by J. S. Skye
“Flurry, I know what you’re doing. If you keep acting like that, you can go to bed. Do you want that?” she asked.
Flurry did not want to answer her. He just stood there with his arms interlocked. He glared at her with an angry face.
“Okay! Have it your way! To bed, now!”
“Awww!” Flurry whined. His expression was answered with an cross stare from his mother. She pointed toward the bedroom with an exaggerated gesture. The little cub stormed off to his room and would have slammed the door, if he had been strong enough to do so with one that was human-sized.
Instead, he stomped over to his bead. He ripped his bedspread away, crawled up into his bed, and yanked the blanket over his head. He often liked to hide under the covers when he wanted to pretend that the world outside did not exist anymore.
Flurry huddled under his blanket and wallowed in self-pity. He had no idea what to do about his life anymore. At heart, he was still a child, but the things he experienced had now changed him. Grief overtook him. He thought about how he went from having exciting adventures to being scolded by his mother.
Bedtime for the others eventually came. Their mother tucked them all in and gave them each a kiss on the cheek. When she came to Flurry’s bed, she had a bit of a tug-of-war with him to get his blanket away. “You don’t want your bedtime kiss?” she asked.
Flurry sat there with his arms folded and his brow furrowed. “Well, you get one, whether you like it or not.” She quickly snagged him by the arm and gave him a big smooch on his adorable little face.
“Mommy!” Flurry shouted and wiped his cheek.
“Good night, everyone. I love all of you very much!”
They each replied in their own manner. Noah drew a heart on his sketchpad and held it up for her to view. Boaz and Caboose returned the sentiment. Honja replied in his native tongue. Flurry, however, did not answer her at all. He wanted her to know how angry he was. As far as he was concerned, she had ruined his entire day.
Their mother switched off the light and shut the door.
“You know, that was pretty rude of you!” Boaz informed the moody bear.
“Whatever! I don’t want to talk to you or anyone else right now,” Flurry answered. He laid his head on the pillow, pulled his blanket close, and closed his eyes. What seemed like hours went by at the pace of a crawl. Flurry tossed and turned, but sleep eluded him. He did not know why he could not rest. Flurry was uncertain if his lack of rest was due to his fear of nightmares, or if it was guilt for the way he had treated his mother. The cub knew he was wrong to be mean to her.
Flurry thought, Maybe if I make things right I can get some sleep. So he pulled away the blanket and sat up. He quickly climbed down, went to his dresser, and brought out a piece of paper and some crayons. He thought that drawing a picture for his mother would be a thoughtful way to say that he was sorry.
Flurry felt a bit better about himself as he thought about the gift he was going to make for his mother. He opened another drawer, where he was about to grab a light, when something dawned on him. He realized he had forgotten all about the gift Christopher Kringle had sent home with him close to two months ago. It was not like him to forget about a gift. All of the excitement to be home and with his friends had caused it to slip his mind. After he put it under his bed so long ago, it was a case of out of sight, out of mind.
Flurry loudly rummaged around under his bed. The noise roused Boaz from his sleep. “What are you up to now?” Boaz grumbled.
“Oh, my! I can’t believe that I forgot about Santa’s gift!” was Flurry’s explanation from the darkness in his corner of the room.
“Ah ha!” Flurry exclaimed. He pulled out a package wrapped in drab brown paper and tied with string. He ripped the paper off to reveal an old, dusty book with a locked clasp. The hardbound text had decorative metals and precious stones laid into its cover. Most peculiarly, the center of the cover had an indentation that was empty. It appeared to Flurry that something belonged there, but had been taken out.
Flurry took note how the metal and gemstones were placed in such a way that they resembled his family crest.
A folded slip of paper stuck out from the book’s pages. Flurry removed it and opened it up, but he was unable to read it. He handed it to Boaz, who was now out of bed and had come to Flurry’s side.
“What does it say?” Flurry asked.
Boaz put on his glasses. “This side says, The Book of Snow,” he answered. The lion cub flipped the folded paper open and read aloud: “I believe this belongs to you. Signed, C.K.”
