Kendra sat across from Bernice at a wobbly card table in a back room. Mops and brooms leaned in a corner beside worn cabinets full of cleaning supplies. A hanging lamp with a tin shade provided light. A savory plate of chicken wings sat in front of Kendra, with blue cheese and ranch dressing in little plastic cups. A loaded baked potato awaited on a second plate, alongside a buttery heap of steamed broccoli.

“I joke about Bigfoot all the time,” Bernice said. “I curate the silly shrine. It’s a way to hide my interest in plain sight. I seldom share my actual feelings on the subject. And nobody knows the whole story. But you found me, and you know the local sasquatch is actually a human woman. Nobody besides me knows that, and I’ve never told a soul.”

“How did you find out?” Kendra asked.

“It’s quite a story,” Bernice said. “I’ve been married twice. It didn’t take either time. I lived more adventurously after that. About fifteen years ago, I was hiking in the backcountry with my boyfriend, a fella named Ted. We both loved the outdoors, and we were spending five days hiking and fishing, sleeping under the stars. Imagine our surprise when we came across a mother grizzly leading her two cubs across a meadow.”

“Aren’t they dangerous around their young?” Kendra asked.

“They sure can be,” Bernice said.

“What did you do?” Kendra asked.

“I froze, and Ted gave a shout or two to establish our presence. After a tense pause, the bruin shepherded her cubs away over a rise. Once she was out of sight, we hoofed it in the other direction. We were relieved the bear didn’t seem to want anything to do with us. We never expected a grizzly, but we were traveling with bear spray, so Ted got it out just in case.

“Hiking fast, we had gone maybe two hundred yards before we heard crashing behind us. We turn and this huge mama grizzly is racing toward us like a freight train, full charge, much faster than a human could run, maybe forty yards away when we first spotted her.”

“She got the cubs clear, then came back,” Kendra said.

“That’s what I figure. I’ve always heard to make yourself big, so I raised my arms and gave a shout while Ted fumbled with the bear spray. That mama bear could not have cared less what I was doing. She devoured the ground between us in no time. Ted hollered at me to get down, so I curled up like a fetus, head tucked low, hands on the back of my neck. Ted fired a blast of the spray at the last second, and then the bear was on him.”

“Oh no,” Kendra said.

Bernice shuddered. “I watched out of the corner of my eye as he tried to get down and curl up. That bear bit him on the shoulder and started working him over with her claws. He sprang up and tried to fight, probably trying to protect me, which enraged the bear. She got hold of his neck and shook him around like a toy.”

Kendra winced.

“It was gruesome. I won’t overdo the description. I knew he was extremely dead. After the bear dropped him, she lumbered over to me and bit me on the arm. I tried not to scream from the pain. Her teeth made punctures. I still have faint scars. Fortunately, the bear didn’t latch on. Then I heard the roar.”

“Right in your ear?” Kendra asked.

“The roar didn’t come from any bear,” Bernice said. “No bear could have produced that sound. I felt vibrations in the ground, and I had to cover my ears. The bear gave an odd cry, and I glanced up to see the grizzly bear hefted into the air by a larger creature and then hurled against a tree. The bear looked stunned, and when the sasquatch roared again, it scurried away. Can you imagine a grizzly bear scurrying?”

“I can now,” Kendra said.

“If I thought I was dead with the bear attacking, now I was certain. Breathing hard, the sasquatch approached and stood over me, considerably taller than the grizzly, with broad shoulders and heavy limbs. I stayed down and lowered my gaze to the shaggy, clawed feet. When the creature lifted me up, I had to bite my lip to keep my screams in. The light gray fur was long and coarse, and the sasquatch was immensely strong. I was petrified. If you’re right that she’s a yeti, the light coloring would fit. Anyhow, she carried me a long way to a paved road, set me down, and ran off into the wild.”

“I’m sorry about Ted,” Kendra said.

“I led authorities back to the same clearing where the attack happened,” Bernice said. “But there were no remains. None were ever found.”

“The yeti saved you,” Kendra said.

“That she did,” Bernice said. “I wish she had gotten there earlier. I really liked Ted. Given some time, he might have become my third husband.”

“Was that the last time you saw the yeti?” Kendra asked.

Bernice’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, that was just the beginning. I became a bit obsessed with the yeti after that. I never told the authorities about her. I described the bear attack without mentioning a sasquatch. I didn’t want to bring trouble her way. But I desperately wanted to find her again. Took me three years. Now I see her regularly.”

“Really?” Kendra asked.

“Really and truly,” Bernice said. “I bring her food. I have some friends who are hunters. They save certain parts of their kills for me. She also loves beef ribs.”

“How do you know where to find her?” Kendra asked.

“We have developed a rapport,” Bernice said. “I’m fascinated by her, and she seems to appreciate that I’m familiar. Of course, she also likes the treats I bring.”

