“Smells like Grandma’s garden,” said Sandy.
“I’ve missed her garden,” said Sam, wistfully.
The caregiver led them into an alcove with a cot and three chairs. Sam sat on the bed and pulled off his silver fur hat. His salt and pepper shoulder-length hair matched his long beard.
Sandy helped him pull his gray fur parka over his head. He’s thin. But strong...strong enough to get here, despite his leg, and to shoot a bow. She had a flashback to the Lowconz warriors, took a deep breath and studied him. He looks like Dad...and smells like him, too, after a workout.
Sam, feeling self-conscious, pointed toward the back of the pod. “The Lowconz I came with are over there,” he said.
Sandy stood to see.
“Zeekeng, the chief,” said Sam, “is in the corner with his wife. The others are his wife’s mother, two daughters and young son. I was Zeekeng’s slave. He freed me. He’s my friend.”
Sandy sat and took his hand, “You were his slave, and he’s your friend?”
Sam nodded. “Yes.”
“How could he be your friend,” she asked, irritated, “if he left you, a slave, back there under the snow?”
“He had to protect his family from the warriors, Sandy. If he had come back for me, he would have put his family in grave danger. I understand that. But, you, sweetheart, were very brave. You didn’t know who I was, yet you went to help me. And when you saw the Lowconz coming you led him away from where I was. That was so brave.”
“I just did what was right.”
Grezz came in. “Sam?” he asked.
Sam stared at Grezz for a moment. Then his face lit up. “Grezz? Grezz! Was that you out there?” Sam reached out. They embraced. “Thank you, my friend...thank you,” croaked Sam, blinking away tears.
“When you come to Lowconzia?” asked Grezz.
“A long time ago,” said Sam.
Sandy stared, her mouth open. “You know Grezz?”
“Yes. Your grandmother and I met Grezz, years ago, when he was a watcher.”
“Grandma never told me. Why didn’t she tell me?”
“We made a solemn promise to keep the Snoflians, the cave and the wormhole a secret, Sandy. But, now that you know, I’m glad.”
“This is too much,” said Sandy, rubbing her temples.
A Snoflian caregiver brought warm drinks. Grezz handed two to Sam and Sandy. He took the third and slurped, loudly.
Sandy lifted her cup, looked at Sam and raised her eyebrows.
Sam smiled slightly and asked, “Sandy, where did the wormhole drop you?”
“Up there,” she pointed toward the peak. “Then it flew away over the mountain. I came down here.” She glanced at Grezz. “The Snoflians found me. I was lucky. Grezz told me, if the wormhole ever stops moving, we might be able to go home.”
“My heart aches for home,” said Sam, closing his eyes for a moment. “But my granddaughter is here,” he brightened, squeezing Sandy’s hand. “I can’t believe it.”
“Grandpa, how did you disappear? What happened?” asked Sandy,.
“It was early one Saturday morning. I told your grandmother I was going up to check on the cave. Grezz had been called back to Snoflia, so I had been checking it every few weeks to see if there was any sign of a new watcher.”
“Mm,” Grezz nodded, “takes time to train watchers.”
Sam continued. “I went into the cave and down to the wormhole. Two mountain lion cubs were playing there. I knew mama lion would not be happy to find me there, so I started to climb out. But she was coming down. I ran to the wormhole. I figured, if she came for me, I’d go through. I’d be safe with the Snoflians. I could come back later.” He shrugged.
“So...?” asked Sandy.
“She picked up the cubs by their scruffs and placed them in the tunnel. I thought she was taking them out, but then she turned and crept towards me, teeth bared. I didn’t wait. I stepped back. The wormhole grabbed me. It dumped me on some island.”
“One like this,” asked Sandy.
“No, one much smaller. I was alone for months. I felt like Robinson Crusoe. Then one day pirates came.”
“Pirates?” asked Sandy. “They have pirates here, too?”
“It’s an old profession,” smiled Sam. “They captured me. Made me a deckhand. We sailed for weeks. One night we anchored in a bay under the highest cliffs I’ve ever seen. There were fires on the beach. I later learned they belonged to the Lowconz. I figured, come dawn, the pirates were going to sell me. So I slipped over the side, swam to shore and ran. Days later, I came to a fiord. Followed it inland. Then Trappids caught me. They sold me to the Lowconz chief, Skong, Zeekeng’s father.”
