Winter's Flurry Adventure Read online

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  About the Authors

  Books by Elise Allen

  Winter rolled over in bed and pulled the covers tighter around her. She could feel the sun streaming through the window of her bedroom. It had to be late morning already, but she was so cozy under her layers of furry blankets. Why wake up before she had to?

  WHOOSH!

  In a single swoop, all of Winter’s covers flew off her. If she hadn’t been wearing soft flannel pajamas, a pom-pommed nightcap, and fuzzy slipper-socks, she might have caught a chill. Instead, she was just startled. She bolted upright and cried, “Flurry!”

  Flurry, Winter’s giant pet polar bear, stood at the foot of her bed. In one massive paw he held all of Winter’s blankets. The other paw covered his mouth while he giggled.

  “I’m going to get you, Flurry!” Winter hollered.

  She sounded angry, but she wasn’t. She and Flurry did this every single morning. Parts of the routine changed. Sometimes instead of pulling the covers off Winter, Flurry tickled her, or pulled her off the bed and threw her into a giant pile of pillows, or just laid his snout right against her nose and stared until her eyes flew open. Still, the result was always the same.

  The chase was on.

  Flurry raced out of the bedroom, and Winter slid off her bed to follow. Her bed was on stilts, like a top bunk without a bottom, and instead of a ladder it had a long, winding slide to the floor. When she didn’t feel like sliding down, she’d swing hand over hand on monkey bar hoops that ran across the ceiling, then drop down onto her snowflake-shaped trampoline. Or better still, onto Flurry’s back.

  Winter ran out of her room and leaned over the top-floor balcony. On the second floor she saw a grandfather clock … with white furry arms and legs poking out behind it.

  “I see you, Flurry!” she shouted, then leaped onto the staircase banister and slid down, whooping all the way. She landed close to the bear, but Flurry didn’t give up. He pushed the grandfather clock into Winter’s path while he barreled away.

  The clock fell with a SMASH, but Winter wasn’t bothered. She vaulted over it and continued the chase. Ahead of her, Flurry crashed and bashed into couches, clawed holes in beanbag chairs, and tumbled so hard down the snow-covered sledding hill that zipped from the second floor to the first that he left a bear-shaped dent right in the middle. He didn’t mean to cause so much damage, but he was a big bear. When he ran into something, destruction usually followed.

  Winter didn’t worry. She simply leapfrogged the damage and kept chasing. When she reached the sledding hill, she pulled a saucer sled from a wall hook and threw herself down headfirst. The sled bounced into Flurry’s crater, ricocheted out, and spun wildly, getting Winter dizzier and dizzier until she crashed into a ten-foot-deep stack of pillows.

  Winter heard bells.

  In some universes this would mean she’d hit her head too hard, but here it was the sound of Winter’s home fixing itself. She cuddled into the pillows and gazed up to enjoy the show. Shimmering sparkles danced over everything cracked, torn, or overturned. The grandfather clock righted itself, the beanbags sewed themselves up, and the dent in the sledding hill disappeared.

  Winter’s mother, Mother Nature, told stories about the Outworlders, who had to clean up after themselves when they made a mess. If Outworlders broke things when they played, the things stayed broken. Winter couldn’t even imagine that. She was a Seasonal Sparkle, one of four unique sisters tasked with changing the seasons for the Outworlders, whom Mother called “humans.” Each sister lived in her own Sparkledom, alive with the spirit of her particular season. Everything in Winter’s Sparkledom suited her perfectly—especially her self-fixing home. What better place for a Sparkle and a bear to play?

  Once her home was back to normal, Winter scanned the first floor for Flurry. Most of the floor held a giant ice rink, ringed by fluffy white couches and beanbags that looked like giant snowballs.

  Suddenly, one of the snowballs sneezed.

  Winter covered a laugh. The snowball was Flurry, curled into a ball to look like one of the beanbags. Silently, Winter slid onto the ice, but her slippered feet zipped so quickly she lost control. She kicked her legs and pinwheeled her arms until she smacked into Flurry’s side.

  “Gotcha!” she cried. “Let’s skate!”

