Arrow huddled on the branch, his right hand holding on to the tree limb as his arrow arm shielded his eyes against the wind and dust. Finally the bullfrog’s arms stopped spinning, and the forest fell silent.
The metal bullfrog had settled west of the bird’s carcass. Piles of ash and leaves rested around its feet and at the edges of the clearing.
Voices drifted up to Arrow, then a head poked out the side of the frog’s belly. It was difficult to tell if it was the Kiskadee Man. It disappeared, then another came, this time followed by a body. It jumped onto the ground, and Arrow squeezed the branch. He knew this one was different. It was a woman, tall and skinny like a walking anaconda. She had something black and shiny slung over her back. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t place why. A man came out next, thick and short with a head as bald as a pink dolphin. Then another man, taller than the woman, and wider, too. He had the eyes of a jaguar.
Finally another man descended. His shirt was the color of a tupi bird instead of a kiskadee’s belly, but Arrow still recognized the man who had fallen from the metal bird. The man he had given fruit.
Arrow sucked in a breath.
The Anaconda Woman heaved a box out of the frog’s belly, then another, helped by the Jaguar Man. The Dolphin Man strode to the burnt carcass, then around the clearing, eyes out among the trees, looking, watching, anticipating. The humans talked among themselves, but Arrow couldn’t hear them clearly, just the occasional word.
“Hand…”
“Lift…”
“Here…”
The Anaconda Woman and Jaguar Man unpacked a large swath of material as green as my leaves. They hoisted it up on poles under the long arms of the frog. A green roof for an open hut.
This new herd and their flying machines were here to stay.
Arrow remained in that tree for most of the day, watching the machiners. Metal was taken out of the boxes, pieces clamped together to construct other items. A table was set up under the green roof, things pulled from boxes and laid out neatly. These grown humans talked and laughed and jostled each other in a friendly way.
As the sun began its final drop, Arrow climbed down from the branch, feet skipping over the bark as his right hand and the elbow of his arrow arm levered him from tree limb to tree limb. But when he got to the bottom, his footsteps froze. Why wasn’t he moving? I hoped he hadn’t been seen. But when I received the view from the monkeys, I knew exactly why Arrow had stopped.
All around the Burnt Circle were domes—and they were glowing.
They didn’t look like any flower or fungi I knew, but they glowed with the Anima all the same.
I reached out through the root network but couldn’t feel anything new. The domes could be in the soil but not connected to other roots yet.
The biggest question was: How had they found that much magic?
Arrow must’ve been thinking the same thing. While most of the machiners investigated the carcass of the metal bird, pulling out anything salvageable, Arrow hid behind a wide ficus tree and peered at the domes.
“Stop!”
Arrow froze, fear drilling into the tree. After a few breaths, he chanced a glance around the trunk at the machiners.
They were gathered near the metal bird. The Kiskadee Man was crouched at its base, pointing at the wound Arrow had plugged. He leaned forward and plucked the golden disc from the hole. Rolling it over in his fingers, he smiled slightly.
“This is leaking oil.” He nodded toward the Anaconda Woman. “Wiser, come and have a look. It’s spread all over here. We need to clean this up. We can’t have anything dangerous.”
The Anaconda Woman, Wiser, hurried over. “Fratos, you got the tools out yet?”
“Yep, I’ll bring them over. Give me a hand, Mora.” The Dolphin Man, Fratos, strode to the green roof, followed by the Jaguar Man, Mora. They opened boxes and pulled out things I’d never seen before. Some were small enough to be held in a palm; others unfolded to be longer than an arm; others wrapped around their backs and seemed to make them stronger. Bit by bit, the machiners dismantled what was left of the bird’s metal skin and innards, placing it all in the belly of the bullfrog. Then Mora carried a giant spoon to the rainbow-colored stain, scooped up the tinged soil, and placed it into a large box.
“Got all of it?” the Kiskadee Man asked, leaning over the area to inspect the work.
“As much as I can,” Mora said. “But there are probably traces in the soil. It’s hard to say how far it’s spread.”
