A Blanket for the Bear

Floating in a soft lavender shimmer, the gentle fairy godmother pointed one glowing finger toward the corner of the garden. Right beside the enormous white Martian shell sat a round, fuzzy blossom that Knut had never noticed before. Its bright orange petals curved like little smiling cups, and when Dinkabel leaned close with her gentle round eyes wide, she felt a puff of pleasant heat, just like opening an oven full of fresh oat biscuits.

"That is the blossom you need," whispered the fairy godmother with a calm, comforting smile. "Pick it gently, little friends."

Knut reached out with both hands, his pink heart-shaped head bobbing with care. With one soft tug—pop!—the flower came loose. As Dinkabel blew a tiny puff of air across the fuzzy petals, a warm magic fire began to dance in the blossom's center. It did not burn their fingers at all. Instead, it sparkled like golden sugar and crackled with a sweet, humming melody.

Together, Knut and Dinkabel carried the glowing blossom over to the frozen unicorn statue. Knut tipped the flower forward, letting the sparkling warmth pour like liquid honey over the frosty mane and chilled white hooves. Drippity-drip went the icicles. Puddle-pat went the slush on the green lawn. Slower than a yawn, but faster than a melting popsicle, the cold crust slid right off the silver coat.

The magnificent unicorn blinked its big dark eyes, shook its velvety ears, and let out a happy whinny. It leaped into the air, prancing in a merry circle around the garden shell before stamping its golden hooves in a joyful dance. A brilliant, shimmering spark flickered on its horn, bright and restored.

Then the fairy godmother's soft voice turned very quiet. She told them why the poor creature had turned to ice in the first place. Far beyond the purple clouds, a mischievous fairy was sweeping through the worlds, snatching away unicorn magic for a wicked and greedy plan.

"We will help you!" Dinkabel said at once, smoothing her braided hair with a determined nod of her square head.

Knut puffed out his chest, his pink skin glowing with a warm, steady aura. "We have Moonship. We will find every single bit of stolen magic and bring it home."

There was no time to lose, but an adventure in the deep sky always required proper supplies. First came the most important choice of all: clothes. Inside the round dome home, Dinkabel opened her tall wooden wardrobe. Inside hung twenty-nine different space uniforms, lined up in neat rows. There were spotted suits, stripey suits, fluffy yellow suits, and suits with shiny silver ruffles. Dinkabel inspected them one by one, tapping her chin, before pulling out her very favorite blue tunic. It was soft, roomy, and just right for climbing in and out of spaceship hatches.

While Dinkabel folded two thick wool blankets, filled a basket with crunchy sunflower crackers, and poured steaming hot starlight tea into a silver thermos, Knut sat down at his sturdy wooden worktable.

He spread out a wide parchment star chart that smelled like dry cedarwood. In the middle of the dark paper, he set down his brass compass. The mother-of-pearl needle began to whirl. Round and round it spun with a lively tick-tick-tick, until it locked firmly in place with a solid clink. The pearly tip pointed straight toward a distant patch of stars shaped like a sleepy, curled-up bear.

Dinkabel came over and peered over his shoulder. "Look there," she said, pointing a rainbow-colored finger at the bear's fluffy belly. Tucked right between two misty constellations was a cloud-nest, drawn on the map with a tiny silver bell beside it. That had to be where the mischief lived.

Knut pulled on his favorite cozy spacesuit—the one that looked delightfully like an old pair of underpant shorts—and marched out through the airlock to Moonship. The little white ship sat proudly on its landing legs, its round viewport shining in the dusk. Knut scrambled inside the cabin, checked every bouncy needle on the dashboard, and gave the copper ignition knobs a steady twist. Down below, the rocket thrusters began to murmur with their familiar, comforting bubble.

With starlight tea in the basket, the compass set on the sleeping bear, and the unicorn resting safely in the garden below, Moonship's hatch was ready to swing shut.