by Tracey Hecht
Dawn furrowed her brow. First, an unfamiliar poison, then the sudden disappearance of its cure? This seemed like more than a coincidence.
“Will you help us?” asked one of the bilbies, staring up at the fox. He held his stomach then squeezed his eyes tight, as if trying to shut out the pain.
“Of course we’ll help,” replied Dawn.
“Bien sûr!” echoed Bismark.
Tobin nodded as well. But then he paused. Before they set out, should he tell his friends about tasting the pomelo? He glanced down at his stomach. It hadn’t grown larger. No, he decided, quickly dismissing the thought. He’d barely tasted the fruit. He had nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
Chapter Nine
BLUE FLOWERS
“We must find the invaders—the creatures behind all this creepy chaos, this foreign fracas, this poisonous plague!” Bismark yelled, pointing a flap to the north. Then he picked up his twig again and brandished it around like a sword. “It’s time to fight them!” he declared. Then he paused. “Whoever they are . …”
“Oh goodness,” moaned Tobin. His belly was lurching. Was it from fear—or something worse? Panic or poison? He couldn’t tell.
“I think we need to find Iris,” he said, taking a small step forward. “She was right about the poison. And she said she knows some sort of secret. Maybe she has more information…about the invaders and the fallen star.”
“Chitchat with that hideous aye-aye? Or fight for sweet victory against the star creatures?” Bismark tapped his friend on the scalp. “Come on, amigo, use that scaly head of yours!”
Dawn, who had been pacing thoughtfully through the trees, came to a sudden stop. “No. We must find the blue flowers,” she said. Her voice was quiet but decisive.
“What? Qué? Quoi?” Bismark threw up his flaps and protested with a stomp. “What good is a little blue flower against an army of aliens? We must stop them…before they destroy all that is earthly and sweet! No one poisons my fruit and gets away with it!”
Tobin opened his mouth to suggest finding Iris once more. But then the fox lifted her snout, revealing her amber eyes. Their intensity made Tobin stop short.
“Iris was right about the poison,” said Dawn, “but we can’t assume she was right about everything. No one has actually seen a star creature. And we don’t know for certain who poisoned the pomelos.” She looked off toward the horizon. “All we know is that the sick animals need our help. And the flowers will cure them. Finding the blue flowers as soon as possible is our priority.” The fox shook her head with worry. “We don’t know what this poison might do to them if it’s left untreated for too long.”
The sugar glider flung his twig into the brush. “If you insist, mon amour.” He sighed, embracing the fox’s leg. “But let the record show that I proposed brawn, bravery, and battle!”
Tobin gulped and cradled his stomach. He wanted to find Iris and get more answers, but his fear of the poison was growing, so he sided with Dawn instead. “Yes,” he said, bobbing his snout. “We should find the cure.” But then he remembered the words of the ailing animals. “How though? Where? The blue flowers are gone!”
Dawn shook herself free of the glider, who was still gripping her leg. “I know of another flower field,” she said, determined. “But it’s some distance away, near the springs where the water bubbles up from under the ground. It’s the perfect place for these flowers to grow. We must leave at once.”
Without another word, Dawn sprang toward the hills, leading the Brigade at a brisk pace. Bismark kept up, soaring just overhead. Tobin, however, fell behind after just a short while.
“Giddyap, my scaly amigo! You’re cramping our style, slowing our strides, messing our mojo!” Bismark cried from the treetops. “If we’re not going to fight, we should at least move with speed!”
“I’m…I’m…coming…” the pangolin gasped, doing his best to sound chipper. But his voice came out strained, and his breathing was heavy and ragged. The pangolin was never the speediest of the group, but this sort of sluggishness felt unfamiliar…different.
Dawn glanced over her shoulder. Not only did Tobin sound fatigued, but his eyes looked a bit dull as well. “Are you okay?” she asked, slowing down.
“Oh goodness, I’m…I’m fine! Here…here I come!” the pangolin panted, plodding up to the fox.
