Before the Snow Began to Fall

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Author's note: This is a story about a meeting between two very different boys. A story of friendship, love, magic, time and storytelling.

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Before the Snow Began to Fall

by Winter

 "Once upon a time..."

The old woman fell silent, and she gave her companion a faint smile. Knowing better than to show impatience, Kim grinned back at her, as if he had just heard something that made sense. A gust of icy wind found its way in through his yak skin coat, and he resisted the urge to shiver. It wouldn't do, after all, to be sent back inside now that he had finally been allowed to go out of the village, almost on his own.

"Once upon a time."

More silence. It was frustrating! Was this yet another test? Another way he could foul up and get chained to boring old chores again? Or maybe this time he was supposed to ask. To get the story started. How was he to know? The old ones were impossible to understand sometimes.

The quiet stretched out, and in the end it was another cold wind that jarred the woman out of her reverie. She met Kim's eyes and smiled again.

"Once upon a time."

"Lore Mother?" Kim squeaked, failing to make his voice sound grown and mature. "Lore Mother, what...?"

"That was how many stories began, long ago. It's a good beginning, I think. A nice way to get things going. Don't you agree, child?"

"Yes, Lore Mother, but... upon what time?"

"A very wise question, from one so young."

"I'm not that young, Lore Mother," Kim protested, doing his best to keep scoff out of his voice. "I'll be almost nine soon!"

"To me, my little one, even your mother is still a child. Now, can you guess what time our story is about?"

"The..." Kim reached up and scratched the tip of his nose, making his whiskers twitch and rub against the side of his hood. This caused him to sneeze, but it also helped clear his mind. "The long-before, right?"

"To your health, child," the Lore Mother chuckled. "And yes, the long-before. We're going so far back that the snow hadn't begun to fall yet, and the world was very warm."

"Warm as indoors?"

"Warmer still. Our long-ago fathers and mothers could go outside without clothes if they wanted, and sleep under the stars with no need for fires or blankets."

"Why didn't they freeze, Lore Mother?"

"The sun was young back then, Kim. Young and strong. She gave us heat as well as light, and made the world a place lush with green growing things, where all manners of creatures ran, and hopped, and flew. It was a time that those of us who live in the here-and-now can barely even imagine."

"Were there..." Kim wrinkled his forehead as he tried to choose the correctest word for his favourite kind of ancient growing thing. This was a tale he had never heard before, and new things always excited him. "Were there trees?"

"Yes, my dear. Many, many trees."

"Tall as the ice rim, from the water to the top?"

"Not quite that tall!" She laughed. "No living things were ever tall as the rim. It is the world's edge, after all, where the endless sea begins. But the trees were taller than all the men in our village, even if they stood one on top of the other."

"Wow!"

"And they had many, many long branches that the children could use for climbing."

"I bet that was fun!" Kim squeaked, bouncing up and down. "I'd climb and climb, 'til I could see the whole world!"

"That is what he thought."

"Who thought, Lore Mother? Who?"

"The boy this story is about. He lived in a village not far from where we are standing now, and he was about your age. When he climbed the trees, he thought that what he saw, was all there was to see."

"Was he a mousie, like me? I bet he was!" Kim squeezed his slim tail between mittened hands, trying to keep his excitement in check. "Or a fox like you, Lore Mother?"

"No, child, he was not. Remember, this was in the long-before. Back then, people didn't need fur. This boy was a human."

"A furless one? But... I thought they weren't real. Just story folks."

"All stories are real, Kim. To some extent, at least."

"I don't understand."

"You will. We are in a magic place, after all. Look around and tell me what you see."

"Just snow and ice, Lore Mother. Like everywhere. There's no huts, 'cause we're way out of sight from the village. I can't even see any herd tracks, just our own footprints from when we got here."

"Some day you might look around and see the green growing places. Pools of water so warm you could swim in them. Trees and flowers and animals, children playing."

"Can you see all that?"

"As clearly as I can see you, my young friend, but inside my head. In my mind they are as real now as they once were. These are Lore grounds, where the stories are kept alive. Can't you feel them?"

Kim closed his eyes and tried to feel something. Anything. Minutes ticked by, then it was as if something touched him. A puff of warm air, which triggered a memory that couldn't possibly be his. A memory of dark brown eyes, of a flat and furless face. Of a friendly smile. Eager for more, Kim reached out to touch the face, but when he did he fell over and landed in the snow.

"I felt it!" he cried as he jumped to his feet and brushed snow off his coat and breeches. "I think I felt it, Lore Mother."

"Very good. I knew you would, Kim. Many storytellers have felt the winds of other times here, in this place. As I said, these are Lore grounds."

"What about the boy, Lore Mother? What happened to him?"

"He came here, as well. In the long-before, with his own Lore Mother. They, too, could feel the winds of time, and she brought him here to see if he were ready to learn the tales."

"Was he ready?"

"Are you ready, Kim?"

"I think so. Will I really be a storyteller?"

"Yes. I'm getting old, Kim, and we need someone who can keep the stories alive."

"Wow."

"He said so, too. In his own tongue."

"The furless boy?" She nodded. "Tell me more."

"Back then there were stone huts here. Really big ones, taller than the trees and wider than our entire village. Inside them slept the kings of old, and there were places of magic hidden in their depths. The Lore Mother told this boy that he must go in there, to find his own story."

"To make one up?" Kim asked, his voice little more than a whisper and his slender mouse tail clutched to his chest. The thought of whole huts made from stone was not an easy one to wrap his head around. In all his life, Kim had seen no more of the rare material than would fit under a blanket. "Like I do for the littlest kids before they go to bed?"

"No, he had to go inside the stone hut to find a real story. A tale of his own. And so he did. With nothing more than a treewood torch to light his way, he searched through long, dark tunnels until he found the place of magic. There, he met himself and learned many stories."

"How could he meet himself, Lore Mother?"

"Because it was a place of magic. At such a point, in and out of the world and time, many things might happen. This boy met himself, and they spoke to each other, and the boy learned much that he had never known."

"I still don't understand."

"You will. Soon, you will."

"So what happened to the boy? Did he get out of there?"

"Yes, he did. He lived to become a wise old Lore Father, and he passed on much knowledge to later years. But he never forgot the boy he met inside the magic chamber."

"Himself?"

"Yes. One of his selves."

"Huh?"

"Do as I, child." She pulled back her hood and turned her face up toward the sun. Its bright orange light gave her pale red fur an almost yellow hue. Frowning from all the things he didn't understand, Kim followed suit. "What do you feel?"

"Warmth."

"Yes. Though she is old, the sun still gives us enough warmth to live. What else do you feel?"

"I'm not... sure... Aah!"

Suddenly, a wave of heat struck Kim's face, as if he had gone too close to a blazing fireplace. He gasped as his skin soon felt unbearably hot underneath his bright white fur, but when he reached up to unbutton his coat a firm hand stopped him.

"Don't take your clothes off, dear. It's still very cold outside your mind."

"My mind?" Kim opened his eyes, and the chill struck him as if he had been slapped in the face. "Eep!"

"There are many worlds here. Hot and cold, new and old. Kim, do you understand why I have brought you here, to tell you what I could easily have spoken of back home?"

"Because... because I had to feel it before I could learn it."

"You will become an excellent Lore Father one day." She smiled warmly, then covered herself with her hood. Kim did likewise, shivering in the cold. "For your years, you have much wisdom."

"I know almost nothing," Kim muttered, his face heating from the unexpected praise. "At least, nothing of magic and the old stories."

"Wisdom and knowledge are as different as light is from dark. Without wisdom, knowledge is cold as a night without a fire. You cannot learn to be wise, Kim, you can only feel and observe and find your own truths."

"Like feeling the... the wind of time or whatever you called it, Lore Mother?"

"Precisely. If I had just told you, would you have believed me?"

"I wouldn't have called you a liar, Lore Mother. But I wouldn't have really understood it."

"A cautious answer, and honest. You are ready to go."

She opened a pocket in her wide coat and pulled out a bone-crafted oil lamp, which she handed to Kim. He swallowed around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat. Surely she didn't mean... that he...? But it was useless to fight against that thought. Of course she did! Why had the Lore Mother told him all this if not because he, too, would have to go and find his own story? Only... did it have to be so soon?

Without a word, she led him further away from the village, up and down dunes of snow until they reached a mountain of ice. Kim's heart started beating faster and faster as he saw the opening of a dark cave. Sure enough, the two of them walked straight up to it. His hand trembled as the Lore Mother lit the lamp with a firestick, but he steeled himself and pulled back his hood.

If the boy in the story could do this, then so could he!

