Six Days of Star-Jam

Knut unfolded the berry-ink map across the wooden bench, pressing its curly corners flat with his fingers. Dinkabel leaned close, her square head tilting as she followed the dark dotted trail.

"Look here," Knut said, pointing his pink finger past the bubbling mud pots. "The path winds around the orange sand dunes, but then it goes up, up, up into the tall crystal peaks."

Dinkabel counted the tiny drawn campsites, tapping each dot with a neat rhythm. "One, two, three, four, five, six. That means six whole days of walking before we reach the crooked tower! Little hooves and little boots cannot climb for six days without breakfast, lunch, and supper."

"And what about cold toes?" Knut asked, his love-heart head glowing with a warm pink light. "Crystal peaks sound very chilly indeed."

"Then we must pack properly," said Dinkabel. "Back to Moonship!"

The five rescued unicorns trotted right behind them, their hooves making light tap-tap sounds on the ship's ramp. Moonship hummed a cheerful tune as it carried everyone across the sky and back down to their round dome home. Outside in the front garden, the big white fossilized shell rested quietly on the lawn, gleaming like an enormous pearl in the evening light.

Inside the warm dome, Dinkabel smoothed the map across the wooden kitchen table. She bustled back and forth in her bright blue tunic, opening cupboards with happy little clicks.

"Six days means six jars of star-jam," Dinkabel declared, setting a stout wicker hamper on the floor. Into the basket went six glass jars filled with squelchy purple jam that smelled sweet like summer berries. Next came a neat stack of juicy star-melon slices, wrapped tightly in cool green leaves so they would stay fresh and crisp for the journey.

Meanwhile, Knut worked beside the central shelf where the golden cup stood shiny and proud. He gathered a bundle of thick, sun-woven blankets and rolled them into tidy bundles. From his workbench, he lifted a coil of glittering moon-silk rope. He looped it around his arm with a soft rustle, tucking four spare copper cogs and two extra pairs of shiny silver mittens deep into his travel sack.

"For the high rocks," Knut said, giving the rope a gentle pat.

A quiet scuffle came from the open doorway. Five pearly heads poked gently inside the room. The mother unicorn gave a soft, friendly whimper, resting her velvet nose right against Knut’s shoulder, while the three little unicorns nudged the wicker hamper with curious sniffs.

"Almost ready, little ones," Dinkabel whispered with a smile, stroking their silver manes. Through the round dome windows, the amber sky was slowly turning into deep purple twilight, and the distant, frosty peaks stood waiting for tomorrow's climb.