Citrus Jelly's Arc

Chapter 4 of 5

Citrus Jelly held Spearmint by the shoulders. His brother was warm under the cool green skin, but heavy, like a bag of water. The rabbit sat by their feet, its blue eyes lighting a small patch of the tunnel. Above them, somewhere up the slope and past the seam and out on the snow, Peppermint was waiting. Alone. Citrus Jelly pictured him standing by the tower wall, then walking one slow circle around it, then two, then wandering off to look. Peppermint always wandered when he was worried. Quietly. Without telling anyone. "I have to tell Pep we're okay," Citrus Jelly said. "Or he'll go looking." Spearmint blinked slowly. "He will," he said. "He won't say so. He'll just start walking." Citrus Jelly looked up the tunnel. He could not shout that far. He could barely hear the hum over his own breathing. He patted his sides. He patted the inside of his little cape, the red-and-blue one that had gotten him through the door. His paw hit something hard in the seam. He pulled it out. A tin whistle. Slim, silver, with a row of black holes down the front. He didn't remember putting it there. Maybe it had been stitched in from the start. Maybe the cape came with it. "Can you blow that?" Spearmint asked. "I don't know how." "Just blow." Citrus Jelly put the mouthpiece to his lips. He covered no holes. He blew. The sound that came out was too big for the whistle. It filled the tunnel wall to wall. It ran up the slope in one long clean line. The rabbit's ears flattened. Spearmint winced and smiled at the same time. Citrus Jelly blew again. Three short. One long. Three short. He didn't know why he picked that. It felt like a shape Peppermint would notice. He stopped. He listened. For a moment there was only the hum. Then, far above, thin and small and coming down the tunnel like water finding a crack, a voice. "Citrus?" Citrus Jelly's whole middle went loose. "Pep!" "I was going to walk around the other side," Peppermint said. His voice trailed down slow, unhurried, a little tired. "I thought maybe there was another door. I'm glad I didn't yet." "Stay there," Citrus Jelly called. "Don't go anywhere. I found him. He can't walk." A pause. Then: "Okay. I'll sit by the opening. I'll wait." Citrus Jelly lowered the whistle. His paws were shaking, but not the lemon kind of shaking. The other kind. The kind that came after. Spearmint leaned against him. "Good," he said. "Now the hard part." Citrus Jelly looked up the long dark slope. His brother was heavy. The climb was steep. The rabbit stood, hopped one length toward the way back, and waited.