by Tracey Hecht
Chapter Twenty-Four
DOWN, DOWN, DOWN. . .
The afternoon air filled with the screams and squawks of the horrified animals.
“But why?” they cried. “Why would you do this to us?”
Polyphema took a step back.
“Yes, why?” asked Tobin, shaking his snout in dismay. “Oh goodness, what do we do with Polyphema now?”
“Nothing—” started the fox.
“Nothing? Nada? Zilch?” Bismark cut off his friend and raised his flaps in disbelief. “This traitorous Tutu must pay!”
“Nothing yet,” finished Dawn. “First, we’re going to find out what’s in that fortress.”
“NO!” The tuatara released a terrified scream. “I mean…no.” Though she lowered her voice, it still rattled with panic. “That’s not necessary. There’s nothing else to see. I confess! It was me—I am the beast!” Polyphema hurried forward and bowed before the Brigade. “Take me away,” she urged. The tuatara shot a quick, nervous glance over her shoulder at the fortress. “Now!”
“Not until we see what you’re hiding,” said Dawn.
As the fox brushed past the reptile, Polyphema began to shudder. But then, so did the ground.
“Oh no!” Tobin gasped. Rocks and pebbles trembled near his paws. “The beast is striking again!”
The other animals cried out, too. “The beast! The beast!”
“He’s back!”
“Run away!”
“Ha! Silly animals….” Bismark chuckled. “You’re forgetting what you just learned! Polyphema just told us there is no beast.” The earth lurched under Bismark’s feet, knocking him down to his rear. “But wait uno momento….” The sugar glider scratched his bald spot and swiveled toward Polyphema. “If there’s no big, bad beast—if all this was you…then how is the earth still shaking?”
The tuatara’s eyes darted from animal to animal as they closed in around her. “Okay…I’ll tell you,” she stammered. “But then you must leave my fortress alone.”
The earth gave a sharp jolt and the animals shrieked in terror.
“Oh goodness, the rumbling is growing stronger!” The pangolin tried to grip the earth with his claws. He looked pleadingly at Polyphema. “Please tell us what’s going on! Who’s doing this?”
“Tell us now,” growled Dawn. The fox snarled, baring her glistening, white fangs.
“It’s not a question of ‘who,’” said the tuatara. “The shaking isn’t from any animal. It’s from the earth itself. This peak—” the tuatara flicked her spiky head up, “—it’s no ordinary mountain. It’s a volcano.”
“A vol-what now?” asked the sugar glider. The ground shook yet again, and Bismark desperately clung to Dawn’s leg.
“It’s a mountain that opens down toward the earth’s core. When pressure builds up underground, it blows up. The land shakes, and rocks and smoke shoot through the air.”
The volcano grumbled and moaned. The animals looked up to see stone and ash burst from the mountain’s top.
“It’s true…” observed Tobin.
Polyphema nodded vigorously. “Yes, I’ve told you the truth. Now, even if just for your own sake, leave!”
The volcano rumbled again, spitting up more hot debris. Rocks began to tumble down the steep slopes.
“It’s too dangerous!” cried a kiwi. “Let’s go!”
“Run!” squealed the jerboas.
“Fly!” squawked the birds.
In a panicked swarm, the animals fled, fearing the exploding volcano.
“Come on!” shouted Bismark. “We gotta get out of here!” He tugged at the fox’s fur, but Dawn would not budge.
“Just a moment!” she said, shouting over the booms and the blasts. “You haven’t answered all of our questions!” The fox ducked, avoiding a falling stone. “What about the print in the crater? The shape of the giant beast?”
“Dawn, it’s too dangerous!” exclaimed Tobin. “We’ll find that out later—we have to leave!”
“My scaly amigo is right,” Bismark cried. “We need to get out of here, pronto. Never again shall I suffer such a devastating loss!” The sugar glider swiveled his tiny torso and eyed his bare bottom. Then he bolted toward the fortress and clambered up its stone wall. “To higher ground!”
“No, Bismark! Come down!” Tobin’s voice rang from below.
“Yes! Come down!” Dawn yelled to her friend. “It’s too dangerous up there. We must all stay together!”