“You were a slave?”
Sam nodded. “Skong liked to collect living things, the rarer the better. I was rare. He paid a fortune for me, then gave me to Zeekeng. Zeekeng and I became friends. He freed me, but only in his home. Outside, I had to act like a slave.”
“That’s not being free,” said Sandy.
“No, it’s not.” Sam took hold of Sandy’s hands and looked into her eyes. “But, I lived with it. I held to the hope that someday I’d get back your grandmother.”
“Grandma never gave up hope either, Grandpa,” said Sandy. “She always believed you would come back. She’ll be beside herself when she sees you.”
“I can’t wait,” he said, gazing at Sandy. “You look so much like she did when she was young. You’re beautiful.”
Sandy looked down. She didn’t feel very beautiful right now. “Thanks,” she murmured.
Sam continued, “Tell me everything you can about her, and about my son and your mom.”
Sandy talked. Grezz listened for a bit, then left.
“So, my son is a sheriff,” said Sam, “and that’s okay with your grandmother? My how things have changed. We used to call the police names during our protesting days. How ignorant we were. No culture can live in safety without good guardians. I assume my son is a good one.”
“He is,” said Sandy. She half stood and glanced over at the Lowconz family.
Zeekeng saw her. Sandy smiled, Zeekeng didn’t. He reminded her of the warrior that chased her. Suddenly, he got up and headed her way.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, muscular. He wore a red leather shirt and leggings. His skin was slightly red, his hair and beard black, in braids. His eyes were close-set and dark green, his face and jaws wide. His feet were bare, with claw-like toes.
A wave of fear poured over her. She sat down and squeezed Sam’s hand, her heart pounding.
Zeekeng came up, brushed past her and plopped down beside Sam. Peering into Sandy’s eyes, he put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, leaned over and whispered in Lowconzian. “She look like you.”
“She’s my grandaughter,” replied Sam.
Zeekeng erupted in delight. He grabbed Sandy’s hand, raised it over her head, and stood.
She rose. He’s pulling it out of the socket!
Zeekeng shouted across the pod, “Sam find granddaughter.”
The Lowconz family chattered excitedly. Zeekeng sat again, still holding Sandy’s hand.
Sandy sat. My shoulder hurts.
Sam smiled gently at her, “I told him you’re my granddaughter. He’s happy for us.”
“What made you and him come here, Grandpa?”
“It all began when Zeekeng was young. He had a Snoflian slave, who told him about how the Snoflians live. It was much better than the way the Lowconz live. So he told his father, Skong, about it.
“Go tell that to our tribe,” said Skong.
“Zeekeng tried—idealistic teenager you know—but he couldn’t convince the Lowconz. So he decided to go to Snofliana, learn more, then come back and change things. He planned his trip. He released the Snoflian slave, so that he’d have a friend in Snofliana wh
en he showed up. But, then I came on the scene. He told me about his plan and said he would take me to Snofliana, so I could get back to earth. A few months later, he, his family, his body guards and I set out across the movings.”
“For the Snoflian trading point?” asked Sandy.
“Yes. Then things went bad. Zeekeng’s cousin, Vyldung, had been waiting for Zeekeng to leave. The day after we left, he killed Skong and took over the tribe. Warriors loyal to Skong escaped, caught up with us, and told us about the treachery. Zeekeng was livid. He resolved to get rid of Vyldung, no matter how long it would take.”
“But then Vyldung’s warriors came after you,” said Sandy.
“Yes, he had sent some warriors to kill us. When we fought them off, he sent more. We fought them all the way across the movings. Many of us were injured, many died. On both sides. But Vyldung kept sending more.”
He smiled and squeezed Sandy’s hand. “But this last bunch would have gotten us, if you hadn’t showed up. You saved us!”
Zeekeng still held Sandy’s hand. She had visions of the warrior she had fought, the fangvaulters she had sent off the cliff and the warriors her grandfather had killed. She didn’t feel well. They’re both holding my hands. This is so weird. I cannot believe this is happening. Then she remembered her friends.
