The Raven and the Reindeer by T. Kingfisher

she sees a long way, when she can see at all. Be careful. You could stay here, you know. I can always use a hand around the inn.”
    Gerta shook her head. “It’s very kind of you,” she said, “and I appreciate it. But I have to find Kay.”  
    “Then go with God,” said the storyteller’s daughter, “and whatever kindly spirits you meet along your path.”  

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

    She and Mousebones had been on the road for two days when the raven said “The other human girl I knew lives near here.”
    Gerta felt a pang of something that wasn’t jealousy, but was at least a little like it. “Oh?” she said, keeping her voice carefully neutral.
    “In the woods,” said Mousebones, gesturing toward the line of trees off to their left. “She lives there with her flock.”  
    Gerta’s first instinct, rapidly squelched, was to walk away from the forest.  
    That’s stupid. We’re friends, that’s all, and he’s allowed to have other friends.  
    She aimed her feet toward the trees. “Do you think she’ll let us stay for the night?”
    “I stayed for weeks,” said Mousebones. “She healed up my wing and fed me dead mice.”
    “…hopefully she’ll have something for humans to eat, too.”  
    It occurred to Gerta that Mousebones might prefer to spend the winter in the care of a healer who fed him dead mice. She felt an odd wash of cold from the center of her chest at the thought.  
    He’s not my pet. If he wants to stay there, he can.  
    And if the thought of not having him around to hunger after my eyeballs makes me feel a bit like crying…well, that’s my problem, not his.  
    Aloud, she said only “It’ll be warmer there than it will be in a ditch, I’m sure.”
    It took an hour to reach the trees, but she was glad that she had started in that direction. The sky was developing a certain grey heaviness that she didn’t like. It looked like more snow was on the way.  
    There was a clear gap in the trees. She made for it and found the remnants of a road.
    Mousebones took off, winging awkwardly from tree to tree. Gerta bit her lip.  
    Don’t be stupid. He wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.  
      And indeed, a few minutes later he returned, shaking snow down on her and cawing laughter.  
    “Hey! That’s cold!”
    “Aurk!”
    She tossed a snowball at him underhand, and he flew easily out of the way, snickering.  
    “You’re lucky you’ve got wings,” she said.  
    “Wings are the natural state of being,” he said. “You were just born unlucky.” He hopped onto a bough overhead. “The other human lives near here. Follow me.”  
    Gerta followed him. Pine needles crunched underfoot as she walked.
    Don’t be so nervous. This is no different than a farmhouse, and you got used to going up to those. If you don’t like her, you can leave.  
    But would Mousebones come with me?  
    “Not far now—” called Mousebones, and then a large man stepped out from behind a tree and grabbed Gerta around the waist.  

    Gerta yelped. “Hey— hey!”  
    He was very large and red-faced, with stubble more yellow than grey. He looked at her for a moment with his brow knit, and then he bent his knees and heaved her into the air.
    “Stop—!” Gerta began, and then he had her slung over his shoulder and was jogging through the forest.
    She had never been slung over anyone’s shoulder before. It had very little to recommend it. Her head was hanging down and the ground was lurching past.  
    “Aurk!” she heard Mousebones calling. “Aurk! Stop that! Put my human down! You don’t carry other humans that way!”
    She tried kicking her feet but could get no leverage. She elbowed him in the kidneys and he grunted, so she did it again, but he didn’t slow down.  
    The other problem with being carried like that became rapidly apparent. Every step slammed his shoulder into her gut, over and over. Things started to move, and not in a good way.
    Gerta tried to get a hand over her mouth, but it