* * * * * *

Kim shook the oil lamp gently and shuddered at the faint splash he heard from inside it. Not much left. Soon he would have to decide whether to turn back while he still had light, or press on and maybe have to feel his way through total darkness. He wasn't scared of the dark, not really. At least, not back home in his hut, where he knew that there was a candleholder and some firesticks right by his bedfurs, and where Mama was usually in the next room.

This was different. Kim had lost track of time, but he felt sure that he had been going down, down, down for hours. It had been midday when he went in, and it was probably dark at the entrance now. Was the Lore Mother still waiting for him? No, he felt sure that she had gone home to her evening meal and a warm fire. The way she always seemed to know things, she would be back when he came up.

With his thoughts wandering, he failed to see a bump in the floor, and he almost toppled head over tail into the dark. With a squeak of fright, he slid a few metres down the tunnel before he found his footing again.

Panting hard, his heart beating rapidly inside his scrawny chest, Kim chastised himself. It wouldn't do to smash the lamp, and have to crawl back out of the tunnel as a failure. Not to mention fall and break his bones! Steeling himself to keep his mind in the here-and-now, he started walking again, making sure his boots caught hold before shifting his weight.

Then, all of a sudden, there was no more ice. The tunnel continued, but the familiar reflection of bluish white gave way to impossibly dark walls. The transition was so sudden, so unexpected that Kim gasped. For a second he imagined himself being swallowed up by some unknown creature; a beast of the deeps that could move through the ice and hunted down here and just waited for little mouse boys to come along so it could catch them and kill them and eat them...

Kim slapped his face to stop the fearthoughts, but he couldn't keep himself from falling over backwards. He let out a grunt of pain as his rump landed on the floor, but at least he managed not to drop the lamp. With a shuddering thought that he would find the ground soft and squidgy and warm and alive, he pulled off his glove and felt around.

Stone.

Yes, it had to be stone. Much darker than the knife shards and tool rocks that the people of the village used, and so much bigger. Here, the stone was all around him, and still the tunnel continued its steep descent. Kim's head began to spin. If he could bring back just a couple of pocketfuls, everyone would cheer for him. Mama would be so proud!

But it wasn't his stone. This was a Lore place, and it belonged to itself. It wouldn't do to steal, and maybe awaken some old dream or story that would be best left sleeping. Another shiver ran through Kim as he remembered some of the Lore Mother's more frightening tales, of the long-before and the never-was. Dragons, monsters, untold terrors that hid just out of sight, waiting for the hero to make one final fatal mistake.

And here, down in this tunnel, there was no other hero than Kim, and if he did something stupid it could cost him his head. He patted the stone wall, silently cursing himself for getting so worked up, so scared. Of course, nothing happened, and after a few moments he sighed deeply, and continued downwards.

It was a strange feeling to walk here. The stone did not give way at all; when he put his feet down they didn't slide or sink, not even half of half an inch. For someone like Kim, who had spent his entire life on ice and snow, it was difficult at first, and he stumbled a couple of times before he began to learn.

Soon, though, he could walk almost without the need to think each and every step in advance. But then he noticed something else. It was getting warm. Not like everyday indoors warm, but really hot. Kim found himself panting, tongue lolling out, before he thought to remove his coat. Even his shirt was too warm, not to mention his thick, furry breeches and his heavy boots. After a moment's hesitation, he stripped down to his socks and his loincloth, and left the rest behind as he resumed his walk. Hopefully, he wouldn't need his clothes until it was time to go back home.

And hopefully, he thought with cheeks burning, nobody would come along to see him so almost-naked. This was the first time he had ever been this undressed, outside his own home or the steambaths. And even there he was usually alone, save for Mama and maybe one or two of his friends. The thought that a stranger might see him in little but his own fur made him terribly embarrassed, but he took a deep breath and quenched the feeling.

After all, he was alone down here, deep underneath the ice and snow in a tunnel of precious stone.

* * * * * *

There was barely enough oil left in his lamp to make the tiniest splash as he shook it, when Kim reached the door. Or at least, what he thought was a door. He had heard of them in stories, but in his life he had only ever seen hide flaps covering hut openings. This seemed to fit the descriptions, though.

The tunnel had levelled out and become smoother in the last half-hundred metres, forming a square rather than round hole down into darkness. Up until now, because here it ended. And here, was the door.

On the right-hand side of the tunnel, just before it ended in a flat wall, sat a rectangle of a different colour. All around, the stone was a lighter tone than it had been in the round tunnel, but the door was golden like a candle-flame, and looked unlike anything Kim had ever seen. It reflected the light from his lamp, the same way water sometimes showed him his face. Whenever he moved, lights and shadows played all around him. It was very pretty, and totally alien to his mind.

Doors opened, that much Kim knew, but he had to pause and gather every bit of his courage before he dared to try it. Would he find the magic place inside? Or just more tunnels? The latter thought made him feel very uneasy. Thus far, the way back had been straight, easy to navigate even in darkness, but more tunnels might get him lost. He did not much fancy spending the rest of his days feeling around for a way out, that might forever elude him.

In the end it was curiosity that won out. Curiosity, and a gnawing hunger inside his tummy. He wished he had thought to bring a strip or two of smoked yak meat, or maybe a hide-flask of Mama's marrow broth. Hoping that he might at least find some water inside, he pushed the door.

Nothing happened.

Nothing kept on happening while he examined the rim of the door, feeling for a crack or something he could pull on. But there was nothing. In the end he got so frustrated that he kicked it, forgetting that he was no longer wearing his sturdy boots. The pain that shot through his toes made him hop around on one foot, loudly cursing his rotten luck.

Once he had calmed down, he saw that marks had appeared on the shiny surface of the door. Kim knew about writings, but he had never learned how to read. He could recognise his own name if he saw it drawn in snow, or written on a piece of hide parchment, but that was about it. These markings didn't really look like writing, more like pictures of tiny little creatures and objects. He reached out to touch them, and recoiled when he felt how warm the door had become.

Surely it must be a magical thing! He searched his mind for a story the Lore Mother had told the tribe years ago, about a strange material that was... how did she say it?... 'harder than bone, rarer than stone, and shines with a light of its own'. The door didn't really shine, except for when his lamp made it cast reflections. It was hard, though, as the throbbing in Kim's toes could verify, and it was surely rare, since he had never seen it before. According to the stories, it could be shaped into both armour and weapons, and maybe even work a magic of its own. The name eluded him for a couple of minutes, while he re-told the Lore Mother's tale to himself. In the end he found it, in a song about a brave knight and his sword made of...

Leaning in close to the door, Kim whispered one single word.

"Metal."

A faint click was heard, then the door swung outwards. Kim had to jump aside to avoid it, but soon he was back, peering curiously into this new darkness. To his slight disappointment, all he saw was a small square room, no bigger than his hut back home. He stepped inside, then immediately wished he hadn't.

Behind him, the metal door closed quietly.

* * * * * *

Kim's heart raced, and his lower lip began to quiver. No matter how thoroughly he searched for clues, he just couldn't open the door this time. He tried talking to it again, but that did no good. Neither did shouting, and the echoes hurt his large, sensitive mouse ears.

Willing himself not to cry, Kim held up his lamp and looked around. The walls of this room, he saw now, were made of the same stone as the tunnel outside. No more metal. No other doors. Now what? Had he come all the way down here just to get trapped? How long would it take before hunger and thirst took him? The answer sent a tear rolling down his cheek, despite his best efforts to be brave. It would take longer, much longer, than the oil in his little lamp would last.

Just as Kim was about to give in to his fear and despair, he felt his left ear twitch. Was that... a sound? Yes, he had definitely heard something, that was not his own rapid breathing. He set the lamp down and leaned closer to the metal door. From the tunnel outside he could hear faint, kind of scratching noises. He almost yelled out, but then he remembered his stray thoughts about tunnel-dwelling monsters, and he clamped a hand over his mouth to quiet it.

Whatever was making the noise had stopped now, just outside the door. Trembling, Kim pressed his ear against the warm metal and strained to hear something. Anything. Then, the door swung open, and he fell out into the tunnel.

The first thing he saw was a flickering light that did not come from his own lamp, then his gaze fell upon a pair of large, dark eyes. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came across his lips. There was still a shrill yell of surprise, echoing in the cramped space. It took a couple of heartbeats' time for Kim to realise that it was the other who had cried out. The boy with the brown eyes, the boy from his vision. The furless one.

The human.

* * * * * *

Kim's eyes widened, and this time he did manage a squeak. His whole body trembling, he backed away until his shoulders touched stone. He realised that he was cornered, that there was no way out. If the other wanted to hurt him...