She glanced at the door. Where are they?
CHAPTER 44
Somewhere
“AT LAST...SOMEWHERE,” said Neff, when the pod compound appeared over the rise, ahead.
“But where?” asked Notch.
“Wherever,” she said. “It’s better than being nowhere like we were.”
They all stopped in front of the healing pod.
Neff, Notch and Sparky thanked the altivaulters for their help.
Trrad, having no word for thanks, mimicked the humans’ body language and facial expressions.
The altivaulters eyed him, looked at one another and left.
Snezz nodded slightly and left.
Sorzz led Neff, Notch, Sparky and Trrad inside to Sandy, Sam and Zeekeng.
Neff was immediately captivated by Sandy’s thin, elderly grandfather with tired, twinkling eyes who had disappeared years before, and who was now a local legend at Jagged Peak. But she was frightened by the Lowconz sitting beside him. He looks like the dead ones.
What make him different from the others? Notch eyed him. He looks really tough.
Trrad lit up when he saw the Lowconz chief.
Sandy introduced everyone.
Sam introduced Zeekeng.
Zeekeng smiled and nodded to the humans. Then, in Lowconz, he asked Trrad why he was there. For the first time since Trrad left home, he could talk to someone. He told his story. Zeekeng told his. Both were headed to Snofliana. Zeekeng took Trrad to meet his family. Trrad seemed taken with Zeekeng’s older daughter who returned his attention.
Neff watched. I didn’t know Trrad could talk that much.
“They,” said Grezz, pointing to two Snoflian caregivers, “will take you to guest pods. You bathe. Put on guest clothes. We wash your clothes. You eat. Rest. You stay until snowstorm on ocean side stops. Then you go. Sandy, you stay in pod by your friends.”
A caregiver led Neff, Notch and Sparky away. Another waited.
“I can’t wait to see Grandma’s face when she sees you,” said Sandy, holding Sam’s hands.
“Me too,” he said, letting go. “I’ll see you at dinner.” Sandy leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. He kissed her forehead. She left with the caregiver.
Neff bathed and washed her hair, then put on a loose, white pullover, tan pants and soft tan shoes. She pulled her long, blond hair into a ponytail, and went to the adjoining eating pod. The tables were round. The way I like. She sat with Sparky and Notch. Their pants and shoes were tan like hers, their pullovers different. Sparky’s was green and Notch’s blue.
“You guys look nice and clean,” said Neff.
“You too,” said Sparky, sipping juice. Pretty, too.
Notch stretched. “Great bath. Fresh clothes. And, having tested the bed, I’m in for a good night’s sleep.”
Sandy came in, Sam’s arm in hers, both dressed in red pullovers. Sandy’s short, black hair was pushed up in curls. The six sat together. Grezz joined them.
Zeekeng and his wife came in helping his wife’s mother, who moved slowly, and was dressed in purple. Zeekeng’s older daughter, Tyfoona, came in wearing orange, followed by her younger sister, Pizeela, in pink. Trrad, in brown, sat with Typhoona.
Notch dug into the meal of nuts, dried fruits, winter vegetables and tender white meat. “Haven’t had meat since we landed.” He took three helpings. “The meat is really good,” he said. “Tastes like lobster. What is it?”
“Sclagg,” said Grezz, biting into a piece.
Notch looked questioningly at Sam.
“Sclaggs,” said Sam, chewing, “are over-sized arachnids. They live in mountain valleys. Altivaulters catch them in traps like lobster pots and freeze them in ice caves.” He picked up another chunk. “Snoflians buy ‘em frozen. Grill ‘em. Tasty huh? Legs are the most tender.”
“Arachnids?” asked Notch, swallowing, “like, big spiders with gray and white shells?” He gulped some tea.
“Mm,” said Grezz, smiling. “How you know?”
“Saw some,” said Notch, drinking again. He wiped his mouth, pushed his plate away and folded his arms.
Grezz swallowed and said, “Everyone tired. Need sleep.” He left.
