by Amy Hopkins
One corner in particular drew Penny's eye. A cluster of artwork—photographs, paintings, and bright wooden carvings—depicted creatures from the Dreamtime stories. The centerpiece was an oil painting of a giant rainbow serpent basking by the side of a creek. The artist had done an excellent job of recreating the way the sunlight shimmered on bright scales and had somehow captured an element of intelligence in the glittering black eyes.
"It's beautiful," Penny whispered.
"It's my favorite piece."
Startled, Penny spun toward the voice. The gift shop attendee—at least, he was wearing a Flying Crow uniform—stared back at her, expressionless.
"It's very pretty. Have you ever seen one yourself?" Penny asked.
"Of course." The attendee turned to a nearby shelf and began tidying it. "There's one in the amphibian tank. You'll get to see that tomorrow. It's small, though. Not as majestic as that one."
"Right," Penny muttered. The thought of seeing another rainbow serpent unsettled her. Despite knowing that her presence here would ultimately protect animals being snatched up from the wild and sold on the black market, she wasn't entirely sure she could keep her mouth shut if there was another Boots here, trapped in a cage for the enjoyment of spectators. Of course, speaking up wasn't an option either. Not unless she wanted to blow the whole operation.
"I think it's time for lunch." Amelia grabbed Penny’s arm firmly and steered her out of the shop. "We'll come back and look at the pretty pictures later."
Once they were outside, Penny shot her a grateful grin. "That was intense," she admitted.
Amelia grimaced. "I could tell. Penny, you're going to have to do a better job of hiding your feelings. You looked like you were about to murder that poor guy!"
"As if he noticed," Penny scoffed. "The guy looked bored out of his brain."
"Shall we head to the restaurant?" Amelia flicked a glance at her watch. "The safety presentation starts in twenty minutes. If we get there early, we should be able to get a good seat."
Penny nodded and let Amelia guide her toward another building, this one set back amongst the trees and separated from the rest of the compound by a shallow, babbling brook. A fat green frog sat by the water, chuckling away.
"Is that frog laughing?" Amelia paused on the footbridge. "I mean, actually laughing? Like Boots does."
"It must be Tiddalik," Penny said in awe. "He's a Dreamtime legend, just like Boots. He drank all the water and created a big drought. It wasn't until another creature made him laugh that he opened his mouth and brought all the water back."
"An awful lot of your legends vomit water," Amelia said, screwing up her face.
Laughing, Penny continued toward the restaurant. “I dare you to complain about that in front of Boots.”
“She’s already drowned one pair of shoes. I’m not going to put another on the firing line.” Amelia paused. “Or is that watering line?” She shook the thought off and pushed open the restaurant door.
Penny inhaled the rich aroma that flooded out. “Coffee.”
“Definitely not a coffee line.” Amelia glanced at her friend. “Though I swear, given the chance, you’d have an IV of the stuff hooked up to you twenty-four seven.”
“And you wouldn’t?” Penny didn’t wait for an answer. Instead, she headed for the coffee machine in the corner. Rather than a push-button self-serve dispenser, a barista stood behind an expensive espresso machine.
Penny inhaled the aroma and smiled. “Now this is service. Can I grab a latte, please?”
“Make that two.” Amelia ignored Penny’s triumphant smirk. “Where’s this safety thing being held?”
The barista gestured over a cloud of steam, pointing toward the long table in the middle of the room. “They might be running a bit late,” she explained when the hiss of the milk frother ended. “Sam normally gives it, but he’s been called out to an emergency.”
“Right.” As Penny watched her coffee being poured, she briefly wondered if she had time to investigate that emergency.
Amelia nudged her elbow. “Come on, let's go sit down.”
“What about Sam?” Penny asked in a low voice. “What do you think he’s up to?”
“Probably tracking down someone’s lost luggage,” Amelia said firmly. “Even if we wanted to check it out, we have no idea where he is or how to get there, even if we did!”
“Fine.” Penny slid into a seat down one end of the banquet table and sipped her coffee. It was good. “I guess I can live with my curiosity unsated. My God, this coffee is amazing.”