The light shifted, and Kim looked up. The boy was eyeing him curiously, tilting his head left and right. Kim's fear began to die down, as he too got a good look. The human boy seemed to be his own age, though he wasn't really sure how to tell. His skin was a dark brown, and just as in the Lore Mother's stories he had no fur at all, except for some dark curls on top of his head. It was a weird sight, and Kim couldn't hold back a soft giggle.

The human boy smiled, and said something in a language that Kim had never heard before. It had plenty of harsh consonants, yet at the same time there was a melodic ring to it. Kim shook his head to indicate that he couldn't understand, then he saw the boy's gaze move slightly down, and he felt a deep blush burn his face. Enough, he was sure, to be seen through his snow white face fur. He was still near-naked, and he hurried to cover as much of himself as he could with his lanky arms. The boy laughed, then pointed with both hands to himself. Kim grinned, feeling foolish as he saw that they were both dressed alike, except that he was wearing socks. Maybe there was no need to feel so embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," Kim answered as the boy spoke again. "I can't understand you."

"Hakeem." Again, he pointed at himself. "Hakeem!"

"Cha-kim?" Kim tried, and they both repeated the word a couple of times before he got it right enough. "Your name is Hakeem?"

"Hakeem."

"Hello, Hakeem," Kim said, then he pointed to himself. "I'm Kim."

"Amkeem?"

"No, no, no," Kim laughed, shaking his head. "Just Kim."

"Djuskeem?"

It took a few more tries, but before long the two boys had learned each other's names, reasonably well. Kim still had problems with the sounds in the back of his throat, and Hakeem kept drawing his name out to 'Keem'. Oh well, he could be Keem, it didn't matter much. Hakeem peered into the tiny room Kim had fallen out of, and shook his head in apparent bewilderment. He spoke again, as if trying to explain something, but Kim just shook his head.

"I have no idea how this happened." The room was now lit with candles that seemed to have been burning for a good while in their wall-mounted holders, and the walls themselves were covered with the same kind of drawings that were on the metal door. "I was in another room, and the tunnel was empty. Either you came out of nowhere, or I did."

An idea struck him, as he remembered how the Lore Mother sometimes told stories so old that their words had been lost in time; stories that could only be told by dance and the movement of hands. Hakeem laughed as Kim began to sway his hips, trying to find a good story rhythm. Then the boy's eyes widened, and he nodded as he saw the tale.

Kim danced his descent into the dark tunnel, how he almost fell and how he marvelled at all the stone. Hakeem laughed at how he kicked the metal door and hurt his toes, and gasped when Kim danced being trapped inside the small room. Then he reached their meeting, and he stopped.

Hakeem mimed a similar story. Entering this stone mountain with nothing but a torchlight, searching through dark tunnels and empty chambers until he found a small room with a strange boy inside. When he was done he took Kim's hand and held it while he spoke softly, looking from their hands to Kim's eyes then back again.

"I know you," Kim whispered as understanding began to grow inside him. "I saw you, before. Back home. Inside my head, I saw you. You're him, aren't you? The boy who went to find his story, like Lore Mother told me."

"Lore Mother?"

Kim gasped. For the first time, they had found common words. Hakeem spoke again, and Kim heard him say 'Lore Mother', clear as day. He didn't fully understand it. Maybe some words did live forever, even though languages came and went over countless years. Maybe it was something born out of these magic places... what had the Lore Mother called it? A point in and out of the world and time.

The two traded dances and mimes again, this time sharing their love and reverence for their mentors. Their Lore Mothers. The keepers of stories, tales and memories that would be lost forever without them. Hakeem would one day be a Lore Father himself, if Kim's notion was right. If he really were that boy from the long-before.

"I will be one, too," he said, beaming proudly even though he knew that Hakeem couldn't understand him. "Some day. But back home, after the snow begins to fall."

He danced the sun growing old and her fires dim, mimed the ice rim rising up from the sea to form the world's edge. And snow. Forever dunes and vast plains of snow, from the rim in the north to where sky met land in the south.

Hakeem just watched him, shaking his head now and then as if this were a dance he could not join. In the end the human boy grabbed Kim's shoulders and stopped him, just as he showed the sluggish movement of the yaks. He pointed to his torch, which had burned low, and when Kim picked up his lamp he saw that the wick had begun to sputter. Soon they would be left in the dark, lost so far down in the tunnels that they might never get out. Because, Kim recalled, Hakeem's journey here had been less straight than his own.

He felt panic set in, but the human boy gently took his hand and pulled him away from the metal door. Away from the magic room. Each held his light in his free hand as they walked up the tunnel together. Soon Kim realised that they must have passed the place where he had left his clothes, but they weren't there anymore. And the tunnel remained square. The dark, round, rough stone he had come through, was nowhere to be seen. They went round bend after bend, and Kim felt so lost. He peered into a side tunnel, but Hakeem tugged him along. Then, suddenly, there was light up ahead. Daylight?

Yes, he saw after a few more steps, it was daylight, but brighter than it should be. Brighter by far. The ice tunnel, like its stone counterpart, was nowhere to be seen. Before they had even reached the end of the stone tunnel, Kim had to squint the sting out of his eyes. He could feel heat, too, heat as if from a dozen fires. Mentally, he readied himself for something akin to a steambath, but reality outdid anything he had ever imagined.

* * * * * *

Kim gasped as the two of them exited the tunnel. High in the clear blue sky, beaming down wave upon wave of heat, shone a bright yellow sun, so radiant that it hurt his eyes to even glance at it. He barely managed to keep to his feet. A worried voice somewhere to the side told him that Hakeem had noticed his plight, and to Kim's great relief the human boy picked him up and carried him into shade. It was still too hot and too bright for him, but at least it became a bit more bearable.

Then he looked back the way they had come, and this time his gasp turned into a squeak. The mouth of the tunnel was not the icy cave he had entered. Instead, Kim found himself staring at an impossible sight. It was as the Lore Mother had said, a hut of pure stone, but it was huge. Bigger than anything the stories could have prepared him for. A mountain-hut made of pale stone, stretching toward the sky in straight lines that met in a pointed peak. Hakeem watched his gaping mouth and grinned, then mimed a tale of someone high and mighty, going to sleep and being carried inside.

Kim understood. This really was one of the stone huts where ancient kings slept. A shudder went through him. What if he had found one of them down there, in the dark, with just his little lamp for light? Part of him knew that the old kings were not really asleep, but dead, yet that made it even scarier. His own people used fire to send the dead out of the world, and the thought of bodies just lying around was both strange and terrifying. Still, he was outside now. No need to worry about that.

It took him a moment or two to tear his eyes away from the stone mountain, but when he finally did, and tried to take in his immediate surroundings, his head began to spin. Hakeem said something, patting his shoulder gently, and gestured for him to stay where he was. No problem, Kim thought. He wouldn't be able to go anywhere, even if he wanted to. The human boy took off running. Panting in the heat, Kim leaned back against the rough, uneven surface of whatever was providing the shade, and he closed his eyes.

* * * * * *

"It was such a strange dream, Lore Mother," Kim said, looking down at the snow underneath his boots. "I was really there, in the long-before. It was so warm, and... and I did meet him. The furless boy. His name was almost like mine, and I couldn't understand what he was saying and he couldn't understand what I was saying, but we danced and then we left, out into the sunlight."

The Lore Mother just stood there, right where Kim had found her when he came back out of the ice tunnel. She said nothing, just smiled while he chattered on about his adventure. When he finally fell silent, he expected her to say something, to explain it all to him. But she barely moved. Kim's eyebrows furrowed, and his whiskers twitched. Had he done something wrong? Forgotten something? Well, yes, he did forget one thing.

"Lore Mother, how did I get back? Out of the tunnel, I mean? I... I don't remember."

The old fox woman leaned down over him, but when she spoke her voice was too high-pitched, and he couldn't understand her words. Then she held out her hand, and from it ice cold water poured all over his face.

Kim sat up with a gasp. At first, his eyes saw only snow, but then figures blurred into existence. Hakeem's worried face, first and foremost, but also an ancient-looking human. Her skin was even darker than Hakeem's, and it was crinkled like bedclothes in the morning. Her headfur was almost as white as his own fur. She smiled when their eyes met, then she splashed him with cold water again.

It felt so good! Invigorating. He let a few drops fall onto his tongue, and the taste was even better. Unlike melted snow, this water had a flavour in itself. The old woman dipped a piece of fabric into a pot made from some brown, stone-like material, then draped it across Kim's forehead. The wonderful coldness made him sigh happily, and he found the strength to look around. The first thing he saw was... it had to be...

"Trees!"

They were what gave him shade. Tall things, reaching almost straight toward the sky. They didn't seem to have branches for climbing, though, just a bunch of wide green... leaves, that was what they were called... at the very top. But they were enough to block out the merciless sun.

