Chapter Twelve #3
Delicious icy air flows past my body and floods my lungs, but no matter how much I tell my body that I need just a few more seconds of energy, it will not listen. The wind whispers to just rest, and I nod. Maybe just for a minute; after all, shaking that booty was a lot of work.
“Something, something, back that ass up,” I mumble the lyrics I can remember, the words coming slower and slower when someone grabs said ass and pulls.
Sita must have found me after all. Tears leave an icy trail down my face as I cry in relief. This was a close call. Way too close.
I flop gratefully onto my back, staring up into the sky, barely feeling the snowflakes landing on my face. Despite the cold pulsing through my body, I welcome the icy blast of crisp mountain air into my lungs. I let my eyes drift shut, too exhausted to even blink.
“Thank you,” I force past my chattering teeth. My words are barely recognizable, no more than a breath drifting away on the wind.
Feeling Sita lean over me, I open my eyes expecting to look up into her familiar smile and warm brown eyes.
My heart stops. My brain misfires, refusing to process what I’m seeing.
Not Sita.
Not even human.
An enormous creature covered in shaggy hair caked with snow leans over me. But it’s the eyes that are locked onto mine that has terror colder than the bitter snow sinking into my soul.
The Migoi.
“Fuck,” I breathe out on a curse.
The wind howls. The snow rages. And the creature crouches over me, watching. Waiting.
I should be screaming. Running. Something. But all I can do is stare.
This situation is going from bad, to really, really bad. I must be going into shock because if I didn’t know better, I could swear a flash of amusement flickers in the creature’s gaze at my expletive.
I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale, willing the shock-induced hallucinations away. I must have sustained a concussion in the avalanche. Or maybe this is a dream. Or perhaps I really am dead. But when I reopen them, the figure remains.
A towering mass of thick white fur. A legend made flesh. Its eyes—deep-set, silver as glacial ice—lock onto me, unblinking. In the fading light, they almost seem to glow, twin beacons in the snow. A kaleidoscope of frost and pearl, made to withstand the storm and see through the blinding white.
A wave of primal fear crashes over me. My pulse pounds in my ears, loud enough to drown out the howling wind. Run! Every instinct I have screams the command, but my body refuses to obey. Too cold. Too weak. Too late.
I swallow hard, forcing my lips to move, my voice barely more than a whisper.
“Uh, hi.” The word fogs in the freezing air before vanishing into the wind. “Thanks.” I clear my throat, trying to force my voice to continue. “Thank you for saving me. I—I didn’t mean to enter your territory. I mean you no harm.”
I scramble to convey respect, frantically trying to recall what Sita had said about the mysterious cryptid.
The great eyes blink at me, and I take in the immense shaggy white head that takes up my entire field of vision at this close range.
Other than its eyes, the facial features are obscured by the white, thick fur that is caked with snow.
The Yeti glances up at the sky and heaves a great sigh.
A shiver wracks my body as the snow accumulates on my exposed face, falling down into the hood of my coat around my neck and ears.
I can’t figure out which direction this is going to go.
I should probably be afraid of this massive creature who could crush me in a single blow. The one Sita warned me about.
Instead, I find myself curious and very, very cold. Another shiver wracks my body, setting my teeth to chattering until I can't control the sound of them clacking together. The noise draws the creature’s gaze back to me, alarm flashing through the mystical eyes.
It’s head tilts, regarding me as if not quite knowing what to do with this half-frozen human it has stumbled upon. With a huff of what I’m guessing is resignation, it scoops me up out of the snow and pulls me into its very large body.
A yelp of surprise escapes before I can stop it. My pulse stutters, my frozen limbs too weak to resist. I can only hope it is rescuing me and not saving me as a snack for later. I squeak out a muffled thanks into its fur but it sounds more like a question than a statement.
A low grunt rumbles through its chest. Acknowledgment?
Dismissal? Before I can decide, its grip tightens, pulling me closer.
Heat radiates through its thick fur, sinking into my frozen skin.
My shivers lessen, muscles unclenching from their painful spasms. But as circulation returns, fire sparks in my fingers and toes. Please, don’t be frostbite.
The storm rages, shrieking around us. The wind should tear through me. The cold should steal what little life I have left.
Instead, the creature shifts its hold, and—impossibly—its fur grows longer, thicker, surrounding me like a living cloak against the elements.
From my warm and safe cocoon, I can’t help the soft moan that escapes my lips. Exhausted, my body gives up, my vision tunneling as the void pulls me under. The last thought in my fading mind is absurd.
Sita was right.
I’ve just been saved by a Yeti.