Read Online The Raven and the Reindeer by T. Kingfisher - Free Book Online
Authors: T. Kingfisher
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there.”
Gerta blinked.
It occurred to her, rather sluggishly, that she might not freeze to death. This was an interesting idea, although she did not have much energy left to be interested.
“You can cut some branches to perch on,” said Mousebones. “And then we’ll roost together, so we don’t freeze to death, and I will be on my very best behavior and won’t pluck out even one eye.”
He sounded as if he were making a great sacrifice, and Gerta choked out a laugh. The cold inside her thawed a tiny bit.
The bushes were only a little way down the road, nearly covered in drifting snow. They were white lumps on white ground and she had to look carefully to see them.
“Odin’s forehead,” grumbled Mousebones. “Aurk! They were green when I saw them before. It’s coming down hard.”
The bushes were barely waist high, but it was enough. Gerta pulled her knife and hacked off a half-dozen branches from the bottom of the largest. They were some kind of low evergreen—junipers, she thought. The smell, even through the cold, was sharp and clean.
Mousebones flapped and bounced in the snow while she excavated a gap in the bushes. She laid the branches down on the ground to provide an inch of insulation between her and the snow, then crawled underneath the bush.
It was still cold, but being out of the wind made a startling difference. Snow still slid from the branches overhead every time Gerta moved, but presumably it would settle down eventually. She pulled her hood low over her face and tucked her knees up.
Mousebones hopped inside and climbed up on her shoulder. “Not the best night roost,” he grumbled. “I’ve seen better.”
“Sorry,” said Gerta. “It’s what we’ve got.”
“Aurk.”
She was very tired. She ate a few bites of food and drank a few swallows of water. When the village children were taught what to do if you were trapped out in the snow, their teachers had always been very clear that you had to keep eating and drinking or you would die much faster.
Gerta sighed. She did not know if she had done it right. They talked about snow caves and this was a little like a cave but she had never actually built one for real. She didn’t know if she’d wake up with dead toes or if she’d even wake up at all.
Junipers were supposed to be tough. Her grandmother said that the family was made of juniper, stubborn right down to the bone. She did not feel particularly tough or stubborn or anything else.
“Aurk!” said Mousebones. “Stop fidgeting.”
“Sorry,” said Gerta. She tucked her hands into her armpits. Will they find my body in the spring thaw…?
It was her last thought before she fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
She dreamed the dreams of evergreens with snow on them. The air smelled sharply of resin. A woman rode by her, on a grey horse that stumbled. She was talking to herself, or to the horse, but the language was strange.
Gerta would have liked to follow the woman, to see if she knew where to take shelter from the snow, but she and the horse vanished into the trees, hidden by the snow. Gerta sighed.
The snow began to melt around her. It ran in rivulets over last year’s leaves. Pale green needles flushed out on the tips of the branches.
“Spring?” said Gerta. She turned.
A child was staring at her from beside a tree trunk, a child with pasty, swollen skin. It had blank black eyes, the pupils grotesquely dilated, a thin rim of iris around them. It stared at her with its mouth hanging open.
Gerta jerked back, revolted, and woke herself up.
“Aurk!” said Mousebones, flapping for purchase on her shoulder. One wing clipped her on the back of the head. “Aurk! What was that?”
“Nightmare,” said Gerta. Was that her own dream, or the junipers? She couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
“I should say so. You squawked like a jay with her egg being stolen.”
Gerta scrubbed a hand over her face. It was still wet from her
Gerta blinked.
It occurred to her, rather sluggishly, that she might not freeze to death. This was an interesting idea, although she did not have much energy left to be interested.
“You can cut some branches to perch on,” said Mousebones. “And then we’ll roost together, so we don’t freeze to death, and I will be on my very best behavior and won’t pluck out even one eye.”
He sounded as if he were making a great sacrifice, and Gerta choked out a laugh. The cold inside her thawed a tiny bit.
The bushes were only a little way down the road, nearly covered in drifting snow. They were white lumps on white ground and she had to look carefully to see them.
“Odin’s forehead,” grumbled Mousebones. “Aurk! They were green when I saw them before. It’s coming down hard.”
The bushes were barely waist high, but it was enough. Gerta pulled her knife and hacked off a half-dozen branches from the bottom of the largest. They were some kind of low evergreen—junipers, she thought. The smell, even through the cold, was sharp and clean.
Mousebones flapped and bounced in the snow while she excavated a gap in the bushes. She laid the branches down on the ground to provide an inch of insulation between her and the snow, then crawled underneath the bush.
It was still cold, but being out of the wind made a startling difference. Snow still slid from the branches overhead every time Gerta moved, but presumably it would settle down eventually. She pulled her hood low over her face and tucked her knees up.
Mousebones hopped inside and climbed up on her shoulder. “Not the best night roost,” he grumbled. “I’ve seen better.”
“Sorry,” said Gerta. “It’s what we’ve got.”
“Aurk.”
She was very tired. She ate a few bites of food and drank a few swallows of water. When the village children were taught what to do if you were trapped out in the snow, their teachers had always been very clear that you had to keep eating and drinking or you would die much faster.
Gerta sighed. She did not know if she had done it right. They talked about snow caves and this was a little like a cave but she had never actually built one for real. She didn’t know if she’d wake up with dead toes or if she’d even wake up at all.
Junipers were supposed to be tough. Her grandmother said that the family was made of juniper, stubborn right down to the bone. She did not feel particularly tough or stubborn or anything else.
“Aurk!” said Mousebones. “Stop fidgeting.”
“Sorry,” said Gerta. She tucked her hands into her armpits. Will they find my body in the spring thaw…?
It was her last thought before she fell asleep.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
She dreamed the dreams of evergreens with snow on them. The air smelled sharply of resin. A woman rode by her, on a grey horse that stumbled. She was talking to herself, or to the horse, but the language was strange.
Gerta would have liked to follow the woman, to see if she knew where to take shelter from the snow, but she and the horse vanished into the trees, hidden by the snow. Gerta sighed.
The snow began to melt around her. It ran in rivulets over last year’s leaves. Pale green needles flushed out on the tips of the branches.
“Spring?” said Gerta. She turned.
A child was staring at her from beside a tree trunk, a child with pasty, swollen skin. It had blank black eyes, the pupils grotesquely dilated, a thin rim of iris around them. It stared at her with its mouth hanging open.
Gerta jerked back, revolted, and woke herself up.
“Aurk!” said Mousebones, flapping for purchase on her shoulder. One wing clipped her on the back of the head. “Aurk! What was that?”
“Nightmare,” said Gerta. Was that her own dream, or the junipers? She couldn’t tell the difference anymore.
“I should say so. You squawked like a jay with her egg being stolen.”
Gerta scrubbed a hand over her face. It was still wet from her
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