its head poking out of the top flap, looking up with wide eyes at the giant trees in the taiga.
Page and Molly were waiting in the clearing outside the cave as the wolves approached. Stacy guessed that Milo must have alerted Page to their homecoming. Molly ran around in frantic circles and barked, while Page ran to Stacy as soon as she saw her. Stacy knelt down and happily accepted Page’s sloppy kisses until Molly ran over, and then Stacy used both her hands to scratch behind Molly’s and Page’s ears.
“I missed you both so much!” Stacy exclaimed.
Suddenly, Page jerked her head up and cocked it to one side, her nose twitching. Stacy was expecting this. Nervously, Stacy reached into her bag and pulled out the fluffy cub, bracing herself for a bad reaction. She was prepared to quickly tuck the cub back into her bag if Page or Molly tried to chase it like they did Milquetoast. But much to Stacy’s surprise, their reaction was one of curiosity instead of defensiveness. Stacy attributed this to the fact that the cub was so tiny and was a lynx instead of a house cat. (Page wouldn’t want to get on the bad side of a lynx cub that could grow up to double Page’s size and weight!) The dogs took turns sniffing the cub but then turned their attention to the wolves, wanting to greet each one and play with Wink.
Stacy walked into the cave and took a deep breath—it smelled of pine and was just as warm and comforting as she remembered it. She had missed it so much. Even though they’d only been on their Arctic expedition for about a week, it had felt like longer. So much had happened—the polar bear encounter, the narwhal rescue, meeting the elder wolf, rescuing the lynx cub, and surviving the avalanche—it felt much longer than just a week.
Stacy looked around for Milquetoast, but she didn’t see him anywhere at first glance. She searched her bookcase—Fluff the chicken was there—but no Milquetoast. She looked inside the cave’s fireplace, and near the back of the cave by the freshwater spring, and behind her rocking chair . . . but no Milquetoast. Stacy began to panic. She ran out of the cave into the clearing and called his name.
“Milquetoast!” Stacy said loudly. She didn’t want to yell in case there were hikers nearby. “Milquetoast, come here!”
Page and Molly and the wolves came over to the bushes Stacy was searching.
“I can’t find Milquetoast anywhere,” Stacy said with a distraught tone. “He must have run away while we were gone!” Where did he go? How long ago did he leave? What if a bear found him? Or worse, what if Droplet and Splat saw him and . . . Stacy would never forgive herself for bringing the little cat into the taiga and then leaving him alone and defenseless; at least in the village he had been able to scrounge for scraps of food from the villagers. Maybe he doesn’t know how to hunt for mice! What if he starved?
Stacy reached into her satchel and cradled the little cub. She was so looking forward to introducing it to Milquetoast—watching them grow and play together. And now that would never happen. The cub made a little squeak. The wolves all started looking in the bushes too. Did he find his way back to the village? Is he looking for me? The wolves and I could mount a search party, combing through different parts of the taiga . . . maybe Milo and the other bats could help?
Suddenly, a bark rang out from inside the cave. It was Addison. Stacy walked into the cave to where the wolf was standing.
“Addi, what?” Stacy said. She was still too upset about losing Milquetoast to care about what Addison needed her help with. She probably wanted to pore over one of the books in the cave to translate the runes or figure out what she should make the rest of the pack for dinner. Stacy walked over to her rocking chair but was tugged back by Addison, pulling at her sleeve. Addison led Stacy over to her clothes basket.
“Addison, I do not want to do laundry right now,” Stacy said, turning back to her chair. “We’ll go to the river tomorrow.”
Purrrrrrrrr.
Stacy spun around. Where is that sound coming from? It sounds exactly like a . . . Stacy walked over to the clothes basket and peered inside. Stacy blinked—she couldn’t believe it. Poking out from underneath Stacy’s wadded-up flannel nightshirt was the tip of a black-and-gray-striped tail! Stacy lifted up the shirt and saw a cozy and curled-up Milquetoast . . . fast asleep.
“Oh, Milquetoast!” Stacy exclaimed, waking the cat up and lifting him out of the basket. “I thought I’d lost you.” Milquetoast blinked his eyes and stretched in Stacy’s arms. She set him down on the ground and pulled out the lynx cub from her bag and placed it on the ground beside Milquetoast. The cub let out another tiny squeak—it was too tiny to muster a proper meow. Milquetoast sniffed it apprehensively and then began to lick the cub’s ears.
&n
bsp; “He’s grooming it!” Stacy exclaimed. She was so relieved that Milquetoast seemed to have accepted the cub. She also realized the cub needed a name. Stacy thought about the few things she knew so far about the cub and its personality. We found it in the snow. It’s very, very small. It’s as quiet as a mouse, except for when it squeaks. . . .
“Pipsqueak!” Stacy said suddenly. “We can call you Pip for short.”
Milquetoast carried on grooming Pipsqueak for the next hour while Stacy and the pack settled back into life in the cave. Basil cleaned out the hearth and started a new fire with firewood that Wink and Everest carried in. Addison was cooking pumpkin stew for everyone’s supper. Basil was sweeping out the cave and Noah was happily mopping the floor behind him. And Tucker was watching over everyone and helping out whenever he could. Tucker is so sweet, Stacy thought from over at her writing desk. He’s making sure that everyone is adjusting well to life in the cave with so many different animals here now.
Stacy sat at her makeshift desk, trying to update her journal with everything that had happened on their expedition, but there was too much to write and her mind kept coming back to the runes and what they meant. She flipped back in her journal to the pages where she had drawn many of them from the ice cavern. Stacy was particularly drawn to the one that Addison had stood in front of for a long time. This one is important. I just don’t know what any of it means.
She pulled out her encyclopedia that had the entry about hieroglyphics, but just as Stacy thought, these did not look like them. Addison came over to where Stacy was sitting and rested her nose on Stacy’s shoulder. Stacy looked for a long time at the symbols. She recognized some of them from the runes Addison saw on the tundra and the ones she found in the ice-spikes biome. But these are different from the ones in the ice spikes because none of them repeat. All of them are unique—all . . . twenty-six of them. Wait a minute. There are twenty-six . . . just like . . . could it be? It is!