cawing irritably.
“Um. He says he’s not doing this any more. If you won’t listen to another human tell you the truth, you’re an…addled egg that shouldn’t hatch.”
The sound of Janna’s laughter was loud and exuberant, even through the muffling effect of the snow. “Does he, now? That’s the sort of thing I’d expect. He used to peck at me when I tried to check on his wing.”
She put her hands on her knees and leaned forward. “Well. I suppose I am obliged to believe that either you are telling the truth, or you are some kind of witch, and I do not believe that a witch would let herself be caught so easily. So. You can speak to ravens. Interesting.”
“One raven anyway,” said Gerta. “I haven’t tried any of the others.” Janna laughed again.
The pigeon coop looked to be half falling down, but the door was solid in its frame. Janna scraped aside the snow blocking it with her boot and pushed it inward.
Soft cooing greeted her, and a grunt that definitely did not come from a pigeon.
Gerta followed her inside.
Perches ran across the wall on one side. Birds lined it, fluffed up and cooing. Those highest up were silent and still.
On the other side, there were no perches. Instead there was a reindeer.
Gerta stared.
It was old. She could see that, even knowing nothing of reindeer. The bones of its face were fine and sharp, the skin stretched tight over them. Its muzzle was white and its eyes were cloudy.
“Rescued him from a trader,” said Janna shortly. “He’s too old to haul a load like he used to, but the damn fool was beating him. By the time we were done, all that man’s goods would fit in a backpack he could carry himself.” She smiled grimly.
“Good,” said Gerta, and was surprised at her own anger. “ Good.”
She crouched down and offered the reindeer her hand, as if it were a strange dog. The animal looked at her with its filmy eyes, then stretched out its neck. It breathed gently into the palm of her hand.
Janna cursed. Gerta looked up, startled.
“Frozen,” said the other girl grimly. “Right on the perches. Oh, damn. I thought it would be warm enough. It’s always been warm enough. What happened?”
She stroked one of the silent birds on the top perch, and Gerta saw that it was dead.
The Snow Queen happened, thought Gerta. My dream last night. The Snow Queen passed over, and froze them.
She did not wish to say this right now. She scratched the reindeer’s forehead instead, and it sighed.
There were four dead birds, and two that were stupefied with cold. Janna took the dead ones down and set them on their backs in the snow outside the door. The other pigeons cooed and flapped their wings. The dazed ones sat in silent, stupid misery.
Janna crouched over the two injured ones, frowning. When she stretched their wings out, they shed feathers from wings patched white with frost.
“What a mess,” she muttered. “I can’t fix this.”
“Where do they come from?” asked Gerta.
“I find them, mostly,” said Janna. “Sometimes traders carry them. There’s good eating on a pigeon, and they’ll last in a cage for awhile. But mostly they fall out of trees and I pick them up. They’re not bright.”
“What will you do with them?” asked Gerta. “Will you kill them?”
“Kill them?” Janna looked surprised, then amused. A smile crossed her lips as she looked at Gerta. It was not entirely kind.
She stood up and took a step forward, then another. Gerta backed away, suddenly nervous, but the coop was small and there was a doorframe in her back.
Janna was taller than she was, a good deal taller. Taller than Kay, it occurred to her. Gerta had to look up to meet the robber girl’s eyes.
“What you’re really asking,” said Janna, her voice quite gentle, “is will I kill you?”
Gerta swallowed hard.
Janna tilted her head. She was standing very close. Gerta could feel the doorframe digging into her shoulder, the
“Um. He says he’s not doing this any more. If you won’t listen to another human tell you the truth, you’re an…addled egg that shouldn’t hatch.”
The sound of Janna’s laughter was loud and exuberant, even through the muffling effect of the snow. “Does he, now? That’s the sort of thing I’d expect. He used to peck at me when I tried to check on his wing.”
She put her hands on her knees and leaned forward. “Well. I suppose I am obliged to believe that either you are telling the truth, or you are some kind of witch, and I do not believe that a witch would let herself be caught so easily. So. You can speak to ravens. Interesting.”
“One raven anyway,” said Gerta. “I haven’t tried any of the others.” Janna laughed again.
The pigeon coop looked to be half falling down, but the door was solid in its frame. Janna scraped aside the snow blocking it with her boot and pushed it inward.
Soft cooing greeted her, and a grunt that definitely did not come from a pigeon.
Gerta followed her inside.
Perches ran across the wall on one side. Birds lined it, fluffed up and cooing. Those highest up were silent and still.
On the other side, there were no perches. Instead there was a reindeer.
Gerta stared.
It was old. She could see that, even knowing nothing of reindeer. The bones of its face were fine and sharp, the skin stretched tight over them. Its muzzle was white and its eyes were cloudy.
“Rescued him from a trader,” said Janna shortly. “He’s too old to haul a load like he used to, but the damn fool was beating him. By the time we were done, all that man’s goods would fit in a backpack he could carry himself.” She smiled grimly.
“Good,” said Gerta, and was surprised at her own anger. “ Good.”
She crouched down and offered the reindeer her hand, as if it were a strange dog. The animal looked at her with its filmy eyes, then stretched out its neck. It breathed gently into the palm of her hand.
Janna cursed. Gerta looked up, startled.
“Frozen,” said the other girl grimly. “Right on the perches. Oh, damn. I thought it would be warm enough. It’s always been warm enough. What happened?”
She stroked one of the silent birds on the top perch, and Gerta saw that it was dead.
The Snow Queen happened, thought Gerta. My dream last night. The Snow Queen passed over, and froze them.
She did not wish to say this right now. She scratched the reindeer’s forehead instead, and it sighed.
There were four dead birds, and two that were stupefied with cold. Janna took the dead ones down and set them on their backs in the snow outside the door. The other pigeons cooed and flapped their wings. The dazed ones sat in silent, stupid misery.
Janna crouched over the two injured ones, frowning. When she stretched their wings out, they shed feathers from wings patched white with frost.
“What a mess,” she muttered. “I can’t fix this.”
“Where do they come from?” asked Gerta.
“I find them, mostly,” said Janna. “Sometimes traders carry them. There’s good eating on a pigeon, and they’ll last in a cage for awhile. But mostly they fall out of trees and I pick them up. They’re not bright.”
“What will you do with them?” asked Gerta. “Will you kill them?”
“Kill them?” Janna looked surprised, then amused. A smile crossed her lips as she looked at Gerta. It was not entirely kind.
She stood up and took a step forward, then another. Gerta backed away, suddenly nervous, but the coop was small and there was a doorframe in her back.
Janna was taller than she was, a good deal taller. Taller than Kay, it occurred to her. Gerta had to look up to meet the robber girl’s eyes.
“What you’re really asking,” said Janna, her voice quite gentle, “is will I kill you?”
Gerta swallowed hard.
Janna tilted her head. She was standing very close. Gerta could feel the doorframe digging into her shoulder, the
Similar Books