“Hmmm.” Flurry was very curious. Just at that moment a glow came from the drawer of his nightstand. Flurry got up, opened the drawer, and grabbed the crystal he had stashed away there. It shone brightly. Right before their eyes, the beautiful gem changed shape in Flurry’s paw.
“Look! It’s the size of that hole in the book!” exclaimed Boaz. The lion directed Flurry’s attention to the book’s cover.
Being curious, Flurry placed the stone into the open hole. Immediately the book’s clasp unhinged, and it sprang open. Blue light beamed out from the pages of the book.
At this point, the others were now awake. Noah and Caboose rubbed their eyes. Honja rushed out from his bed to put a stop to whatever Flurry was doing. He was exhausted, and it enraged him that Flurry always had to be doing something to keep him from his rest.
Flurry reached out to touch the book, but Boaz warned him. “Wait! Are you sure that’s safe?”
Flurry drew back momentarily and thought about the question. “I’m not sure, but I don’t think Santa would give me something dangerous.”
“Good point,” Boaz reasoned.
Flurry reached out and turned a page in the book. He examined the pages. Each piece of parchment was decorated with beautiful drawings. “My kind of book!” Flurry exclaimed. “I like books that have pictures.”
“Flurry, is that you?” came a muffled voice from outside the bedroom door.
“Oh no! Mommy heard me!” Flurry whispered to Boaz.
“Flurry, you had better be in bed by the time I reach the door.” The sound of Flurry’s doom approached.
“Quick! We have to hide the book!” Flurry whispered to Boaz.
As Flurry was about to close the book, Honja arrived. He was beyond irritated with his white-furred roommate. Flurry reached over and patted Honja on the head while he closed the book with his other paw. Instantly, Flurry and Honja were sucked into the book, the cover slammed shut, and the clasp locked back in place.
Boaz, Caboose, and Noah were dumbfounded. They stared at the tome, and then at each other. None of the cubs knew what to do.
The sound of footsteps drew nearer. Noah pushed the book under Flurry’s bed and pulled Flurry’s blanket up over his pillow. Boaz did likewise with Honja’s bed. The three of them all jumped back into their beds and pretended to be asleep.
The door creaked open, and their mother peeked into the room. They seemed to all be asleep, so she turned back, and the door latched shut again. The sound of footsteps grew fainter until they could not hear her anymore. At the distant sound of their mother’s bedroom door closing, Boaz let out a sigh of relief.
The three cubs sat back up from their beds and looked at each other. Boaz glanced toward Noah and asked, “What are we going to do? Flurry and Honja are inside the book!” Boaz had a look of sheer terror on his face. Noah shrugged. Caboose had already gotten out of bed and now sniffed at the book. The polar bear dragged it back out from under Flurry’s bed.
“Maybe we should open it and see if say are in sare,” lisped Caboose.
“No way! What if we open it, and we get sucked in, too?” Boaz replied. “I don’t know how we’re going to break the news to Mommy. We need to talk to the person Flurry calls Santa. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”
CHAPTER 2
NERO
The chirps of crickets were the loudest sound to be heard in the quiet, peaceful village located in a very distant land kno
wn as Kunteris. This region was far beyond the reaches of Christopher Kringle’s domain or any land that had even heard of him.
It was a fine summer evening. Only the occasional hoot of an owl broke the continuous drone of nocturnal insects. The wind was soft and refreshing against the tapestry of green foliage. The trees swayed with each subtle wisp of the breeze. Their twin images reflected in the moonlit surface of a still, gentle pond.
Aside from the full moon, nothing but the dwindling embers of a central campfire lit the encampment of bamboo huts with grass roofs. The windows were almost completely dark except for one; a slight glow came from a larger hut on the outskirts of the village.
Inside stood a gray, furry animal with black stripes on her tail. Her snout was long and slender, and she had black fur that encircled each eye. She wore a pair of goggles while she chipped away at a gemstone on the table. The hut had been converted into a humble little workshop. There were metal gears which lay all over the place. A stone grinder, a box full of various gems, and a variety of tools littered the tables and shelves. There were a number of contraptions that looked like steam-powered mechanical inventions of some kind. By all appearances, this little worker was quite savvy with mechanical things.