  Flurry obeyed. He stood on his hind legs, grabbed Winter’s hand, and pulled her to the middle of the ice. Winter whooped as they spun around faster and faster until they were both so dizzy they collapsed. Flurry landed on his back, with Winter sprawled across his belly. When she caught her breath, she crawled up his body until they were nose-to-snout.

  “You are the best friend a Sparkle could ever have,” she told him.

  Flurry licked her cheek. Then his stomach growled. He sniffed the air hopefully and his eyes grew wide.

  Winter smelled it too. “Breakfast!”

  She and Flurry slid across the floor to the kitchen, which always knew when they needed a bite to eat. Winter climbed Flurry’s back and leaped into a carpeted gondola that hung from the ceiling. Its top half was open, and at perfect snout height for Flurry when he stood tall. The table inside groaned under the weight of pancakes, French toast, flaky biscuits spread with butter and jam, and steaming mugs of peppermint hot chocolate with whipped cream. Winter ate a few delicious mouthfuls of everything. Flurry swallowed the rest. When he finished, he yawned, stretched, curled into a ball on the floor, and immediately fell asleep.

  “Silly bear,” Winter murmured affectionately. She jumped out of the gondola onto his back—Flurry didn’t even blink—then skated to the rock-climbing wall that led back up to her room. She scaled her way up, then showered and changed into snow boots and one of her many blue snowsuits with a fuzz-trimmed hood that circled her face. Winter also wore her headband with its magical sparkle-gem right in the center. That she never took off. She even wore it in the shower and in her sleep. The headband was one of the two most important things she owned. The other was her magic scepter, which she locked up every night to protect it from the Weeds.

  The Weeds were the Sparkles’ worst enemies, boys who answered to a man named Bluster Tempest. Bluster and the Weeds lived to cause trouble, and they’d love to get their hands on the Sparkles’ headbands or scepters. Without those items, the Sparkles couldn’t use their Sparkle Powers. Worse, they couldn’t do the Sparkle Ceremony that changed the seasons for the Outworlders.

  Winter walked to a large chest in the corner. She looked around to make sure she was alone, then pushed the chest aside, lifted a loose floorboard, and pulled out a plain wood box. It looked bland on the outside. That was on purpose. When she touched her headband gem to its lid, the box popped open to reveal a stunning scepter nestled in pillowy blue satin.

  When Winter pulled out her scepter, she noticed the orb at its top was perfectly blue. That made sense. There were still many weeks left of winter. In the last few days of each season, the orbs on all of the Sparkle Sisters’ scepters slowly clouded over with a silvery mist that told them exactly when they needed to gather in Mother Nature’s Sparkledom for the season-changing Ceremony.

  Winter slipped her scepter into her snowsuit’s holster, returned the box to its secret spot, then peered outside. There had been a blizzard last night. Thick snow covered everything in sight, and Winter ached to play in it with Flurry. She somersaulted to a corner of her room, then slid down a long pole that ended in the kitchen.

  Flurry was still
fast asleep, but Winter knew how to wake him. She reached into her coat and pulled out a giant candy cane. The minute she peeled back the crackling plastic wrap, Flurry’s nose twitched. He reached out his tongue, searching for the sweet treat even in his sleep.

  “You’ve got to move more than that if you want it,” Winter said, then leaned close to add, “Come play and I’ll give you five.”

  Flurry’s eyes snapped open and he leaped to his feet. He gobbled down the candy cane the second Winter tossed it to him, then begged for more.

  “Yes,” Winter told Flurry. “But after we go play! Come on!”

  She ran outside and Flurry bounded after her. Cold air nipped their faces, but Winter felt only joy as she gazed at the snowdrifts around her home. They rose higher than her head!

  “YES!” she whooped. She ran facefirst into the deliciously cold snow. When she backed out, she showed Flurry the Winter-print she’d made. “See? It looks like a gingerbread man! You try.”

  On all fours, Flurry barreled into the snowdrift. He went so far that Winter almost lost sight of him, then he spun in a circle again and again.

