Winterfrost (11 page)

Suddenly the teakettle hissed. It started out low but quickly grew to a piercing wail. Bettina let out a long breath.

“There’s my water for tea,” she stated matter-of-factly. Both Bettina and her neighbors were well aware that Mor would have invited them in for tea.

Again, uncomfortable silence. Except for the teakettle, whose call was becoming more urgent with each passing second.

“Well, then, we’d best be on our way,” Mr. Pedersen said. “You tend to the kettle — though do be careful.”

“Yes, dear, please be careful. And if you need anything at all, you know where we are,” Mrs. Pedersen added, still talking even as she walked backward out of the wood room and into the barnyard. “Anything.”

Bettina assured her neighbors that she would call if necessary, closed the door, and took the screaming kettle from the stove. She realized that she probably should have said something about the kettle waking Pia, but she hadn’t thought of that. She wondered if the Pedersens had.

She made a cup of tea and honey, and from the kitchen window she watched Mr. and Mrs. Pedersen making their way back to their farm. She took a small sip of tea. It was too hot to drink.

As much as she’d wanted the Pedersens gone, Bettina wished them back again. The silent kitchen, the entire house, felt empty. Empty like the pram that stood there before her, a painful reminder of all that had gone wrong in such a short time. Gammel had promised to find Pia, but what if he failed? Bettina tried to imagine what would happen if Pia wasn’t home when Mor and Far returned. She closed her eyes and imagined Mor’s stricken face and Far’s disappointment. Tears burned beneath her still-closed eyelids.

Bettina opened her eyes and looked out over the backyard. The winterfrost remained, still and silent. Not a single frosty blade of brown grass moved. The sea must be as still as glass, Bettina thought, remembering summer days when her family had followed the fjord to the sea to soak up the breezes and lie on warm sand.

The Larsens would visit the sea again, she vowed. Pia would toddle in the sand and splash in the cool water with Bettina while Mor, Far, and maybe even Mormor watched from their blankets in the sun.

Outside something caused Bettina’s thoughts to return from the sea. But what? She scanned the garden, but everything was still. She turned from the window when it caught her eye again — an unmistakable flash of red.

Just minutes earlier, Klakke paced the haymow floor and went up and down the ladder a dozen times. What were the Pedersens saying to Bettina? Or — perhaps worse — what was
she
saying to
them
? Finally, when Felix started barking once more, Klakke peeked out the window in the loft. Rasmus and Lisa Pedersen were leaving! They were all waves and smiles as they headed away from the house, but their smiles didn’t last long. They appeared to be deep in discussion as they walked down the driveway toward the road.

It seemed Bettina had averted disaster. Klakke was proud. The more he knew of Bettina Larsen, the more he liked the girl. She reminded him somewhat of his twin sister, Klara. Confident. Dependable. And not afraid of adventure. He’d only seen Klara a couple of times each year since he’d left Falster, and he missed her wonderful giggle.

Klakke was sure he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep now. In fact, he wasn’t sure he
should
go back to sleep. The Pedersens’ visit had made him realize the urgency of Bettina’s situation. How could Gammel expect them to just sit while he tried to work things out? Wouldn’t it be better to have
two
nisse looking for Pia? Besides, Klakke had created this mess. He should be the one to resolve it. That is what any mature, reliable nisse would do. Klakke was convinced that he must take action, and the sooner, the better.

Leaving his post was a serious matter, and one that Klakke didn’t take lightly. He knew he could be entering dangerous territory, so he thought it best to leave a note. If the worst happened and he never returned, perhaps Gammel or Hagen would come by and at least they’d know his fate.

“I’ve gone to Ulf’s abode to retrieve the stolen child. If danger befalls me, please take care of the Family Larsen and their animals,” he scribbled on a small piece of paper, which he placed high in the mow where only nisse eyes would think to look.

Klakke knew he should take the path that led directly from the back of the barn to the edge of the forest. It was daylight, and taking the shortest route to cover made the most sense. But he couldn’t help himself. He took instead the garden path that led behind the house. It was the same way he had gone the day he took baby Pia from her carriage. It was because of the big kitchen window that he took this path today.

Klakke moved quickly through the Larsens’ back garden. When he reached the woods, he turned and stood very still. Sure enough, she was there. Bettina stood with a cup of tea in front of the big window, and he was certain she saw him. Then, right before he darted into the forest, Klakke gave Bettina a smile and a tip of his pointed red cap. Just to let her know that everything would turn out fine.