“She has learned to trust you,” Kendra said.

“I’ve only seen her human form twice,” Bernice said softly.

“Did she talk to you?” Kendra asked.

Bernice shook her head. “Both of those times I caught her sleeping. The first time, I had no idea why I had found a young woman napping on a bed of crushed evergreen boughs. I was startled by her native beauty, despite her filthy and unkempt state. I wondered if the sasquatch had rescued another human, and I resolved to wake her up. Before I could reach her, the woman began to swell. Bestial features deformed her face, and the rags she wore disappeared into her fur. Once the transformation was complete, she awoke, with no trace of humanity remaining.”

“She reverts to her human form in her sleep?” Kendra asked.

“Not as a rule,” Bernice said. “I know she also sleeps in yeti form. But the two times I came upon her as a human, she changed back into a yeti before waking.”

“Can you take me to her?” Kendra asked.

“I wouldn’t share so much if I weren’t willing to try,” Bernice said. “I’ve never attempted this with anyone. I’m not sure how the yeti will react when she detects a new scent. But you have a message from her family?”

“I’ve met her brother,” Kendra said. “This yeti stuff is part of an ancient curse. She needs to remember who she is. Hopefully that will give her more control over the changes. When you saw her human form, I assume there was no moon.”

“It was in the daytime on both occasions,” Bernice said. “She sleeps more often during the day than at night.”

“She’s like a werewolf,” Kendra said. “We won’t want to approach while the moon is out.”

“Then our soonest chance is tomorrow afternoon,” Bernice said. “Moon is up in the morning right now. Do you live nearby?”

“I’m not from around here,” Kendra said.

“Do you have a car?” Bernice asked.

Kendra cringed and winced. “Not even that.”

“How are you getting around?” Bernice asked. “Aren’t you a little young to be on your own like this?”

“My Uncle Virgil is with me,” Kendra said. “We’re improvising how we get around.”

“Is he a good person?” Bernice asked.

“He’s great,” Kendra said. “Kind. A little nerdy, if anything.”

“Let me meet the guy,” Bernice said. “If I get a good feeling about him, I’ll invite you two to stay with me tonight. Does he need a meal?”

“I bet he’d love that,” Kendra said.

“Then we’ll get on bicycles tomorrow,” Bernice said. “I have two, and I can borrow a third from a friend.”

“Bicycles?” Kendra asked.

“You’ll see,” Bernice said with a smile.

They found the East Portal of the Route of the Hiawatha at the end of a winding road just over the Montana state line. Bernice parked her truck partway down the long parking lot. Virgil hopped out and began to unload the bicycles from the bed. Noble and Glory circled in the sky high above. Shielding her eyes from the afternoon sun, Kendra squinted up at the winged steeds.

Bernice followed her gaze. “Look at that. A pair of bald eagles.”

Kendra felt glad to know how the flying horses appeared to mortal eyes. “Do you see many eagles around here?”

“Occasionally,” Bernice said. Straddling his bike, Virgil walked it forward to get some momentum, then hopped onto the seat and started pedaling. He wobbled at first, then evened out as he picked up speed. “Looks like Virgil could use some practice.”

“He never owned a bike,” Kendra said. In fact, the satyr had secretly learned to ride a bike in the dark on Bernice’s street the night before. She had a modest home in a town called Kellogg. Kendra had slept in the spare room and Virgil had crashed on the couch.

Bernice handed Kendra a bicycle helmet. “There’s a headlamp on your handlebars and a spare on your helmet.”

“Will I need the light?” Kendra asked.

“The Hiawatha Trail used to be a railroad,” Bernice said. “This first tunnel is more than a mile long. You’ll be grateful for the light—and for the jacket I loaned you. Might as well put it on now.”

The afternoon was so warm that Kendra had a hard time imagining she could feel cold, but she followed the instructions. And though she could see in the dark, she knew it made sense to pretend to need the light as well.

Bernice strapped on her helmet and mounted her bike, and they were off. Kendra played with the gears until she liked the resistance. They caught up to Virgil and found the yawning mouth of a tunnel waiting to greet them. Bernice switched on her headlamp and Kendra did likewise.

Kendra led the way into the echoey darkness. The temperature plunged rapidly as the entrance shrank into a window of light behind them. Water dripped from the high ceiling and gurgled in the deep gutters cut along the sides of the trail. She biked carefully, trying to avoid puddles without slipping on the mud.

Before long, Kendra could see neither the entrance nor the exit. The long, dark tunnel seemed to stretch on forever. She wondered where all the water came from as it continued to weep down the walls and trickle from the roof. How much mountain was on top of her at this point? Her jacket could not repel the frigid air. As her hands began to grow numb, Kendra pedaled harder to generate heat.