“It’s probably that fancy stuff that gets pooped out by civet cats,” Amelia said with a bright grin. She giggled when Penny snorted, clutched her nose, and glared over her napkin. “Hey, it’s a thing! Probably not this thing, but it exists!”
“Way to ruin an amazing coffee,” Penny muttered. She took another tentative sip anyway. “You know what? I don’t care if it is cat crap coffee.” She jumped when someone appeared next to her.
The employee smiled sweetly. “Oh no, that’s not Kopi Luwak.”
“Kopi what?” Penny asked, confused for a moment. The woman next to her looked like Corey, their host. It wasn’t just her glossy black hair or dark skin. It was her eyes, deep brown and glittering with mischief. Maybe they’re siblings, Penny guessed. She was even more disconcerted by the woman’s name tag. Who’d name their kids Corey and Cora?
“Civet cat poop,” Cora clarified.
“Thank goodness.” Relieved, Penny sipped her drink again.
“It’s Wild Bat Geisha coffee. It’s processed by bats. Not cats.” Cora spun and strode off to a back room, leaving Penny to eye her latte with distaste.
“If you spit that out, I’m never taking you out in public again,” Amelia warned her.
Penny swallowed her mouthful with a hard gulp. “I noticed you’ve stopped drinking yours.”
“Penny, it was pooped out by bats,” Amelia hissed. “Of course I’m not drinking it. That’s disgusting!”
“What’s disgusting?” Red pulled a chair out next to Amelia. Before he sat, he took a long drink of the steaming hot coffee in his hands.
Penny tried not to let her horror show on her face. "You know that cat-poop coffee?"
Red nodded and took another sip.
"That's what you're drinking," Amelia said. "Well, it was crapped out by bats, not cats. Either way, you have poop in your mouth, Red. I'm never kissing you again."
Red made a point of continuing to drink his coffee. When he finally put it down, he chuckled. "Whoever told you that was pulling your leg. I watched the barista fill the grinder. They use the same cheap generic stuff we were drinking at the hotel."
"No way." Penny reached over and picked up Red's cup. She took a sip, then shuddered. "It doesn't taste remotely the same."
"Aye. It's the milk that makes the difference. Some fancy organic cold-pressed brew, with all the cream still in it." Red plucked his coffee cup back out of Penny's hands. "Had a good old chat with the coffee lad about it."
"Why would someone who works here tell us it was made from poop?" Penny looked around to see if she could spot the employee who had stopped by the table. There was no sign of her. "That's just mean!"
"Are you sure you're not having me on?" Red teased. "Maybe she was just trying to upsell the garbage coffee beans."
Amelia shrugged. She picked up her coffee cup, examining it through narrowed eyes, then took another tentative sip, closed her eyes, and whispered, "It's not poop. It's not poop."
"It's really not." Red seemed perplexed by the entire conversation. He looked around the rapidly filling restaurant, then waved a hand. "Cisco, can you help me convince the girls this coffee isn't made out of shite?"
Cisco ducked around a small cluster of guests and made his way over to the table. "I had one before, and it tastes fantastic! Don't you like it, Penny?"
"Never mind," Penny grumbled. "Hey, it's almost twelve. I wonder when the safety thing is going to start?"
<
br /> They didn't have to wait long. Three hostesses hurried out, none of them Cora, and distributed a stack of menus, setting one at each place at the table regardless of whether it had been taken. By the time they were done, most of the seats had been filled.
A well-dressed woman walked to the head of the table, stood behind a chair, and clinked a spoon on a glass. Her simple white blouse and green slacks looked well-made but not ostentatious.
