Leif sauntered along the edge of the pasture, hitting each fencepost with a particularly epic stick he had just found. It made a resounding thunk as he rapped it against the damp wood. More importantly, it assured him that each part of the fence was working. So far, his stick had met with resistance at every turn. There was no broken space Cow could have walked through.
Suddenly, Leif remembered that there were two other kinds of clues he was supposed to be looking for. Stopping in his tracks, he turned back the way he had come and glanced along the ground. There did not seem to be any trampled spots of grass, and the only footprints there were his own. A different cow mooed forlornly from the pasture to his left. Leif sighed. He was sure the cow was as skeptical of this method as he was. Why was he supposed to be checking the fence? Of course it was working. Then again—Sivert was the real detective here.
The angle of the ground was right in this spot, so Leif could see out past their mountains and across the river valley, where a faint line of other, really far away mountains was barely visible against the sky. Over to the right, a barn was nestled into the side of the hill. A woman made her way along the slope, a big bucket dangling from either hand. Walking along the trodden grass that came down from the house, Tess' Mum set her load down at the corner of the building and shoved the barn door open.
Leif stuck his stick point down into the mud for safekeeping and ran over to her. He had to run. Without the momentum he never would have made it up the slope that hedged the path.
"What mischief are you up to now?" Tess' Mum asked, dusting off her hands and picking up the buckets again.
"I'm searching for Cow," Leif said. He darted past her into the barn and looked back to face her as she came. "Tess was missing her this morning and we got worried. Sivert has a whole plan!"
Something moved in the corner of his vision. He turned, expecting to face one of the town cats walking along the top of a stall door, or even a bat that had gotten confused about what time it was. Instead, he met the baleful eyes of a much larger creature. Cow leaned her head over the stall door and blinked slowly. She had a patch of white between her eyes almost like a star. There was no mistaking the marking—Leif knew it was her.
"Isn't that something," Tess' Mum said. She had both buckets in one hand now and was reaching for a stool with the other. "I didn't have time to milk her this morning—forgot I had put the laundry up to dry and then it started to drizzle. I'll put her out to pasture after this. Why don't you run off and tell my daughter not to fret herself?"
"Sure thing!" Leif said, but he only made it to the doorway before he turned back. "Can I have some milk first?"
"Have some when you get back, or else you'll get distracted."
Leif nodded and darted back outside. There was a slight breeze, and it was clearing the fog a little. Sivert and Tess could not have gotten far. If he backtracked, he could catch them before long. Skidding down the steep hill and smearing mud up his shins, he landed back on the path that wound alongside the pasture.
Something caught his eye, and he stopped mid step. There in the mud before him was a track he had never seen before. It was a lot like a chicken's print, but when he crouched and spread his hand out over it his fingers barely brushed the edges. There was another just like it a few inches ahead, and another a few inches ahead of that. Leif stood up, taking a few hesitant steps forward. The same tracks were printed all down the path in a strange pattern, some far, and some on top of each other.
Leif may not have been a real detective like Sivert—but even he realized that this was some kind of clue. He had to follow. Standing up, he ran down the path after the mysterious tracks, boots squelching in the same mud. The cows stared at him, turning their heads slowly to keep pace with his stride. Leif laughed. He liked to provide entertainment. Everyone should be as happy as he was.
Before long the footprints curved left, up across another hillside pasture, and onward towards the mountain. Leif climbed after them, grabbing tufts of grass to help himself up the bank of the path and slipping under the fence at the edge. Here there was less mud, but up ahead was a patch of snow, caught in the shadow of a large tree. The tracks were there too, and in the mud in the path on the other side. Leif cut across and began walking up the second trail, still following the course of the strange markings.
As he trekked forward and upward, the fenced fields grew rarer and rarer until Leif was surrounded only by trees. When he looked back, he could not see the roofs of the houses he had left behind. He huffed, but the air was not cold enough for breath to be visible. He had been walking nearly half an hour, and he had a sinking feeling that he was going to miss lunchtime. How far was he going to have to go to solve the mystery?
