dark so Isabeau began to look around for somewhere to spend the night. She left the path and scouted up one of the deep ravines that cut down from the mountainside. Buba flew ahead, almost invisible in the gloom.
The ravine had been cut by a fast-moving stream which dashed down the rocks in a series of little waterfalls. Here and there the stream widened into pools, wreathed with mist and bound all about with snow. When Isabeau paused to drink she was startled to find the water was hot and rather bitter on the tongue.
Suddenly she crouched down, unmoving, all her senses straining. Ahead she could hear guttural shouts and laughs, almost drowning out the snarl of some young animal which, high-pitched and desperate, spoke of terror and pain. Isabeau bit her lip, then quietly crept forward until she could peer over a pile of boulders to see what was beyond.
A snow-lion cub was crouched within a circle of squat, grotesque creatures who were tormenting it with their spears and clubs. The cub's white fur was wet and matted, and stained here and there with blood. One leg hung uselessly, but still it hissed and snarled, lashing out with its sharp claws at any of its tormentors that came too close.
With broad flat noses, slitted eyes, huge flapping ears, protruding yellow teeth, skin the color of a dead fish, and big feet with long, spreading toes, they were repulsive creatures. Isabeau thought they must be uka, a Khan'cohban word meaning "demon" and used to describe all the ugly, dangerous creatures of the mountains. In her own mind she named them goblins, for they looked just like an illustration in one of her old fairy books.
She knew she had to save the cub. There was no question of leaving him to be tortured to death by the goblins. The only question was how. Although short, the goblins were wiry and strong, and armed with a wide assortment of clumsy weapons. Isabeau chewed her thumbnail then, in a flash of inspiration, raised her hands to her mouth and gave the terrifying roar of a snow lion. The sound reverberated around the ravine, causing snow to slide from the rocks above and fall in a rattle of stones. The goblins stared around in terror. Poking a baby snow lion with their spears was one thing, facing an angry full-grown male another altogether. As Isabeau roared again, they gave a shriek of dismay and ran away up the ravine.
Isabeau ran out and gathered the cub up onto her lap, purring in reassurance. At first he cringed away from her human scent but she dragged off her glove and let him smell her hand, purring all the while. He sniffed suspiciously, his tail gradually stopping its lashing. She rubbed his head and he cuddled into her fur coat, kneading and purring in contentment. She looked about her swiftly, then stood up. staggering a little under his weight. Although only a baby, he was still heavy. Buttoning him up in her coat, she turned and hurried away down the ravine, knowing the goblins would come back as soon as their bravado returned.
Floundering through the snow, her arms aching with the weight of the whimpering, squirming cub, Isabeau followed Buba's soft hoots. At last the little owl found her a den under a fallen tree and she thankfully crawled inside. Conjuring a light, she examined the injured cub more closely and bit her lip in dismay. The goblins' spears had been filthy and even the most shallow of his cuts would become infected if she did not clean them properly. Reassuring the cub in his own language, she reluctantly built a fire, melted snow in her little pot, and crumbled a few dried herbs into the bubbling water. It took a lot of coaxing before the cub let her touch the wounds, and by the time she had finished, her hands were bleeding from innumerable scratches.
It was late and snow had begun to fall again. With the lion cub curled against her side, his little heart beating rapidly against hers, Isabeau drew her heavy coat closer about them both and fell immediately into a deep sleep.
The
The ravine had been cut by a fast-moving stream which dashed down the rocks in a series of little waterfalls. Here and there the stream widened into pools, wreathed with mist and bound all about with snow. When Isabeau paused to drink she was startled to find the water was hot and rather bitter on the tongue.
Suddenly she crouched down, unmoving, all her senses straining. Ahead she could hear guttural shouts and laughs, almost drowning out the snarl of some young animal which, high-pitched and desperate, spoke of terror and pain. Isabeau bit her lip, then quietly crept forward until she could peer over a pile of boulders to see what was beyond.
A snow-lion cub was crouched within a circle of squat, grotesque creatures who were tormenting it with their spears and clubs. The cub's white fur was wet and matted, and stained here and there with blood. One leg hung uselessly, but still it hissed and snarled, lashing out with its sharp claws at any of its tormentors that came too close.
With broad flat noses, slitted eyes, huge flapping ears, protruding yellow teeth, skin the color of a dead fish, and big feet with long, spreading toes, they were repulsive creatures. Isabeau thought they must be uka, a Khan'cohban word meaning "demon" and used to describe all the ugly, dangerous creatures of the mountains. In her own mind she named them goblins, for they looked just like an illustration in one of her old fairy books.
She knew she had to save the cub. There was no question of leaving him to be tortured to death by the goblins. The only question was how. Although short, the goblins were wiry and strong, and armed with a wide assortment of clumsy weapons. Isabeau chewed her thumbnail then, in a flash of inspiration, raised her hands to her mouth and gave the terrifying roar of a snow lion. The sound reverberated around the ravine, causing snow to slide from the rocks above and fall in a rattle of stones. The goblins stared around in terror. Poking a baby snow lion with their spears was one thing, facing an angry full-grown male another altogether. As Isabeau roared again, they gave a shriek of dismay and ran away up the ravine.
Isabeau ran out and gathered the cub up onto her lap, purring in reassurance. At first he cringed away from her human scent but she dragged off her glove and let him smell her hand, purring all the while. He sniffed suspiciously, his tail gradually stopping its lashing. She rubbed his head and he cuddled into her fur coat, kneading and purring in contentment. She looked about her swiftly, then stood up. staggering a little under his weight. Although only a baby, he was still heavy. Buttoning him up in her coat, she turned and hurried away down the ravine, knowing the goblins would come back as soon as their bravado returned.
Floundering through the snow, her arms aching with the weight of the whimpering, squirming cub, Isabeau followed Buba's soft hoots. At last the little owl found her a den under a fallen tree and she thankfully crawled inside. Conjuring a light, she examined the injured cub more closely and bit her lip in dismay. The goblins' spears had been filthy and even the most shallow of his cuts would become infected if she did not clean them properly. Reassuring the cub in his own language, she reluctantly built a fire, melted snow in her little pot, and crumbled a few dried herbs into the bubbling water. It took a lot of coaxing before the cub let her touch the wounds, and by the time she had finished, her hands were bleeding from innumerable scratches.
It was late and snow had begun to fall again. With the lion cub curled against her side, his little heart beating rapidly against hers, Isabeau drew her heavy coat closer about them both and fell immediately into a deep sleep.
The
Similar Books