Eventually the far end of the tunnel came into view, sides straight, top arched. They rode out into the blinding daylight. Both Virgil and Bernice had a brown stripe up their backs from cycling through the wet mud. The cold from the tunnel lingered even under the heat of the day. Kendra took off her jacket, switched off the headlamp, and then followed Bernice along a path that trended downhill. She slowed on occasion to appreciate the dramatic vistas of hills thickly forested with evergreens.

“This is beautiful,” Virgil called over to Kendra.

She nodded, barely remembering to turn her light back on as they entered the next tunnel. Darkness closed in, but this tunnel was not nearly as long or as cold as the first. More tunnels followed, along with astonishing panoramas. They crossed high trestle bridges, biking above the surrounding treetops. They passed bikers going at a more leisurely pace, some with young kids, and occasionally got passed by speedsters. When Kendra glanced at the sky, she could always spot Noble and Glory in view, though often at a considerable distance.

Kendra’s attention was on a chipmunk when Bernice unexpectedly skidded to a halt. “This is where we make our own trail.”

Following Bernice’s lead, Kendra and Virgil walked their bikes uphill off the trail and stashed them against some trees. “We’re on foot from here,” Bernice said. “A couple of hours, if the sasquatch, I mean yeti, is where I expect. Get used to moving quietly so we don’t spook her. Follow my lead. If she is awake, keep still and let her come to you. If she’s asleep, I’ll approach first.”

“All right,” Kendra said.

“There is a chance she’ll retreat from your scent,” Bernice said. “But we’ll do our best to get the message to her.”

Bernice led them on a pathless route. The trees pressed close, and the air was warm enough that Kendra began to sweat. She found the sappy tang of the evergreens refreshing.

“How do you communicate with the yeti?” Kendra asked.

“We haven’t held conversations,” Bernice said. “She has never made sounds beyond growls, snarls, or roars. I sometimes speak softly to her, like how a person might speak to a familiar dog. I don’t really expect comprehension or responses.”

“I hope she can understand, at least a little,” Kendra said. “Otherwise, this becomes much harder.”

“It might be wise to prepare for the worst,” Bernice said.

As they paralleled a little trickle of a stream, Kendra imagined herself playing charades with Bigfoot. When they reached a soggy area where the water pooled, they cut up and over the shoulder of a hill and down to a scant path peppered with deer pellets. The path descended into a ravine, where they left the trail to climb a steep rise. At the top, Bernice raised a finger to her lips.

Crouching low, Kendra tensed up.

“Lately, she has inhabited the edge of a meadow on the far side of this little ridge,” Bernice whispered. “Let’s stay calm, especially if we see her. It’s time to be extra slow and quiet.”

Taking some deep breaths, Kendra tried to dispel her nervousness. What if the feral side of Magdalena’s personality took over? What if the approach of two unfamiliar people sent her into a frenzy? Kendra tried to banish her worries. Such thoughts would make her telegraph tension and fear.

Easing over the ridgetop, Kendra immediately saw the yeti, surprisingly close, lying on her side with her broad, furry back facing them. The massive torso expanded and contracted with her breathing, long strands of pale fur subtly shifting with the movement.

Her stomach fluttering, Kendra looked to Bernice for advice on how to proceed.

“Asleep,” Bernice mouthed. She held up a finger, then quietly unslung the military-style rucksack she was carrying and fished out large Ziploc bags crammed with raw meat. As she started opening the bags, the yeti stirred.

“It’s me and two friends,” Bernice said softly.

The yeti jerked, then leapt to her feet with alarming speed, confronting the three newcomers in a crouch. Kendra flinched away but held her ground and tried to project calmness. The yeti had enormous, claw-tipped hands and feet. If the creature stood up straight, Kendra estimated she would be at least the height of a basketball hoop.

The yeti motioned at Kendra and Virgil and gave a short, angry roar.

“They’re friends,” Bernice said, speaking with slow, exaggerated clarity. “They knew about you before they met me.”

The yeti growled and chuffed as Bernice spoke.

“We’re here to help you,” Kendra said tentatively.

The yeti gave an angry snarl that showed her fearsome teeth.

“Your name is Magdalena,” Kendra tried.

At the sound of the name, the yeti fell silent, and her posture relaxed.

“Yes,” Kendra said. “You’re Magdalena. I was just with your brother, Merek. Do you remember Merek?”

The yeti stared at Kendra with grave interest, then edged forward, sniffing. Holding still, Kendra glanced at Bernice, who stared earnestly and gave Kendra an encouraging nod. The yeti crept toward Kendra, who held out her hand flat as she might to a dog. Ignoring the proffered hand, the yeti grabbed Kendra’s shoulders with her strong, oversized hands and leaned in to sniff Kendra’s hair. Then the yeti sat back on her haunches and nodded vigorously at Kendra, breathing rapidly.

“Can you smell him?” Kendra asked. “Can you smell Merek on me?” How many days had it been since she was with Merek? Before the Fairy Realm.