The night grew late for her. She was deeply fatigued. It might have been more evident if she did not already have dark circles around her eyes naturally. Her work was very dear to her heart, and it always came before sleep or anything else. This project was of the utmost importance, and she was so close to being done with it. All she had to do was finish the gemstone and place it in the book, which she had yet to give a title.
She chipped away at the crystal. Her mind focused on how difficult it had been to get her paws on such a rare item. The stone was said to have special properties over space and time, and it cost her a pretty penny to acquire.
The chipping, grinding, and polishing finally came to a halt. She held up the stone against the moonlight that shone down through a skylight in the hut’s roof.
“Perfect!” the female coon said to herself. “Now, let’s see if you’ll fit.” She carefully laid the gemstone into an indentation on the book’s cover. It dropped into place smoothly. She was well pleased with her finished product. The raccoon realized the job would have been much more difficult if not for having found a way of depleting the crystal of its power temporarily. The precious stone was an unlimited, self-sustaining energy source, and it would have been problematic to work with it in that state. She had used her vast knowledge and devised a way to short out the gemstone long enough for her to mold it to her desired configuration. If she had not done this, the crystal would not have been able to be shaped. It would have adapted and changed to any form it so desired. It was like it had a mind of its own.
The indentation in the book’s cover worked to confine the gemstone to one size, as long as it remained in the book. “Now all I need to do is activate this little fella, and it’ll be done,” the raccoon told herself. A pleased smile came to her adorable, furry face.
She pulled out a smaller gemstone. It radiated blue light, shining brighter than the stars in the sky. She touched the smaller gemstone to the larger stone inlaid in the book’s cover. The light transferred from the small stone to the larger one that was now part of the book.
The book was complete. Its centerpiece gleamed brightly. She smiled at her masterful craftsmanship. Before she had a chance to take it all in, the locked clasp came free. The book sprang open, and two furry objects flew out from the book’s pages and across the room.
“Ahhh!” Flurry bellowed through the air before he landed in a pile of hay. He sat up and rubbed his head. “Wow! What a trip! I wonder where I am,” Flurry asked himself out loud. He looked himself over and brushed hay off of his fur.
Suddenly, Flurry sensed something move beneath him. He jumped up and spun around. In the hay below was Honja, and the little rabbit did not look pleased with Flurry for having landed on him.
“Oh! Hi, Honja! You’re here, too! Yay!” Flurry reached out to pat Honja on the head, but Honja quickly shot back into the pile of hay to avoid Flurry’s touch. The rabbit hated being petted on the head. No matter how many times Flurry had been reminded, it never stuck in his memory.
“Honja? Honja, you can come out now. I won’t pet you, I promise.”
Flurry and Honja had not realized they were not the only ones in the room. The raccoon cleared her throat, which startled Flurry. With a gasp, he whirled around to face the source of the sound. Flurry was relieved that it was a cute raccoon and not something more sinister.
The raccoon cautiously waved to him, as if she had no idea what else to do. She had not expected the book to fly open, let alone bring visitors.
“Oh! Hello, I’m Flurry!” said the little cub.
Honja peeked out from the hay and then went back into hiding. “Hi, there. I’m Lotora. Who’s your little friend?” the raccoon responded.
“Oh, him? That’s Honja.”
“He’s a cute little mouse!”
“Oh no! He hates that!”
Honja was infuriated. He ran out from under the pile of hay and head-butted the raccoon in the foot. He then did likewise to Flurry before he leapt back into his hiding spot.
“Oh, my! I’m so sorry! Please don’t be mad at him. He has a bit of a temper. That was very rude of him.”
“It’s fine,” Lotora reassured him.
“You see, he’s a bunny rabbit. He doesn’t like to be touched, petted on the head, or mistaken for a mouse. He probably has an entire list of things he hates, but those are the ones I remember at the moment.” Flurry put his paw to his mouth and pondered if he had left any out or not.
