In the village the feather alarm tickled Dorgle’s foot. He woke up and sat up in bed.
“Up and at ’em, Migo! Time to ring the gong!” he called out.
He walked past Migo’s room, made his way to the launchpad, and strapped on his helmet. Then, with all his might, he pushed the chair into launch position and climbed in.
“Aaaaand launch,” he said, but nothing happened. Without Migo to pull the lever, the chair wouldn’t take off.
“Migo?”
He looked behind him, and then he realized. “Oh yeah. Banished.”
He knew he’d have to hit the lever himself. He reached behind, twisting and turning, but he couldn’t reach it. He stretched out his leg and hit the lever with his big toe.
Sproing! The seat flung forward, firing him at the gong. But Dorgle’s aim was way off. He bent his body and flapped his arms, trying to correct his course.
It didn’t work. Splat! He crashed into the side of the gong tower, splitting his helmet in two. Then he slid to the ground.
Dorgle started to panic. No gong meant the Great Sky Snail wouldn’t wake up! They would spend the day in darkness! He’d have to get up and try again.
But when he got to his feet, the first golden rays of the Great Sky Snail were shedding light on the dark sky.
He stared, dumbfounded. “What the . . .”
All over the village, snails began to glow and Yetis started to wake up.
“What just happened?” Dorgle wondered. He hadn’t rung the gong, and yet the Great Sky Snail was awake.
He turned toward the village gate and squinted as a group of Yetis strolled through. One of them looked very familiar.
Migo, Meechee, Gwangi, Kolka, and Fleem strolled through the village as curious Yetis stepped out of their homes. The five friends strutted down the icy street with confidence, like they were the coolest Yetis on the planet. They’d just found a Smallfoot!
Migo turned and spoke to everyone he saw. “Hey, listen, everyone. Stop what you’re doing and follow us. This is going to be the best part of your day!”
Meanwhile, as soon as the sun had risen without the gong, the Stonekeeper had sent Thorp out to investigate. The big Yeti stomped down the street—and spotted Migo.
“Hey, Migo, welcome back!” he said, and then he remembered. “Wait, aren’t you supposed to be banished?”
“Yep!” Migo replied cheerfully.
“Oh cool,” Thorp said. “Wait, what?”
Migo and the others marched to the tree in the center of the village. By now they’d gotten the attention of the entire village. The Yetis gathered round, sensing that something exciting was about to happen.
“Everyone, come here! Gather round. I promise you are gonna want to see this!” Migo declared.
By now the entire village had gathered around him.
“Fellow Yetis!” Migo began. “There are moments in our lives that are so important that we must pause and look deeper into the moment of the pace in which we are . . . to hold such beauteous gravitas, and take in the beauty—”
“Get to the point!” someone yelled.
“Yep. Okay. Here we go. Fellow Yetis! Behold the Smallfoot!”
Migo lifted Percy up over his head and removed his boot.
The Yetis gasped. Then they all began to talk at once.
“Is that . . .”
“Can it be?”
“Whoa!”
“It has a freakishly small foot!”
The toddlers climbed on top of one another, hoping to get a better look.
Percy didn’t mind being on display. He filmed the Yetis all gaping at him in awe.
“I can’t believe my eyes,” he murmured. “These aren’t primitive beasts living in caves. This is a complex civilization! Do you know what that means for the world?”
He looked into the camera lens. “A Percy Patterson network special! You’re welcome, world!”
Then the Stonekeeper made his way through the crowd. The Yetis respectfully moved aside and quieted down.
“So what’s all of this excitement?” the Stonekeeper asked.
“Migo found a Smallfoot!” one of the Yetis replied.
“That’s one guess,” the Stonekeeper said calmly.
Migo’s jaw dropped. How could the Stonekeeper deny what was right in front of his eyes?
“But, Dad, look at its small foot!” Meechee said, pointing to Percy’s foot.
The Stonekeeper shrugged. “Don’t yaks have small feet?” he asked. He reached out toward Percy. “Let me take it into the palace, consult the stones, and determine what it is.”
Migo and the others glared at him.
“What if it is a Smallfoot?” a Yeti named Garry blurted out. “Does that mean a stone is wrong?”
