The Snowy

by Dave Schneider

  “I guess they’d consider us rare,” said Notch.

  “Mm....”

  Sparky shoved a rolled leaf further into the fire. “You’ve made this kind of fire before?” he asked.

  “Here. When young, like you,” replied Snowy, handing them fruit and nuts from his pack.

  Notch bit into the fruit and said, “You were here?” “Father, mother, bring me to Lowconzia. Come to find rare healing plant. We camp by fiord. Long time. Only us. Then sea traders come. Anchor in cove near us. Camp on shore. Leave us alone. One day, I see sea trader throw net off cliff. Net catch foot. Pull trader in water. He struggle with net. I jump in. Help. He same age me. Name Argg. Argg, me, soon friends.”

  “So you were our age?” asked Neff.

  “Mm.”

  “You still seem young,” she said.

  “Still young. Still learn. Still mess up. Like you.”

  Neff glanced at Sparky and Notch.

  “I mess up when let you through,” said Snowy, shoving a rolled leaf into the fire.

  “How long were you here?” asked Notch.

  “Five circles around sun.”

  “That’s, like, five years?”

  “Not like five years. Was five years.”

  “Right,” said Notch. “You and your parents.”

  “Not parents.”

  “Not your parents?” asked Neff. “How come?”

  “One day father see rare plants. Next day we go to get. We cross stream. I look up stream. See rare plant on bank by waterfall. I decide to get. Not tell parents. Want to surprise. Not too smart,” said Snowy.

  “Like us,” Neff said softly.

  “So, what happened?” asked Notch.

  CHAPTER 18

  Not Too Smart

  “I CLIMB TO WATERFALL,” said Snowy. “Reach for plant. Whump. I turn upside down, leg in rope, see ground go away. ‘Snare!’ I shout. ‘Help, please.’ Father, Mother not hear. Waterfall too loud. I not too smart. I look around. See two Trappids come from bushes. Animal skins, ropes over shoulders, faces like ate something bad. Not good, I think. Old one, Scowlface, have long, dirty white hair. Young one, Sneerface, have long, dirty black hair.” Snowy folded his legs.

  “You must have been scared,” said Neff.

  “Mm.”

  “Were they big?” asked Notch.

  “Short. Wide. Strong.”

  “So what happened?” asked Sparky.

  “I say, ‘Nice meet you. Never met Trappid. I....’ But Scowlface put hand over my mouth. Hand stink. I gag. He pull hand away. Slap my face. I quiet. Young one, Sneerface come at me with knife. Scowlface push knife away. Sneerface swear, spit. Then Scowlface kick Sneerface. I think: Scowlface boss. Scowlface point at rope. Sneerface grunt, cut off piece, ‘ssssst’.”

  “You were still upside down?” asked Notch.

  “Mm. Sneerface tie my hands. Then cut snare. I fall. He put rope on my neck. He and Scowlface drag me many days to Lowconz outpost. Lowconz buy me. Scowlface, Sneerface happy see me go. Say I talk too much. Lowconz take me to last light mountains.”

  Snowy shoved another rolled leaf into the fire, stretched, folded his arms, then leaned back and closed his eyes.

  “Being taken away from your parents, must have been terrible,” ventured Neff.

  “Sad time.” Snowy rubbed his temples.

  He’s really big. Notch was fascinated with this strange being. Could he be a Sasquatch? No. Then he’d be hard to see when he changes color. Oh, wait. Duh!

  The howling faded. “They smell us,” Snowy said softly.

  “What’ll they do?” asked Notch.

  “Come for us,” yawned Snowy. He continued. “Lowconz chief, Skong, buy me, give me to son, Zeekeng. I tell Zeekeng Snoflians have better life. He ask why.”

  Notch frowned. They’re coming for us and he keeps talking?

  “I say, ‘Snoflians choose peace. Life better with peace.’”

  “But,” said Notch, “to have peace, you need to be safe. To be safe, you need a military, right?”

  “Snoflians have Warriors. Watchers. Teachers. Watchers warn of invaders. Warriors stop invaders. Teachers show invaders how to live without war. Then Watchers watch again.”

  “What happens to the leaders who led the invaders?” asked Notch.

