Melting in Moltara

      The 30th day of Hiding was the hottest day of my life.

      My brothers and I had woken up appallingly early, unable to sleep any longer in the unflinching heat of the still-rising sun. Moltaran summers were a triple threat—the air was so heavy and stagnant with humidity that it was like breathing in glue, and the rays from the maliciously hot sun reflected off the metal buildings as if they were erected with the sole purpose of amplifying warmth, and then of course there was the molten lava, steaming us from below, soaking into our ground and saturating our home in dreaded heat.

      “This is all your fault,” I said, somewhat delirious, while pointing a half-raised paw at my oldest brother.

      The three of us—Cirrus, Crypsis, and I—were sprawled across the kitchen tile in front of the open refrigerator door. If our owner woke up and caught us, she would probably send us all to the Pound, maybe for real this time. She always threatened to do it when we were bickering or getting into trouble, and more than once she had dragged us all the way to the Neopian Plaza, yelling and lecturing the whole way there. She never actually left us, though. Crypsis would usually start crying and beg to go home, and no one was immune to those camo krawk tears. Not even Shelly, our owner. Luckily for us, she liked to sleep in.

      Cirrus reached over and bopped me with his fuzzy fist.

      “Is not,” he said.

      “Is too,” I dutifully replied. It was just for tradition’s sake, though. I was too hot to argue.

      But Crypsis wasn’t.

      “Is so!” he cut in, unexpectedly taking my side. “You’re the one who picked Motara. I wanted to move to Terror Mountain. It is probably snowing there right now. You can probably make snow angels. You can probably have a snowball fight. You can probably go inside and sit by the fire and sip a nice hot cup of cocoa and still feel all cold and tingly in your toes.”

      “Ugh, please don’t say the word “fire” in my presence. It burnssss,” I moaned, wiping the sweat from the fur above my eyes. My paw came away covered in whipped cream and sprinkles.

      “I’m melting!” I cried dramatically, rolling over onto my stomach while simultaneously pushing my brothers away on either side of me, out of range of the fridge.

      “Stop hogging the cold, Cadberry. You know you can’t actually melt.”

      “I most certainly do not know that, Cirrus. How many chocolate Yurbles have you met besides me, huh? I’ll tell you. None. You’ve met none. Probably because their brothers all dragged them to Moltara and then they melted!” I accused. From the way I was lying on the floor I couldn’t see Cirrus roll his eyes, but I expected he was doing it anyway.

      Then, rather unexpectedly and, in my opinion, unnecessarily, Cirrus jumped up. He actually jumped. Like he had energy to spare.

      “Let’s do something,” he said.

      For a moment all three of us were completely silent, and I rolled slightly to my left to see if Crypsis had died of shock. He hadn’t.

      “Um, Cir, if you haven’t noticed, it is like a million degrees. I can barely even blink without overheating, and you want us to go outside—where it is even hotter—and do something?”

      “Why not?” Cirrus asked, grabbing one of my legs and one of Crypsis’ arms. He started dragging us toward the door like he was Jeran, Hero of Neopia, and not Cirrus, Scrawny Cloud Usul and Renown Tormentor of Siblings. “It’s been like this all week, and I think my brain is turning to mush from all the Freon. I want to get out. I want to explore something. We’ve only just got here, after all. How do you know Terror Mountain is better than Moltara if we’ve barely even left our house? For all we know, there is a swimming pool behind that building with the hammer.”

      “You mean Town Hall?” I asked, skeptical. Cirrus was up to no good, as usual. As Usul. Get it? Because he’s an Usul. Ha.

      He kept dragging us, though, undeterred. I had no idea where he was getting the strength and motivation to move, but I wanted in on it.

      I was too hot to even bother resisting.

      Why not indeed.

      The moment we peaked outside (Crypsis and I finally on our feet, after quite a bit of struggling and complaint), I could feel the sun in my bones. Like the way people sometimes say they can feel a chill in their bones, except the exact opposite of that. Walking across the ground was like walking on a blazing fire. I could swear the air was crackling---crack, pop, crack—with heat. The very air. And all this not to mention the stench of the city. The metal, the iron, heated up as it was, smelled worse than the smelliest jelly and the oldest rotten left shoe.

      Cirrus started coughing as soon as we reached the road—either from the sludge-like air, or the thick factory smoke, or that bad, bad smell. He carried on, though, chin raised high and fists clenched like preparing for battle.

      We all made it about ten paces before Crypsis dropped into a squat and started gasping for breath.

      “Go on without me,” he wailed, ducking his head into my shadow. I twisted around so he would be back in the sun, just to spite him. As any good sister would.