The Lowconz and Trrad left. Neff, Notch, Sparky and Sandy said goodnight and headed for their pods. Sandy hugged her grandfather and followed. Everyone fell asleep quickly. Except for Trrad. He stayed awake, reveling in the strange, new comforts of the Snoflian guest pod.
At breakfast, Neff said, “I have a headache.”
“Thin air,” said Notch. “My headache won’t quit. I kept waking up, gasping. I’m beat. How about you guys?”
“Minor problem,” said Sparky.
“Same as you at first. Now I’m good,” said Sandy.
Sparky bolted down breakfast and stepped over to Grezz. “Um, do you think I could try some skiyaks?”
“Mm. Could.”
“Uh, may I try them?”
“Mm,” Grezz nodded to Grell. She slurped the last of her tea and took Sparky to the equipment pod. With Snoflian boots on, he went to find Sandy. She was with Sam.
“I got skiyaks,” he said. “You want to come? Maybe give me some pointers, and check out the area?”
Sandy looked at Sam.
“Go,” said Sam. “Have fun. I’ll be here. I must nap now anyway.”
“Okay. I’ll be back soon.”
Sandy led Sparky down the side of the promontory. It took him no time to learn.
After a more leisurely breakfast, Notch and Neff went to get skiyaks. Tyfoona and Pizeela arrived, but not Trrad. Grell fitted them all with boots and gave them a brief clinic on how the skiyaks worked. Then they joined Sparky and Sandy at lunch. Trrad sat with them, saying little.
“He’s licking his wounds after falling so much yesterday,” said Neff. “Probably doesn’t want to deal with anything more advanced, like Skiyaks.”
“You been on ‘em yet?” asked Sparky.
“Not yet,” said Notch. “Why?”
“You won’t believe it. They crank on a dime. Like nine g’s! Awesome. If you’re not over em, major faceplant.”
The four humans and two Lowconz girls skiyaked up and down both sides of the headland. At one point, three altivaulters flew past on plummetins.
Sparky decided to tackle the steep pitch on the front of the nose. He headed down. Near the bottom, he whipped around a boulder and nearly slid into a herd of huge, hairy white beasts big as cars, plodding single file, long hair dragging in the snow.
He jammed to
a stop. The herd leader turned toward him, braced its legs, billowed its hair and bellowed. The other beasts joined in.
Notch pulled up behind Sparky and blurted, “We better bolt!” He herringboned back up the slope.
Neff and Sandy followed him, trailed by Sparky. Tyfoona and Pizeela stood giggling for a minute, then slowly climbed after the others.
At dinner, Notch described the encounter, “I think Tyfoona and Pizeela know something about those beasties that we don’t.”
Grezz laughed. “Our har herd.”
“Har herd?” asked Notch.
“Mm,” said Grezz, smiling, grabbing a piece of sclagg. He took a bite and nodded to Sam. “You tell.”
“The Snoflians and the Lowconz use hars,” said Sam, “to haul stuff, and to ski behind for fun.”
“Like skijoring behind a horse?” asked Sparky.
“Or ‘harjoring’ behind a har,” offered Notch.
“Exactly,” said Sam. “Hars love to run. Strong legs. Feet like snowshoes. Big chests. Not too smart. But fast. Great fun.”
“So, they only look tough?” asked Notch.
“Yes,” said Sam. “They puff up and make a lot of noise.”
“Sort of like some politicians,” said Neff.
“You think we can try, uh, harjoring,” asked Sparky?”
“Mm. In morning,” replied Grezz, chewing.
“Yesss!” Sparky made a fist. “Who’s up for this?”
“I’d like to,” said Sandy, touching Sam’s arm, “but I really want to spend tomorrow with my grandfather.”
“I’ll pass,” said Notch, “I want to look around.” He eyed the strange computer in the corner and its green connection. Find out how things work.
“No thanks,” said Neff. “I want to be with Mollie.”
“Give me a moment, Sparky,” said Sam, limping over to the Lowconz table.
A minute later, “You’ve got a taker, Sparky,” said Sam, “Tyfoona will go with you. She’s actually very skilled. You’ll be surprised.”
The Snowy Page 17