“We’re baaaa-aaaaack!” With a somersault and a leap, Bismark barreled back toward the crater where Polyphema still stood. “Did you miss me, dear Tutu? Yes, oui, of course you did—how could you not?”
“I thought you might be back soon,” she replied. Her lips curled in a slight grin. “I believe you need my assistance?”
“Oh goodness, yes,” replied Tobin. He trudged up behind Bismark and glanced over his shoulder. “I’m afraid we’ve angered the beast.”
“Are you all right?” asked Polyphema, taking a step toward the pangolin.
Bismark quickly hopped between them, flaps outspread. “What about moi? I know I appear strong—almighty, some might say—but even the magnificent sugar glider is not invincible.”
The tuatara cocked her head. “I don’t see any injuries.”
“Well, I could have been injured,” Bismark muttered, turning away.
“And how are you, Tobin?” Polyphema looked the pangolin up and down. “Were you struck by the rocks?”
“Wait a moment,” said Dawn. “We never mentioned the rocks.” The fox stepped in front of Tobin protectively. “I was right,” she snarled. “You know what happened. You were there!”
“Yes, of course, I know what happened,” replied Polyphema. “But I wasn’t there.” The tuatara lowered her face, exposing the top of her head. “Have you forgotten, fox? I see all.” The scales on her scalp parted, revealing her milky third eye.
Dawn’s triumphant expression grew dim, but she still growled below her breath.
Bismark scurried between the two females, placing a paw against each. “Let’s focus on slaying the beast, not each other, oui?”
“I already told you,” said Polyphema. “The beast won’t strike if we clear the area. You have no other choice. He is too big to slay. Too smart to trap.”
“And I already told you,” replied Dawn, “that that will never happen. We will not banish our friends.”
“Trap,” murmured Bismark. The sugar glider, who still had a paw on each female, suddenly threw up his flaps. “Tutu, that’s it!” he cried. “We can trap the beast. And I know just how to do it. It is genius, foolproof, magnifico!”
“Trap it?” Tobin said with a tremble.
“That sounds dangerous,” said the fox. “I don’t know if it’s such a good idea.”
“But I do! I know!” Bismark insisted. The sugar glider’s face lit up. “Listen, my friends. Écoutez. First, we collect all the vines we can find. Then we weave them together so they hold nice and tight. Like so.” The sugar glider hugged the fox to show what he meant before she quickly shook him off.
“Right,” he continued, dusting his coat. “As I was saying, we weave the vines until we have a giant net, then we cast it over a hole. In this case,” he gestured behind him, “that crater.”
Tobin cocked his head. “Then what?”
“Then comes the fun part,” said Bismark, his eyes flickering with mischief. “You see, the net will look natural. Once we cover it with ash, that is. So all we have to do is lure the beast onto it.” Bismark shot a wink at his audience. “And then: Boom! Bam! Splat! The beast falls into the giant hole in the earth and we have him!” The sugar glider struck a triumphant pose, legs wide, paws on hips.
Dawn walked toward the deep, ragged crater and studied the size of it. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “It doesn’t seem practical. In order to cover this hole and make sure that the beast stays trapped, our net would need to be enormous. We would need a huge number of vines, and it would take lots of hard work.”
“No problemo,” replied Bismark, casually waving a flap. He coughed at the dust it stirred up. “There are plenty of vines around here.”
The Brigade eyed the landscape, gray and barren. Dotted here and there were the taller piles of ash that marked what was left of the plants.
“Well…there’s some over there, at least.” He gestured toward a far-off cluster of trees and shrubs with long, trailing stems. “And as for the work?” Bismark extended his paws before him, rubbed them against one another, and fixed his gaze on the fox. “’T’is nothing for these skillful paws. Strong, nimble, quick—yet gentle as well, I might add.”
“I don’t know,” Dawn repeated.
Polyphema stepped to her side and nodded. “I agree. The plan will simply not work.” The tuatara extended her neck so its creases stretched flat. Her scales shone in the moonlight. “Don’t get me wrong, Bismark—it’s clever, really. But the beast will not be so easily lured to his doom.”
“Bah! And how would you know?”
Polyphema crept to the edge of the crater. “I know the beast well….” She paused. “I know how he thinks.” The tuatara narrowed her eyes at the deep hole in the earth and the shape of the beast below. “He won’t trust any bait you set for him, believe me.”
With a deep bow, Bismark offered the tuatara his paw. “Then you must be a part of our scheme, Tutu-tata. Since you know him so well, you can be the one to draw the beast into the trap! He will trust you, no?”
Polyphema’s tail flicked behind her. Her jaw was clenched.
“What is it, amiga? Are you worried about luring the beast?” The sugar glider threw an arm over the tuatara’s back. “Oof!” Feeling the poke of her spikes, he recoiled in pain. “Do not worry, Poly-pee…Poly-poo…Poly…who?” Bismark scratched at his bald spot then started again. “Do not worry, Tutu. If you need any lessons on how to charm and command, you can ask me—the maestro himself!”
Polyphema stood still, lost in thought. Though her third eye remained shut, the scales on her head seemed to pulse, as if, even while hidden, the pale, white orb was at work. “Very well,” she whispered at last. Amidst the moans of the wind, her voice sounded hollow and low. “I have seen a future where this plan succeeds.”
“Woo-hoo!” yodeled Bismark. “This is the stuff of legends, amigos. For ages to come, animals will tell the tale of the brave Brigade’s brilliant victory over the big, brutal beast of the night! That is, if we have our lovely leader’s approval.” He looked sideways at Dawn.
The fox took a deep breath. She knew that they might be facing great danger, and every moment they wasted in discussing this was a moment they could be doing something to stop the beast. It was already midnight, and at least Bismark had a plan.
Dawn nodded her head. “Let’s do it,” she said. “It’s our only hope.”
Bismark’s bulbous eyes gleamed with excitement. “It’s decided then!” he exclaimed, hopping atop a small rock. With his chin toward the sky and his cape shining bright, he punched his small fist in the air. “The Nocturnal Brigade traps the beast!”