Bart Belly's Arc

Chapter 18 of 21

Bart reached the gates of the Polar Kingdom by dusk. The igloo castle rose ahead, its snow domes glowing pale blue. King Stormy stood at the gates, arms crossed, a ring of armored guards behind him. Each guard carried a crossbow. Bart saw the king's eyes drop to his bag, where the golden Speedo lay hidden. The king had waited a long time for this. "Give it to me," King Stormy said. "The gold is mine. Everything past my wilderness is mine." Bart stopped ten paces short. His arms still ached from the yeti fight that morning. He could not put on the Speedo now. He had no strength left to spare, and the guards' crossbows were already up. The wolf cub pressed against his leg and growled. Then a shape burst over the far snow ridge. White fur, one torn arm, a roar that shook the gates. The yeti. The avalanche had not killed it. It had dug free and followed his trail all the way here. The guards spun toward the sound. A commanding guard in scarred armor shouted an order. Crossbow strings snapped. Bolts flew at the charging yeti. Two struck its shoulder. It stumbled but kept coming, straight for the king. Bart saw his chance. The king's greed had trapped him at the gates. Now the same greed put the king in the yeti's path. Bart could run. He could leave Stormy to the creature and slip inside. Instead he moved. He grabbed the nearest guard's spare crossbow off the snow. His arms shook, but he braced the stock against his hip. He waited until the yeti reared over the king. Then he fired. The bolt sank into the creature's throat. The yeti staggered. The commanding guard fired again. So did the others. Bolts filled the beast. It swayed, then crashed down in the snow at the king's feet and did not rise. Silence held the gates. King Stormy stared at the dead yeti, then at Bart. The guards lowered their crossbows and looked to their king. "You could have run," Stormy said. His voice had lost its greed. "You fired instead." "You'd have died," Bart said. "I don't need you dead. I need through those gates." The king was quiet a long moment. He looked at the bag, then at the yeti he had guarded against for months. Something in his face changed. He waved a paw, and the guards stepped aside. "Come in," Stormy said. "We'll talk about the gold. Not tonight." Bart walked through the gates of Glacier Keep, the cub at his heel. The yeti was truly dead now. The king no longer aimed guards at his back. But the golden Speedo still sat in his bag, and Stormy still wanted it. The talk about the gold had only been delayed.