  “We exile them. Help invaders find better ones,” he said, chuckling. He re-rolled two leaves tightly and handed one to Sparky. “Torch.”

  Torch? Sparky took it.

  Notch stared into the flames. Watchers warn. Warriors protect. Teachers help change leaders...then Watchers watch to make sure new leaders get it right. He looked at Snowy. He must be a Watcher. I bet he was sent to watch us.

  “So, what happened to you?” asked Neff.

  “I be like Lowconz. Make weapons. Hunt. Build fires. Fight. But never kill. Except one time....his eyes dropped.

  Neff wondered if Snowy would talk about it.

  But suddenly he held up the palm of his hand and brought a finger to his lips. He jabbed the end of the torch into the fire and nodded to Sparky who did the same. They all sat, silent, hearts pounding. The tips of the torches burst into flame.

  There was a grunt. A snort. Then scratching. Snowy picked up his torch. Sparky did the same.

  A narrow, black snout slowly slid between the lam leaves on Sparky’s side, sniffing, mucous dripping from its two nostrils. Then the mouth emerged baring black gums, red-stained teeth and long yellow fangs, which curved downward outside the jaws, beads of saliva dripping from their tips. The snout slipped further in, sniffing more rapidly, the eyes not yet showing.

  Sparky drew back, clutching the burning torch, his breath shallow, hands sweating. Neff and Notch pulled their legs further under.

  Snowy glared at Sparky and feigned a jab with his torch. Sparky got it. In a flash, he shoved the burning torch at the nose. The tip went up a nostril...and sizzled! “Aarroooo!” The snout vanished. “Arp...arp...arp...yip... yip.”

  A cacophony of howls faded down the slope toward the forest.

  The smell of burning flesh hung in the cave. Neff held her nose. Notch coughed. Sparky sat shaking from the rush of adrenaline.

  “Are they gone?” whispered Neff.

  “Mm. Leader not stupid,” said Snowy, clearing his throat and continuing his story. “Zeekeng has cousin, Vyldung. Vyldung hate Snoflians. Vow to kill me.”

  “Not a healthy place,” said Neff. Neither is this place. Her eyes watered in the smoky haze. “So what did you do?”

  “One day, Zeekeng, me, go to fish, where river go under mountain. Zeekeng tell me it goes to the sea. He say I free. I thank him. Get in river.”

  “Sounds like a good friend,” said Neff.

  “Was.”

  “You went under a mountain?” asked Notch.

  “On back, in river, in dark, long way,” said Snowy. “Very cold. Hard to breathe. Then I hear roar. Zeekeng not warn me about waterfall. Too late. I go over. Sink. Come up. Gulp air. Bounce down rapids. Then, smack,” Snowy whacked the palm of his hand with his fist, “hit fallen tree. I climb on tree, crawl to river bank. Body hurt. Sleep in sun long time. Eat fruit, nuts. Then walk by sea long way. Find secret Trappid trading point. Hide. Watch. Two days later, see sea traders come. I wait for dark. Sneak on sea trader ship. Let them capture me. They take me Snoflia. Say they save me from Trappids. They lie. But Snoflians give reward anyway. Pirates happy. I happy.”

  “Your parents,” said Neff, “they must have been very happy.” Will I ever see my parents again?

  “They happy,” said Snowy. “Then my story spread. I become popular. Too popular, my father say. Snoflians decide to make me Watcher. Youngest ever.”

  “I guessed it,” whispered Notch.

  “But I not ready,” said Snowy. “Watcher serious job. I play too muc
h. Mess up. Like you.” Snowy shrugged and fell silent.

  So they sent you to watch us...and you blew it...kind of like we did.… Notch drifted off to sleep, followed by Neff and Sparky.

  The fire was warm, the cave dry. It had been a long day. The small moon dropped beyond the three pinnacles.

  Snowy dozed, ears tuned to the night sounds.

  The following morning, Snowy and Notch doused the fire with rocks and soil. Neff and Sparky took down the lam leaf hut.

  “Will need to make boots,” said Snowy, pointing at the snow-covered peaks. They each folded up a lam leaf and stuffed it in their backpack.

  Snowy led them uphill to a highland forest, where he paused. “Before we go into this forest, must warn....” Suddenly he became quiet, listening.