The woods were tame. Perhaps theyhad once been full of brambles, but foresters had lived in these mountains for centuries, so the space between the trees was clear, the paths wide and clearly marked. Snow drifted in clumps, the tops hardened by parts which had thawed in the sunlight and then frozen again. The ice bit at Leif's ankles as he trudged through the old snow, up the ever steepening slope. He huffed again. This was tiring, but at least the snow made the tracks clearer.
The end of his journey came on him so suddenly that he almost missed it. To the left, in the lee of a hill, the strange tracks veered off the trail again, winding towards some stacks of firewood which the foresters had left to dry. Behind the woodpiles a dark figure hunched down in the snow, pulsing in slow breaths like a cat sleeping. Leif’s breath caught in his throat. It was bigger than Tess’ sheepdog, but not as big as Cow. Any further details were hard to see clearly from this angle.
Taking a few halting steps forward, he edged around the firewood to get a clearer line of sight. Each of his footsteps crunched in the snow. It was the only sound he could hear.
He could see better now that he was getting closer. Instead of fur, the animal was covered with shiny black feathers. He huddled against the back of the woodpile, limbs drawn close to his body, as if he were trying to take up as small of a space as possible. Short knobbly wings protruded from his shoulders, small and useless like a duckling’s. Leif took another step, and the movement snapped a branch which had been hidden under the half melted snow. The creature’s head shot up, pivoting to stare at him. His eyes were beady and bright.
"What are you?" Leif breathed.
The creature shifted and stood, gaze unyielding, and took a step forward. It was hard to tell if he meant to be menacing. Horses and dogs bent their ears backwards when they were angry, sometimes even baring their teeth, but this creature had no ears and a beak. His attitude was impossible to read. Without any clear way to communicate, the two of them stood frozen and staring until Leif's boredom outweighed his caution—which is to say, not for a very long time.
"Where did you come from?" Leif said, taking a hesitant step forward and stretching out his hand. He was not expecting a response, but he still felt disappointed when the creature only turned its head quizzically. The mountain towered behind them. As far as Leif could tell, there were only trees forever that way.
"I guess you came from the north. Is that where your home is?"
The creature took a step forward too, and then another step. Straining his neck, he reached and cautiously bit the edge of Leif's mitten and pulled it off his hand.
Leif giggled. "I like you!”
His new acquaintance promptly dropped the mitten, leaning forward again to nibble softly at Leif’s bare fingers. There was something in the gesture that reminded Leif of the way that kittens played.
His stomach grumbled.
"I'm hungry," Leif announced, bending to pick up the dropped mitten, "Are you hungry? Let’s go home and get a snack."
The friendly monster pecked the back of his neck. It did not hurt—he was just tapping, curious. His beak was cold though.
Leif reached up and pushed the creature's face away so that he had room to stand. "Do you like bread? My mom makes good bread. Or maybe you eat seeds, like a chicken! We have that too."
The monster squawked. It was timed like a response, but it was probably just because Leif had pushed him.
Slipping his mitten back on, Leif grabbed a tuft of the monster's feathers and dragged him forward. "Come home with me! We can get a snack together!"
Jerking back from his grasp, the monster squawked again and nipped at his ear.
"Ow!" Leif yelped.. It had not been a mean bite, but covered his ear with his hand just in case. "Should I not pull your feathers? But you'll have to follow me on your own then."
While he spoke, the monster turned and bounded away until he reached the crest of the next hill. Then he stopped, sat down and looked back. He was still standing on the path.
"That's the right way!" Leif said, running up to the top of the hill where his new friend sat and then right past him, down the other side. "We live on the side of the mountain! I'll race you home!"
The monster came crashing behind him, and Leif whooped in the exhilaration of the moment. Gravity would do most of the work on his return journey, and when he arrived he could tell Sivert how good he was at solving mysteries. Oh, and his parents were going to be so excited when they found out about his awesome new pet!