by H. S. Norup
The keyhole of the lock on the cage door was rusty, and the big old-fashioned key wouldn’t turn. Water dripped onto her fingers—a mixture of melting snow, sweat and tears of frustration.
“Help me, Felix,” she screeched.
He pushed her aside and bent down there for a while, wiggling and jiggling the mechanism until something clicked, and the key turned. After he opened the hatch, Tessa crawled into the small space. She shook Maeg gently and searched for a pulse. Not even the slightest vibration quivered in the barbegazi’s lifeless body.
Iron bars on the floor cut into Tessa’s knees. Maeg had lain on them all week. No wonder she was paralysed.
“Is she hibernating?” Tessa asked, but of course she knew barbegazi slept during the summer.
Carefully, she scooped the limp body up and backed out of the iron cage. Maeg’s lightness surprised her—she weighed less than Lisa’s cat. Felix stood outside, and she handed Maeg to him, before she jumped to the ground.
“Let’s get her in the rucksack.” Felix handled the fur bundle like Oma handled the china she’d inherited from her own grandmother.
They quickly discovered, however, that they couldn’t get Maeg into the rucksack without her sinking to the bottom, where she wouldn’t be able to breathe. If she still needed to breathe.
But if they carried her in their arms, they’d be walking through the village with a barbegazi in plain sight! And they’d be moving much slower than on their bikes. If only they could get a ride in a car. If only—
“Come on, Tessa. We have to go.”
“One sec. I have to think.” She closed her eyes. The sound of a passing car on the main road could be heard above the noise from the river. No whistles.
There was something she’d overlooked. It was something about a car. Mum’s car? Uncle Harry’s car? No. The professor’s car… His van, right here in the deserted sawmill.
Suddenly she realized there was a hole in her plan.
“If Gawion succeeds…” At the twinge of doubt, she crossed her fingers for luck. “Bahne’s memory will be wiped of everything that has happened this week. He’ll not remember where he parked.”
“Can’t we just tell him? Or call the police about a stolen vehicle, like in the back-up plan?”
“No. We don’t want him to be suspicious. I broke through Gawion’s memory charm. In a dream. Without trying to.” Gawion had told her the barbegazi only had little magic. He still hadn’t whistled. What if, while they freed Maeg, Bahne captured her family?
How could she have ever imagined this plan would work? Her brilliant plan had a gaping hole, and that hole was growing into an abyss.
Tessa’s luck had run out.
“What do we do?” she said, not even trying to hide her panic.
—39—
The iron chain and the metal buckle swung towards him. Gawion’s eyes followed them as the elf hunter drew nearer. Left or right? Over or under? Forward or—
He swirled and dived backwards into the wall of snow. His enormous, long feet paddled in the air like parallel wings. They propelled him deep into crusty snow. He had escaped.
“Ow!” A hard slap, followed by a stinging, burning pain, travelled the length of his left foot and up his leg. He thrashed with his right foot, digging and sending a spray of icy crystals backwards. But no matter how much he kicked, he could not move forward. Something was holding him back. And he felt weaker.
He continued spraying snow behind him while he enlarged the tunnel with his uninjured hand. And then, looking back, he saw the iron chain. Looped round his left foot, it bit deep into his fur. Even worse, it must be digging into the sensitive skin of his soles. The taut chain stretched out of the tunnel into a pair of human hands, just visible in the hole.
He tried to wiggle out of the chain—it was not fastened—but his foot did not respond. His whole leg was now as sore as his walloping arm. If he used his good hand to remove the chain, he would be left with only one functioning limb. But if he made the chain go slack, it might loosen the hold on his foot. As much as he hated the idea, he had to move back, towards the elf hunter.
Gawion kicked violently with his right leg, pushing a load of icy snow at the human. Then he shifted the angle of his left leg and paddled backwards. He slapped the elf hunter’s head with his good foot before he pulled himself back into the tunnel. Had it worked? His left foot remained senseless, but he kept going, unsure of his success until his hand met the hard crust immediately below the surface.