Other humans stood a little way back. Both adults and children, as far as Kim could tell. A few of them were tall but seemed young, while others were short but looked old. Only Hakeem and the wizened old woman came close to him. Only Hakeem touched him. Kim tried a shy smile, but instead of returning it, the other humans bowed. To him? It was puzzling, and it was a bit embarrassing.

He stayed in the shade of the trees, drinking water and trying to recover. It wasn't easy; the heat wouldn't leave even when the sun was hidden. At least it moved, passed through the sky the same way it did back home. And, eventually, it even began to set. By then, he and Hakeem had moved halfway around the trees, to stay protected. The furless boy left a little while later, apparently trusting the old woman to take care of Kim. Was she Hakeem's Lore Mother? The more Kim thought about it, the more he came to believe just that.

When the sun touched the horizon, she began to sing a wordless melody. It sounded sad, but her face did not reflect that emotion. Instead, she looked peaceful. The tune reminded Kim of some of the songs Mama used to sing to him when he was little. Littler. When it was time to sleep, or when some scary dream woke him up. They were safe songs, homey and hearty, and Kim felt a sudden longing for his village. He joined in the song, or rather, he added a melody of his own. Mama's song that told of the roaming yak herd, slowly crossing the wide snowlands. The woman smiled again, and a few of the other humans moved a little closer. It seemed as if song, as well as dance, was a language Kim's and Hakeem's people shared.

Hakeem returned before the sun was fully down, carrying a wide platter filled with sweet-smelling food. Nothing like the snow turnips or stewed yak meat Kim was used to, but colourful and soft bits of... things... that Kim had no words for. The human boy mimed eating, and Kim tried a sticky brown, round thing. Flavour exploded inside his mouth when he bit down on it. Sweet, sour, and other tastes he had never experienced before. It was so good, and it was so nourishing. Only a few more bites, as he tried a little bit of everything, and he felt full. It was all good, but nothing came close to the sticky brown thing. That one, Kim knew he would remember to the end of his days.

* * * * * *

Evening brushed away much of the heat. Kim managed to get to his feet, and walked around the trees without stumbling. Many of the humans left when it started getting dark, and as he watched them go, Kim saw that there were plenty of stone huts, all around. Small ones, though, about the same size as a yak-skin tent. A few were larger, but all were dwarfed by the immense structure of the stone mountain. In the dark, it still loomed over everything, blocking out a cone of stars.

The stars...

They looked nothing like back home. The constellations he had known for as long as he had known anything, were nowhere to be found. Try as he might, Kim could not trace the Ur-yak, the Sled or the Hearthly Hut. Something akin to the Fisherman's Spear nudged the horizon, but it was crooked. What these stars wrote, what stories they told from the night sky, Kim did not know.

Hakeem and the old woman spoke with each other, and now he could definitely hear the human boy call her Lore Mother. They turned to him and beckoned, and Hakeem took his hand again. Kim allowed himself to be led away from the trees, down a smoothly stone-paved path towards one of the larger huts. Kim saw water beyond all the huts. Open water, moving lazily along a wide... well, it looked like an ice canyon, only water-filled. This water smelled like that which he had tasted, and he smiled to himself. Back home, all water was hidden away inside ice and snow, and only fire could lure it out. Here, like the precious stone, it just lay around. For anyone to see, for anyone to use.

Kim wasn't sure if Hakeem and his Lore Mother shared the hut they entered, or if it were something like the large common tent in his village, where everyone could come in as they pleased. There was nothing that looked like beds, but there was an opening to another room. Maybe they slept in there. And there was a fireplace. Lumps that must have come from trees burned in it, with a low and gentle heat and not too much light. It soothed Kim's sun-stung eyes. The old woman began talking in a low voice, at the same time monotonous and melodic. While Hakeem began to dance.

Spellbound by the old woman's voice and by the boy's graceful and sensuous movements, Kim saw the story take form.

The people, the furless ones, came across a wasteland of heat and sun. With little water and no food, many perished and none thrived. When the end was near, they found the flowing water. They found trees on which the tasty food grew. And they fell to their knees and thanked a god in the sky. A sun god? A star god? Kim didn't know. His own people didn't worship gods, but they knew and were wary of unnatural things, that lived outside lamplight and fireglow. Sometimes, they left gifts for these unseen ones, to keep them happy and friendly. Kim knew a little about gods, though, from his Lore Mother's stories.

Gods could be kind. They could be cruel. Or, they could do as they pleased, no matter what the people did or what they prayed for. Hakeem's people thanked their god over the span of many days, for saving them and for bringing them out of the burning waste. And now, they did thrive. They became so many that some left and made new dwellings, up and down the flowing waterway. They raised kings and queens to rule them. Some were kind, some were cruel. Some built stone mountains for themselves to sleep in.

Hakeem danced his journey into the mountain. He danced meeting Kim. That was, as far as Kim could tell from the last part of the dance, not the first time the humans had met furkind. Nor was it the first time someone had come back here.

Kim was tired, so his own dance was short. He mimed his village and the hard life among snow and ice. In both song and dance he showed his Lore Mother, his love and admiration for her, and his fearful trek down the ice tunnel. After he was done, the old woman stood, and bowed. Kim bowed back. Hakeem tugged on his hand, and they left what must be the Lore Mother's hut. Hand in hand they walked through a near-dark village, until they entered a home hut.

A man and a woman waited there, where beds stood up from the ground along the walls, on more tree bits, and where a small fire burned inside a circle of stones. Children played on their beds or ran around their parents legs. They were all Hakeem's age or younger, and Kim could tell that they were his brothers and sisters. Every one of them turned his way, and stared, mouths agape. He felt his cheeks burn, and he was thankful that his white face fur mostly covered his blush.

They all ate a meal together. More of the sweet and sticky things, and some kind of lean and light meat that tasted good but was nowhere near as filling as yak. Hakeem's family seemed subdued at first, but Kim kept smiling, and thanked them for the food and the water they shared with him, as best he could. Soon enough, they loosened up and began talking amongst themselves. Though Kim understood next to nothing, he found their voices soothing. So much so that, before the meal was fully over, he succumbed to fatigue.

* * * * * *

It was still dark, when Hakeem shook Kim's shoulders until he woke up. If he had any dreams, the memory of them fled when his eyes fluttered open. The dark-skinned boy spoke, his voice low. So as not to wake his siblings, Kim thought. To his surprise, he found that a couple of words made sense to him. Water, was one. Come, another.

He sat up in the bed, where someone must have laid him after he fell asleep. Hakeem was holding a treewood torch in one hand, and a bundle in the other. Food? No, there were no delicious smells coming from it. What he held looked like blankets, only finer and softer than anything that could be woven from yak fur.

Kim followed his new friend outside, down a path to the flowing water. Once there, Hakeem placed his torch in a holder made of shaped stone. What extravagance! A pillar taller than a grown man, just to hold a light. Then again, Hakeem's people had enough stone to build a mountain, and form paths to walk on. They were truly rich.

The furless boy knelt right at the water's edge. He closed his eyes and touched first his chest, then his forehead with his hand. Then he raised his face to the sky, and muttered a few words. A prayer? A show of gratitude? Kim mimicked the gesture, but felt inadequately clumsy. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he hummed a brief melody instead, hoping that Hakeem's god would appreciate the effort. Or at least, not take offence. Then, they washed their hands and faces. The cold water chased away all remnants of sleep.

The bundle of soft things were to dry them. But, there was also a larger... blanket, for lack of a better word... that Hakeem held up to Kim. Words failed them, so the human boy showed Kim what to do. Before long, he was wrapped in this light material, from shoulders to toes. There were holes for his arms, and Hakeem taught Kim how to cover and uncover his head with a hood. Kim's face lit up. It was not to warm him, but to protect him from the sun!

Humans were clever.

* * * * * *

After they had eaten a light breakfast, Hakeem's Lore Mother came to fetch them. She eyed Kim's new garment up and down, then smiled and nodded. With a knife he borrowed from Hakeem's father, Kim had cut a small hole in the back, where his slender mouse tail could fit.

Urged on by the human boy, Kim followed the old woman out into the village morning. The sunlight felt mostly bearable, cloaked as he was, but then again, it was early. He knew he would want to hide away indoors once the sun's daily journey neared its peak.

They took a different stone path this time, one that followed the flowing water to what must have been the largest hut in the whole village. It was made from a type of stone that was almost white as snow, and was filled with carvings of all kind. Some were of humans, but most were of things Kim couldn't even begin to understand. This hut rose nowhere near the height of the stone mountain, of course, but it would fit half Kim's own village inside. The Lore Mother gestured for them to wait, then entered. Unable to help himself, Kim stole glances at the stone mountain, even though its immense size still dizzied him.