“Together?” said Bismark. “You and moi?” The sugar glider raised his brows and clutched his paws to his heart. “Say no more, my sweet fox! I’d risk anything for you…even my beautiful fur. I shall fly to you, mon amour!”
Bismark beamed. Then, he extended his limbs and began to frantically flap and pump. “Arriba!” he squealed. “Watch me soar! A volcano is no match for true love.”
Anxiously, Tobin and Dawn observed their friend from below. For a few glorious moments, Bismark remained airborne over the tower. But his flaps were made for gliding on the wind, not for flying, and the sugar glider began to fall down, down, down—down into the hole at the top of the fortress, down into its depths.
Chapter Twenty-Five
LIFE AND DEATH
“Nooooo!” Polyphema screamed, then lunged, full-force, toward the fortress.
But Dawn quickly caught the end of the reptile’s tail and yanked it back hard. “You’re not going anywhere,” she growled.
“Release me!” screamed Polyphema. “Release me at once!”
Dawn held firm, and as she gripped the panicked tuatara, Tobin neared the fort. “Bismark!” he called through the wall. “Are you okay?”
“Oof.” The sugar glider opened his eyes and groaned. From his position flat on his back, he could see nothing but tall, dark, stone walls leading up to a small circle of sky.
“Bismark?” the pangolin repeated.
Slowly, the sugar glider rose to his feet. Though the earth had stopped shaking, he still felt off-balance and grabbed onto a rock for support. “D…Did you see that stunning…swan dive?” he called, struggling to speak. “Did you see me…soar?”
“Oh, Bismark, are you hurt?” Tobin asked. “That was a really long fall!”
“Pah! All part of the plan, mi amigo.” Bismark straightened up, but then winced at the pain in his back. “And, by the way, that was no fall! Did you not see my flaps? I flew my way down here…and with grace, I might add.”
“Then fly out, this instant!” cried Polyphema, still squirming under Dawn’s hold. “And do not touch anything! Do you hear me? Not a thing!” The tuatara’s shrill call pierced the air and echoed throughout the fortress.
“I heard you the first time!” said Bismark, covering his ears with his flaps. The sugar glider spun in a circle, taking in his surroundings. All he could see was dark stone and dirt. What was there to touch, anyway? “There’s nothing down here—nada! Zippo! Zero!”
Crack.
“Was that my creaky bones?” Bismark wondered when he heard the sharp sound. “I hope I didn’t fracture a flap.”
“Come on, Bismark,” Dawn urged, “look around! Now that you’re in there, you can find whatever she’s hiding.” Though her hold on Polyphema remained strong, Dawn’s paws were already growing tired.
The sugar glider paced around the interior of the fortress. It was small—only ten or so steps across. “No comprendo…” he murmured, confused. “What is Poly-poo so afraid of me touching? A little dirt?” Bismark scrunched his nose in disgust as he flicked a large clump off his shoulder.
Crack.
Bismark cocked his head. “That sound again?” The sugar glider looked left and right, but all he could see was the darkness. He shrugged. “I’m telling you, bella Dawn, the only thing down here is stone and dirt.”
Polyphema nodded vigorously. “Yes, that’s right, only dirt! Now get out of there before you ruin that nice fur of yours!”
“Mon dieu,” Bismark muttered, feeling the dirt caked between hi
s toes and in his ears. “Tutu is right—I’m going to need a new coat after this!”
The fox let out a grunt. The tuatara was wriggling and writhing, still attempting to escape her firm grasp. “It’s no use struggling,” said Dawn. But her grip was slipping. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this, once and for all. We’re going to see what you’re hiding.”
“My sweet, you know I hate to disappoint you, but I think Tutu might be right this time. Cuckoo…but correct,” Bismark said, squatting low to the ground. “There is nothing but filth and decay! I think it’s time I depart, mon amour.”
Crack!
“Waah!” Bismark leaped in the air and looked around once again. “Hello? Hola? Salut? Is something in here?” The sugar glider trembled as he extended his flaps and blindly groped through the dark. “Nada, again,” he sighed. But, still curious, Bismark explored the ground. Suddenly, he felt something. Something slimy and wet. “Blegh!” he cried.
“Oh goodness, what is it!” cried Tobin.
