Chapter IX, Reading 4

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Flindra slowly returned to consciousness and realized she was still in the crystal cavern. Her orb burned painfully in her hand for her incredible experience had channeled unimaginable energy through the crystal. Even so, she clutched it in a death grip for the crystal seemed to be an anchor rooting her to reality.

She had fallen from the cushion into a twisted heap on the floor. Pain radiated from every part of her body. Flindra pushed her legs from beneath her body. Movement intensified her agony, but move she must. Gripping the sides of the cave, she forced herself to stand and clung to the wall for a moment before her knees gave way and she collapsed. Overcome by a wave of nauseating vertigo, she retched until there was nothing left to vomit. When she finally gained control of her stomach, she stood and managed to keep her feet. She paused until she was steady enough to move and then she stumbled out of the cave like a wounded animal.

Flindra was only aware she had to find Kewero. This was the thought, which kept her moving up the passage from the crystal cave. Her body moved out of habit for her mind and will weren't yet focused enough for action. Finally, she reached the upper caverns.

"Kewero," she called, but her voice sounded strange and distant - not quite her own. She stumbled toward her bedchamber, not knowing where else to go.

Flindra saw Kewero moving to her. She seemed to be walking oddly, jerking back and forth. Flindra didn't realize she was the one who was staggering like a drunk. She couldn't understand why Kewero was speaking in some strange tongue. She could hear words but she couldn't make sense of anything. The world was moving out of focus - everything was swimming before her eyes. She saw the floor moving closer; she felt the cool stone on her face; she knew no more.

Chapter VIII, Reading 5

There was no need to retrace her steps on her return to Kewero. She knew where she was and decided to take a different way back. That would increase her odds of finding game. She rode Deru out of the small valley and felt the full blast of the north wind when she made the rim.

Deru was not pleased to be walking into the wind and protested by turning his head around and nibbling at her boot toe.

"I know," she said with a laugh. "I don't like it either." She gave him a bit more leg to force him on.

After riding for half a mile, they intersected another valley, which headed in the general direction she needed to take to return to Kewero. Both were relieved to descend into the valley and to escape the fiercest bite of the wind.

This valley was deeper than it initially looked from the rim. A small brook flowed along the valley floor. At least it flowed in the summer. Now, it was only a ribbon of ice. The banks of the brook were choked with a heavy growth of willow scrub, which would provide good cover for any wildlife taking shelter there.

Drawing from her experience hunting at the higher elevations of the Greyfell Mountains, Flindra knew that the presence of the willow scrub meant that this was good habitat for ptarmigan. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it so she would be ready to fire off a quick shot. If there were any ptarmigans here they would have been alerted to her presence and were now in hiding. The birds would have their winter plumage and would be difficult to see against the background of the snow.

She turned upstream for this was the way to Kewero. Her chances of finding game would be just as good this way and there was little point in riding away. That would only make for a longer trip home, which was not a comforting prospect in this cold.

Deru was the first to discover the presence of potential game. He had a good nose and was used to hunting with his mistress. He stopped with his ears facing toward a dense clump of willow growth some twenty feet ahead.

Without a noise, Flindra raised her bow and scanned the area for any sign of life. The wind was toying with the naked branches and scattered leaves on the ground. There were several white feathers caught along a branch close to the ground. The wind moved these feathers like a flag announcing the presence of the ptarmigan. It was as if the wind was purposefully betraying the position of the hidden bird.

Even with the wind pointing the direction, it still took her a moment to spot the ptarmigan. Its camouflage was excellent and the bird knew that by keeping still it melted into the background.

Knowing that the bird wouldn't move and reveal its hiding place, Flindra dismounted and walked around the spot so she could get a better shot. It was a waste to kill an animal with a careless shot, which could destroy the meat. Killing to eat was one of the few reasons she felt could justify the death of one of Spirit's creatures.

When she had the best shot possible, she froze in position. She wanted the bird to become less wary for it had been following her movements as she circled. If the ptarmigan relaxed it might raise its head, which would give her a clear shot at the neck. A neck shot would provide a quick death and wouldn't waste any valuable meat. With the patience she had learned from her father and brother, she waited, still as stone, hoping the ptarmigan would forget her presence.

