Page 108 of Stealing Embers
The flying glitter-bomb is back, weaving drunken circles in front of my face. I bat the annoying creature away.
“I don’t want anything to do with you or your crazy plans.”
The sparkles spitting from the little entity take on a reddish hue, and it circles my head, dive-bombing me every few rounds.
“Cut it out!” I shout, ducking and weaving out of the demented creature’s way.
Getting behind me, it whirls like a tornado, spinning right for me. I dive out of the way, only to watch it jerk and circle back at me.
It zips back and forth, once again reminding me of an impatient puppy on a leash.
“I’m familiar with that move. I’m not following you this time. I don’t care who’s lying unconscious.” I brush loose snow off my legs and shake the white specks out of my hair, then get to my feet. Swiveling in the opposite direction, I take off.
I only make it several steps before I’m jerked off my feet . . . by my hair.
“Ow!”
I pitch backward into the snow.
In a fluid motion, I stand again and start chasing the sparkler down the steep mountain, screaming obscenities at it the entire way.
“You psychotic pixie! You’d better pray you’re only a figment of my imagination or I’m going to trap you in a mason jar and use you as a flashlight.”
The stupid thing keeps zipping out of my grasp. Reaching down, I grab a handful of snow and chuck it at the flying light—and miss it by a mile.
“Or better yet! I’m going to pin your wings to a bug board and leave you in the science lab!”
The light stops mid-flight and hovers twenty feet in front of me.
I use every bit of that space to try to brake, as I slide down the slippery slope, grabbing for purchase the entire time. A small evergreen finally stops my momentum. Or maybe it’s the top of a big tree. I’m not sure.
The little sparkler grows into a baseball sized mini-sun. Its edges blaze red, its center blinding yellow. It’s now a pulsating orb of aggression.
Oh, shoot. I took that too far.
I crab-walk backward to put space between myself and the fiery creature. My arms sink into snow that is well past my elbows and my feet slip out from underneath me.
Double shoot.
“Okay, Tinker Bell. How about we both simmer down a bit? You know I’d never actually trap or tack you to anything, right? We’re buds, aren’t we? Friends don’t pin other friends to things. Or, ya know, fry them with magic glitter dust. That’s not something you can do, is it?”
The red and yellow ball drops to the snow and returns to its smaller, less threatening size. It also changes back to its buttery gold color.
My fingers unclench as my breathing evens out.
Note to self: Do not piss off Tinker Bell.
Beyond the creature, the tree line slashes a hunter green border against the sharp white topography. Without realizing it, I traversed down the top quarter of the mountain.
The slope behind me is steep. It would take the better part of the day to get back up to the top.
I hang my head in resignation. Lifting my hand in the air, I wave it around like a dead fish.
“Okay, you win. Lead the way.”
* * *
The light leads me down the rest of the mountain, zigzagging me back and forth so I don’t have to free-climb to reach the valley. The sun hangs heavy in the western sky by the time the ground levels out and the timberline begins.