From the top of it, surely he would be able to see the entire world, all the way to the end of the sea.

There were plenty of humans about, walking up and down the stone path. Some greeted Hakeem, and Kim bowed to them. He wasn't sure if it were the right thing to do, but he would rather be overly polite than risk being rude. And Hakeem smiled at him when he did. Some of the furless ones were carrying bundles that smelled of food, others pulled what looked like sleds, but which had large treewood wheels. Kim knew about wheels from stories, but had never seen one before. He rubbed his socked foot against the stone path's surface, and nodded to himself. Proper sleds wouldn't be able to slide along it at all.

More cleverness.

After a little while, the Lore Mother came out and spoke briefly to Hakeem, then she motioned for Kim to follow her inside.

* * * * * *

There was no antechamber, like in the common hut back home. But then again, here they had no need to keep cold out. Instead Kim stepped directly into an enormous room that must have filled the entire hut. Along the smooth walls, holders carried lit torches, which cast a warm glow over all the humans amassed there. There were more of them than there were people in Kim's whole village, and he was beginning to feel a bit uneasy. As if someone had given a signal, they moved aside, forming a walkway leading toward the other end of the room.

Together with the Lore Mother and his furless friend, Kim started walking in among the crowd. He heard hushed or whispered voices, and knew they had to be talking about him. Up ahead, Kim could see a raised-up section of floor, lit with even more torches. On it were two stone chairs, upon which sat a man and a woman. They were adults, as far as Kim could tell, but they didn't look very old. Both were wearing the same sparse clothing as everyone else, but they also wore some kind of elaborate headwear. Almost like snow hats, but the way the firelight gleamed in them made Kim suspect that they were partly made of metal.

The man stood up as they approached, and hopped down to their level. He smiled at the Lore Mother, and ruffled Hakeem's headfur. Then, his eyes met Km's, and his smile faded. The Lore Mother spoke to him, and he glanced back to the woman, who was still seated on her stone chair. Were these the king and his queen? They looked very much alike, and Kim wondered if maybe they were brother and sister instead. He searched his mind for the right word for a king's sister. Prince? No, princess. She was either a queen or a princess. Of all the female humans Kim had seen, she was the prettiest, and he hoped that his face fur hid his blush.

Everyone fell silent, and Kim bit back a squeak when he realised that the king was frowning at him. Had someone spoken to him? Since he couldn't think of anything better to do, he bowed.

"Greetings, you highness."

The king's eyes lit up, and he smiled warmly, then made a gesture. When Kim only tilted his head, he repeated it. Hat off? No, hood off! Kim grabbed the top of his... cloak, he decided to call it, since his own people often used yak skin cloaks... and pulled it over his large mouse ears. Behind him, humans gasped and murmured to each other. The king smiled again, and touched Kim's shoulder. In a voice so loud it almost made Kim jump, he spoke to the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Kim caught Hakeem's eyes.

His human friend did not look happy.

* * * * * *

The audience ended as quickly as it had begun. The king returned to his chair, and the Lore Mother herded Kim and Hakeem ahead of her, out of the hut. Kim pulled up his hood again as the sun struck him, much hotter now. It was with a sigh of relief that he realised they were going back to Hakeem's home. Inside, Hakeem's mother gave them mugs of sweet-smelling water, and everyone started talking at once. Kim peered into his mug. The liquid didn't look like water, and when he took a careful sip, his nose scrunched up. It was very sour, but somehow sweet as well. One of Hakeem's siblings giggled at his reaction, and he smiled back. The next sip went down better, and he found that he quite enjoyed it. Like the sticky brown thing he had eaten, it was like nothing he had ever tasted, and it took a while for his mouth to find the deliciousness.

Once the grown-ups had stopped talking, the Lore Mother leaned over to Kim and took his hands. She tried several different languages, but they still found no common words. In the end she turned to Hakeem, who nodded. It wasn't a dance this time, more a sort of mime with hands and fingers.

Hakeem signed the large hut they had just been to, and the king who had spoken to them. Kim nodded. Next came something that took a bit longer to explain, and when Kim finally caught on his eyes widened. Something would soon come, walking on the water! No, not walking, sailing. A boat. Kim knew about boats, but he had no idea how they really worked. His ancestors had used boats, but that had been many upon many generations ago. Boats were pushed along by the wind, that much Kim knew from stories, but how they could stay atop the water, he couldn't guess. Whenever he stepped into a bathing tub, he always sank right down, and boats were supposed to be way bigger than a tiny little mouse boy.

The boat would come, and the king would climb aboard. Taking Kim with him. They would sail along the flowing water, until they met another king. An even greater one. What would happen then, even Hakeem didn't seem to know. This news made Kim feel a bit scared. He finger-danced that he wanted to stay close to the stone mountain, and that he would eventually have to go home. Hakeem and his Lore Mother nodded, and the old woman's face scrunched up with... worry?

It wasn't easy to tell.

During the hottest time of the day, when sunlight crept in through the door and the wall openings, and warmed up the hut while its source rose higher, Kim and Hakeem retreated to the human boy's bed. They left it only briefly a couple of times, to drink more sweet-sour water. Or, to get rid of it. The rest of the time they spent trading words. What Kim could share was very little, mostly words about himself and about the few things around him that he could fully comprehend. Anything else, about his life back home in the village and the yak herds, of ice and snow, Hakeem would never be able to grasp.

On the other hand, Kim learned quite a lot of Hakeem-words. The hut they were in was called a house. The flowing water was a river. Of course! That was another story word, and Kim should have guessed it. The strange stone-snow that was everywhere the stone paths didn't cover, was sand. They shared words for hands and feet, eyes and ears, and many other body parts. Hakeem grinned happily as he got to touch Kim's thin, twitching mouse tail. And Kim in turn, blushed and squirmed when the dark-skinned boy celebrated learning the word for nose, by kissing Kim's. That was one thing he could not have imagined, not in all the years 'til the end of time.

But, though the act stunned him, he found that he did not disapprove.

* * * * * *

After a brief nap, the two boys left the house. The worst of the heat had faded, and Kim's cloak protected him well from the afternoon sun. They walked past the king's house, and continued out onto the sand. It was kind of like walking on powdery, freshly fallen snow, but not exactly. If Kim stood still for too long, the sand seemed to creep up and around his feet, and hold him back in a way that snow did not. As they walked, other children joined them, boys and girls alike as far as Kim could tell, until they formed a gaggle, talking and laughing and shouting and occasionally wrestling one another. Kim didn't mind. He chatted along as best he could, greeting everyone with the word for hello that Hakeem had taught him.

After a while, they entered into the shade of the stone mountain, and came across a... Kim searched his mind... a lake. Only a small one. The sand around it was darker than the rest, and harder to walk on. Kim leaned down at the edge of the water, and scooped some up with his hand. It tasted just as fresh and flavourful as the riverwater, with just a hint of salt in it. All around him, clothes flew in high arcs and landed in puddles of fabric on the ground.

Clad in only their innermost garments, children ran screaming into the water, swimming and splashing and yelling encouragements, when some of them competed to dip each other under the surface. It was tempting, so very tempting, to join in, but Kim's cheeks were burning. Being out in the open, almost without clothes on, was unheard of for him. He got through his first day here, because he was so stunned by the heat. Now, though, he wanted to cling to his cloak.

In the end it took Hakeem, standing in the shallows with water up to his knees, beckoning him with a smile on his lips. All the others were too busy playing to even spare him a glance, so Kim slipped off his cloak. His socks followed, and then, with just a slight hesitation, he stepped into the water, taking Hakeem's hand, and left his embarrassment on the sand, with the rest of his clothes. After all, even though they were outside, this wasn't much different from going to the steambaths with his friends.

The afternoon passed, and the sun peeked around the side of the stone mountain. This late in the day, she was kind to the playing children, and warmed them gently. Kim's face hurt from smiling and laughing. He'd had no idea that a lake could be so much fun. The other kids tried to teach him how to swim, but it always ended with his head going under and his nose filling up with water. No matter. He stayed where his feet could reach the bottom, and splashed whoever came his way. While the others swam races, he found that he could float by lying on his back. He pretended to be a boat, not the one that would take him away in a couple of days' time, but one which would sail into adventures on the endless sea.

Hakeem stayed close the whole time, making sure that he was never bullied. Not that he needed to intervene much. The other children were gentle enough, but whenever their playing got rough, or Kim ended up really splashed or dunked, he chased them away. A little way, for a little while. They would soon be back to play with the strange mouse boy. In the end, the sun started tickling the horizon, and the games came to an end. They all left the water. Some of the children dressed right away, not caring that their clothes got wet, and hurried away. Others lay down on the sand, to let the setting sun dry their skin. Kim and Hakeem joined them, close to where they had left their clothes.