  “What are you doing, crazy bear?” Winter asked. “Are you chasing your tail?”

  Flurry’s circles got wider and wider. Winter could see him only each time he passed the hole he’d made to enter. Finally, he backed out through that hole with a big grin on his face.

  “What did you do?” Winter asked. She walked into the hole and gasped. By turning in circles inside the snowdrift, Flurry had carved out a round cozy room, like the inside of an igloo.

  “It’s a snow fort! I love it!” Winter cried as she ran back out and hugged Flurry. Then she gasped. “But you know what? We could make an even bigger snow fort!” She gasped again. “No … we could make the biggest snow fort … ever! And we’ll bring in blankets and pillows and make it warm and cozy and then we can call my sisters over and we can have a slumber party in the snow fort! Let’s do it!”

  Winter raced inside the fort, ready to dig, but Flurry didn’t follow. Once Winter realized she was all alone, she popped her head back out to find her bear curled up for a nap. He snored.

  “You are ridiculous.” She sighed. She moved close and whispered in his ear, “Did I mention that during the slumber party you can have all the candy canes you can eat?”

  Flurry jumped up, trotted back into the snow fort, and started digging as fast as he could. Side by side, the best friends were unstoppable. Flurry carved giant paths through the snow with his massive paws. Then Winter used her Sparkle Power—the power to turn things to ice—to freeze the newly carved walls and keep them strong. Her job took longer than Flurry’s, so her bear was soon out of sight, but in his wake he left lots of snowy hallways, caverns, and chambers—the biggest snow fort ever! Winter could already imagine her sisters’ amazed faces when they saw it.

  That was when Winter heard something horrible: a high-pitched screeching yelp.

  It was Flurry, and he made that sound only when he was terrified.

  “I’m coming, Flurry!” Winter yelled, and took off as fast as she could.

  Winter was out of breath when she reached the end of the cavern.

  “Flurry? Flurry, what’s wrong?”

  The bear was huddled in a corner. He stared at the wall across from him, terrified. Winter patted his head. “It’s okay, Flurry. I’m here.”

  She followed his gaze and saw a small hole in the ground. He must have uncovered it while digging. “Is something in there?” Winter asked.

  Flurry shuddered. Winter thought of Sleet, one of the Weeds. Had he tunneled into her Sparkledom? That would definitely make Flurry nervous, but it couldn’t be Sleet. The hole was too small.

  What could it be?

  Winter pulled out her scepter. “Whatever’s in there, don’t do anything crazy,” she said, making her voice sound brave. “I don’t want to turn you to ice, but I will if I have to.”

  No response.

  Winter looked back at Flurry—was there really something in there?

  Flurry whined.

  Winter crept close to the hole. Then, when she was about to peek inside, something leaped out at her! It was small, but it jumped so quickly it smacked Winter square in the chest and knocked her backward to the ground.

  “Aaaah!” Winter screamed. She dropped her scepter and grabbed her attacker with both hands.

  She was holding a tiny baby fox! The fuzzy white puppy crouched on Winter’s parka, his front paws low and his back in the air, ready to play. His tail wagged so quickly Winter felt the breeze.

  “Arf!” he barked.

  Then he pounced and licked Winter’s nose.

  Winter burst out laughing. She got up and showed the pup to Flurry. “Are you kidding, big guy? You were afraid of this?” The fox scrambled up the arm of her coat, curled on her shoulder, and nuzzled her right cheek. “Awwww,” Winter said. “That’s so sweet.”

  Suddenly, Winter felt Flurry’s giant head against her left side. He nuzzled between her neck and shoulder, leaning so hard that Winter fell over and almost landed on the fox pup.

  “Flurry!” Winter said. “Look what you did! I could have hurt the little guy!” She knelt down to the pup. “You okay?”

  The pup seemed more than okay. He jumped up and down but was so clumsy on his oversized baby paws that he toppled over. Winter laughed. “You’re so funny.”

  Out of nowhere, the entire fort shook with the force of an earthquake. Rivers of snow poured from the ceiling. Winter wheeled around to find out why … and saw Flurry jumping up and down, an adorable smile on his face.