  They heard yelping in the distance.

  “Come!” he barked. He ran toward a thicket of plants each as big as a car, with four huge purple leaves lying open.

  Neff, Notch and Sparky sprinted after him, adrenaline pumping.

  The yelping grew louder.

  CHAPTER 19

  Cornice

  SANDY LANDED FACE DOWN IN SNOW. She raised her head, wiped her eyes and stared. A thousand foot pitch fell away below her. A cornice. She squirmed back from the edge and bumped into something. Her backpack. She drew it to her. She got to her knees, zipped up her parka, then pulled out her helmet, goggles and gloves and put them on.

  The strange ski pole she had used to whack the snake lay beside her. She grabbed it. She looked off to the right and to the left. Jagged rock walls tumbled down both sides of the pitch. A chain of ragged, snow covered pinnacles curved away in both directions.

  These are not my mountains. Where am I? So cold!

  She heard a whoosh. She looked back. Something was swirling up the peak. Snow devil? No. It’s that spinning thing! It paused between two dizzyingly high spires, shimmered for a moment, wobbled, then whipped away.

  Was that for me? “So long....thing,” she uttered.

  She crawled forward and studied the pitch below. Something on it was moving. The snowsnake. It was wriggling downhill, head high above the powdery surface. She squirmed forward and peered over the cornice at the snow below. The other ski pole and both skiyaks lay there. Okay.

  As she looked for the snake again, a massive slab of snow began to break away from the hole the snake had left when it fell. Avalanche. The slab slid downward, picking up speed, churning up a cloud of powder.

  The snake slithered rapidly off to the right. It hasn’t got a chance. The tumbling mass caught the snowsnake, which, writhing frantically, disappeared in the snowy haze.

  Sandy looked up at the sun. Red? That’s not my sun. She felt a wave of panic. This is...not Earth. Where am I?

  She waited for the powder cloud to settle, then spotted the snowsnake again. It was swinging its head side to side, trying to break free from the avalanche pile. Poor thing. Wait. What am I saying? It tried to kill me. The serpent finally squirmed out, then lay still, resting its head on its coiled, fur covered body.

  “Go away!” said Sandy.

  The snake slowly raised its head, looked towards her and bared its fangs. She shivered. It heard me. She ducked, waited a moment, then peeked. The serpent was slithering away to the right toward a forest of short, cone-shaped trees.

  I’m going the other way. She looked off to the left. There was a tiny wedge of green in a distant valley.

  Could my friends be down there? “Please let them be there,” she moaned. “But what if they’re not?” She started to cry, then abruptly stopped and wiped away the tears.

  “I have to get down,” she said firmly. She dropped the pole over the edge and eased her backpack over. So far, so good.

  She slipped over, legs first, feet reaching. “Please don’t avalanche,” she pleaded in a whisper. She held her breath and dropped onto the pitch. The snow held. She inhaled. Thin air. She inhaled more deeply. Really thin.

  She looked at the skiyaks. She tried to put her ski boot into one. Too big. She took out a hiking boot. It fit. She changed to hiking boots and packed away her ski boots.

  The skiyaks’ cuffs closed around her ankles. The linings flowed around her feet. Warm. She moved her toes up and down. The tips of the skiyaks moved with ease. They bend with my toes.

  She put her backpack on, picked up the poles and pushed tentatively across the steep to the left. Here goes. She flexed, planted her right pole, rose slightly and steered down the pitch in a turn to the right. As she finished the turn, she pulled up her toes. The skiyaks cut sharply uphill. She almost fell backward. Okay, okay. She flattened her toes. The skiyaks ran straight. Then she tilted the skiyaks to the left and raised her toes. The tips arced sharply left. Oops! Got it. She turned again, gingerly. The skiing movements she was so familiar with worked even better with the toe-curling kayaks.

  Sandy kept to the left side of the avalanche path. Partway down, she paused to catch her breath. A curtain of snow was sweeping up the mountain toward her underneath a churning gray cloud. Upslope squall. Got to hurry. She pushed off.

  Within a minute, icy particles began to sting her lips, nose and cheeks. She pulled her hood around her face. She sensed, more than saw her way through the whiteout. As the squall faded, she found herself at the bottom of the avalanche path, where the slope flattened out. She took a deep breath and cut to the left, circling past a pile of snow boulders left by previous avalanches.