They lay side by side, and soon two hands found one another. Warmth, from both the sand and the sun and the touch, filled Kim. He felt completely at peace. All his worries about magic and boats and kings were gone. All there was, was the here-and-now. Him, his friend, and the sun slowly setting behind them.

Kim was roused from his tranquil mood by a shrill cry, which was answered by another. At his questioning glance, Hakeem mimed flapping wings, and Kim nodded. There were no birds near his village, but he had sometimes seen the white gliders who soared above the endless sea, far below the ice rim. Occasionally, one would dive into the water and come back up with a struggling fish in its beak. Kim's people, his Lore Mother had told him, were once fishermen, laying out nets from the shore or from boats. But when the ice rim rose, they followed it up, and started tending yaks instead.

The two boys stood up. They were the last ones there. Kim hadn't even noticed when all the others left. They brushed sand off themselves and each other, then put their clothes on. Slowly, as if neither of them wanted this day to end, they started walking back the way they had come. Hand in hand.

* * * * * *

Kim's sleep was troubled. He found himself back in the large hut, but in his dream the king wasn't smiling. He was angry. The hand that had so gently touched Kim's shoulder, now rose and fell to strike him again and again. Fear made him whimper, and pain made him cry. When Kim could take no more, the king clasped a metal collar around his neck, fastened it to a rope, and dragged him out a side door. To the river.

In Kim's dream, the boat looked like one of the dragons from his Lore Mother's never-was stories. When he tried to back away from it, it swung its giant head, spearing him with fiery eyes. Its roar was the most terrifying sound Kim had ever heard. But instead of eating him, the beast's snout bumped him gently. Over and over until...

...Kim sat up with a start, almost knocking Hakeem out of the bed. The human boy grinned, then resumed his poking. Kim fought back, until they ended up a squirming, giggling heap on the floor. It took them a while to calm down, but once Kim could breathe normally again, Hakeem took his hand.

"Keem, come. River."

There were other words as well, but those, Kim could fully understand now. It had turned dark outside, so he left his cloak behind. The village was all but empty, but Kim could see other torches moving here and there. No one came close to them, though. Down by the water, they performed the same ritual as that morning. This time, Kim added a prayer to his song.

"Please, oh please, don't let the king take me away."

* * * * * *

In the morning, Hakeem's Lore Mother waited for the boys when they returned from the river. All of them ate a hearty breakfast, amidst the noisy chaos that was a house full of children. This time, Kim counted his friend's siblings. They were eight in all, including Hakeem, but Kim couldn't really tell if the younger ones were boys or girls. Not that it mattered, but he would have liked to know them all better.

"Thank you for food," Kim said with a bow, once they had eaten. He must have pronounced the words mostly right, because Hakeem's mother smiled warmly. "It very good."

She bowed back, and said something that included Hakeem's name and their word for friend. At her insistence, he accepted a handful of the crunchy, tasty things that Hakeem called nuts, and Kim happily ate one to show his gratitude. He kept munching while he and his human friend followed the Lore Mother away from the village. They were soon walking on sand, which was rapidly heated up by the rising sun. Kim was glad to, once again, wear his hooded cloak.

He hadn't thought it were possible, but before long even the stone mountain fell out of sight behind them. A slight worry crept into Kim's mind. There was a warm breeze blowing, and their footprints were erased as soon as they stepped out of them. Left on his own, he would be totally lost. Still, he trusted Hakeem, and by extension he trusted the Lore Mother. They would not lead him astray.

The nuts were all gone by the time a stone structure appeared up ahead. All around lay nothing but sand. As they came closer, Kim saw that it almost looked like one of the stone huts, but old and decrepit. As if no one had tended to it for many, many years. Facing them, was a doorless opening, little more than a dark hole in the stone. It reminded Kim of the ice cave he had entered back home.

Would they go to yet another time? He hoped not. It might be difficult enough for him to find his way back home from this one.

The Lore Mother picked up wood sticks from a pile just inside the entrance, and lit them by knocking a smooth piece of rock against a short metal knife. Sparks flew, and soon each of them held their own torch. Knowing what he had to do, Kim swallowed his fear and stepped inside.

The anteroom was small, just a round space with jagged walls. From it, a tunnel descended. Kim went over to it, but the Lore Mother stopped him. Using her torch, she showed him that the floor was not smooth. If he had hurried on down, he would have fallen. Instead, the stone was shaped to form little spaces of even ground, separated from one another by a vertical drop. Kim smiled. He knew about stairs, from his Lore Mother's stories. Stairs always led somewhere, be it up or, in this case, down. Many generations ago, he recalled, his own people had carved steps into the edge of the ice rim, so they could reach the sea. But when the rim grew too tall, and too many had died from falling, the tribe gave up on fishing.

Hakeem took the lead. It was obvious that he had been there before, as he had no problem jumping from step to step. Kim followed, more cautiously. Every now and then, he stumbled, and each time his human friend was there to steady him. In the end, after a near fall, he accepted a reached-out hand, and from that point on the two of them took each step together.

Kim's legs were beginning to get tired by the time they reached the bottom of the stairs. The ceiling opened up, and the walls disappeared. Kim's eyes widened, and he raised his torch, but he still couldn't see the other side of this cave. Everywhere, spikes of stone grew down from above, or up from below. In some places they met, and formed rough pillars. Kim felt sure he had heard words for these formations, but their names had slipped his mind.

He felt a tug on his hand, and followed Hakeem along the left wall. Here and there lay pieces of broken-off stone, which they had to go around or carefully step over. When they slowed down, Hakeem pointed to a place just ahead, where a large section of the wall had been made smooth.

"There, Keem," he whispered. "Look."

Kim crept forward, almost afraid to disturb this place. He couldn't sense the tingle of magic, like on the Lore grounds, but what lay ahead felt as if it were another kind of magic. A couple of times, in stories from the long-before, he had heard the word 'sacred'. But not until now had he understood what it meant.

The Lore Mother caught up with them, her breathing ragged after the descent. She placed her torch in a holder, carved from one of the ground-growing pillars, and Hakeem did the same. Kim looked around until he found a third one, and gave it his torch. Then he turned to look at the smooth wall.

"Stories," he said in a squeak. His voice bounced inside the cave, and when he went on it was in a whisper. "Picture stories."

Some were made by putting colour on the wall, others were carved into it. Hundreds of pictures. No, more, but Kim didn't know any higher numbers. Hundreds of hundreds. Most of them showed humans doing things. To his right, a series of pictures told the story of how Hakeem's ancestors came to these lands. The storyteller-to-be in Kim compared it to Hakeem's dance, and filled in bits and pieces he had missed. He nodded to himself. This tale he would remember, and he knew that he would tell it to his own people, many times.

The stories progressed the further to the left he moved. Hakeem held his hand again, and pointed out his favourite parts. The human boy seemed to prefer picture-tales of children. Kim watched as simple, yet effective images told of games and sports. Furless kids were running, jumping, throwing things, swimming in the river, wrestling and tumbling about. It looked like so much fun, and Kim wished he could paint a little mouse on the wall, and join in.

Then something else caught his eye. Using his free hand, he pulled back his hood and leaned even closer. Yes, he had been right. He pointed at a painted figure who looked different, and Hakeem nodded. It wasn't a mouse, but it had pointed ears on top of its head, a snout, and a tail. A furry person. A fox, maybe, or a wolf. It stood next to a human adorned with headwear and necklaces and armbands. A king? The Lore Mother whispered something, and Kim caught the words for 'river' and 'go'.

That seemed to be the fate for fur folk in this age of the world. Kim followed the pictures and saw how the humans first greeted the... fox, he decided, because of the bushy tail... then brought it to meet the king. This couldn't be... could it be his Lore Mother? Had she come there, long before him? But no, the fox in the picture looked to be a male. Further to the left, the king dragged the fox, now bound, onto a boat, and sailed down the river.

"Here." Hakeem lifted their conjoined hands to trace a new series of pictures. His voice had a sorrowful tone to it. "War."

Kim didn't know the word, but he could tell from his friend's sombre expression that it meant bad things. The king marched against other humans, holding the fox up before him. The others mostly bowed, but some fought back. Fought, and lost, and died. With his fox talisman, the king defeated all other humans, and ruled the land until he grew old, and died. And, as Kim had both feared and expected, was laid inside a stone mountain with the fox by his side. He pointed to one picture, where several men held the poor fox, and stabbed him with knives.

Hakeem nodded gravely.

