“I can see them,” Isabelle said suddenly. The two cubs were peering at the girls out of the darkness of the den and they flinched away, hissing, as Odval swung the torchbeam across the cave. It was long and narrow – it looked almost as if two rocks had squashed together. It didn’t feel very cosy, but at least it was out of the wind and snow. Isabelle hated to break into the cubs’ safe home – but Odval was right, it was dangerously cold for the two girls outside.

“We saw your mother,” she whispered to the cubs. “We helped her, but she still got caught. She’ll be back soon…” She looked over at Odval, her eyes filling with tears. Would Grace ever return home to her babies? “We’ll look after you…” she promised. “Somehow.” Even if your mother never comes back, she added to herself.

“We’ve got food,” Odval said, as they slipped inside the cave, curling up against the wall as far away from the cubs as they could. The snow leopards lay pressed against the opposite wall, watching them anxiously. “We could feed them. They can’t have had much of that meat last night, and they hadn’t eaten for a while before that – you said Grace didn’t bring anything back yesterday. I bet they’re hungry.” Odval pulled the bag of food out from the front of her deel and opened it up, resting the torch on a rock so she could see what she was doing.

Shadow sat up at once, making a low noise in his throat, a curious sort of yowling. He was obviously hungry. He padded cautiously towards them, stopping an arm’s length away and eyeing the meat dumpling that Odval had broken open. She tossed it to him gently, so that it fell just in front of his paws, and he sniffed at it for a moment. Then he gave the girls one last careful glance and gobbled down the treat in one mouthful.

“What about your sister?” Isabelle murmured, laughing as he came towards them, sniffing eagerly at Odval’s hands and the bag. But Sky stayed pressed against the far wall, and Isabelle thought she was trembling.

“Throw some towards her,” she suggested to Odval, and Odval tried, but Shadow whipped round and pounced on the food before his sister could get near.

Odval looked out at the snow, which seemed to be falling more and more thickly. “We’d better save the rest for the moment,” she decided, tucking the bag behind her. “We don’t know how long we’ll all be here. And we might need some food, too. Sometimes a blizzard can go on for a long time. Last winter, there was a storm that went on for two days. My ma and pa just about managed to get out and feed the animals, but that was all.”

Isabelle nodded. She leaned against Odval, suddenly weary. They were safer now that they were out of the storm, but the den was freezing. She could see her breath, smoky and white in front of her face. She shuddered as the wind screamed by outside. And poor Grace was still trapped. What will Odval’s parents think? she wondered suddenly. They’ll wake up and find her gone. Maybe they have already. Her and Sukhe. But Altan should be back by now. He’ll know where Sukhe is, I suppose.

She glanced round, about to ask Odval if her parents would go and look for her – but Odval was asleep, worn out by their terrifying climb.

Shadow was watching them, clearly hoping for more food. He edged closer and closer, so that he was almost touching Odval’s feet.

“Will you warm us up?” Isabelle whispered, and the little snow leopard sniffed at their boots hopefully, as if he thought they might be food. Disappointed, he slumped down, with his muzzle resting on Odval’s boot. He wriggled and turned himself round a few times, padding at Odval to make her more comfortable, just like Gran’s cat did. Then he wrapped his thick tail around his face like a warm scarf and closed his eyes. Isabelle smiled delightedly – but then she looked back over at Sky.

Was she a little closer than she’d been before? Isabelle looked away, not wanting to scare her off.

What about my mum and dad? she thought to herself. Are they worried, too? Am I actually here, and not at home? I thought it was just a dream, but it isn’t, it can’t be. It’s gone on too long. It’s too real. How am I going to get home? She reached out a cautious hand to pat Shadow’s rough head.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she whispered, glancing across the cave at Sky. The little grey cub stared back at her, her eyes gleaming in the faint torchlight. “What are we going to do?” Isabelle felt her voice wobble, and she pressed her hands over her eyes. Now that Odval was asleep, she felt so much more alone – and frightened. What if they couldn’t save Grace? What if they never found their way down the mountain? She caught her breath, trying to stop herself from crying.

There was a faint scuffling noise, and Isabelle peered through her fingers, not moving. Sky was coming! “Are you trying to make me feel better?” Isabelle whispered. “Could you hear me crying?”

The little cub padded slowly across the cave and Isabelle held her breath. The cub sat down next to her brother and stared, her blue eyes glowing in the torchlight.