      “Don’t be such a baby, Cryp. Look, “I took a sweeping glance around through squinted eyes, “There. Let’s go there,” I announced, gaze falling on what looked to be a café, or something. We hadn’t eaten breakfast yet, and I was desperate for a glass of fresh-squeezed florange juice.

      Cirrus smiled, relieved. Toward the café we went.

      I noticed as we walked the short distance that there wasn’t anyone around. It was early, sure, but there was no one. Not a single neopet in sight. It wasn’t a particularly big city, and since it was arranged in a circle I could see pretty much everywhere and yup, we were definitely the only ones about. Luckily, the café shop place—Moltaran Morsels, the sign read—looked open. I charged ahead, pulling the door wide and wishing with all my heart for air conditioning.

      I was disappointed, and not for the first time since our move. And not for the last time, either.

      “Welcome!” A voice boomed at us, as soon as we were all inside the small space. It was decorated like everything else in the city, with metal walls and exposed ceilings and harsh bulb lighting. There was a large counter in the middle of the cramped room, and behind it stood a cheery Bruce in a utility belt and leather mitts. It was an odd look for a chef.

      We murmured our greetings back as he produced some menus.

      “Don’t see many customers this time of year! Ya looking for a hot meal?” he asked, grinning. “Special of the day is Moltaran Bac Lava.” He pointed to a dish on the counter that appeared to be made from literal lava, sandwiched between either really, really crunchy bread or thin pieces of sheet metal.

      Crypsis struggled to conceal his gasp of horror, and only mostly succeeded.

      “Um,” Cirrus asked, using his Polite Voice, “Do you have anything for breakfast?”

      The Bruce laughed. “Right, of course. We have Rock Waffles, Root Pancakes, Fire Eggs…what can I get you?”

      Crypsis gulped down his horror.

      “I’m actually really thirsty,” I said honestly, though I wasn’t feeling good about the probability of finding florange juice here.

      “Sure, sure,” the Bruce answered, not catching on to our discomfort in the slightest. “How about a Blazing Stone Mug of Borovan? Or my personal favorite, Hot Magma.”

      “Actually I forgot my wallet at home,” Crypsis chirped, his voice pitched high with distress. He turned and fled out the door, leaving Cirrus and I to bid a sheepish goodbye to the puzzled shopkeeper.

      We found Crypsis just outside, flopped over on the ground, eyes closed and pinched.

      “Well that went well,” I sighed, dropping down next to him on the burning pavement. I patted his head awkwardly, and he ducked into my paw, despite the temperature. It didn’t really matter—it’s not like it could get any hotter, right?

      “Come on, guys. We can’t give up after one bad shop. Let’s go there.”

      I followed Cirrus’ pointing paw to the left of Moltaran Morsels. Crypsis didn’t even open his eyes. I poked him to make sure he was still conscious, and he squealed.

      “The caves? Cirrus, I think the only place possibly hotter than Moltara City would be the caves below Moltara City.”

      Cirrus shook his head, gripping my arms and pulling me back to my feet.

      “Heat rises. It’ll probably be cool as Kiko Lake down there. Maybe that’s where all the pets are. They sure aren’t up here,” he added.

      “Right, well you’ve convinced me.”

      “Really?” Cirrus asked, still pulling on my arms. It came away sticky with chocolate, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust and leaned over to wipe it on Crypsis, who didn’t even resist.

      “No. Yes. It’s not like there is anything else to do. Come on, Cryp. Up and at ‘em. Cirrus is trying to melt me into a puddle, probably as revenge for that time with the meepits. And if he is making me suffer, you’re suffering with us. Get up,” I ordered, feeling only a tiny twinge of guilt. Crypsis really wasn’t looking good—his scales were scalding hot, which couldn’t be too comfortable. I was practically dripping sprinkley goop, myself, but it must have been even worse for him. Maybe it really would be cooler under the city. At least they would be out of the sun.

      It couldn’t possibly get any hotter.

      It got hotter.

      It had taken us a few minutes to rally Crypsis, but we got him moving in the end. The entrance to the cave was situated quite close, and when we looked down the steps, it was pretty dark and kind of hard to see. In our dehydrated delirium, that seemed like a pretty good sign. No light = no sun = no heat, right?

      Right.

      We made our way down the stairs quickly, since Crypsis was basically just rolling down them, and Cirrus was still as high energy as he’d been all morning. I was the one trailing behind now, taking it one step at a time. Steps kind of freak me out, to be honest. It is a silly thing to be scared of, I guess, when things like the Pant Devil and Dr Sloth and older brothers exist in the world, but steps just really aren’t my thing.