After that, other stories began, but Kim couldn't really see them. A cold dread had gripped his chest, and not even kind words from his human friend helped. The Lore Mother seemed to think he had seen enough, because she handed both boys their torches. Soon they were on their way back up.

Despite what he had just seen, Kim couldn't help but smile as he pondered the impossible magic of stairs. How could they go both up and down at the same time? They had come down, and without changing anything, now they were going up! Then again, he mused, it was the same way with paths. They went both to somewhere and back home. He tried to tell Hakeem his thoughts, but lacked the words to make himself understood. And dancing on one of the small steps would have been dangerous.

Hakeem merely squeezed his hand, and gave him an encouraging smile.

* * * * * *

Midday had passed while they were down in the cave, and the three of them stayed inside the old hut as the worst heat faded. The Lore Mother had brought a water flask, which they all shared. When it was Kim's turn to drink, he held it up and studied it. His own tribe used yak leather for the same purpose, but this flask was made from something else. It was too hard to the touch to be leather, and too light to be stone, and it was almost perfectly round. Maybe the skull of some animal, but if so, where were the holes for eyes? In the end, he turned to Hakeem.

"Tree?"

"Calabash."

Kim frowned, but then he started nodding as his friend explained. The flask, as far as he could understand, had come from a land far away, made by a people with whom Hakeem's village traded. It was crafted from a fruit, which had been hollowed out and dried. Kim smiled. He knew about fruits now. They grew on trees and were very yummy to eat. Apparently they had other uses, too.

Trees, Kim mused, were not that different from yaks. Hakeem's people planted trees and nurtured them, much like Kim's tribe tended the yaks back home. Trees gave fruits, yaks gave milk. And when the time came for a yak to be slaughtered, almost every part of it was used in some way. What was left, became growing beds for snow turnips. Waste was disrespectful. He tried to convey this thought, and now it was Hakeem who nodded. The Lore Mother, too, seemed interested.

Hakeem finger-mimed how a tree was felled, how the inner bits were edible, the outermost bits were pounded to a mush, then somehow used to make clothes. Kim did not understand that bit. The leaves were used to wrap stuff in, and it took a bit of explaining before Kim realised that it was food. And like yak bones, what was left became tools, or firewood.

The Lore Mother talked briefly to Hakeem, then the two of them used her song and his dance, to show how their village kept birds. Trimmed their wings so they couldn't fly away, and let the children keep watch over them. Kim had already tasted the lean meat the birds gave, and Hakeem pointed to his loincloth, which was adorned with two white-and-brown feathers. While he took a closer look, Kim felt his cheeks burn.

When the calabash was all but empty, they headed back across the sand. Hopefully the same way they had come. Kim pulled on his hood, even though he was slowly getting used to the heat. At least in the afternoon.

They said goodbye to the Lore Mother at her hut, then the two boys continued on their own to Hakeem's home. Every now and then, villagers bowed to Kim, and he bowed back. He couldn't help, when they turned onto the last stone path, but glance toward the king's hut. A shudder went through him, as he recalled the paintings in the cave. He grabbed the furless boy's hands, and when their eyes met his voice was barely a whisper.

"I not do war, Hakeem. Please!"

"No war." Hakeem reached up with one hand, and touched Kim's cheek gently. "I help. Lore Mother help. King not take Keem."

"Thank you. My friend."

"Friend."

Kim felt relief, and gratitude, flow through him as Hakeem wrapped him in a hug and held him for a long time. People passed by, but neither boy cared. When the embrace finally ended, Kim knew what was about to happen. He didn't mind, not at all.

When the human boy's lips touched his, he closed his eyes with a sigh. And kissed him right back.

If Hakeem's family noticed that the two of them sat very close to one another, during their evening meal, they said nothing.

* * * * * *

The sky was still filled with stars, when Hakeem dragged Kim down a stone path they hadn't walked before. Yawning, Kim blinked sleep out of his eyes. The two of them had lain awake long into the night, talking in whispers about anything they could find common words for. And every time the mouse boy mentioned his home, his Mama or his Lore Mother, homesickness grew inside him. He knew that it was their last night together, and he didn't want to sleep.

By the faint light from the embers in the fireplace, he memorised every detail of his friend's face. From the night-dark curls on top of his head, to the little dimple on his chin. And oh, those deep, dark eyes which caught every ounce of light and reflected it to Kim. Yes, even his lips, which met his own a time or two. Only the most fleeting of touches, but it was enough to set his heart racing. In the end they did fall asleep, a tangle of lanky arms and legs.

In Kim's dream, they were both old. Hakeem's hair was white, while his own cheek fur had darkened. As if their colours bled into one another. Kim was instructing a young grey-furred wolf boy, whose tail kept wagging and who could barely ever sit still. Hakeem lectured a small human girl, whose skin was even darker than his own, but whose eyes were the colour of gold. She was as serene as the pup was wild, yet they were both eager to learn. Lore Children of their Lore Fathers'. All four of them lived in a hut made from treewood and grass, by another, far wider river. Somehow, there were yaks grazing in the midmorning heat, and on the water swam large white birds.

That was as far as the dream took Kim, before Hakeem shook him awake. After their morning wash and prayer, and a quick breakfast, they were now going... where? Birds were calling as the horizon began to brighten, and there were other sounds coming from ahead. Human sounds. The laughter of children. Hakeem took Kim's hand, and smiled.

"You see soon, Keem," he said with a giggle. "The best!"

No matter how Kim poked and prodded him, the human boy would not say more. Then they left the stone path and went out onto... not sand, but another kind of ground. It was firm to walk on, but not as rigid as stone. When he turned around, Kim could see tiny imprints of their feet. Around them natural stone rose up, too small to be the mountains of his Lore Mother's tales. Were they hills? The sound of laughter was louder now. They rounded a large boulder, and Kim's jaw dropped. There, in front of him, stood a tree. But not just any tree.

It was huge!

Not as tall as he had imagined trees when he heard the stories, but it kind of looked like his mind's eye had told him. The trunk was wide as the common hut back home, and sturdy branches stuck out from it, level after level, ending up in thin twigs filled with green leaves. And there were children, climbing up and down, or balancing on the branches. Some chased one another, others seemed to play a game of some kind, where they stared out over the world and pointed and shouted and laughed.

"Keem, is bad?" Hakeem touched Kim's cheek, and his finger came away wet. "Crying?"

"I'm happy, Hakeem." Kim grinned, and pointed at the tree. "It's like in the stories. Wonderful!"

"Come. We play!"

* * * * * *

And play they did. And climb they did. Kim took a few seconds to throw off his cloak and, after a brief hesitation, his socks. Then, he joined his friend and grabbed the lowest branch.

It was everything he had hoped for. The tiny claws on Kim's fingers and toes dug easily into the tree's skin, and the other children cheered as he scurried up the trunk itself. Hakeem beamed at him, with something in his eyes that looked like pride.

Kim didn't fully understand the games they played, but he took part anyway. He got chased and tagged, then he hurried to hunt down someone else. Much of the morning passed, with nothing but fun. When he started getting tired, Kim climbed as high as he could, up where the thinner branches swayed underneath his feet.

This high up, he could see over the rocks, and the human village spread out before his eyes. He waited for Hakeem to catch up, then he pointed out the human boy's house, and the Lore Mother's. And, more hesitantly, the king's. To their right, the river stretched as far as their eyes could see, and to the left everything was blocked by the stone mountain. Ahead, across the river, lay nothing but sand. The burning waste. Kim pointed that way.

"You people come there?"

"Yes. Many many lifes ago. Very bad."

"I happy you here, Hakeem." He took the human boy's hand, and gave it a light squeeze. "Very good."

"Keem here, too," Hakeem said with a smile. "Keem-friend."

Kim turned to his friend, maybe to poke him and start another game, maybe to steal another kiss, but instead he froze. Far away, on the flowing waterway, something moved. Something so large it almost filled the entire river from bank to bank. Hakeem turned, and let out a whimper.

"Boat."

* * * * * *

They ran, as fast as their feet could carry them, across the sand and down the stone paths, until they reached the Lore Mother's hut. She nodded as Hakeem hurriedly explained what they had seen from the treetop, then she closed her eyes and sighed.

"Keem," she said gravely. "Keem must go. Now."

"Lore Mother, no..." Hakeem's voice hitched. "N-not go. Stay, me."

"Hakeem..." Kim felt a twinge inside his chest. Hakeem, I go home."

"Please!"

"I not do war. I not want die, and sleep in stone mountain."

"My Keem." Hakeem threw his arms around Kim, and squeezed hard. "My friend."

"Hakeem, you go with." The Lore Mother handed the human boy a treewood torch, and to Kim's surprise she also had his lamp, which was now filled with... whatever they burned here. She lit them both, then pointed at the mountain. "You show him magic. You make him home."

