Five Thawed Tails and Sputtering Wheels

The ground outside Moonship did not just shimmer; it wobbled and danced like warm jelly. Planet Sheekium’s great salt basin was so bright and fiery that before popping open the hatch, Knut and Dinkabel had to prepare. Dinkabel rummaged through her wardrobe of twenty-nine space uniforms until she found two crinkly, shiny silver heat suits. They slipped them on over their clothes with a loud, satisfying zip-zip-zip that tickled Knut's heart-shaped head.

"Nice and breezy inside!" Knut giggled, bouncing on the soft soles of his boots. Outside, the heat pushed against their silvery suits like a big, cozy blanket, but inside, they stayed as cool as mint leaves.

They marched together across the white crust of the salt flats. The ground went crunch, crunch, crunch under their toes. Up ahead, clustered tightly together like five giant sugar drops, sat five frosty crystal shells. Inside each one slept a unicorn: two big ones with mother-of-pearl horns, and three little ones tucked close against their flanks. Even under the baking sun, a frosty mist drifted from their trapped hooves.

"The sky-thief caught a whole family this time," Dinkabel said softly, her round eyes wide. "Let's wake them up."

Knut reached into his suit's front pouch and lifted out the fuzzy magic blossom. It puffed softly in his palm, breathing out warm, sweet cinnamon air. He stepped forward and held the blossom gently against the first crystal shell. With a happy little fizz, the frost began to melt like lemon ice on a picnic table. Down ran the clear, warm trickles into the white salt. The mother unicorn opened her velvet eyes, blinked twice, and gave a joyful, gentle nicker.

One by one, Knut and Dinkabel visited the others. Fizz, trickle, pop! The second big unicorn tossed his silver mane and stretched his legs. Then came the three little ones—fizz, fizz, fizz! The baby unicorns shook out their fluffy tails and pranced around their parents, kicking up harmless sprays of salty white dust.

"Hooray!" Dinkabel cheered, clapping her rainbow-striped hands inside her silver mittens. The unicorns nuzzled Knut’s pink cheek with their velvet noses, leaving tiny damp spots that smelled like cinnamon and morning clover.

Just as the smallest unicorn did a tiny, clumsy jump of pure happiness, a strange sound drifted across the flat ground: chug-chug-clank.

Far across the shimmering plain, a thick puff of dark smoke puffed into the amber sky. It curled up like a woolly black mushroom.

Knut reached down to his belt and pulled out his little brass spyglass. He pressed it to his eye and twisted the bumpy metal rings until the distant blur snapped into crisp focus.

Through the glass, the smoke wasn't coming from a campfire at all. Right beside a cluster of bubbling, gurgling mud pots sat a tiny wooden cart on crooked wheels. Its little iron smokestack was sputtering black puffs, and every few seconds, a tiny iron gear bounced right off the side and tumbled into the bubbling mud.