  “Flurry, you’re too big to do that!” Winter cried. “You’ll cave in the fort!”

  She grabbed her scepter and quickly chanted:

  She flicked her wrist, and a spray of blue glittery light shot out of her scepter, turning every spot it hit to solid ice. Winter spun until all the walls and ceiling were coated and sturdy.

  “There,” she said. “Much better.”

  Winter felt a tug at her feet and looked down. The baby fox had her boot laces between his teeth and shook them back and forth while he growled. Winter laughed.

  “Go get those shoelaces,” she cooed to the fox. “Go get ’em.”

  Suddenly, Winter jumped with a yelp.

  “OW! Flurry, that’s my bottom!”

  Winter couldn’t believe it. Flurry had just chomped the back of her snowpants! What had gotten into him? Yes, he was spooked when he found the fox, but now he knew it was harmless. Why was he still acting so strangely, and how could she make him feel better?

  Before she could figure it out, she heard a tiny, high-pitched whine. It was the puppy. He had his head tipped back and his snout in the air.

  “Is that supposed to be a howl?” she asked, amused. “Do it again.”

  Instead, Flurry howled. His roar was so loud it cracked the fort’s ice walls and terrified the baby fox, who leaped into Winter’s arms.

  “What is up with you, Flurry?” she asked. “You’re pushing me and nipping me and now you nearly brought down the fort!”

  Flurry hung his head low. Winter sighed. She wasn’t mad at him, but he was really making a mess of things. “Just … hang over there and chill out a minute, okay?” she told him. “I need to figure out what to do with this little guy.”

  Flurry trudged to the far end of the room. He looked sad, and Winter was already planning to comfort him with a cookie party and a long cuddly nap back home, but now she needed to think. She plopped on the ground and scooped up the fox. She held him to her face and rubbed her nose against his snout, just like she did with Flurry when he was a tiny cub.

  “Where is your family, puppy?” Winter asked. “How did you end up down here all alone?” The fox didn’t answer, of course. He just batted at the fur around Winter’s hood.

  “I bet you got separated from your family in the blizzard,” Winter said, “and ended up buried in the snow. But you know what? You’re in luck. My very best friend in th
e world happens to be an excellent tracker. If anyone can find your family, it’ll be him. Isn’t that right, Flurry?”

  When the bear didn’t respond, Winter craned her head around. “Flurry?”

  Flurry was gone. Winter raised her voice and called louder.

  “Flurry?”

  Then she saw it—a new, bear-sized tunnel through the snow. Winter ran to its entrance and looked inside. It seemed to snake along forever before it turned a corner and disappeared from view.

  How could Flurry have dug so far so fast? And why?

  “Arf!”

  Winter looked down. The fox puppy bounced at her feet, eager to play.

  “Oh, no.” Winter gasped as it all made sense. Why hadn’t she seen it? Flurry was jealous of the fox!

  But Flurry was her best friend in the world. Winter loved him. He had nothing to be jealous about. Didn’t he know that?

  Maybe he didn’t. And now he’d run away.

  Winter raced down the new tunnel, screaming Flurry’s name.

  “Flurry! Flurry! FLURRY!”

  The walls groaned, and Winter knew she’d made a terrible mistake. Her loud yell had caused an avalanche. She raced back the way she’d come as the entire passage tumbled in on itself. As she ran, she pulled out her scepter, pointed it behind her, and screamed:

  Blue Sparkle magic poured from Winter’s scepter and covered everything in her wake. She knew she was safe when the roar of falling snow gave way to silence. Only then did she turn … to face a solid wall of ice. In it she saw her own sad reflection.

  A voice whined. The baby fox stood at her feet. He looked sad too.

  “I stopped the cave-in,” Winter said, “but I cut off the only way to follow him.”

  She tapped her scepter against the ice, then shook her head. “It’s too thick to break, and it’ll never melt down here. Not unless I grab the sun and bring it inside.”

  Winter sighed, then suddenly brightened. “That’s it!” she cried. “I’ll grab the sun and bring it inside!”