Curtis James is a treasure hunter. He is small, brave, and very careful. He likes shiny things. He likes to say, “Slow steps. Bright eyes.”
Today Curtis James stands at a cave. The cave mouth is dark. Drip, drip goes water. The air is cool.
A blacksmith comes with him. Her name is Mara. Mara is strong and kind. She has a hammer and a warm lantern. She smiles. “I make tools,” she says. “You find treasure.”
Curtis James nods. “Team,” he whispers.
They walk in. Tap, tap go their boots. The lantern makes a soft circle of light.
In the cave, they see old marks on the wall. Lines like a map. Curtis James points. “Treasure,” he says.
But then—footsteps! Stomp, stomp.
A bandit jumps out. He has a big bag and a sneaky grin. “Mine!” he says. He tries to grab the lantern.
Mara holds it high. “No,” she says, calm and firm.
Curtis James feels a little shake in his tummy. He is scared, but he stays brave. He takes a deep breath. “Slow steps. Bright eyes,” he says again.
The bandit runs deeper into the cave. Curtis James and Mara follow, not fast, not loud. Quiet like mice.
They come to a fork. Two tunnels. One smells like wet stone. One smells like old smoke.
Curtis James listens. Drip, drip on the left. On the right… a tiny clink! Like metal.
“Right,” Curtis James says.
They turn right. The tunnel gets narrow. Mara taps the wall with her hammer. “Safe,” she says. “Strong rock.”
Then the bandit trips. Thump! His bag spills. Not treasure—just noisy junk: bottle caps, bent spoons, a squeaky toy.
The squeaky toy squeaks. Squeak!
Curtis James giggles. Even Mara laughs. The bandit frowns. “Hmph.”
Ahead is a stone door with a round hole. The bandit pushes and pushes. It will not open.
Curtis James looks close. He sees a picture: a circle, a square, a triangle.
Mara rummages in her pocket. She pulls out three metal shapes she made for practice. “I forge little things,” she says.
Curtis James claps. “Circle, square, triangle!”
Together they place the shapes. Click. Clack. The stone door slides open.
Behind it, the cave shines. Glitter on the ground. A chest sits on a flat rock.
The bandit lunges. “Mine!”
But Mara steps in front. She is not mean. She is fair. “We share,” she says.
Curtis James opens the chest slowly. Inside are gold coins and bright gems. And one small crown, just Curtis size.
Curtis James gasps. “Wow.”
He takes the crown. It is light and sparkly. He puts it on.
The bandit’s eyes go soft. He looks at the squeaky toy on the floor. He picks it up and squeaks it. Squeak!
Curtis James offers him one gem. “One,” he says. “For being quiet now.”
The bandit nods. “Okay,” he whispers.
Mara takes a few coins for her workshop. “For good tools,” she says.
They walk out of the cave. The sun is warm. Curtis James holds the chest handle with Mara.
Curtis James smiles big. “Team,” he says.
And his crown twinkles all the way home.