      So I was keeping my eyes on the ground, focused on my footing, when I smacked right into Crypsis’ pointy back, nearly blinding myself on his spikey mane.

      “Ow,” I complained loudly, pushing him forward. He didn’t budge.

      I rubbed my eye, blinked a few times, and then looked around to make sure my vision was still intact. And then I realized why Crypsis had stopped so abruptly at the end of the steps. We were in the caves, all right, and there was lava.

      Actual lava just a few steps away, flowing waterfall-style but at a fraction of the speed, like pudding. Really hot, really lethal pudding.

      I didn’t feel scared, though. I was kind of excited. I wanted to see it close-up. I wanted to see it up close right now. Apparently Cirrus had the same idea, because he was already ahead of me. I raced after him, never one to be left behind, and I could hear Crypsis’ claws slapping the stone floor behind us.

      There wasn’t anyone else down here that I could see, probably because it was just as hot as in the City. I wasn’t paying attention to that though, really. My eyes were on the lavafall. It was getting closer, but I wasn’t slowing down. I sprinted past Cirrus, almost at the edge of the pool, almost there. For some reason, and I couldn’t explain it even now, I wanted to jump into the lava. Cannonball into the magma, like it was the fresh, clear water of Mystery Island. I was so close, one more step, and then—

      Arms were suddenly around me, holding me back.

      “Where do you think you’re going, Missy?” The owner of the arms roared, bringing me back to my senses. I had almost jumped into a pool of lava. Maybe the heat really was making me crazy.

      I looked up into the eyes of the massive Tonu in front of me, who was clearly a guard of some kind. He had a large spear in one hand, and he was dressed in heavy head-to-toe armour. He must have been dying in that hot, heavy outfit—that was my first thought.

      My second thought was that he was made of lava, just like the pool. His fur was like fire, and his eyes were glowing red. I had never seen anything like it. He was…magma.

      “Get out of here,” the guard demanded gruffly, shooing me off. “This is no place for unattended pets.”

      And with that he turned away, moving back to his post in the very front of the pool. I could hear the lava crackling and hissing, enticing me, calling me. I suddenly knew what had to be done.

      I raced back to my brothers, who had been watching the whole scene in awe, their mouths open and gaping. Crypsis looked terrified.

      “Cadberry,” he said, his voice painted with worry, “what were you thinking? It looked like you were going to jump!”

      I glanced back over my shoulder at the guard, who was watching us with his scary, piercing eyes. He was too far away to hear us.

      “I know, look. Listen. That guard, when he grabbed me, he wasn’t hot! He wasn’t even sweaty or anything. He is standing right next to that pool, all day, okay, in that armour and everything, and he is fine. He’s fine!”

      My brothers looked at me like I was crazy, which. Yeah. It was a possibility. Because the next words out of my mouth were, “I’ve got to get in that pool.”

      Cirrus slapped me on the head, hard. “Snap out of it, Caddy. We should go and get you some water or something. You should lie down.”

      “I’m not crazy!” I said, a little crazily. “If I jump in the lava, I’ll be like him. I’m sure of it. I won’t be hot and melty anymore, because I’ll be better adapted. Like how Christmas pets have thicker fur and Maraquan ones can breathe underwater. Come on, Cirrus. I just know.”

      Cirrus started talking over me halfway through my explanation, and just like that we were arguing, voices raised and heated.

      “You don’t know what you’re talking about—“

      “—never listen to me! It was your idea to come here, and your idea to move in the first place, and—“

      “I’m older, so what I say goes! You know Shelly would—“

      “Guys! GUYS.”

      Crypsis was talking in a roaring whisper, grabbing both of us at once.

      “Guys, he’s asleep.”

      “What?” Cirrus and I said together, still glaring at one another. Crypsis nodded his head subtly to the left, and we all turned to look at the magma pool. Specifically, the guard in front of the magma pool. Who was fast, fast asleep.

      “How--?” Cirrus asked, puzzled.

      But I was already running, and no one could stop me this time.

      And that is how, on the 30th Day of Hiding, I ended up a little less melting chocolate and a little more molten lava. Forget the Pound—Shelly was going to drop me in the middle of the ocean and never look back. She was going to be furious. She was going to be irate. She was going to be a lot of adjectives for m-a-d mad.

      I don’t know why I was so drawn to the magma, but I am glad I was. The moment I dropped into the pool, I felt stronger, fiercer, more myself. Being chocolate never really suited me, anyhow. As my brothers were constantly reminding me, I am not the least bit sweet.

      But, I noted to myself as we walked back home, arm-in-arm-in-arm, I was feeling cool as a cucumber, not even a teensy, weensy, tiny, bit hot. Maybe I would like it in Moltara, after all.

      The End