Not completely on purpose, he had dug a zigzagging tunnel—controlling direction with one leg was difficult. When he emerged above the snow, he lay for a while, massaging his left foot with lumps of icy flakes. His walloping arm throbbed and prickled, like the time he had fallen over a cliff into a cluster of snow-dusted brambles. If only he had some blackberries to restore his energy.
“Barbegazi!” the elf hunter called from the hole nearby. “If you help me out of here, I will not harm you. And I will let your sister go.”
As if it had any bargaining power! Gawion stood up on his good leg. His injured foot still burned. When he set it down on the snow, it prickled worse than those thorns from the brambles, and the leg collapsed under his weight. Somehow he stayed standing.
Perhaps he could imitate the strange one-wooden-footed humans he had seen surfing sideways on the slopes.
“Tessa has freed my sister,” he said. Had Tessa freed Maeg? Was it waiting for his signal? He could whistle now. That was bound to bring Papa. But his task was not done yet, and if he could manage to complete it without Papa’s help… His walloping arm did feel a lot better.
Hopping around on one foot exposed him, so he let himself fall forward. On his stomach, he wiggled to the hole and peeked over the rim.
The metal buckle, with its animal-skin tail, whizzed past his ear.
“Try again, elf hunter!” he called, hoping to goad it into hurling the iron chain.
The human swung the chain. Gawion clambered back. The chain dug into the overhanging snow, tearing fluffy chunks down over the human.
Unfortunately, it was not foolish enough to let go of the chain.
He crept back to the rim. The human stood in the centre—swinging the chain, turning slowly, staring at the top of the walls—prepared for an attack.
Gawion retreated and dug a short tunnel that stopped just before breaking into the hole. After he returned to the surface, he watched the human make five turns, while he counted in his head.
The elf hunter made one fatal mistake: it kept the speed and direction of its turning constant.
Gawion, still counting, dived into the prepared tunnel and out through the thin snow barrier. With a forceful swipe of his recovered arm, he walloped the elf hunter from behind.
This time he proceeded without hesitation. While he spoke the charm, his fingertips pushed against its temples and his beard hid its stunned expression. A pleasant tingle travelled up his arms, as the elf hunter’s recent memories evaporated.
FROM HABITS & HABITATS: A HISTORIC ACCOUNT OF ALPINE ELVES BY PROFESSOR, DR EBERHART LUDWIG FRITZ BAHNE
The only known instance of barbegazi surviving more than a few weeks in captivity is recorded by a zookeeper’s daughter in Vienna’s Tiergarten Schönbrunn.
In a diary entry from January 1862, the girl, Anne, mentions that the avalanche of barbegazi, which had been in the zoological gardens since shortly after the opening of the imperial menagerie in 1752, had escaped during a blizzard.
No one understood how their barred iron cage had been opened. I, of course, revealed nothing, she writes, leading to a belief that she had a hand in their escape.
A February entry strengthens suspicions of a conspiracy. As I promised Aeglosben, I have destroyed the barbegazi notebooks my father inherited from his predecessors.
This blatant disregard for unique scientific insight explains why no accounts have been found of where the barbegazi were kept during the summer months, or their dietary needs.
/> —40—
“I’ll get Dad to tell the professor where he parked,” Felix said. “We’ll invent a reason. Just come on, Tessa.”
The adrenaline that had surged through her body all day was used up. The light bundle in her arms had become as heavy as her tired legs. She couldn’t face running all the way back to the main road and uphill through the village to Felix’s house. And what if the sight that met them there was a sneering elf hunter, with a chain around an avalanche of barbegazi?
“Now.” Felix pulled at her sleeve.
They really had to go. She took two tentative steps.
Just then, a piercing whistle reverberated in the valley.
She looked up at Felix.
It was Gawion’s whistle. He had succeeded!
The shrill sound roused her. In seconds, her brain filled the gaping hole in her plan with possible solutions. One of them just might work.
Words tumbled out of her mouth: “You have that racing-car computer game, right? And you help your grandfather with the harvest. You can drive a tractor, can’t you?”
