Oliver Finch's Arc

Chapter 7 of 9

Oliver's mother wrapped the flower in a wool blanket and hid it under the stairs. That night, Oliver lay awake in the tall green house. The bills sat on the kitchen table, unpaid. The flower was worth enough to clear them all. But no one in town would buy it. He had asked the grocer that afternoon, then the tinsmith, then the man who dealt in rare goods. Each one looked at the wrapped bloom, went pale, and shut the door. "That thing brings robbers," the goods dealer said. "Take it far from here." At dawn, the tiny centipede crawled across Oliver's pillow. Its ocean-blue eyes shone in the gray light. It dropped to the floor and hurried to the window. Oliver had learned to trust it. He dressed, took the flower from under the stairs, and slipped out the front door. The centipede led him past the last houses and into the hills. Oliver climbed for an hour. His legs burned. The creature stopped at a gap between two boulders. Oliver squeezed through and stood still. Inside was a cave. Crystals grew from every wall, blue and purple and green. They caught the morning sun and threw light across the stone. In the center sat a small wooden chest, its lock shaped like a keyhole. A creature guarded it. It had the head and wings of a hawk and the body of a lion, no bigger than a dog. It fixed sharp eyes on Oliver and raised its feathers. A low sound came from its throat. Oliver froze. "I don't want your treasure," he said. He held up the flower. "I want to hide mine." The little guardian tilted its head. It looked at the centipede on Oliver's wrist. Then it stepped aside. The chest was open. Inside, on velvet, sat another blue flower like his own. Oliver understood. This cave kept dangerous treasures safe. The guardian watched over them. No robber could find this place. He knelt and set his flower beside the other. The guardian settled onto the chest lid, wings folded, eyes half closed. Oliver walked home lighter. The flower was safe now. No thief would ever reach it. But at his own front door, his stomach sank. He had solved one problem and made a worse one. The flower was hidden, yes. But hidden flowers paid no bills. The money still sat out of reach, locked in a cave he could not sell from. His family needed cash by the end of the week, and now his only fortune lay guarded far from any buyer.