Chapter 5
Chapter
Five
Ihad every intention of waking early to find Sita. But my body, finally feeling safe, had other plans. When I stretch and roll over, the golden light of sunset pours through the window.
I hurry to the lounge to look for her, but Tenzig directs me to the fire pit outside. A new group of visitors huddles there, likely the last before the snow makes travel impossible. Sita moves among them, passing out steaming cups of chai.
Kicking myself for wasting a whole day, I hover near the fire until she’s finished with her hostess duties. When she finally joins me, her warm smile reassures me.
I still apologize, “Sita, I’m so sorry I slept the day away!”
She laughs softly. “Please, do not apologize. I didn’t think to ever see you again, didi.”
The nickname for sister draws a smile. She truly feels like one. Not just a guide in my search, but a steady force through every lead and subsequent letdown. She’s helped me navigate both the terrain and my own disappointments.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect to ever be back, much less so soon. But here I am. We must find the plant, Sita.”
She looks at me with quiet sympathy. She knows what’s at stake.
“I feel like we need to search there,” I say, pointing. “Across the river.”
Her expression darkens. She gently lowers my hand, then draws a protective symbol in the air.
“Dahlia, I know how badly you need this plant. But we must not cross the sacred Migaia.”
“Why not?” I frown. “We’ve searched everywhere else.”
She shakes her head, eyes wide. “Please, don’t ask me again tonight.”
Her fear is out of character. We’d trekked cliffs and waterfalls together, agile as mountain goats. She’s always been fearless. But now, just looking across the river, she seems shaken.
I don’t press. Not yet.
We sit in silence, watching the fire burn down as darkness settles around us, the days already growing shorter. The other tourists drift off to bed until just one young man remains.
Sita excuses herself to place hot water bottles in my bed, fussing over me catching a chill. I smile at her retreating form, grateful beyond words to be with her again. It feels good to have someone care about me.
The man flashes me a grin as we’re left alone. I smile back, which has him coming to sit beside me. His British accent is charming as he makes small talk, but I can’t concentrate.
I feel something behind me, but this time, it isn’t sensual. It’s watchful and possessive. Territorial even.
I glance over my shoulder to find nothing but darkness. When I turn back, the man cocks his head at me as I mumble, “Thought I heard something.”
He leans around me to peer into the night, balancing with a hand on my knee, saying, “I didn’t hear anything.”
I freeze, not because I feel threatened, but because I’ve forgotten how to read moments like this. Is he flirting? Or just being friendly?
Before I can decide, a thunderous crash exploding from the trees behind us has both of us leaping to our feet and spinning around. I scan the forest, searching for movement, but see nothing.
“Well, I definitely heard that,” he says with a nervous chuckle. “I think that’s our cue for bed.”
“Yes,” I murmur, still staring into the dark. “I think you’re right.”
Sita returns, eyes flicking between us. “Everything okay?”
“Yes, goodnight,” the man says uneasily and heads off.
“Sita, there was a huge crash over there,” I explain, pointing off in the direction the sound had come from.
She grabs my hand without a word and drags me back to my room. Once inside, she closes the door and leans against it.
“Sita?” I ask softly. “Are you okay?”
She gestures to the bed. We sit, and her eyes flick to the window that overlooks the forest.
“Didi,” she says quietly. “There’s a reason we haven’t searched those woods. What you heard—it’s not unusual here.”
My heart stutters. “What do you mean?”
She hesitates before saying, “The mountains have their own secrets, Dahlia. We call it the Migoi. Some say it's a myth. But I know better.”
“You mean… Yetis?” I half-laugh, as I recall the local legends.
Her expression hardens. “The Migoi isn’t the Western creature you imagine. It’s a spirit. A guardian. Sometimes it helps. Sometimes it warns. And sometimes…”
Her voice trails off.
I lean forward. “You believe they’re real?”
She nods. “I know they are. Most people leave when winter comes, but my family has always stayed here. We’ve seen tracks and other signs of a large creature. Too big to be a man. When we have enough, or when we have no choice but to enter those woods, we leave offerings.”
She’s quiet, staring out the window but her eyes are unfocused. After a few beats she continues. “One winter was so harsh, we nearly ran out of fuel and thought we’d freeze to death. But the next morning, we found wood stacked outside. So much wood, Dahlia. No man could’ve done that overnight.”
She blinks away the memories and meets my eyes. “I listen to the mountains, to the earth. And I respect the Migoi.”
I whisper, “So what we heard tonight… was that a warning?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it was just passing through.” Her eyes dart back to the window. “But even without the Migoi, the forest across the river is dangerous—wild animals, avalanches, even harsher terrain than what we’ve already explored.”
I swallow hard, realizing the weight of her words and say softly, “Sita, it’s the only place we haven’t searched. I have to go.”
She sighs. “We will go back to the ashram first and ask again. Then, we’ll see. Now, sleep.”
She squeezes my hand. “We’ll leave at first light.”