“I’m supposed to be looking after you,” Isabelle said, her voice still shaking. “That’s why we came… But now it feels like you’re worrying about me.”

Sky gazed into her eyes, and made a snuffling sound, blowing out through her nostrils. Then she rubbed the side of her face against Isabelle’s foot.

“Do you want some food?” Isabelle whispered, reaching behind Odval for the bag. “Here, look.” She pulled out a dumpling and the cub leaned forward hopefully. Isabelle was about to throw it for her, when she daintily seized it out of her hand – the same with the next. And then she lay down next to the girls, resting her head in Isabelle’s lap.

Isabelle ran her hand over Sky’s ears and yawned. She’d been half asleep, even though it was daytime. There was something about Sky snoozing on top of her that had made her sleepy, too. She stretched a little, wondering how much time had passed and realizing how stiff she was, how much everything ached. Shadow was at the entrance to the den, looking out. He glanced round as he heard Isabelle move.

“It’s stopped snowing!” she gasped, looking at the patch of clear sky showing in the cave mouth. “Odval, wake up. It’s stopped. We can go back.”

Odval stretched wearily and Sky sat up with a huge cat-yawn, showing all her white teeth. “I should go home – my parents…” She made a face. “They’ll be so worried. The storm must have lasted a couple of hours, I think.”

Isabelle nodded. “But we need to check the pit, as well, and see if Grace is still there.” She frowned. “I could do that – I’m sure I can find the way. You’d better go straight back.”

“No, I’m coming with you!” Odval shook her head firmly. “A few more minutes won’t make much difference. I bet Sukhe didn’t stay on guard through the storm; he must have gone home, too. Let’s hope Grace climbed out.”

“But wouldn’t she have returned to her cubs?” Isabelle reached out to stroke Sky, and then glanced worriedly at Shadow, waiting at the cave entrance. “Shadow’s looking for her, I think.”

“Perhaps she couldn’t come back?” Odval shrugged helplessly. “We have to go and see. Maybe we can rescue her.”

Isabelle nodded and gently pushed Sky away. “Shall we leave them the last of the food?” She pulled out the bag and opened it up, getting out the sheep’s milk cheese that was left and piling it in the middle of the cave. Both cubs ran to sniff at it, as the girls stood at the opening.

“We’ll see you soon,” Odval promised, as they stepped out on to the snowy ledge and began to climb down carefully.

As Isabelle glanced back up from the ledge below, she saw that both cubs had abandoned the food and were standing in the den entrance, gazing worriedly after them.

“It’ll be all right,” Isabelle whispered. “She’ll come home.” Inside the long sleeve of her deel, she crossed her fingers, pleading with all the spirits of the mountain. She wasn’t sure she believed in them, but Odval did. “Bring her back to them,” she begged, as she followed Odval down the path.

“She is still down there!” Isabelle gasped, pointing to the heap of huddled fur in the corner of the pit. “Oh, she must be hurt. Maybe she injured herself when she jumped in?”

The snow leopard looked up at them and hissed. She stood up – was she limping a little? Isabelle wasn’t quite sure. She couldn’t see a wound.

“I can’t see Sukhe anywhere,” Odval said. “He must have gone back to the ger. We have to get her out of here before he returns.”

“If we put the khana back down there, would she climb up it?” Isabelle suggested.

Odval sighed. “Maybe – it’s got to be worth a try, anyway. I can’t see any other way of getting her out.”

They had to dig away a thick covering of snow over the rocks where they’d hidden the wooden lattice, but at last they pulled it out. They stood at the edge of the pit, wrenching at the rawhide strips that tied it all together. They were stiff with cold, and Isabelle wanted to scream with frustration. Sukhe and Altan could be back any moment. “There!” she gasped, as the lattice finally opened out.

Cautiously, the girls leaned over the edge, lowering the wooden frame down. They didn’t want to hit Grace.

The snow leopard skulked away to the other side of the pit. “She is limping, I think,” Odval said. “I hope she can still get up this… Here, untie your sash and I’ll take off mine – we can use them to hold the frame up. She won’t climb past us if we’re holding on to the wood.”

They stood a couple of steps away, gripping the ends of the sashes and hoping.

Nothing happened for so many long moments, and then there was a scuffling and a scraping and a sudden weight dragging on their arms. Isabelle gasped and leaned back as the snow leopard came leaping up out of the trap, bounding past them in a blur of grey, and vanishing up the path, towards her babies.