“What’re you getting at?” Felix looked back at the van. “No way. If I scratch it… Oh, man…” Holding his hands up, he took rapid breaths. “Okay, I’ll try, okay? But no one can see us.”
“They won’t. Tinted windows, remember?”
They sprinted to the van. Its engine roared when Felix pressed a button. He adjusted the seat and surveyed the knobs and levers. His hands gripped the steering wheel, the strain visible on his white knuckles, in the light from the instrument panel. Tessa relaxed her own grip on the cold body she was holding, and cradled Maeg in her arms.
“Here goes,” Felix muttered. The vehicle sprang forward and rolled along the track out of the old sawmill. Where the track ended, he hesitated before he slowly drove up the main road, staring straight ahead. A car behind them honked. When they turned onto the steep curving road to the village, it didn’t follow.
“We need to get the berries from my house,” Tessa said.
“No, Tessa. I’m sure Mum has—”
“And you’re going to march in and take them?”
Felix didn’t answer, but drove down Tessa’s street.
“Be quick,” he said, as she opened the door.
Leaving Maeg on her seat, she ran to the house, pulling the keys from her pocket. She entered, and, without closing the door, without turning on the lights, ran downstairs in her boots and grabbed a bag of mixed forest berries.
It was only after she had closed the freezer that she noticed the absolute silence. The ticks from the grandfather clock had stopped. No one had been winding it, that was all—surely it meant nothing else. Her fingers found the hole in the paper tissue and touched the snowflake, then she took a deep breath, willing the wave of fear away.
Outside, Felix had turned the vehicle around, and she’d just reached it when someone called, “Tes-sa!”
By the first house on Tessa’s street, stood Lisa. With Maria. “We wanted to ask if you—”
“I don’t have time now,” Tessa shouted. She jumped inside while Felix lifted Maeg. “Go. Just go,” she said, taking the fur bundle and hugging it to her chest.
“Hey! Isn’t that the van…” The rest of what Lisa was saying was drowned out as Felix accelerated up the street.
Without scratching anything, Felix parked behind his house, by the large pine tree. Gawion wasn’t there yet. They sat in silence for a moment, the lifeless bundle warm in Tessa’s arms. The few times Gawion had touched her, the icy shock had given her goose pimples.
“She’s not cold,” Tessa screamed. She sprang out of the van, placed Maeg on the white ground underneath the tree, and began scooping snow over her. They had to cool her down if they were going to find a spark of life and revive her.
If there was life.
“Let me do that,” Felix said. “Give her some berries.”
Tessa pushed Maeg’s beard aside and tried to squeeze a berry into her mouth. A tiny blueberry made it through her clenched lips.
Nothing happened.
Frantically, Felix packed more snow around the small creature. Tessa spilled berries out onto the ground, in her haste to find another miniature one.
“Why’s nothing happening? We’re too late, Felix!” she said, sinking back on her heels.
Maeg’s eyelids fluttered.
They watched, holding their breath, as she swallowed the blueberry.
Tessa exhaled. Maeg was alive.
The little mouth opened and closed, like a baby’s searching for milk, and Tessa fed berries into it.
“Maeg,” she whispered. “Don’t be afraid. Gawion will be here soon.”
Maeg blinked. In the gloomy light her dark eyes darted back and forth between Tessa and Felix. Faster than Tessa could feed her, she devoured the berries.
Close by, they heard running footsteps and Lisa calling out.
“Tes-sa! Where are you? Are you okay?” She had stopped by the van in a spot where the twigs didn’t quite cover their hiding place.
They scrambled to sit in front of the barbegazi, and the sucking noises she’d made ceased. Tessa got up by putting a hand on Felix’s shoulder. She pushed him slightly backwards, and hoped he understood that he had to stay and shield Maeg. Careful to block the opening to their shelter, she pushed through the branches out to Lisa.
“Where’s Maria?”
“Waiting for me by the bus stop. What’re you doing in there?” Lisa craned her neck to peek behind Tessa.