“Okay. Great job.” The Kiskadee Man patted Mora on his shoulder, then gazed out at the trees. “We need to take care of this place like it’s a jewel.”
Watching from behind the tree, Arrow smiled, and I had to admit, this pleased me, too. I didn’t know if I could hope for help from these older humans. Children were usually the more trustworthy ones. But so far, these adults seemed more promising than the herd. Perhaps Arrow was right and it was only the adult Forest Dwellers who could work with the Anima. Perhaps we did need the Kiskadee Man after all.
The Kiskadee Man pulled the golden disc from his pocket, rubbing his fingers on its surface just like Arrow had done. Gazing out into the trees, he narrowed his eyes. Was he hoping to get a glimpse of the boy? This man was wise. He knew someone had helped him all those moons ago, and he knew someone had stuck that disc to the carcass to stop the bleeding.
True to his word, Arrow didn’t show himself. He flattened his body against the backside of the ficus, still as a gecko waiting for a fly.
The Kiskadee Man pursed his lips, whistling a pretty tune. He paused, listened, waited. A few breaths, then the birds picked up his song, playing it back to him. The Kiskadee Man smiled. Slipping the disc back into his pocket, he turned away from the tree line and strode under the green roof. “Splendid. Let’s make camp.”
Arrow released the breath he had been holding, then quickly ran to the kapok tree. He grabbed a vine that was hanging down, held it tight to his chest with his arrow arm, and pulled with his right hand as his feet climbed up the trunk. He got his hemp rope in place, then launched along the liana back home.
“Did you see them? Did you see?” Arrow’s words came quickly when he was close. “Did you see the glowing lights? Did you see the magic?”
“Yes,” I said. “But I can’t feel any more Anima than before. I don’t know where they’re pulling it from.”
“I don’t know, but it was strong. Maybe they brought it from the Stilts, just like I thought.” Arrow panted a little, running up to my trunk. “We’re saved.”
“We’re not saved yet, Arrow.” Although the lights did give me hope.
“The Kiskadee Man is nice, too. He cleaned up all the rainbow liquid. He called it, ‘oil.’ Oil,” he said again, letting the word roll over his tongue. “He said the forest was a jewel that had to be protected.”
“I heard.”
His excitement streamed off him as Arrow pulled himself into my branches. His grin was even bigger.
“You think he will help us?” I asked.
Arrow nodded. “He’ll help. I saved his life. Remember?”
“That you did.” Perhaps this boy’s kind heart would save us after all.
“How’s Curly?”
The monkey peered over the side of the nest when she heard her name. Seeing Arrow, she chittered happily.
“Getting better,” I said, as Arrow climbed into the nest beside Curly.
“Let me see.” He lifted her paw. It was healing nicely, and to prove it, Curly clapped her paws together gently, then swung around the branch above him with her tail. Arrow laughed and leaned back.
“Everything’s going to be all right, Guardian. You’ll see. The Kiskadee Man likes the forest. He’s brought the magic from the Stilts. I’ll get him to show me how to access it. Soon everything will be back to normal, and you can put up an even bigger curtain to keep out all the rest of the humans.”
His voice was light, yet as he talked of shutting out the humans, a drop of sadne
ss fell onto the nest. He liked having more of his kind in his home, but the herd had hurt him. His feelings wove around one another into a confused knot that he tried to push away.
I understood well. I missed the Forest Dwellers, but the actions of the Imposters were still burned into my roots.
Arrow hadn’t been alive when the Imposters had come. He hadn’t seen the forest before, or the forest after. He hadn’t felt the hurt. When he’d cried at the base of the curtain, I had hoped that a baby, one so young, could be brought up to be like the Forest Dwellers and leave the ways of the Imposters behind. He was exactly as I had hoped, with a kinder heart than I had seen from a human in many rings.
But these new humans, they had grown up in the outside world, just like the Imposters. The young herd had turned out to be as uncaring as I had expected. Could Arrow be right about these older ones?
Whether I trusted or not, we were running out of time. The forest was dying, and without help to build the Anima, I feared that we would not survive. Maybe this Kiskadee Man was our last hope.
