Bart Belly's Arc

Chapter 3 of 21

The princess had given Bart a head start, but the debt came due before the ice. A pair of royal guards found him at the square's edge and marched him inside the great igloo castle. Its snow domes rose high above him. Frosted battlements gleamed blue. Bart clutched his heavy bag and followed them through frozen halls. He had not left yet. The king wanted to see him first. The throne room opened wide and cold. King Stormy sat on a raised seat of packed ice. A gold crown tilted on his head. A jeweled scepter rested across his knees. He was the princess's father, the one who set the price for the supplies Bart carried. His small eyes narrowed as Bart entered. "So this is the soft one," the king grumbled. He leaned forward. "You want my furs. My boots. My grandfather's stores." He tapped the scepter on the ice. "Then bring me the bloom. The one that grows past the wilderness. Nothing else will do." Bart's throat went dry. "What does it look like?" The king waved a paw. "Icy roses. Crystal petals. You'll know it when you see it. Bring the wrong thing back, and my guards keep the gear. And you." He smiled without warmth. "Now go." Bart bowed and hurried out. Outside, snow drifted across the courtyard. He knew nothing about flowers. He could barely picture what the king wanted. Guards watched him from the gate, arms crossed. He had to leave, and he had to leave right. Then he saw it. Near the castle wall, half buried in snow, grew a low bush. Its blooms shimmered like frozen glass. The petals glowed pale blue and purple. Icy roses. Crystal petals. Bart's heart jumped. This matched every word the king had spoken. He knelt and dug at the frozen soil with his gloves. The stems were hard as ice. Thorns snagged his fur. He worked one bloom loose, then another, and pressed them gently into the top of his bag. His paws shook, but not from cold now. He had the flower. He would not walk the deadly ice blind and empty-handed after all. A guard called out. "You there. What's in the bag?" Bart turned. He pulled one shimmering bloom free and held it up. The guard's eyes widened. He stepped back, then waved to the gate. The frozen doors groaned open. "Move along," the guard said. "The king's business." Bart tucked the bloom away and walked through the gate. Cold air met him. The wilderness stretched white ahead. He had solved the king's riddle, or so he believed. The gear was his to keep now. The path to the golden Speedo lay open at last. But the bloom he carried had grown inside the castle walls, not past the wilderness. Bart did not know that yet. He only knew the guards had let him pass, and the ice was waiting.