Dawn paused and narrowed her eyes at the pangolin, examining his tired face. But then she turned to the horizon. “Let’s go,” she commanded, bounding across the plain. “The springs and the flowers are this way.” They continued on their journey, but after several twists and turns, their destination was still nowhere in sight.
“Um, Dawn, are we almost there?” Tobin squeaked. “I’m not sure I like the looks of this place.” The pangolin grimaced. But he was less concerned with the barren, dried-up surroundings than with the heat forming in his gut. He wanted to believe it was hunger, but with each step he took, the burning grew more intense until it felt like a fire blazing inside of him. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could walk.
“Si, si, I second the scaly one,” said Bismark, eyeing the unfamiliar land with disgust. “What is this terrible place? There’s not a single fruit tree in sight! And I don’t see any water, either. Are we lost?”
Tobin felt panic rise in his chest. The burning was growing ever hotter now; it felt as though flames were lapping against his sides. He needed the blue flowers, but how would he ever make it to the field if they didn’t even know the way? A sharp pain pierced his belly. He couldn’t go any farther. He would have to tell his friends the truth.
“Dawn…” he began.
The fox looked back over her shoulder.
“I have to tell you something.” Tobin gulped. “I…I—”
“Wait!” cried the fox, cutting him off. She held up a paw; it was glistening with drops of fresh water. “The springs,” she said. “We found them.” Then, with confidence in her eyes, Dawn gestured west, where the glint of the moon’s reflection shone in a distant pool.
“Oh thank heavens, we made it!” Tobin said. The sight of the water gave him a small spurt of energy, and he pressed ahead of his friends with an awkward gallop, eager to arrive at the shore where the flowers grew. There was no need to confess—he would be all right after all.
But when he got to the edge of the pool, the pangolin quickly skidded to a halt. There wasn’t a single flower in sight.
Breathless and confused, Tobin stood still for a moment, allowing his claws to sink into the soft, silty soil. He blinked hard, not trusting his small, beady eyes. But when he opened them once again, he knew his poor sight wasn’t the problem. There was nothing growing here. Just some reeds and weeds poking up from the lake bed.
Where were all the flowers?
The pangolin’s pointy snout swiveled as he gazed up and down the lake, desperately looking for the blue blossoms.
“What in the name of all gliders?” said Bismark, landing beside the shore. He kicked a small stone into the lake with a plop and turned to Dawn. “Where in the world are the flowers?”
“I don’t understand,” whispered Dawn, pausing beside her Brigade-mates. “This is where they always grow. At this time of year, this place should be blooming with them.”
Perplexed, Dawn traced the shoreline, plodding through shallow puddles and nosing through feathered grass. Slowly, her paws weighed down with mud, she rounded a bend and descended a small slope. Then, abruptly, she stopped.
“Tobin, Bismark!” she called.
The pangolin and sugar glider raced up behind her.
“What is it, my lady?” asked Bismark. “Have you found the flowers?”
The fox did not answer. She only stared straight ahead with alarm.
Bismark and Tobin looked at her with concern. Then they followed her gaze and gasped.
Yes, the fox had been right.
On the ground, a single blue petal fluttered in the breeze. The flowers were certainly here. Or, at least, they had been.
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For there, at the trio’s paws, sat a small pile of upturned earth. And next to it was another. And another. And another, and another, and another: small mounds of dirt with a hole in the center of each.
Just like the mounds near Bismark’s tree.
Just like the mounds at the fallen star.
Chapter Ten
STARSPEAK
“Mon dieu! Don’t you realize what this means?” Bismark cried. “First the fruit, now the flowers! The star creatures have struck again!” The sugar glider kicked at one of the mounds. “I told you we should have gone after them!”
Tobin looked at the bare earth by his paws. It was like a graveyard, with row after row of the chillingly familiar mounds evenly spaced out across the field. The sight made his scent glands twitch and his belly burn with the most extreme heat he’d felt yet. He looked up to his leader, panic in his eyes.
“Oh goodness, Dawn—could it really be? Did the invaders poison the fruit and steal the cure?” he asked.