"Welcome, guests." She beamed a sunny smile at those watching. "We'll try to keep this short. It's terribly boring, and I'm sure you're all itching to get to the fun stuff." There was a smattering of laughter at that. "My name is Sophie, and I'll be presenting the safety briefing for you today. Normally, Sam would be giving this presentation. Unfortunately, he's been called away to an emergency. You see, many of the creatures you will come across on our property—real or mythological—have been rescued. Some were bought off the black market to keep them out of the hands of poachers who would harvest the creatures for their skin and bones. Some were found in areas they were simply not designed to live in. Others came to us injured and required treatment in our state-of-the-art treatment center for wild Mythers. Once rehabilitated, we do our best to find homes for those creatures in their natural habitat."
She paused, growing somber. "Sadly, that's not always possible. In the case of highly-sought-after creatures, it's often too dangerous for them to be out in the wild, unprotected. That's why we exist."
"Is that why you don't sell dragon’s balls in the gift shop?" one of the guests called, laughing.
Sophie smiled gently. "You certainly won't find any animal parts for sale here. On the rare occasion that we are unable to save one of our emergency rescues, the body is cremated. The Flying Crow Eco Refuge will never take part in anything that could bring these creatures danger."
"You said you bought them on the black market, though?" Penny's voice cut through the approving mutters of her fellow guests. "Isn't that just encouraging more money to trade hands? Increasing demand?"
"In those cases, we don't operate alone," Sophie explained with a small smile. "The Australian Federal police are always informed. With our help, they have arrested and charged nine smugglers of mythical creatures in the last two years. Most are let back into the wild or returned to the tribes they were created by. My own people, the Uw Oykangand, reclaimed a Rainbow Serpent thanks to Sam’s hard work up here.”
Penny sat back in her seat, lips pursed. "Those guys have an answer for everything," she mumbled.
"Of course, there are risks that come with interacting with wild creatures. Whether they are real or mythological, it makes no difference." Sophie waited until she had everybody's full attention. "It is absolutely imperative that you obey all instructions given to you by your guides. When approaching fenced areas, do not attempt to climb over or push your fingers through the wire. Although our most dangerous creatures have been double-fenced, there is always a tiny risk our first layer of defense has been breached. We want you going home with all of your fingers and toes intact." She smiled brightly, but her tone made it clear that she was deadly serious. "There is signage around the property with more specific instructions. Anyone seen to be disobeying those will unfortunately have to be ejected from the property. There is to be absolutely no feeding of mythical creatures you encounter, or regular animals for that matter. Rest assured, each species you will encounter is being fed a highly specialized diet to keep them in the best of health. The only exception to that is within the designated area where hand feeding is allowed, and even then, please do not offer the creatures human food. You will be provided with bags of a special dietary mix that is suitable for the animals you will encounter."
The instructions were all sensible, the sort you are heard at any regular zoo. In fact, Penny had read most of them in the brochure during their earlier visit to Sydney Zoo.
"Curfew is seven PM," Sophie continued. "Don't worry, you won't be trapped in your tents. You may travel between the residential areas, the restaurant, and the other buildings, just not out into the refuge."
"I can't decide whether that's a sensible safety precaution or a sign that they've got something to hide after dark," Penny whispered to Amelia.
"And finally,” Sophie continued, “it is absolutely forbidden to take anything with you when you leave apart from what you brought in or purchased at the gift shop. The animals, Mythers, and even much of the flora here have been carefully selected to live in harmony. Though it may seem harmless to take a small souvenir, the risk of disease transmission or unintended harm coming to whatever you take is too high. As per your contract, all bags and belongings will be checked before you leave."
Sophie smiled again and spread her hands. "And that's it! See, I told you it wouldn't be too long, even though it was a little boring."
"When will we get to see the animals?" someone asked.
Before Sophie could answer, she was interrupted by another question. "Why isn't there any meat on this menu? I could murder a good steak."
Penny cringed, immediately recognizing Gerald's voice.
Sophie gave a winning grin at someone toward the front of the long table. Penny leaned forward and was just able to make out her father's profile.
"As we mentioned in the contract and all of our promotional materials and on the really big sign hanging at the front door, the Flying Crow restaurant provides meat-free meals to our patrons. Don't worry, we're not vegan. There's milk for your coffees, butter for your toast, and even ice cream for dessert." Sophie held up a hand to forestall the complaint Penny was sure was coming. "I highly suggest the Korean barbecue stir fry if you want a good, hearty meal. The tacos are delicious as well, and the vegetable pot pie should fill even the most discerning stomach. Any other questions?"
