Tessa ran, hunchbacked, through the torrential sleet, trying to protect her ski helmet. Gawion was willing to do his part; another chunk of her plan was in place. But could he? He’d been so shocked when she told him Maeg was in an iron cage. Tessa had wanted to hug him—he’d reminded her of her favourite teddy bear. And a cuddly bear couldn’t do what was required.
At least he wouldn’t be alone. She’d asked him to get his parents to help. Did three cuddly barbegazi trump one evil professor?
She brushed wet branches aside and re-entered the tentlike space under the tree. Sitting on her knees, she showed Gawion how to squeeze the clasp on both sides until it snapped open. Then she put the helmet on and leant forward. “Try. It’s plastic.”
Goose pimples chased chills all over her body, at his icy touch.
Gawion, having unbuckled her helmet for the third time with hesitant, clumsy fingers, shifted his focus to her eyes. “If we succeed—”
“When we succeed,” she said, with a conviction she didn’t feel. Watching him concentrate so hard on opening a clasp had not improved her confidence.
“We are already indebted to you for bringing the berries.” He fiddled with his beard. “And I have something for you.”
The “something” was a coin-sized tangle of hair.
In the low light, it was nearly invisible, blending in with the fur of Gawion’s hand. After taking her gloves off, Tessa picked it up with thumb and forefinger, and brought it closer to her headlamp.
It wasn’t a knot of hair. It was a thousand knots of hair, or the finest threads imaginable. Their intricate pattern formed a shimmering snowflake.
“Wow! It’s beautiful,” she whispered. In comparison, Aunt Annie’s framed lace doilies were plain and lumpy.
“All snowflakes are unique wonders,” Gawion said. “Maman has knotted this one of stamina.”
“Stamina? Isn’t that like strength or energy? How can you knot that into a snowflake?”
“Barbegazi only have little magic, but she has used strands like these.” He lifted part of his beard. The pale hairs gleamed in the light. “And granted you a wish. The snowflake is a token of her promise.” His nose turned the same shade of rosy pink as Mum’s favourite lipstick, and he bent his head in a deep, formal bow.
“A wish? Really?” Tessa smiled despite her worries. “So, can I ask for anything? Like world peace?” she said, expecting a no. She had, after all, read lots of fairy tales.
“That is impossible,” Gawion said.
“Can I visit your caves then?” She’d spent hours on the T-bar imagining cosy igloo-like domes under the snow.
“That requires Maman’s permission, not magic.”
“Okay, then my wish is for Maeg to be safe.”
“You would do that?” Gawion frowned. “Use your wish to help us?”
She nodded.
“Thank you, but if a snowflake charm could save Maeg, Maman would have done it already.”
“Let me think…” Tessa studied the knotted snowflake. If the barbegazi only had limited magic, she should wish for something smaller.
Felix knew the barbegazi existed, but she really wanted Lisa to know. Seeing Lisa’s expression when she met Gawion would be priceless. Tessa could almost hear Lisa’s “Oh my god”, and see her cuddling the barbegazi. They’d be best friends again.
But part of her wanted to be the secret barbegazi protector. To only share the knowledge of their existence with Felix, until the time came for her own grandchild to take over the task of bringing berries.
Perhaps Lisa would like her more if she skied better in the competitions.
“Could I be the fastest tomorrow, and win the ski race?”
“Easily.” Gawion grinned, showing layers of tiny pointed teeth. “You have the ability. You only lack belief in yourself. Is that your wish?”
“No. Wait. I haven’t decided yet.”
It would be cheating, a kind of fairy-doping. Still… Standing on the centre step of the podium, holding the biggest trophy high in the air… Swishing her hair, wavy after she’d taken it out of the plaits, and looking down at Lisa and Maria. Coach would slap her on the back, pleased with the points she’d gained for the team in the seasonal standings. And Mum, after being a nervous wreck while Tessa skied her run, would be so proud, and buy a winner’s round of sodas for everyone.
But no, Mum wouldn’t even be there. Mum might be a nervous wreck tomorrow, though not in St Anton. She’d be in Innsbruck, in the hospital with Oma.
Tessa’s excitement drained away, leaving only worry.
“There is no need to decide now,” Gawion said. “Think for a day, or a year, or a decade. The wish can be fulfilled at any time.”
Tessa traced the fine outline of the snowflake and nodded. She’d save the wish for something that mattered. Right now, the only thing she wanted was for Oma’s broken heart to mend, and fulfilling that wish was clearly beyond barbegazi magic. After wrapping the delicate snowflake in a paper tissue, she put it in the inside breast pocket of her jacket, right next to her own heart.
That night, she lay awake long after Felix had fallen asleep. She’d not shown him the snowflake. Perhaps she never would. Under the duvet, in the light from her headlamp, she tried to follow the knotted paths of the shimmering strands. It might only be a token for a promised wish, but to her it was magical. The threads were much finer than fishing line, and much stronger. Gawion had said they were made of stamina. She still didn’t understand how that was possible, but she believed him.
Clutching the snowflake, Tessa closed her eyes, and wished with all her heart that she could send some of its mysterious strength to Oma.