The sugar glider lifted the small, slippery creature. It writhed in his grip. “A worm!” he grimaced. “One of your favorites, amigo.” Setting the slimy thing free, Bismark plunged his paws back in the earth, continuing the search. But this time, he felt something beneath the dirt. Intrigued, he tore through the ground until he revealed three small, pale spheres. “What are these?” he mused, scratching the bald spot on his head.
“Did you find something?” called Dawn.
“No! Please!” Polyphema cried. She stopped struggling for a moment and choked back a sob. “Please, stop! Just stop!”
As Bismark tried to brush off the dirt, his eyes widened. “They shine in the light! Hmm…perhaps I can use them to see my reflection and clean myself up.” Holding one of the spheres in his paws, the sugar glider angled his body, hoping to view his backside. “Ugh,” he grunted. “I can’t see a thing through all of this grime! If I could just buff them up a bit….”
Bismark set the orb back down next to the other two. Then, perching over all three spheres, he extended his flaps and furiously began to polish and shine them.
“Just a moment, amigos! I’m just taking one last look around,” Bismark bluffed. He was still rubbing and shining the orbs. “There’s nothing here,” he said to himself, continuing to polish. “If I can’t find Tutu’s hidden treasure then, by the stars, at least I’ll come out looking my best!”
The sugar glider moved his flaps faster, struggling to make the spheres shine. “Almost… there…” he said breathlessly. “Almost—”
Crack!
Bismark froze.
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
The sound was sharper now. Louder.
“What’s going on?” Dawn asked urgently. Her ears pricked on end. “What’s that sound?”
The sugar glider gulped. “S…something is in here!”
“Oh goodness!” cried Tobin. “What is it?”
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
Bismark looked around frantically, but there was still nothing to see in the dark.
Crack!
Crack!
CRACK!
At this last loud, splitting crack, Bismark froze and his eyes bulged with horror. He felt something moving…right under his flaps.
Chapter Twenty-Six
UNCLE BISMARK
“Stop! Please! Get away!” Outside the walls, Polyphema lunged forward with the last ounce of her strength. Pressing her heels in the ground, Dawn pulled back…but her paws could no longer hold. The tuatara finally broke free and bolted full-speed toward the fortress.
“Get back here!” Dawn shouted. She raced after the tuatara. “Tobin, hurry! We’ll catch her before she climbs in!”
But the tuatara made no attempt to scale the fortress’s side. Instead, she tightened her jaw, lowered her skull, and barreled straight into its wall.
Crash!
Rocks tumbled down around her like rain and the fortress collapsed, a wave of ash in its wake.
“Bismark!” the pangolin cried.
Dawn and Tobin dashed forward through the shower of pebbles and dust. When the air cleared, the friends froze.
There, in the middle of the half-fallen fortress, Bismark stood over three, tiny, newborn tuataras, breaking free of their shiny, cracked orbs.
“Oh goodness! Bismark!” said Tobin, squeezing past a large rock. “You found—eggs!”
“Exactamente, mon ami! I found eggs! The beginnings of life! There was nothing to fear, scaly chum. No big, bad beast hidden in here. Just three mini-Tutus!”
“My babies!” Polyphema shouted. “Get away from my babies!” Sputtering and spitting out ash, the tuatara rose from the rubble and shoved Bismark aside. “Oh Lyla, oh Celtus, oh Galas! You’re finally here!” she cooed. “Are you okay? Are you scared? Are you hungry?”
“Wait a second, Tutu. Aren’t you forgetting something?” asked the sugar glider. “A gracias, a merci, a thank you? Uncle Bismark over here finished hatching those tykes with the heat of these very flaps!”
“Mommy?” peeped one of the hatchlings. “Mommy? Mommy?” echoed the other two.
“Yes!” cried Polyphema. A trickle of blood slowly seeped from just beside her third eye—a wound from her forceful crash into the fortress. Tears streamed down her face. “Yes, yes! I’m your mommy! Mommy’s here!”
The babies stared at Polyphema, their tiny eyes lost and confused. Then they looked up at Bismark. “Mommy!” they cried. Together, with outstretched claws and open mouths, the babies reached for the sugar glider. “Mommy, mommy!”
