Citrus Jelly's Arc

Chapter 2 of 5

Citrus Jelly landed in the snow beside his brothers, and the world stopped making sense. The towers were taller now. One rose right behind Spearmint, a spire of packed snow with wind-cut ridges and a crown of frosted spikes. It hadn't been there a minute ago. Spearmint stared up at it. He didn't wait, he didn't ask. He just walked toward the base of the spire and put a green paw on the wall. "Spearmint," Peppermint said softly. "That wasn't there before." "I know," Spearmint said. He kept his paw on the snow. "My belly feels quiet near it. That means something." Citrus Jelly bounced closer. "Quiet how?" "Quiet like inside is better than outside." Spearmint didn't turn around. "I'm going in." A seam opened in the tower wall, dark and narrow. Spearmint stepped through. The seam closed behind him with a soft crunch, like a boot on fresh snow. Citrus Jelly's feet went wiggly. He stood like a lemon. Peppermint sat down in the snow beside him and didn't say anything for a while. "He'll come back," Peppermint said. "Probably. He usually does." "Probably isn't the same as yes." "No," Peppermint said. "It isn't." Citrus Jelly looked at the spire. It hummed, low, the way a fridge hums when you stop talking. He could bounce. Nothing could really hurt him. He knew that. He kept knowing it, over and over, and his feet stayed put. Then he noticed a small red-and-blue cape lying folded on top of the abandoned toboggan. It hadn't been there before either. The stitching was neat. The collar was sized for a small jelly bear. "Was that yours?" Citrus Jelly asked. Peppermint shook his head. "I think the snow left it. For someone." Citrus Jelly picked it up. It was heavier than it looked. He fastened the clasp under his chin. His feet were still wiggly. But the cape sat on his shoulders like a hand pressing down gently, saying, go. He walked to the spire. He put his paw where Spearmint's had been. The seam opened again. "I'll wait here," Peppermint said. "I'm good at waiting." "I know," Citrus Jelly said. He didn't want to be good at it anymore. He stepped inside. The seam closed. The hum was louder in here, and the light was blue, and the air smelled like a freezer. The floor sloped down, not up. Spearmint's tracks led into the dark ahead, small green smudges on the packed snow. Citrus Jelly followed them. The cape swung behind him. His feet were still wiggly, but they were moving, and that was new. Somewhere ahead, deeper than a snow tower should go, he heard his brother say his name.