“We still can’t be certain,” said Dawn, sniffing at one of the holes. “But these mounds were by the poisoned pomelos…and now in the flower field, too. I do think that somehow everything is connected.”
Tobin gulped. If there really were invaders and they had stolen the flowers, then how could the Brigade ever retrieve them? They didn’t even know where these invaders were…or who they were…or what they looked like. “Wh-what are we going to do?” he panted. A wave of nausea shot through him, and he cringed. He needed those flowers.
“I’ll tell you what we should do!” said the sugar glider, leaping atop a small rock. “We should do as I said all along: take action! Seize the star creatures! Show them our skills and our strength!” Bismark extended a flap, and nearly toppled over.
Tobin cocked his head. “But—”
“But nada, amigo,” said Bismark. Let your glider friend handle this. Watch and learn, I say. Watch and learn from your magnificent maestro.” Bismark cleared his throat and cupped his tiny hands to his mouth.
“Kaputo! Faluto! Saluto! Greetings, minions from the moon!” he began, shouting out into the forest. “It is I, Bismark, the official ambassador for your valley vacation! Do not be afraid! Show yourselves! Eep Ork, Zip Zop Zoop!”
“Bismark, what in the world are you saying?” Tobin croaked. His voice could barely carry over his heavy breathing. Not only had the heat in his belly increased; his limbs had grown weak and wobbly, and he was struggling to keep up with his friends. “If the star creatures are out there,” he panted, “you’re going to lead them right to us!”
“Exactemente, correctomundo, that’s precisely right, pangolino!” Bismark replied. “You see, while you may not understand, I, in fact, am fluent in Starspeak. Once the invaders hear their language of the skies, they’ll think they’ve found some friends and come out of hiding. And that’s when we strike. When we get back at them for poisoning us! When we take control!” Bismark took a bow. “The plan is foolproof!”
He turned toward the trees and shouted again. “Yoo-hoo, moonies! Beep beep, boop boop! Don’t worry! We shall welcome you in peace!” He shot an exaggerated wink at his friends.
Tobin shook his head. He didn’t like the sound of this plan at all.
Dawn walked along the shoreline, ignoring Bismark’s rantings and trying to sort through her thoughts. She stared at the mounds and sighed. The priority must be to cure the sick animals, she reasoned. But she didn’t know of any more fields where the blue flowers grew. And even if she did, whoever was stealing the flowers seemed to be one step ahead of them.
“Oi! Moonie-loonies! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” Bismark’s high-pitched call pierced the night.
“Oh goodness, Bismark,” said Tobin. “I don’t think that sounds much like a star creature language …” he began, but he stopped short when his keen ears detected a sound—a faint humming in the distance.
Tobin tilted his head. “Do you hear that?” he asked. He took a step closer to Dawn.
Bismark and Dawn craned their necks and listened. Their eyes grew wide.
The sound had grown clearer now. It echoed through the night sky, low and repetitive, like some sort of mysterious chant.
“Holy glider!” yelped Bismark. The sugar glider cowered in fear…but then suddenly stood tall with pride. “My gibberish…I mean…my fluent Starspeak…was a success! See? I told you my plan would work!” The sugar glider turned to Dawn and beamed.
But the fox quickly shushed him, raising a paw to her mouth. “Everyone, quiet,” she whispered. She angled herself toward the wind and stretched her ears at full length, trying to make out the vague, rhythmic call. It was a strange sound. Nothing they’d ever heard before:
“I…I…”
It sounded like an eerie chorus. Dawn listened closely.
“I…I…”
The fox focused her gaze and stared out into the darkness, trying to see who was chanting.
“Look! There!” She gasped. At the base of a hill in the distance was a glow…a small ball of light…a light that hadn’t been there just moments before, she was certain.
The fox narrowed her eyes and drew in her breath. Then, silently, she directed her friends toward the sight, gesturing with her paw.
“Mon dieu!” Bismark cried. “What foul spirit have my nonsense words summoned? I was only speaking gobbledygook, I swear!” The sugar glider wrapped himself in the trembling skin of his flaps.
