Dawn listened closely. She pressed her ear tighter to the wall and tried to make out the words. Then…
SKREEEEEEEK!
A shrill squawk rang out through the night. Immediately, the mumbling inside the fortress stopped. For a moment, there was pure quiet. Then, there was a frantic rustle—a scramble, the sound of claws against stone. Polyphema was leaving the fortress… and fast!
Dawn’s heart started to race. I can’t let her know that I followed her, she thought. I can’t let her see me! The fox drew in a deep breath. Then, as fast as she could, she sprinted the way she came, around the base of the mountain and away from the mysterious fortress.
Dawn pushed herself to the limit, dashing across the ash-covered ground at breakneck speed, kicking up huge clouds of dust as she ran.
When she reached the crater nobody was there. She glanced behind her. No sign of Polyphema. Good. She had escaped unseen. For a moment, the fox sat and caught her breath. Then, from the shadows, she heard the snap of a twig.
She drew in a worried breath.
“Helloooooooo, amiga!”
With a grin on his face and his flaps outspread, Bismark appeared, twirling and hopping his way toward Dawn. Behind him, Tobin sputtered and coughed, struggling to keep up with his friend.
“Come on, mon ami! Chop-chop!”
Dawn took a step toward Bismark. “Where are the others?” she asked. “Did you bring help?”
“Y-yes,” Tobin gasped, placing a claw on his heaving gut. “They’re…coming. Just…a little…behind.”
“I sprinted the whole journey back!” Bismark announced proudly. “I could not stand another moment away from my love, or from our new three-eyed friend.” He batted his eyes. “Did you two have fun while we were away? Where is that lovely Tutu, anyway?”
“I’m here,” said a low, raspy voice. The tuatara stepped out of the darkness into the moonlight. She was panting. Nervously, she looked up at the sky. “I was trying to sleep,” she lied, “but then I heard a strange noise. It… it sounded like a bird!”
“That is the sound of help, amiga!” Bismark spun toward the shadows. “Hurry, slowpokes! Vámanos! Pick up the pace!”
The animals Bismark and Tobin had gathered from the valley approached the crater, shrouded in a large cloud of dust.
Polyphema craned her scaled neck toward the group. Her tail nervously twitched in the ash.
Dawn, with her keen amber eyes, looked out at the crowd. “Everyone’s carrying vines,” she observed. “Good work. Although—the fox shifted her gaze toward Bismark’s empty paws—“now I see why you got here first.”
The sugar glider crossed his arms over his chest. “Excusez-moi, muchacha, but these flaps were preoccupied by tasks far more important than vine transport. You see, I, Bismark, maestro extraordinaire as you might recall, was busy leading the way.”
Tobin sighed and shook his long snout. Dawn raised a tawny brow.
“Please, bella Dawn,” he continued. “I know you like looking at me, but perhaps you should direct your attention to all the other empty-pawed folk. Our scaly amigo, for instance? And the birdies?”
“I knew it!” cried Polyphema. “I knew I heard birds!” She glared at Bismark and Tobin. “You said you were only bringing jerboas!”
“Why should it matter?” said Dawn, narrowing her eyes. “We should be grateful to everyone here and make sure that they all feel welcome.”
Polyphema shook her head. “The beast won’t like this one bit,” she said. Her third eye shot open and twitched with every beat of her heart. “No, he won’t like this at all.”
“Oh goodness,” cried Tobin. “We’re sorry! We didn’t mean to do anything wrong!” The pangolin’s body slumped with guilt, and he took a worried step back.
Bismark, however, leaped forward and stroked Polyphema’s creased cheek. “Calm down, Poly-poo! The more, the merrier. These animals are here to help!” The sugar glider gestured toward the crowd. They had finally arrived, wheezing and sweating. “And look,” Bismark continued, “I’ve got them totally under my flaps. Regardez.” The sugar glider cleared his throat. “You may leave your vines here!” he shouted, extending his flaps with a flourish. The animals dropped their cargo to the ground. Bismark beamed at the crowd’s obedience. Then he looked to his friends for approval. “You see that, Tutu? That’s what we call respect.”
But Polyphema paid no attention to the sugar glider’s antics. She was distracted, rapidly blinking her eyes and frantically searching their surroundings. “Where are they?” she cried. “Where are the birds!?”
“Why all the attention on our winged friends, dear Tutu? Are you attracted to creatures who fly, like myself?” Bismark lifted his flaps and strutted proudly.
“Yes…” began Dawn, ignoring him. “What’s going on here? Why so much interest in birds?”
“Just show me where they are,” hissed the reptile. “I need to know… for the beast!”
Bismark sighed in exasperation. “Well, there are some right there, Poly-poo!” He gestured with a flap toward a group of round, ungainly birds, bumbling at the rear of the pack. “Mon dieu! For a creature with a whole extra peeper, you sure don’t see much.”
Polyphema followed the line of his paw toward a huddle of brown birds, short and squat with long beaks. Clumsily, they teetered through the ash, poking around for roasted worms, often stepping on each other’s feet. “You mean those things?” she asked in disbelief. “They don’t even have wings.”
“Oui, yes, it is a terrible truth.” The sugar glider sighed. “The kiwis don’t have wings. What can I say? Not all creatures are blessed with extraordinary features like mine.”
Polyphema’s lips curled in a grin, and a sound—almost like laughter—escaped from the edge of her mouth.
The fox cleared her throat. “What’s so amusing?”
Quickly, the tuatara erased the grin from her lips. “N-nothing,” she stammered. With serious eyes, she gazed at the fox. “You’re right. We should make everyone here feel welcome.”
Dawn studied Polyphema. She couldn’t figure her out. But she would have to worry about that later.
The fox took a deep breath and climbed atop the large heap of vines. From that height, she could see everyone who had come to help. At the front, the jerboas squeaked and nervously scratched at their ears. Behind them, the kiwis whispered and wobbled in the thick layer of dust.
Dawn opened her mouth, prepared to speak to the crowd. But then, before she could begin, a gust of wind hit her face and a dark, looming shadow swept over the ground.
SKREEEEEEEK!