Lotora knelt down and leaned toward the haystack. She spoke softly, saying, “I’m sorry, little one. Please come out. I didn’t mean to upset you.” She tried to coerce the little brown bunny out of his seclusion. “I have a carrot for you, if you’ll come out. I’m not planning on eating it.” She stood up and reached for a plate of food that sat on the table next to her book. Some of the food had only been half eaten. It looked like she had barely nibbled any of it.
Lotora dangled the carrot down low where Honja could reach it. He peeked out from the hay. Slowly, he inched his way out with his ears swooped back. He sniffed at the carrot, grabbed it, and darted back inside the hay.
“Honja! You didn’t even say thank you! Mommy would be so disappointed!”
“Kamsahamnida,” came a faint voice from within the hay.
“Nae,” the raccoon replied.
“Wait a minute! You can understand him?” Flurry was surprised.
“Of course, I can.”
“Wow!”
“So, where are you two from?” Lotora was fascinated by her new guests.
“Well, I’m from a village called Ursus. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“No, I can’t say that I have.”
“How could you not know about Ursus? That’s where Santa’s lives!”
“Who’s Santa?”
“You don’t know who Santa is? Oh my goodness!” Flurry was shocked beyond belief.
“I’m sorry, but no,” Lotora replied. “What about him?” she asked while she pointed to where Honja still hid. “Is he from Ursus, too?”
“No. I think Daddy bought him in some distant country, on his way back to Middleasia,” Flurry replied.
“Where’s Middleasia?”
“You don’t know where Middleasia is either?”
“No,” Lotora replied. “Can you point to it on a map?”
“I suppose,” Flurry replied. He climbed up onto a chair to get a view of the table top.
Lotora pulled out a map from her shelf, blew off the dust, and unrolled it across the table. She lifted Flurry up from the chair and set him on the table next to the map.
On all fours, Flurry crawled over to one corner of the map and examined it. “Hmmm. It should be right around … hey! I don’t recognize anything on this map. This doesn’t look a
nything like the maps at Mommy and Daddy’s house. It doesn’t look like my Uncle Vinegar’s maps either. Where am I?”
“You’re in the land of Kunteris. This village is named Coonlei.”
“Kunteris? Kunteris? Where in the world is Kunteris? I’ve never even heard of Kunteris before!” Flurry looked worried and flustered. He started to breathe heavily.
“Calm down! Relax! Everything is fine. Just breathe. I have a theory why you don’t recognize anything.”
Flurry calmed down a bit. He nervously stuffed Lotora’s leftovers in his mouth to cope. A smile came upon Lotora’s face. Her entire demeanor changed. She acted excited about her internal thoughts. “Aha! This is amazing! If my theory is true, this is the greatest news ever! What were you doing the moment before you arrived here?”
With food stuffed in his mouth, he replied, “I was looking at a book that Santa gave me. It’s called The Book of Snow. I put a crystal in it, and it opened up. I turned some pages, and the next thing I know, I’m here.”
“The Book of Snow, huh?” Lotora turned and paced back and forth. She chanted the phrase “The Book of Snow” repeatedly under her breath. To Flurry, it looked like she was having a discreet conversation with herself.
Her muttering reminded the bear cub of his uncle. Uncle Vinegar often did likewise, when Flurry observed him deep in his studies. “What? What is it?” Flurry inquired.
“Well, my theory is that you’ve traveled in time through my book. I deduce you’re from the future, because I haven’t named the book yet. I was thinking of calling it The Book of Frost. I made this book to be a recounting of the horrors and tyranny brought upon our many lands and nations by Jack Frost. This book is to be a record of all that was, is, and will be.
“With each day, his strength grows. He’s been killing off all of the red pandas so he can be the one and only in all of existence. He doesn’t want to have any rival to his beauty or power. The number of red pandas that still live are few, and those that remain have been in hiding for many years.”
“Wait a minute! Jack’s alive? But I saw him die!”