“Mon dieu!” Bismark cried. “I said ‘uncle,’ not ‘mama!’ This is all tutu much!”
“So this is what you’ve been hiding,” Dawn murmured, joining the group at the nest. She narrowed her eyes at the tuatara. “But why in here? Why all the lies and deceit?”
“Si! What’s with all the terror, the drama, the cuckoo craziness?” said Bismark. “Why all the hate for the birds, the forest flappers like moi?” The sugar glider attempted a glide, but the three newborn babies were fixed to him, clinging to his legs.
“This place was supposed to be safe,” began Polyphema. She eyed the remains of the fortress and shook her head. “But then this mountain—this volcano—erupted and blew off the tower’s top. My eggs were completely exposed from above! All my other children…all my other eggs…they were always eaten by birds!” The tuatara choked back a sob. “What else could I have done!?”
“Oh goodness! That’s terrible!” Tobin cried.
“Of course,” Dawn breathed. “‘Banish the birds.’ Banish your natural predators. And now we know why.”
Bismark placed his paws on his hips. “Wait, uno momento, Poly. Let me get this straight. You wanted to banish ALL flyers, even your trusty maestro, just to save a few of your own?”
“You don’t understand,” Polyphema protested. “I’m nearing the end of my life.” She bowed her head. In the slanted, pink light of the dusk, her skin’s creases appeared extra dark, extra deep. “These are my final hatchlings!” she cried.
“Oh no…” said Tobin.
“And I’m one of the last of my kind!” she continued. “Tuataras are severely endangered. I have to protect my babies… they’re my species’ only hope!” Polyphema gripped the toppled fortress rocks for support. “Do you want us to end up like that creature you saw in the bottom of that crater? Do you want us to end up extinct?”
Upon hearing this dreaded word, Tobin cowered, curling the end of his tail. Even Bismark stood in a rare, serious silence.
Dawn furrowed her brow. “The creature…” she started. “The beast…. Of course!” Her face brightened with understanding. “That shape in the crater—it’s a fossil!”
Tobin’s beady eyes grew wide. “A fossil?” he repeated.
“Not a skeletal fossil,” Dawn explained. “We’ve seen those before. We’ve seen enormous bones. This fossil is a different kind. It’s an
ancient mark of an animal’s activity, like walking or resting, captured in stone.”
Polyphema nodded. “Fossils like the one in that crater are all that is left of my ancestors. If it weren’t for these remains, they’d be forgotten in time and memory.”
“Wait a moment,” said Tobin, “I’ve heard of these large, extinct creatures.” The pangolin thoughtfully cocked his head. Then his scaly face lit up in awe. “Oh goodness!” he cried. “Are you related to—”
“Unbelievable! Incroyable! Insane!” Bismark leaped off the ground, eyes bulging. Tutu! You and your one-two-three mini-Tutus—you’re all the descendants of dinosaurs!”
“It’s true!” said the reptile. “I am what’s left of that ancient race of giants! We once roamed the earth as kings, and now we are forced to hide and cower in ruins.” Polyphema held up a fistful of the fortress’s crumbling dust. “After the volcano’s eruption uncovered the fossil, it was like a vision of the future. A vision of death. I had to do what I did. My species depended on it!”
“Oh goodness,” breathed Tobin. The pangolin scratched his scales, trying to take it all in. “So everything—building the net, banishing the birds, even injuring Otto—it was all to protect your family.”
Polyphema nodded in sorrow.
The three little hatchlings cocked their heads at the glassy-eyed tuatara. Then, slowly, they wobbled toward her and settled under her chest. Smiling through her tears, Polyphema drew them in close.
A warm, soft breeze filled the air, stirring the ash on the ground. For a moment, Polyphema and the Brigade thought about all that had happened between them since they’d first met by the crater.
“We all want to protect those we love,” Dawn whispered, gazing north, toward the brambles. For a moment, she stood in silence, as though traveling back to the past. Then she took a deep breath and turned back to the tuatara. “But no matter what,” she said, “we cannot let our fear control us. We must take responsibility for our actions, not invent some beast to take blame.”
The tuatara gazed up at the fox. For the first time without anger, the two females’ eyes met.