Chapter 6

The Hummingbird couldn't help but feel slightly overwhelmed as she stepped through the door into Pitville Traders. It was like Aladdin's cave: there was so much stuff everywhere that Clara couldn't see for looking.

"Ah, hello there, traveller!" An old, frail lion grinned, hobbling toward her, multiple helmets balanced in a stack atop his head and two hide bracers about his wrists. He had a long, black mane that clearly hadn't been brushed in days, as it was as matted as a Victorian rag rug.

"Are you… Bartholomew, by any chance?" Clara asked.

"Indeed I am," the eccentrically dressed lion replied, "And you're The Hummingbird, I presume? I saw you from my shop window. Very impressive how you dealt with the army, I must say…"

"Thank you," Clara smiled, coughing, "I've got to be heading up the mountains soon, so I was wondering what I should take…"

"Oh, I've got plenty of stuff here; I have everything you'll need!" Bartholomew replied, "And, since you're helping us, I won't even charge you: you can take whatever you like."

The Hummingbird laughed,

"Everyone in this town says I'm mad, but you're the ones giving everything away for free! Then again, where does money get you when you're at risk of dying..? Anyway, I have no clue what I'll need, so whatever you see fit for me to take, I'll take it."

Bartholomew started taking the helmets off his head, one by one, and placing them on a soft pile of clothes on the floor that Clara hadn't before noticed. He then began wandering around his shop, studying almost everything he saw. It seemed not even he knew where things were kept in this explosion of unsystematic items.

"On a serious note," Clara started, clearing her throat, "What's really so dangerous about these mountains? Everyone seems to think me crazy to go up there voluntarily."

"We don't like to talk about it much around here," Bartholomew frowned, not making eye contact, "The Chieftain's late wife went up there once a few years ago to look for a cure for a disease that once struck Pitville. Everyone liked that lioness: she was brave, kind, clever and everything a good person should be. And she was my daughter… she went up Coal Mountain that day and she never came back down. I hoped, back then, that I would see her again… but now I've lost all hope."

Clara bit her lip, hearing the sad air to the old lion's voice and regretting that she had ever brought up the subject,

"I'm sorry," she murmured. She couldn't really think of anything more comforting or kindly to reply with.

"Ah, it's fine, enough about my problems: this is about you!" Bartholomew smiled, looking back over to her, "You'll be needing something to protect yourself for a start…"

Carrying an enormous pile of items in her arms, unsure of whether she needed half of it, Clara nudged open the door of the inn with her elbow. Bartholomew had supplied her with copious amounts of… stuff: helmets, boots, gloves, bracers and clothes studded with metal spikes that were currently digging into her arms as she attempted to make her way up the stairs to her room. Fortunately, no-one was around to see how rubbish at carrying stuff she was.

When she got to the door to her room, The Hummingbird kicked it open and threw the bits and pieces onto the floor before wringing her numb hands and swallowing. She really didn't want to sort through all of this junk.

She was saved from having to sift through it all by a voice from down the stairs calling out a confused hello.

Clara didn't know exactly what time it was, but she suspected that it was about12:00. Leonard said he'd send his son out at mid-day, so the voice was most probably that of the Chieftain's son, so Clara hopped down the steps to see a… snow leopard with a mane spiked into a Mohawk… he was standing with his hands together, looking rather puzzled and tired.

"Ah: say, are you The Hummingbird?" He asked when he saw Clara. His face seemed to change from confusion to surprise when he saw her. He was probably just surprised at her appearance.

"I am: are you Leona- I mean, the Chieftain's son?" Clara answered.

"Yes – I hope you were expecting me," the leopard nodded. His voice was deep but somewhat anxious.

"Absolutely! So? What's the Chief's final decision?"

"He says that my sister can go with you as long as you look after her. She's spent ages trying to convince him to let her come with you, so father didn't really have another choice. But if you come back without her, he says he will personally have you executed in the middle of town with everybody watching."

The Hummingbird blinked, slowly,

"I'm sure it won't come to that. I'll take very good care of your sister, I assure you."

"Good," Leonard's son smiled, somewhat awkwardly, "Uh… I'm Oliver, by the way. It's very nice to meet you. Rosetta's been talking a lot about you."

"Has she now? Well, tell her that whenever she's ready, she can find me here: first floor, second room on the left."

"Will do! See you around sometime, Hummingbird," Oliver grinned, saluting Clara as he hurried away out of the inn.

Clara smiled to herself and cracked her knuckles before heading up the stairs, up into her cold little room.