18
THE PETALS ON THE ORCHIDS NEAR SHIMMER CAVE WITHERED, THEN DIED. THE EUGLOSSA BEES THAT NEEDED THE SCENT OF THE ORCHIDS LEFT TO FIND OTHERS. THEN THE NUTS ON THE LARGE BRAZIL NUT TREE THERE, WHICH NEEDED THE BEES FOR POLLINATION, STOPPED PRODUCING SEEDS.
As soon as the sun peeked above the horizon the next day, Arrow said goodbye to me and Curly, much to the monkey’s protests, and journeyed south back to the Burnt Circle. He was hidden behind a wide ficus near the clearing before the machiners were awake.
The glowing domes were gone now, but Arrow peered around, hoping to spy them. Soon his attention was pulled away as the humans woke and crawled out of the fabric huts they had erected the night before. They stretched, talked, and ate food from their boxes.
Wiser seemed to be the leader. She barked out orders that Mora and Fratos followed with a “Yes, Wiser.” They sorted through boxes, pulling out small items that I couldn’t identify from the blurry images I received from the butterflies. The task kept the humans busy, and they didn’t notice when the Kiskadee Man wandered into the trees.
He was cautious, watchful. He eyed the trees and bushes, glanced back often to look at his companions. Each time, he must’ve felt satisfied, because he stepped, stepped, stepped farther into the forest.
I sucked air into my leaves. He was heading right to where Arrow was hiding. I hoped the boy wouldn’t be caught.
The man’s hands were clasped around tiny clear tubes. He reached down and collected soil in one, then pulled a pen from a pocket on his chest and scratched on the tube like Petari had done in her notebook. After tucking the tube away, he collected leaves, then different leaves.
He had become so engrossed in his work, he did not notice Arrow as the boy skipped behind a closer trunk. I saw it, though, and fear raked through my roots.
But Arrow didn’t show himself, just observed as the man moved from plant to plant, inspecting the leaves, the bark, the moss.
Until the man reached out to pluck an oval leaf.
“Don’t touch that,” Arrow said, stepping out from his hiding place.
My roots froze. I had wanted more time to watch these humans, and yet here was Arrow risking his own life to save the man again. I hoped the Kiskadee Man knew the gift he was being given.
He jumped, then narrowed his eyes at Arrow.
Arrow was still a distance away, but he was in sight, not in shadow. The man had seen the boy; the faster pitter-patter of his heart let me know.
“Those leaves will hurt you,” Arrow said. “They’ve got hairs that’ll put poison into your hand. It’s very painful.”
The man nodded in appreciation. “I definitely don’t want that. Thank you.”
A noise from the Burnt Circle drew their attention, and the man glanced back, but the other machiners were still paying him no mind. He didn’t call for them. Instead he returned his gaze to Arrow.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” the Kiskadee Man said. “You’re the one I saw, the kid who helped me.”
The man stepped forward as he pulled the golden disc out of his pocket. “Ingenious using this to stop the leak. Did you think of that, or was it your parents?” He glanced behind Arrow as though looking for more humans.
“It was me,” Arrow said quietly.
The Kiskadee Man smiled slightly as he took another step toward Arrow. “You’re very smart. And lucky for me you are. I’ve been trying to get back to this place for days but couldn’t find it. It’s the strangest thing. This whole area looks like a mountain from up there.” He pointed to the sky. “We flew around and around but couldn’t see where I’d crashed at all. I knew I hadn’t crashed into a mountain. Then finally the signal from this disc pinged back to life. And we found the site. It probably turned on when you attached it to my plane. It needed the metal on metal to give it some juice.” The man gave Arrow a big smile. “I owe you a big debt, little man. Thank you.”
Arrow frowned at the disc like he wasn’t sure how something so small could be a guide to such a large metal bullfrog.
“It’s strange that you can’t see the mountain range from down here,” the man continued, gazing up at the canopy.
The Kiskadee Man stepped closer again, but Arrow kept an arm’s length away. He studied the man’s chiseled face.