"Lore Mother, thank you," Kim said and bowed deeply. "I remember, always."

"Good boy." She patted his head. "Now go. I talk to king."

Kim took Hakeem's hand, but the human boy seemed dazed. He dragged his feet, and it wasn't until angry voices were raised from the village that they both started running.

"Lore Mother be good?"

"Is good," Hakeem answered, panting as they climbed towards the tunnel entrance. "Even king, no hurt Lore Mother."

Then the sunlight was gone, and only the torch and the lamp chased darkness away. Kim had no idea where to go, so now it was Hakeem who dragged him along. Around bends, past intersections, through a chamber. Until at last, Kim recognised the metal door. They both whispered its name, in their own language, and it opened. Once they were inside, it closed. Hakeem placed his torch in a wall holder, and Kim put his lamp on the floor. Then, they hugged.

"Keem... Keem... Keem..." the human boy whispered, and he began to cry. "My Keem."

"Hakeem, my friend."

The two of them were unable to let go, for a long time, as they wept on each other's shoulders. The magic room seemed to eat sound, as their whispered words faded as soon as they left their lips. Either that, or Kim's heart was pounding so loudly it drowned out everything. What finally broke their embrace, was when the door swung open. After wiping his cheeks, Kim took off his cloak and handed it to Hakeem. He smiled.

"You wear it, Hakeem. Remember me." He poked a finger through the hole he had cut in the back, and they both giggled. "Tail."

"Tail," Hakeem nodded forlornly. "I never forget."

"I know. My Lore Mother said story. Story of you. Hakeem, be Lore Father."

"Keem be, too."

They hugged again, and this time they shared one last kiss. For goodbye, Kim thought. For memories that would have to last his lifetime. He picked up his lamp, and slowly made his way to the door. Hakeem's hand held on to his, even out into the tunnel. Only when the door began to close, did they part. The last thing Kim saw, in the light of his lamp, was a glistening dark eye.

Then the door closed with a faint click, which to Kim's ears sounded deafeningly loud. And very, very final.

Clenching his free hand until his claws bit into his palm, he turned and walked away.

* * * * * *

Soon, after the smooth tunnel had given way to the rough, dark stone one, Kim found his clothes. He sat down next to them, as thoughts and memories and feelings swirled through him. Suddenly, he heard his Lore Mother's voice, as clear as if she had been there with him.

"He lived to become a wise old Lore Father, and he passed on much knowledge to later years."

A tear ran down Kim's cheeks. He was back in his own time, in the true here-and-now. Which meant...

Only a little while had passed since Kim left his friend, but at the same time, Hakeem had been dead for generations beyond count. He had been dead before they even met. More tears followed the first. Kim wanted to run back and scream for the door to open, pound on it until his fists bled if need be. To go and live with his friend and grow old together and be happy. The king be damned!

But it was no use. Kim knew that the door would not open for him. Because in his Lore Mother's story, there had been no mouse. Only a brief meeting between Lore Children. The long-before could never be changed. His sobs turned into a wail, as he cried the last of his tears. For now. Surely, he would cry again and again, when he remembered his dark-skinned friend.

And remember he would, for as long as he drew breath.

Therein lay his solace, because Hakeem would live on inside his memories. In the stories he would tell for years and years to come. And hadn't Lore Mother said that all stories were alive, on Lore grounds? Kim wiped his cheeks, and gave a wan smile. He, too, would be alive, in the long-before. In Hakeem's thoughts and memories and stories. Maybe generations of Lore Fathers and Mothers would tell of the strange mouse boy, who came out of the stone mountain. That thought, too, gave him comfort.

He stood up on shaky legs, and started getting dressed.

* * * * * *

Kim had never really felt the cold before. Not like this. He started shivering as soon as the tunnel turned to ice, and the further up he climbed, the worse it got. His lamp had burned dry, and died, but there was only one way to go. Forward. Up. When finally he saw light ahead, it stung his eyes, even though it was the usual, less ferocious sun he had known all his previous life. He would remember, though, how strong she had been in her youth. So strong she sent a little mouse hiding, inside a cloak.

As Kim had expected, his Lore Mother was waiting for him when he exited the tunnel. An icy wind tore at his clothes, and found it way in to his skin. He shuddered. Even the Lore Mother's smile failed to give much warmth.

"We should return to the village, my child." It was so good to hear her voice again. To Kim, it felt as if ages had passed. "The steambaths for you, I think. Home can be harsh, when you return to it."

"Lore Mother, I have so much to tell."

"Later. Talk while we walk, if you want, but save the whole story for later."

"I met him, the furless boy. He was my friend and I was his. We talked a lot, even though we couldn't understand at first, and we played and..." He paused, and was glad that his yak skin coat's hood hid his blush. "Other stuff. I miss him a lot."

"I know, sweet one." She chuckled. "You might not believe it, but I was young once, too. I know how you feel, coming back from the long-before."

"You were there?" Kim squeaked. "In the stone mountain and with the river and all?"

"No, child." She took his mittened hand and held it as they walked. "The Lore grounds give everyone a different experience. In a different time."

"Where did you go, Lore Mother? Did you not find the metal door?"

"Metal? Oh, dear me, you have seen wonders!"

"Don't laugh... I just thought..."

"I came to a cave. A dark cave, with smelled bad from the droppings of strange birds." She stopped, and so did Kim. "I was scared, because when I looked back the tunnel was gone."

"What happened, Lore Mother? Did you meet another Lore Child?"

"I did."

"Was she a human?"

"No, she was... older than a human. This was so far in the long-before that our ancestors were almost furry again."

"Really?"

"And truly. Her tribe had no real language, but they sang and they danced, and their campfire stories were of hunts and of long, long walks."

"Where to? Or where from?"

"Interesting thought, Kim. From somewhere to somewhere, I guess."

"Sorry." Kim looked down at his boots. "It was silly."

"Not silly, just curious. I would have answered if I could, but I only stayed for a few days. Then the tunnel came back, and I had to go. But the Lore Child and I became friends, just like you and your furless boy. And I still remember her."

"Will you tell me more, some day?"

"Yes. We will trade stories soon. I want to know all about the hot land."

"It was awful at first. I passed out. But Hakeem's Lore Mother gave me water, and there were trees to keep the sun away and I got a cloak that protected me from the heat and..." Kim breathed in deeply, since he had used up all his air in one go. "And I really climbed a tree, Lore Mother. It was great!"

"You've been busy." Kim could tell that she was smiling, underneath her own hood. "How long did you stay?"

"Just a few nights, three or four, I think." They started walking again, but something teased the back of Kim's mind. "Lore Mother...?"

"Yes?"

"What do you mean, how long? You came back to the Lore grounds to get me, didn't you? You must know how many nights I was away."

"My dear boy, I never left." Kim gasped, and his eyes widened. "You were gone a couple of hours, from the here-and-now, at least."

"But there were days! Hakeem and I learned our words, and the king wanted to take me and go and do war, and Hakeem's parents were so kind and his brothers and sister were so cute and..."

"Focus your mind, Kim," she said to stop his rant. "Think about the things you want to say, and what words you should use. And how to pace yourself. Then, when your story is formed, you can tell it to me properly."

"Sorry." Kim smiled, feeling foolish. "There's so much, and I want to say everything."

"Not all at once," she laughed. "I will teach you to tell all kinds of stories, Kim. I will teach you to become a Lore Father."

"Like Hakeem."

"Yes. He is part of your story now."

"So I did find it."

"You did find it. And so did he. And for a brief time, they were one and the same."

"I miss him so much. I think..." Kim's voice faded, as he searched for the right words. "I think he could have been my one. The one for my life."

"Keep him dearly in your heart, Kim. And in your thoughts, and in your stories."

"I will." Ahead, Kim could see yak skin huts in the distance. He smiled. "I think I'm ready for the steambaths now."

"That's good."

"And two bowls of marrow broth!"

* * * * * *

A good while later, Kim sat in a tub, with hot water up to his chin. He had cried and laughed with Mama, he had paid the village elders due respect, and he had been well fed. He was alone now, but a couple of his friends had joined him in the steambaths earlier. They were eager to hear of his adventure, but he told them what the Lore Mother had told him. That he needed to find the right words before he could tell.

His mind hovered between awake and asleep, and in the flicker of his candlelight, shadows danced on the tent wall. Most meant nothing to him, but for just a second, he thought he saw a familiar shape. The outlines of a small boy. The image came and went so quickly that Kim couldn't swear it had really been there, or just in his own head.

But he chose to believe that he had actually seen his dear friend. And he chose to believe that, before he disappeared, Hakeem had waved him goodbye.

_

The End

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