  When the slope began to drop away again, she paused. She scanned the span below. On her right sat the forest where the snowsnake had gone. In front, the slope rolled away out of sight. Cliff? To her left, a long promontory jutted from the mountainside. The far end rose slightly, its highest point. Looks like a big nose. I’ll be safe from avalanches out there. And I’ll be able to see better.…

  She stared. On the tip of the nose sat a dozen round-topped mounds, perfectly proportioned.

  Her heart leapt. “Igloos?” she whispered. She lifted her goggles and squinted. Nothing moved. Maybe my friends are there. She headed that way, keeping out of sight from mounds, wherever she could.

  After an hour, she poled up to a boulder and carefully peered around. The first mound was close. No movement. She pulled back, took a deep breath then peered again, this time further around. She pulled back again.

  Wet from exertion, and no longer moving, she began to shiver. She didn’t know what to do next. Is anyone there? If so, who are they? Or what are they? Are they friendly? Dangerous? How can I communicate?

  Biting her lip, she leaned out to take a longer look, then abruptly pulled back, fell on her left side side against the boulder, and winced.

  A feeling of dread flowed over her. Her adrenaline kicked in. Her heart pounded.

  In the snow, between her and the first mound, had been two humanoids, clothed all in white, crouching silently, unmoving, and staring—at her!

  They saw me! What do I do?

  CHAPTER 20

  Fangvaulters

  “IN, QUICK,” SNOWY SHOUTED. He shoved Neff and Notch toward one of the car-sized, purple plants. The yelps grew louder.

  Notch froze. In? He looked at the huge, open leaves, back at the trees, then at Snowy.

  “In!” shouted Snowy. “Now! Touch leaves. Will close. Keep touching. Don’t speak. Don’t move. Be strong. Wait. I come back. Keep touching leaves.”

  Notch crawled onto an open leaf. It curled up and flipped him inside. He landed on his backside, knees to his chest. Three leaves remained open.

  Neff grabbed a leaf.

  Snowy shoved.

  She tumbled in headfirst, and fell on her side. “Ooff.” Snowy tapped the other two leaves.

  What’s coming? Sparky was being pushed toward the next plant.

  “In!” spat Snowy.

  Sparky dove. The leaf flipped him inside. Snowy slapped
at two open leaves and ran to another plant, shouting, “Touch other leaf, now.”

  He’s really scared. Sparky glanced toward the trees as he pressed on the other leaf. “Wow,” he whispered, scrunching down into the closing plant.

  He pressed his hands and feet firmly against the closed leaves. A thin ray of light shone through a tiny slit by his head. He peeked.

  A dozen hyena-like beasts had hopped into the far side of the clearing. The pack was spreading across the clearing, heads swaying, red eyes searching.

  Each had six appendages: Two arms with clawed hands for grasping, two long middle legs for vaulting, and two short hind legs for walking and jogging. Some shambled on hind legs, vaulters folded. Some hopped on vaulters, like kangaroos, back legs pulled up, claws opening and closing.

  Blue-green fur covered their bodies. Spiny hackles with bright red tips ran down their sloped backs. Their faces, foreheads and jaws were as wide as their shoulders. Yellow teeth ran like piano keys across their mouths. Long blue fangs curved downward outside their lower jaws.

  Suddenly, a much bigger one jogged from the trees, stretched its vaulters forward and leapt, landing in the middle of the clearing and knocking over a smaller beast. It kicked the smaller one out of the way, then scanned the clearing. Unlike the others, it had a bushy, black ring around its neck. Looks like the leader. A male?

  A second, slightly shorter beast, with a similar black ring jogged from the trees dragging a smaller, six-legged creature at the end of a rope. A pet? A captive? She joined the first black ring. Female leader?

  The pack gathered around the two.

  Killing machines. Sparky hunkered motionless, scared.

  The leader put his nose to the ground and sniffed. He yelped once and scrambled nose down across the clearing toward the plant with Neff and Notch. He paused in front of it, flexing his claws, sniffing the folded leaves. Then he circled it, the others waddling behind him, yelping, swinging their heads, spewing wads of saliva.