Could she trust her? She’d so wanted for Lisa to believe her. It would be amazing if they could share the secret of the barbegazi and become best friends again.
But Gawion trusted her. And she trusted herself, now that she knew the barbegazi existed. Perhaps that was enough. Perhaps that was why Opa had never cared if people laughed at him behind his back. Because it was enough that he knew.
“It’s nothing,” she said. “Just a little surprise for a guest.”
Lisa pointed.
“And the van—”
“Has been found,” Tessa interrupted. “Thanks for looking for it. Anyway—”
“D’you want to come to my house? We can watch the fireworks together.”
“What? Now?” Lisa couldn’t have picked a worse time. Why now? Was it because she’d been on the podium? “I have to finish this, erm…”
“Or tomorrow. Whenever you want. I’ll even help you look for those elves.”
“Maybe. Thanks.” It would be so easy to show Maeg to Lisa.
“Bye then…” Lisa’s hand rested on Tessa’s arm, before she turned and walked away.
Tessa looked after her until she rounded the corner.
As soon as Lisa was gone, a low whistle sounded nearby.
From underneath the tree, Maeg whistled in answer.
Felix crawled out into the open, gasping, and the strangest thing Tessa had ever seen came into view, behind him. Gawion and another barbegazi carried the professor on their shoulders, as if he were a decaying log. They also threw him on the ground like a log, and Bahne rolled twice before coming to a stop by his van’s back wheels.
“Out of my sight, elf hunter,” said a voice much deeper than Gawion’s. The stocky barbegazi cast a fleeting glance at them before he ducked under the branches of the pine tree.
“Papa,” Maeg peeped.
Gawion smiled. “The elf hunter’s heavy,” he said, nodding towards the white heap. “Good thing Papa came when I whistled my long-distance signal.”
A bark announced the arrival of Brownie. Gawion answered with barks of his own.
“Good dog.” Felix rubbed the big dog’s pleated neck.
Brownie and Gawion barked some short laughter-like coughs, and Felix stared open-mouthed from one to the other.
When Gawion barked again, Brownie sped off.
“What did you tell him? I’ve never seen him run so fast,” Tessa said.
“I wanted to present him to my father. But Papa is fearful of
dogs, and I might have confused the barks for scared and scary.” Gawion shook his head. “The local Dog dialect is tricky…”
Bahne moaned.
“We’d better get him away from here,” Felix said. “Help me, Tessa.”
Somehow they got the professor upright. He was humming a tune. Tessa sneaked the chain over his head, and Felix put the car key back in his pocket, while they supported him to the front door.
“Take me home,” Bahne sang out, and hiccuped. “Country roooaaads.”
At the top of the steps, they let go, and he slumped, then slid down onto the bottom step. Felix rang the doorbell until Aunt Annie appeared.
“What’s this racket?” She saw Bahne and frowned.
He leant against the steps and bent his head back until he could see her upside-down, then he broke out in song again. “Mu-mu-mummy… take me home.”
“Mr Bahne,” Aunt Annie said, her cheeks flushing a deep red. “I had not expected this kind of behaviour from you.” She marched down and tugged hard on his arm. “Felix, let’s get this drunk to his room.”
Tessa watched them hobble up the stairs. Aunt Annie was ranting about alcohol, and skis being stolen if you left them outside bars, and proper behaviour. Bahne kept humming and singing “Take me home”. His voice wasn’t bad.
Just as she started back towards Gawion from the front steps, a car pulled up next to her. Mum jumped out and hugged her, laughing and crying at the same time.
“It’s a miracle,” she squealed. “Oma’s so much better. She might not even need the surgery.” Mum held Tessa in her outstretched arms and smiled. “Your little crossword puzzle cheered her up immensely! Perhaps you can make her another?”
Tessa nodded and wiped a tear away. In her mind, she began laying Scrabble tiles for barbegazi, rescue, snowflake, stamina, and all the other things she wanted Oma to know. Fitting everything into one secret message was going to be difficult.