Gwangi fake-coughed into his hand. “They’re all wrong.”
The villagers began to murmur to one another. Garry had a good point.
“Everyone, please!” the Stonekeeper cried. “What do the stones tell us about questions? That we take them in . . .” He took a deep breath, and then made a pushing motion with his hands. “And push them down.”
The Yetis all took a deep breath—but they didn’t push down their questions. Instead they ran to Migo, and their questions poured out like water from a faucet.
“Migo, is it dangerous?”
“Can I pet it?”
“Does it do tricks?”
“WHAT IS HAPPENING?”
“What other stones are wrong?”
Garry grabbed his head in pain. “I have so many questions!”
The Stonekeeper had lost control. Migo sat down on a rock underneath the tree and talked to the Yetis, while Percy happily filmed it all.
“Where is it from?”
“Why is it pink?”
“How did you get it here?”
“How does it think with such a tiny little brain?”
“Honestly?” Migo replied. “I have just as many questions as you do.”
A rock fruit peddler offered a rock fruit to Migo.
“Is it hungry? Does it want a bite of fruit?”
A female Yeti looked at Percy in wonder. “How is it here if a stone says it can’t be?”
Migo hoisted Percy onto his shoulder and carried him through the village streets, flanked by Meechee, Gwangi, Kolka, and Fleem. A fever of curiosity was spreading among the Yetis. They had spent their lives pushing down questions, and now the questions were all spilling out. Suddenly they had questions about everything and wanted to ask them! Migo beamed. He loved seeing how excited all the Yetis were. It felt great.
The Yetis on unicycles stopped pedaling. The ice-chopping Yetis stopped chopping. The ice ball polishing Yetis stopped polishing. They looked at the world around them with new eyes.
“Is that really a snail?” one Yeti asked, looking at the sun.
“What if it’s not?” another Yeti wondered.
Migo put Percy’s backpack down for a moment. A few toddler Yetis raced forward and rummaged through it, inspecting each item. Percy was trying to explain what they were.
“That’s a snood! It’s sort of like a scarf. And that’s a sock. It’s sort of like a lining between your foot and your shoe.”
One of the toddlers stared at Percy as he slurped up the sock like a strand of spaghetti.
“Okay, that’s really not what you’re supposed to . . . okay,” Percy said.
Gwangi was suddenly standing in front of Percy. He handed him the roll of toilet paper. “The scroll of invisible wisdom,” he announced to the Yetis.
“Oh! That will do quite nicely,” Percy said. He took the roll and ran behind a rock.
“It doesn’t yet trust us with its wisdom,” Gwangi said.
Fleem followed Percy behind the rock to see what he was doing. He quickly returned to the Yetis with a disgusted look on his face.
“It is not wisdom, and it is definitely not invisible,” he said.
Dorgle joined the crowd, nervously listening and watching. His son was really stirring things up!
The procession continued to the palace. One Yeti stepped in front of Migo.
“If the stone is wrong, could another be as well?” she asked.
Dorgle gulped. He turned to see the Stonekeeper towering over him, glowering. Did the Stonekeeper know that Dorgle had missed the gong? Anxious, Dorgle scurried away.
The Stonekeeper looked down at his daughter. “Do you see what you’ve started?”
“Yes!” Meechee replied with a confident smile. “Do you?”
The Stonekeeper shook his head. “You have no idea what you’ve done to them.”
“They’re just curious,” Meechee countered. “What’s wrong with that?”
The Stonekeeper’s gaze traveled around the village. The Yeti had not only stopped working, but were also trying new things. One Yeti hollowed out a ball of ice to make a drum. Another had carved a xylophone out of ice. The drummer started drumming, and the other played a happy melody on the xylophone. The Stonekeeper heaved a heavy sigh.
“Daddy, they have questions,” Meechee said. “And you can give them answers. Be a great leader and give them what they need.”
He nodded. “You’re right, sweetie. That’s what I intend to do.”
Meechee hugged him. “Thank you.”
She thought her father was on her side, but the Stonekeeper had other thoughts. The turret had stopped turning. The ice elevators weren’t moving. And nobody was dropping ice balls into the statue’s mouth.
He knew what he had to do.
He had to get the villagers to stop asking questions, before there would be consequences.