The Raven and the Reindeer Read Online Free

you saw the Snow Queen, I’ll not disbelieve you now.”  
    “As far north as north,” said Gerta. She took a deep breath and let it out. She was aware that what she was doing was quite unspeakably mad. “I have to go after him.”
    Her grandmother closed her eyes. After a moment, she said, “I should tell you not to go. I should tell you one child lost is enough.”
    “But you won’t,” said Gerta.
    “But I won’t.” She looked back at her oldest and dearest friend, asleep on the couch with the lines of age and grief like fissures in her skin. “I’m an old fool. I told you and Kay about the Snow Queen. I should have known he’d take it to heart. There always was a spot of ice in him.”
    “You couldn’t know—” said Gerta.
    “I should have known. Things come when they’re called.” She scrubbed her hands over her own face. “If I lose you, it’s no more than I deserve.”
    “I’ll be careful,” said Gerta. “You won’t lose me. I’ll just go north a little way and ask if anyone’s seen him.”  
    “Yes.” Her grandmother began hurrying around the room. “Take some food. I don’t want you starving.”
    Gerta slung her pack over her back. “I will. Is there anything else I can do, Grandmother? Against the Snow Queen?”
    The old woman shook her head. “In all the old stories, the only thing that ever won was love. And occasionally a good sharp knife.”
    “I’ll take the kitchen knife with me, then,” said Gerta.
    “Mind that you do. And wear your boots.” She kissed her granddaughter on the forehead. “An old woman’s grace go with you, child.”
    Gerta went.  

CHAPTER FIVE

    Spring had advanced far enough that it only sometimes froze at night, but it could not be said that it was warm. The roads were muddy. Gerta’s boots squelched as she walked.
    For the first few hours, her heart was light. She was going somewhere. She was doing something. She would get Kay back.  
    But as the evening started to fall, so did her spirits. Her calves ached from sliding back and forth in the mud. Her toes were very cold.  
    I can’t have come very far, not really. But I’ve been walking for hours. And where am I going to sleep?  
    In stories, the heroines were resourceful and cheerful and determined. Gerta had hoped to be all these things, but the sun was sinking behind the trees and she was feeling less and less resourceful. Cheerful was right out.  
    Shouldn’t there be a farmhouse somewhere? I could trade chores for a place to sleep…but that only works if there’s a farmhouse somewhere…
    She was, in fact, in the woods. They were not dark or scary or twisted woods, but they were deep and full of sounds. Insects went skreek skreek and frogs went hnaaaaagh and an owl went Eeeeaaaagahahahah! and Gerta nearly jumped out of her skin.  
    She squelched down the road in a hurry, her heart pounding. Even knowing that it was an owl didn’t help.  
    I should stop. I can hardly see. I could wander off a cliff.
    Oh yes. Because there are lots and lots of cliffs in the middle of well-travelled wagon roads…
    She kept walking.  
    A fallen log by the side of the road offered a refuge. She sat down on it and sighed.
    I suppose I could just sit here all night…
    She knew that it wasn’t cold enough to actually freeze to death. But the log was cold and damp and her backside got cold and damp and Gerta felt thoroughly miserable.
    If I’m going to feel awful anyway, I might as well keep walking. At least I’ll get closer to Kay.  
    She got up. The ground sucked at her boots as she slogged back onto the road.  
    An hour or so passed. Probably. She couldn’t see the moon through the trees. The thought that it might only have been a few minutes was so discouraging that she tried not to think about it.  
    She was cold and she was tired. She had been sweating from exertion, so now her skin felt soggy. There was definitely a blister coming up on her heel.  
    It’s for Kay , she told herself.