Penny couldn't hear her father's grumble, but she did hear Marge's sharp response. "Don't get your knickers in a twist now, Gerald. There's lots of nice food on this menu, and it’s only for a few days. You know the doctor said you should cut down on red meat. Well, now's your chance."
Penny sank her face into her hands, not for the first time on this trip. "Kill me now."
To Penny's shock, Gerald struck up a conversation with someone else about the menu. "How about you, Mr. Crenel? You look like a man who might enjoy a good rack of ribs."
"Absolutely,” Crenel agreed. “The barbecue stir fry does look tempting, though. Not too heavy for lunch, but tasty."
"Why is he sitting with my parents?" Penny hissed. "Bastard. I bet he's trying to get baby photos out of them. For leverage."
"I'm pretty sure it's illegal for an FBI agent to blackmail someone," Cisco pointed out. "But if he tries, I'll take him down for you. Just let me know where you want me to hide the body."
"You're not getting your hands on those damn photos either," Penny said, jabbing a finger toward Cisco.
Cisco shrugged. "It was worth a try."
Chapter Thirteen
The first tour offered by the Flying Crow Refuge was that afternoon. The guide Benny was an Islander man in bright orange board shorts and a shirt dot-painted with a colorful frog. After introducing himself, he led the group of interested guests toward what looked like the stretch limousines of golf carts.
"Sorry ’bout the weather, folks." Benny pointed at the roiling clouds in the sky. "Our transport might be covered, but you’re gonna get wet if it rains. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!"
"How does this thing run?" Cisco asked. He slipped into a seat next to Penny. Red and Amelia crammed in after him, squashing the four of them in tightly. "I hope we're not going around any sharp corners. The damn thing might snap in half."
Despite Cisco's misgivings, the vehicle ambled along without any trouble. They took a route that wove into the rainforest, bumping over tree roots and winding around gentle curves as Benny rambled on like any good tour guide would. He pointed out vibrant lorikeets flitting among the treetops and slowed the vehicle right down so that everyone had a chance to see the
brilliant green python lazily wrapped around a tree branch. What really piqued Penny's interest, though, was when they trundled over the log bridge that spanned a gently flowing creek. The vehicle stopped, the gently idling engine drowned out by squawking birds and bubbling water. Penny reached out of the cart to feel the mist rising from the water, only to realize it was coming from above. It had started to rain.
"How many of you know the story of Tiddilik?" Benny’s voice carried easily over the ambient noises of the rainforest.
He told the story Penny was already vaguely familiar with. She, along with most other Australian schoolkids, had learned the story in her younger grades. When the native Australian man told it, however, Penny felt like she could see it unfold before her very eyes. Benny’s tale was rich and detailed in a way that Penny had never heard it before. Makes sense, she mused. They only taught the kid’s version in school. As she lost herself to the story, her eyes drifted to the water below. She blinked when a tiny, vibrant flash of rainbow streaked through the water.
"Did you see that?" she asked Cisco.
He tore his eyes away from the trees. "The giant frog? I swear, I almost could. This guy tells one hell of a story!"
Penny watched the water carefully, but whatever she had seen, it didn't come back. It must've been a trick of the light.
Benny finished the tale of Tiddilik and the long cart lurched into motion again. They stopped twice more, once by a cave filled with ancient paintings, and once at an outcropping that looked down into a ravine. Both times, Benny told stories from the first of the generations that had lived in the area. He painted a rich picture of life before technology, of oral traditions passed down by the fire and history recorded with burnt sticks on stone walls.
The second story he told was a more recent one from Australia's past. Benny sang Waltzing Matilda in a soft and haunting voice, explaining the story behind it.
"Do you mean to tell me," Amelia asked Penny, "that Australian kids sing nursery rhymes about the suicide of a sheep thief?"