The two girls watched her go, open-mouthed, and then Odval threw her arms around Isabelle and smiled – a wide grin of pure happiness. “We did it!” She looked back up the path and gave a tiny sigh. “She’ll leave here now, you know. She won’t stay this close to the gers, now that she’s been so scared. She’ll be able to smell us in the den, too. So I probably won’t see her again. But it means she’ll be safe, far away from our gers! She was my secret, for so long…” Odval stroked Isabelle’s sleeve. “My secret, just like you.”

“We rescued her, and the cubs…” Isabelle said slowly. “That’s why I came, I think. Why you wished me to come, I mean.”

“Are you going now, too?” Odval asked.

“I don’t know… Oh, Odval, look!”

Coming back towards them down the path was the snow leopard, pacing slowly, her great tail swinging. She was favouring one front leg, just a little. And pattering after her – reaching up now and then to bat at that swinging tail – were Shadow and Sky.

“They’re going to their new home,” Isabelle whispered.

The two girls stepped back, pressing themselves against the rocks, as the snow leopards passed.

Grace looked up and paused, just for a second, gazing at them with her clear, greenish eyes. It was the first time Isabelle had looked into her face, and she felt as though she would never be able to forget it – the dark lines above her eyes, with delicate arches of tiny spots swooping over them. Isabelle was sure that Grace had stopped to say thank you. She padded on, and the cubs nosed at the two girls, nudging them and jumping up to press great padded paws against their legs.

Then they too frisked away after their mother, and the snow leopards vanished into the shadows of the mountain.

Isabelle sighed, but happily. She had a strange sense that everything was right – it was done. She turned to look at Odval and saw that her friend was smiling, but there were frosty tears on her cheeks.

“You might see her again,” Isabelle whispered. “Maybe.”

“But what about you? I think you’ll go back to just being a dream.” Odval reached out her hand, and Isabelle went to take it – but it was too far away. The icy cold was leaving the air, and the sparkling light of the snow was dimming. She couldn’t reach Odval’s hand, however hard she tried.

And then she found herself, still in the dim light of morning – but in her own bed, with the snow leopard decoration clutched in her hands.

Isabelle peered down at it, her heart thumping. Had she dreamed it all? She ran her fingers over the rough felt – and remembered Odval and her mother. It had seemed so real. She touched the bumps of the leopard’s stitched markings and shook her head uncertainly. The little lines and spots over the eyes – just like Grace’s.

“She was real,” Isabelle murmured. “They all were.”

“What have you asked for, Tilly?” Isabelle said, leaning over to look at her little sister’s list. It was scribbly and smeared, and Isabelle thought it was probably a good thing that Tilly had been going round telling everybody what she wanted Father Christmas to bring for weeks. Mum would have to write it underneath, or something. Not even an elf would be able to understand Tilly’s handwriting.

“A sledge and a dolls’ house and two chocolate mice and a candy cane and new pink wellies!” Tilly chanted, and Isabelle giggled.

“What are you asking for, Isabelle?” Dad came past with a box of Christmas decorations. “I hope you two are nearly finished – we’re almost ready to start decorating the tree.”

Isabelle looked down at her list:

Riding lessons

So I can ride like Odval, she added in her head. I could go to the stables where Daisy goes. She said she’d come with me. I’ll ask her about it at school on Monday; she was so nice…

A furry hat

Because it’s freezing out there, Isabelle thought, nibbling her pencil. And Mum thinks it’s going to snow any day. Even though I know it isn’t really all that cold, not like it was back there, with Odval… She gave a tiny sigh. It felt like a dream, but not a dream. She knew that it had been real somehow. I wonder if Odval remembers me? I’ll always remember her. Then she smiled. She would remember, but when she went back to school, there’d be Daisy to talk to. And Odval would be going to school soon, too. Perhaps it was only now that they’d really needed each other?

A snow leopard

“A toy snow leopard?” Dad asked, frowning as he looked over her shoulder at the last thing on the list.

Isabelle grinned at him. “No, a real one. Don’t worry, Dad, not as a pet. I want to sponsor one. I read about it – you can send money to a wildlife charity and they’ll send you pictures. They have these special cameras set up, it’s brilliant.”

And maybe one day, it’ll be Grace in the photo, Isabelle thought to herself. Or Shadow, or little Sky. Will I recognize them, when they’re all grown up?

She would, she thought, remembering the way Sky had eaten from her hand and slept curled half in her lap – and the warm weight of the cubs’ paws pressing against her at that last goodbye.