Thunderbird by Deb Logan

Author:Deb Logan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: WDM Publishing

12

Janine’s Dilemma

Winona roused me at midnight, her voice soft but insistent within my brain.

Awake, She Who Cares for Thunderbirds. The Source calls me and I can resist it no longer.

I scrambled from beneath her wing, rubbing my eyes and yawning. “Okay. I’m awake. I’m ready. How’s the traffic on the road?”

The night has been quiet for a while now.

Gradually my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I glanced around. The night sky blazed with stars and a nearly full moon, lighting the landscape with a pearly glow. I’d spent a lot of my life in the wilderness, following Dad around on digs, but the brilliance of the night sky always amazed me. People who never left the city had no clue what they were missing.

“Okay. Let’s do this. If a car should catch us out in the open, stand really still and close your eyes. As long as they don’t catch the gleam of your eyes they might just think you’re a tree snag.”

Winona’s skepticism washed across my mind, but she didn’t comment. I agreed silently. She looked about as much like a dead tree as I did. I stuck my hands inside my jacket pockets and crossed my fingers that no stray cars caught us in their headlights.

We made good time tramping across the uneven ground between the base of Mt. Everts and the Gardner River. The most exciting moment came when we spooked a rabbit from beneath a tumbleweed. I half hoped Winona would skewer it—my stomach felt like it had been empty for weeks — but her attention was elsewhere. Probably on the power of the nearby Source.

When we reached the river, Winona waded in and moved straight across. I ranged down the bank looking for an easy ford. The Gardner was shallow and slow moving here, but I really dreaded hiking another mile or so in wet boots.

Luck was with me. I found a rock that jutted out into the river, and spotted several other rocks lifted above the water in an uneven path. I jumped from the first rock to the second, found my balance and launched for the third. My foot slipped on that one, but I windmilled my arms, leaned forward, and managed not to land on my bum in the icy water. Winona, already on the far bank, extended a wing. I laid a hand on the tip and used it to steady myself for the last three jumps, landing safely beside her on the west bank of the Gardner.

“Thanks,” I said as she folded her wing and prepared to continue our hike.

You are welcome. I suppose I could have carried you across.

I glanced up at her and realized with a start how much she’d grown during our journey. I’d only seen a live giraffe once when Dad took us to the zoo on a trip to Denver, but Winona had to be close to giraffe height now. When she stood straight, with her neck extended, her head towered above me. I still thought of her as a baby, but she probably could’ve carried me across the river.

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