The yeti clapped her hands once and nodded more.

“Merek needs you,” Kendra said, keeping her voice even and calm. “Your family needs you. Konrad. Nadia. Merek. Gerwin. The dragons have declared war. And they are winning. The world needs you. Can you understand me? You are a legendary Dragon Slayer. You earned the yeti’s fang. And your family needs you. Magdalena, do you understand?”

The yeti chuffed and stomped a foot. She shifted so she was sitting cross-legged, back erect, hands on her knees. Her breathing deepened, and her eyes slowly closed.

Kendra glanced at Bernice, who looked astonished.

The yeti opened her mouth wide, showing sharp teeth and fangs. Kendra watched as the yeti began to shrink. Almost imperceptibly at first, her mass started to dwindle. Her shoulders narrowed, her limbs lost thickness. Her hands and feet shrank. The diminishing continued, hair retracting into her skin, arms and legs shortening. The yeti contracted into the shape of a young woman, sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, wearing a tattered brown dress. A large, yellowed fang hung from a cord around her neck.

“Magdalena?” Kendra tried.

The young woman swayed, then coughed several times. Her face scrunched and her eyes squinted against the late afternoon sun—green eyes that contrasted against the short, dark hair on her head. She didn’t look much older than Kendra.

“You know Merek?” Magdalena asked, the words hesitant.

“Yes,” Kendra said. “I left him a couple of days ago.”

“You can speak,” Bernice said, amazed.

“I remember you,” Magdalena said. “You cared for me, though it feels like a dream. Thank you.”

“You saved my life,” Bernice said.

“I’m glad to hear that, though I don’t recall,” Magdalena said. “Your kindness left an impression.” She looked at Virgil. “Who is the satyr?”

“I’m Virgil.”

“He helped me get here,” Kendra said.

“A satyr?” Bernice asked. “What was that about a dragon war? Who are you people?”

Kendra glanced at Bernice. “Yetis are just the beginning. There is a hidden world of magic all around us.” Kendra returned her gaze to Magdalena. “The dragons have destroyed all seven sanctuaries. Only Selona is left.”

“Speaking of dragons, I sense one,” Magdalena said, sniffing and cocking her head slightly. “Did you notice anything unusual on your way here?”

“I don’t think—” Kendra began when the huge head of a dragon shot out from between two large evergreens and snatched Magdalena in its jaws. Her thrashing legs dangled out of the dragon’s mouth, but the reptilian head rose up, chomped twice, and swallowed her.

The vast dragon was thundercloud gray, with glossy black horns. Bernice screamed. The dragon opened its jaws and snatched her up next, leaving behind part of one leg. The fierce head bobbed down again and gobbled her limb up as well.

“Close your eyes, Virgil!” Kendra cried, shutting her own and reaching for her power. Stunned and scared, resisting the paralyzing influence of the dragon fear, she blazed with all the brightness she could generate until a huge dragon claw grabbed her.

“Stop that shining,” a calm, urbane voice invited, with a resonance like fifty gentlemen speaking in unison. “I have you and the satyr and will crush you both unless you extinguish that light.” The dragon gave a squeeze that drove the breath from Kendra’s lungs and made her bones creak.

“All right,” Kendra said, dousing her light. “Don’t hurt him!”

“That’s better,” the dragon said. “One more flash and I will squash you.”

“You ate them!” Kendra shouted.

“Magdalena has slain many of my kind without remorse,” the dragon said.

“Bernice never did anything to your kind!” Kendra yelled.

“Incorrect,” the dragon said with a smile in his tone. “She fed me.”

Kendra pushed with all her might against the constraining grip of his claws, but to no avail. Aware of the futility, she relaxed. “What happens now?”

“If killing you had been my aim, you would already be dead,” the dragon said. “Your satyr friend too. But my father wants you alive.”

“Your father?” Kendra asked.

“My name is Jeruwat,” the dragon said. “I am the competent son.”

“Your father is Celebrant?” Kendra asked.

“The one and only,” Jeruwat said. “I have stalked this yeti for quite some time. Your approach provided just the distraction I needed. Thank you.”

Wriggling in his iron grasp, Kendra screamed in frustration.

“I believe you know my half-brother, Raxtus,” Jeruwat said. “I’ll come for him soon.”

The dragon released Kendra, turned, and sprang away, knocking aside a few trees in the process. An instant later he was completely out of sight, disappearing as quickly as he had come.

Kendra looked over to find Virgil seated ten yards away. The satyr appeared stunned.

A moment later, Noble and Glory landed between them.

“Oh, Kendra,” Glory fussed. “We came as soon as we saw the dragon!”

“Shall I give chase?” Noble asked.

“No,” Kendra said, fighting off shock, trying to hold back tears. “We’ve already lost enough today.”