Klakke wasted no time as he headed through the forest. He was breaking the rules yet again, being outside in broad daylight. But a small voice inside his head told him that he had but one chance to undo the wrong he had done — and that chance was now. He knew that there were those who believed him too young to handle the responsibility of a farm. And he knew of one nisse in particular who had been waiting twelve years for Klakke to slip up. Now he simply had to bring baby Pia back home.

As Klakke hurried along, he thought about what he had done back at the Larsens’ patio. It is rare that a nisse makes his presence so obvious to a human, especially in human territory. Perhaps this is why most humans don’t believe in nisse — they find it impossible to believe in that which they haven’t seen with their own two eyes. But Farfar Larsen knew without a doubt that the family shared their farms, fields, and forests with nisse. Klakke had heard Farfar speak to him in the barn, even though he was careful to stay hidden away in the mow.

Klakke continued onward, his mind racing as fast as his tiny booted feet. Bettina was so much like her grandfather. Willing to look for the unseen. Klakke wished there were more folks like Bettina and her farfar in the world.

Klakke ducked beneath a small log and over a mouse’s nest on the other side. He waved to the startled mouse mother and continued on. Ahead was a large clearing where tall dead grasses blew in the winter breeze. Klakke had never crossed the clearing during the daytime. He glanced around to make sure he was alone — that the pesky Pedersens hadn’t decided to take a stroll through the woods — and then set off.

Klakke was clipping along at an impressive speed, his boots
pat-pat-patting
rhythmically over the grassy ground, when he noticed his right foot missed the earth below. He looked down. His left foot also missed the grass by an inch or more. Then his right foot. Then his left. With every stride, his feet were getting farther and farther from the ground beneath him!

Nervously, Klakke turned to look over his shoulder. He saw gray and white feathers and a long, sharp beak holding tightly to his brown coat.

“Gammel!” he cried as the clearing below became a tiny patch of land among the forest. Soon even the trees — including the giant oak — grew tiny.

“GAM-MEL!” the little nisse called again, but to no avail. He was high above the forest now, being taken far, far from his home in the beak of a seagull.

Bettina tripped through the snow-covered forest. She’d been following Klakke for nearly half an hour, not at all sure where he was headed, but praying that if she followed him, she might find more clues that would help her find Pia.

Bettina had hurriedly layered clothing and stuffed her feet into her boots, and moments after spotting Klakke near the forest’s edge, she’d slid out the back door and rushed after him. Thoughts of Gammel brought less guilt now that she had an excuse to be out in the forest instead of sitting at home. She told herself,
I’m looking for Klakke, not Pia.
But there was no denying it: Bettina knew that looking for Klakke also meant looking for Pia.

Continuing through the forest in the direction she had seen Klakke go, she stepped over a small hollow log and noticed a nest of mice burrowed on the other side. Just a few days ago, she probably would have passed over the nest without even seeing it. Doing rounds with Gammel had made her more aware of what was happening in the forest around her.

When she reached a clearing of dried brown winter grass, Bettina stopped and sighed. In this tall grass, she would never be able to see little Klakke, if he was even out here at all. What now? Feeling defeated and a bit foolish for following Klakke in the first place, Bettina turned for home.

Then she heard something odd.
“Ammmmm-ullllll!”

It came again, small and faint, and growing more distant with each second.

Bettina turned her eyes to the sky above. Gray winter clouds hid the sun, and a lone bird flew overhead.
Just a bird
, she thought. A bird that appeared to have caught a mouse in his beak. Bettina squinted. When did mice start wearing red hats?

“Klakke!” she cried. But before his name was even out of her mouth, the bird and its prey had disappeared over the trees. Klakke was gone.

Bettina hadn’t dreamed she’d be back at the gnarled oak tree so soon, but there she stood, not at all sure how to get the attention of the nisse inside. Should she reach her hand under the root and knock? Or just open the door?

With thoughts of Klakke hanging helplessly from the beak of a seagull, Bettina got down on her belly and reached for the handle. She closed her eyes, held her breath, and pushed down. A familiar pull tugged at her hand, her arm, then
whoosh!
Bettina found herself standing in the kitchen of the tiny house under the oak. She was indeed small again.

Bettina had expected the whole nisse family to be standing before her, but the kitchen was empty and the house was silent. A faint glow from a small red ember in the fireplace cast the only light in the room. There was no sign of the fireflies; their glass globes sat empty. It appeared that no one was home. Bettina’s heart sank. What would she do now? She’d lost her sister and Klakke, too. She was counting on Gammel to know how to help.