by Tracey Hecht
“You’re right,” whispered Polyphema. “I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.”
Dawn nodded, then she lowered her snout toward the hatchlings. They remained huddled close to their mother, nestling against her scales. “You will not go extinct,” said the fox.
The tuatara swallowed hard, struggling to hold back her tears. “What about when I’m no longer here to watch over them?” she asked.
“We will keep them safe,” Dawn assured her. “You have my word.”
The tuatara gratefully bowed her head. Her third eye had stopped moving and retreated back in its lid, as though it were finally at rest. A moment of peaceful silence fell over them, and then—
“Golly gee!”
The animals spun toward the scratchy, familiar voice that rung from the side of the mountain. Otto’s sideways head peered past its jutting edge.
“You can come out Otto,” said Dawn. She smiled at the kooky, cockeyed owl. “It’s safe now. Safe for everyone.”
“Oh…but what about Polyphema?” asked Otto, still shielded by the stone edge.
“It’s safe,” Dawn repeated. “I promise. Come on over. Polyphema has something to tell you.”
“Oh Golly. Golly gee whiz.” Nervously, Otto teetered toward the group.
Polyphema swallowed hard and tilted her head sideways to gaze into Otto’s golden eyes. Then, slowly, she stepped back to reveal her three, tiny children. “I want you to meet my new babies,” she said. “And I want to apologize—to you and your kind. I tried to protect my eggs, but I only succeeded in hurting animals I should have trusted.” She paused. “Otto,” she started, “I’m so sorry.”
“Golly, Poly…” breathed Otto. The owl’s eyes shifted from Polyphema to the three newborn babies gathered close by. Gradually, his gaze softened and his tattered feathers relaxed. “I…well, gee whiz.”
“Gee whiz?” echoed Bismark. “Don’t you mean three whiz? Meet my new niece and nephews! But you better not teach them that ‘golly gee’ habit of yours. I intend for my little Pollies to speak all the languages under the stars as clearly as a moonlit night.”
Otto took a few hops closer to the three babies. He lowered his beak and nuzzled them gently. “Well, hiya, there little guys,” he said.
Still anxious for the owl’s forgiveness, the tuatara shifted her weight and nervously looked at Otto.
“Oh, golly gee,” he uttered, meeting the reptile’s gaze. “Of course I accept your apology. What cute little kiddies you’ve got, Poly!”
The tuatara exhaled a sigh of relief and gratefully bowed to the owl. “We will always remember your kindness.”
Feeling a deep peace at last, Dawn gazed upon the horizon. A new, glowing moon had climbed into the deep, blue sky. “Come on,” the fox said with a smile. “Let’s go home. All of us.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
LEGACY
“Goodbye, fort!” Bismark called, glancing back over his shoulder. “Hasta luego, volcano! Adios big, bad beast!”
As the rest of the group passed the crater, the sugar glider stepped to its edge and eyed the fossil one final time. “Hmm,” he mused, cupping his chin in his palm. “No offense, Tutu…but your ancestors weren’t exactly the smartest.”
Polyphema paused in her tracks, confused. The three babies were clustered tightly on her back, nodding off as she walked.
“I mean, what kind of fool wants his legacy down here below ground? How shortsighted, silly, stupide!” Bismark threw up his flaps, then looked back toward the volcano. His bulbous, brown eyes lit with an idea. “Now that’s more like it,” he said. “Take note, everyone! Listen up!”
The animals turned toward the glider.
“When it’s time for my fossil—my handsome, forevermore print on this earth—I want it placed above ground, capiche? Up on the tallest of peaks, for all the world to see and admire!”
Tobin giggled and covered his snout with his claw. Even Dawn cracked a grin.
“What’s so funny, amigos? I’m sure we can find some space on the mountain for your fossils, too. Under mine, for example.”
Quickly, Bismark scurried toward the fox and the pangolin and wedged his way in between them. “Now let’s get back to the valley and get some beauty rest! This fur isn’t going to regrow itself! You know, Tutu, I’m not so sure I’ve forgiven you for that part of our little adventure.” His tail swished over his bare bottom.
Polyphema grinned. Her three young ones were fast asleep. “Personally, Bismark, I think the new bald spot suits you,” she said. “It even matches the one on your head.”
“Quoi? That is ridiculo! Who has ever heard such terrible fashion advice?” the glider scoffed. But then he paused. “What say you, mi bella Dawn? Does Poly-poo have a point?”
The fox raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to reply, but then she caught Polyphema’s glance and winked. “Sure, Bismark. Very handsome. Don’t you like his new look, Tobin?”
“Oh goodness!” Tobin laughed. “Oh, yes, definitely. Bismark, you look wonderful.”
“Well, scaly chap, I’m not used to taking style advice from a stink-butt. But if mi bella says it looks ‘handsome’…” The sugar glider leaped in the air, spread his flaps wide, and spun to show off his bare backside. The three others politely averted their eyes.
“Let it be known!” declared Bismark. “Whoever is in charge of designing my fossil, remember this, and remember it well: when it comes time to imprint my immortal form, make sure that my bottom matches my top!”
Satisfied with his decision, the sugar glider scurried between Dawn and Tobin and wrapped a flap around each. Then, side by side, surrounded by old friends and new, the Brigade followed the full moon toward home.
The Adventures Continue in March 2017
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Acknowledgements
by Sarah Fieber, head writer of The Ominous Eye
First and foremost, to Tracey Hecht: the creator of this series, my boss, and my friend. Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to do what I love everyday. I can’t imagine my career or my world without you.
To Tommy Fagin and Rumur Dowling, my fellow writers. Tommy: thank you for being there from the very beginning, for sticking by me through thick and thin, and for your invaluable edits. Rumur: thank you for your feedback at every odd hour, for making me laugh through the stress and fatigue, and for your incredible help. I couldn’t have done this without your friendship and support.
To Susan Lurie, for her rounds of thorough edits (and necessary leveling!). To the wonderful team at Consortium. To Stacey Ashton and everyone at Fabled Films: Lisette Farah, Nicole Wheeler, Waymond Singleton, Nina Passero, Joe Gervasi. Thank you for keeping things running and for making it fun. To Bailey Carr, who animates the words with her readings. To Kate Liebman, who brings the writing to life with her beautiful illustrations.
To everyone outside the office. To Aaron: for your interest, your feedback, and your animal expertise. Without you, there’d be no Tutu! To my unofficial editor, Ryan. To my lifelines: Sam and Savit. To all my incredible friends.
To my family. My brothers: Brian, Greg, and Daniel. My grandparents: Nana and Gramps, Grammy and Poppy. And my parents. Mom, Dad: I write words for a living, but I can’t find ones that express what your support means to me. Thank you for everything.
And finally, of course, to Beau: my happiness and inspiration.
Thank you again, everyone.
About the Author
Tracey Hecht is a writer and entrepreneur who has written, directed and produced several films and founded multiple businesses. Her company Fabled Films is releasing The Nocturnals.
About the Illustrator
Kate Liebman is an artist who lives and works in New York City. She graduated from Yale University, contributes to the
Brooklyn Rail, and has shown her work at various galleries.
About Fabled Films
Fabled Films is a publishing and entertainment company creating original content for middle grade and Y/A audiences. Fabled Films Press combines strong literary properties with high quality production values to connect books with generations of parents and their children. Each property is supported with additional content in the form of animated web series and social media as well as websites featuring activities for children, parents, bookstores, educators and librarians.
www.fabledfilms.com