After a wait of about ten minutes, the bird finally relaxed and stood to return to its foraging. The instant it stood, she loosed her arrow and caught it just below its head. It was a good, clean shot and she smiled proudly. Roasted ptarmigan would provide a fine meal for Kewero and herself. She walked over to it and field dressed it on the spot. It was better to share the kill with other animals rather than waste any food. At home, she had always given the entrails to her dogs so there was little wasted from a kill.

Finishing her task, she picked the bird up and retrieved her arrow. It hadn't been damaged and would serve her another day. Then she returned to Deru, tied the ptarmigan to her saddle, slipped the arrow back into her quiver, and mounted. It was time to return to her mentor.

Chapter V, Reading 5

By late afternoon, Flindra had seen no signs of a dwelling.  She had hoped she could have reached Kewero before nightfall.  She wasn't looking forward to sleeping out in the open tonight.  It was dangerous to stay out too long in this kind of cold and wind.

The numbing cold had gotten worse as the afternoon had progressed.  Flindra wiggled her toes in her boots in an effort to keep them warm.  Her bones ached from the daylong exposure to the frigid wind.  She was aware that Deru also suffered in the cold.  His steps were growing stiffer by the hour.
"If we don't stumble across the old woman soon we're going to have to seek shelter from this wind," Flindra said as she reached forward and stroked Deru's neck.

Darkness approached and it became very apparent they would not reach Kewero this day.  Flindra needed to find wood for a fire and preferably some shelter from the wind.  She finally found a tree that had been blown over.  This would provide wood for her fire and a little protection from the wind.

Flindra loosened the girth of the saddle but left it on to give Deru some protection from the wind.  The saddle would also keep the blankets from blowing off.  She put the last of her grain in the feed bag, put it over his nose, and let him seek what shelter he could find from the north wind.

She took a small hatchet she'd kept tied behind the cantle and started chopping branches from the downed tree.  When Flindra had enough to last her through the night she started to pick up the small pieces which had fallen to the ground for tinder to start the fire.  She then carried the wood towards the bottom of the tree.

When the tree had been blown over, it had pulled up a chunk of ground with its tangled root system.  This shallow berm was the only shelter Flindra had from the wind and thus it was the best place to make her fire.

The wind teased her as it blew out the tiny sparks from her flint before they could start the tinder on fire.  Flindra wrapped her body around the tinder to provide some protection from the wind.  After many tries, she finally got a spark to ignite the small chips of wood.  She nursed the flickering flame along - slowly adding more fuel until it burned with an intensity that the wind could not extinguish.

Flindra usually made small fires to minimize the notice of unfriendly eyes.  Tonight she ignored that precaution.  She needed all the warmth she could get from the fire to survive a night with the frozen north wind as a companion.  She would have to trust the power of Rigga to protect her from danger tonight.

Dawn was long in coming as Flindra hovered near the fire.  She dozed occasionally as the night passed but she had to stay awake most of the time to keep the fire going.  She remembered happy times from her childhood to warm her heart even as her body ached from the cold.  She knew the value of diverting her thoughts to better endure unpleasant situations.

Normally, Flindra would pack up her camp and be on her way by daybreak.  This morning, she lingered by her fire until the sun eased the worst of the bitter cold of the pre-dawn hours.  She finally tied her belongings to Deru's saddle and continued on her way.

Flindra rode hour after hour across the desolate plain.  Her mind became numb after hours of the dreary sameness.  There weren't even trees anymore to break the monotony of the landscape.  Moreover, it was cold, so very cold.  She huddled in the saddle to keep her cloak as close to her body as possible.  Her toes ached as she wiggled them to keep them from freezing.  The pain eventually spread from her feet into her legs.  She pulled her feet from the stirrups so she could move her legs too.  She wondered at times if she would ever be warm again.

By mid-afternoon, Flindra noticed a change in the landscape.  This part of the Northern Reaches was not as flat as it appeared from a distance.  The plain was intersected by a number of narrow and deep gullies and small valleys.  The crystal sphere suddenly started to vibrate and Flindra reached into her tunic and withdrew the orb.  It was clear the crystal was directing her towards the entrance to one of these small valleys.

"Let's hope we are getting close, Deru," she said as she slipped the orb back into her tunic.  "I'm tired," she confessed to the horse, "and I know you are, too."

She reined Deru into the valley.  She rode for several miles and suddenly felt the orb grow still and cold.  Before she could reach into her tunic, she heard a voice call, "Welcome to my home Princess Flindra."