“Shhh!” Dawn commanded. She centered her gaze on the ghostly glow. How unusual to see a light coming from somewhere other than the sky. Was it some sort of shiny stone? A reflection, perhaps? Another water source nearby?
Slowly, the fox moved forward, hoping to see it more clearly.
But before she could focus on it again, the light moved. It zipped back and forth, then hovered above the grass at the bottom of the hill.
Dawn froze.
This was no stone. This was no pond. The light was coming from something moving.
A chill ran down the fox’s spine as she remembered the aye-aye: her talk of invaders…her words of warning: “You shall know when you see the glow. Beware the glow!”
Chapter Eleven
THUNK!
“Oh mon dieu!” screeched Bismark. “The glow! The glow! It’s a star creature in the flesh! Or rather, a star creature in the…in the…er…whatever it’s made of!”
Dawn’s eyes widened as she watched the eerie, phantomlike glow dart around the clearing. What was it? Could it really be an invader? The fox dug her claws into the earth. It was time to find out. “Let’s go!” she commanded.
“Finally! Just as I’ve been saying—it’s time for battle!” Bismark cried. “Vamanos, mes amis—on your mark, get set, charge!”
In a flash, the sugar glider grabbed onto the fox’s blue cape, which jolted him forward as Dawn sprinted down the path. Tobin, meanwhile, staggered to his feet, holding his stomach gingerly and taking uneasy steps after his friends.
“Dios mio, do you see how it flashes and gleams!?” Bismark cried, his eyes transfixed by the glowing creature’s rapid, blinking movements at the bottom of the hill. “It’s made of moonlight—the stuff of stars!”
Dawn squinted. Bismark was right: the creature looked like a small orb twinkling with a pale blue light. It was unlike any living being she had ever seen. What would the creatures look like up close? What did they want? Could the Brigade defeat them? She pressed forward, uneasy, but eager to get some answers all the same.
Tobin huffed and puffed after her, but he was starting to wobble with every step, and he suddenly felt strangely heavy. He paused to catch his breath. “Oh goodness!” he gasped, looking down. His belly had started to swell!
Tobin gulped. He needed a flower more than ever now—and if the star creatures were snatching them, this could be their best chance of finding one.
“Keep…going.…” Despite his pain, Tobin urged himself on, taking deep, steadying breaths. They were nearly there now. The o
rb was just a few paw’s lengths ahead. But as they drew closer to it, they could see something more. In the circle of blue light was a vague sort of outline. The star creature was made of more than just light!
The three friends squinted, struggling to make out the form. But then—
Poof!
The moon slipped behind the clouds, and just like that, the glow vanished.
The trio skidded to a halt.
“Quoi! What diabolical demon is this?” uttered Bismark, bewildered. “Where’d the little star-critter go?”
Dawn lunged at the spot where the glow had been just a moment ago and dug furiously at the ground. “It has to be here,” she shouted, churning her paws, but then she recoiled as her claws scratched hard stone. The ground underneath was solid rock. The glower was nowhere to be found.
Tobin clutched his stomach and couldn’t help but let out a moan of despair. His vision was fuzzy and his sweaty brow throbbed. Everything seemed hopeless. No glow, no flower, no cure.
But then the moon peeked through the clouds, and the pangolin glimpsed something blue in the distance. He blinked.
“Oh my, look! Look, both of you!” he cried. “There it is!”
Dawn and Bismark followed his gaze.
“Wait, no.” The pangolin grew confused. He realized what he saw wasn’t glowing, exactly.
He squinted again. Then he turned to the fox. To his surprise, her face was stretched into a wide smile.
“Dawn? Wh-what is it?” he asked.
The fox eagerly bounded up the hill’s slope. “Tobin, it’s a flower!” she yelled over her shoulder. “It’s a blue flower! The star creature led us right to it!”
As the Brigade crested the hill and the moon rose above the clouds, the land before them finally came into view. And that’s when they saw it: a whole field of blossoms swaying against the sky, their orange centers and broad blue leaves flickering in the night like small flames. The trio couldn’t help but take a moment to pause and admire the sight.