“Of course, I owe you from before, too. You saved my life.” The man lifted the bottom of the blue fabric on his leg, revealing the splotches of scabs and burnt pink skin. “It’s healing up nicely. I can’t walk as fast as I used to, and it still hurts, but I’m alive. Thanks to you. You just keep saving me. I think that makes you my hero.”
Arrow smiled.
“Would you like to keep it?” the man asked, holding out the disc. “A gift to show my thanks.”
Arrow shook his head.
“Don’t worry. We’ve got others set up around here now. We’ll never lose this place again.” He winked, a sparkle glinting from his eye.
Arrow gaped at him. Perhaps he was wondering whether the machiners’ never losing the forest would be good or bad. I definitely was.
Finally the Kiskadee Man put the disc back into his pocket. “You must live here,” the man said. “With your family? A community? Got any brothers and sisters?” He smiled big, showing off large white teeth.
Arrow frowned. He was no doubt remembering the questions from the herd and their reaction when they’d heard about me. Arrow didn’t answer this time. Good boy.
“Ah well, I hope your family doesn’t mind that you’re helping me. They’re lucky to have a boy like you.”
A sliver of warm happiness slipped from Arrow’s soles. This human was nicer than the herd.
“What’s your name?” the man asked.
“Arrow,” he said slowly.
“Arrow. That’s a splendid name. A strong name.” He glanced at my boy’s arrow arm, then smiled. “An apropos name for you.”
Arrow’s happiness grew. He didn’t know all these words, but the man hadn’t judged Arrow because he was different, like the herd had.
“My name is Crankas. Bosono Crankas, but everyone just calls me Crankas.”
“What does that mean?” Arrow asked, which brought a laugh from the man.
“Absolutely nothing.” The man leaned in, but not too close. “You know something? Ever since you helped me, I’ve been dreaming of those fruits you left.”
“The mangoes?”
The man nodded.
“And bananas? And acai berries?”
“Yes, yes.” The man’s eyes lit up. “Do you think you could show me where I could find some more? It was the best food I’ve ever eaten.”
“I can get you more.” Arrow straightened.
“Would you take me? I’d love to see where it is for myself.”
Arrow peeked around Crankas at the other humans. They were still sorting through their boxes.
“Don’t worry about them,” Crankas said. “They’ll be busy for hours.”
/> Arrow nodded but still didn’t move. He was being cautious after the actions of the herd. Good. “You won’t harm the forest, will you?”
Crankas let out a small laugh. “Harm it? It’s the most wonderful place I’ve ever seen. Why would I want to harm it?”
His words sounded sweet, and I hoped they were real. Arrow seemed to think they were. He smiled and said, “This way.”
He led the man through the forest, pointing to the best foods. Like he had with Petari, he warned about the caimans and the jaguars and the anacondas, and he showed the man where the birds liked to nest, where the grubs sifted the soil, and where the sloths hung around. He wanted the man to like him.
The Kiskadee Man was a patient and rapt student, slower than Petari but just as enthusiastic. He put more samples into his small clear tubes. And he carefully marked the trees along every trail with a line he drew quickly across the trunks. He put corresponding markings on a small rectangle he pulled from his pocket, which he told Arrow would make a “map.”
Arrow didn’t ask about the magic, but as they walked back toward the Burnt Circle, fruit and nuts in their arms, the boy asked, “Do you like the forest?”
“Very much,” Crankas said. “I haven’t seen something this beautiful since I met my wife.” He winked at Arrow. The boy wouldn’t know what the word meant, but he didn’t let it stop him.
“Good,” Arrow said, halting before they got too close to the clearing. “Then you want to protect it, right?”
Crankas nodded. “Absolutely. A place this wonderful should be protected.”
A twig snap startled Arrow.
Wiser strode into their space. I had felt her footsteps coming and wished I could have warned Arrow.
“What have we here?”
Arrow stiffened. But this woman with her big stride and strong arms had a warm smile, and it drew the boy in.
“Wiser, this is Arrow. Arrow, this is Wiser. She’s the wisest person I know, so she takes after her name, like you.”
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