SKREEEEEEEK!
The shrill sound came from above.
Everyone gazed up to see birds of prey soaring through the sky in a perfect V. A dramatic whoosh filled the night as hawks, falcons, and owls flapped their long wings in unison. Their sharp cries echoed through the dark. There were so many of them, their feathered silhouettes hid the moon.
“No!” A terrified scream pierced the air.
At once, the animals gasped and focused their eyes on its source—Polyphema.
For a moment, she froze, as though startled by her own cry. Then she bowed her head in embarrassment. “Excuse me,” she said, her voice low. “I’m sorry. I… I….” Suddenly, she perked up. “I had a vision!” she said. The tuatara bowed to reveal her third eye. “An image of the past. Of terrible battles from long ago between the birds and the beast. And then a vision of things to come. Blood… feathers… broken beaks!” Her milky orb gleamed.
“Oh goodness!” shrieked Tobin.
“The birds do not stand a chance,” warned Polyphema. “They must leave. The visions are growing more urgent. And they are never wrong.”
“We’ve been over this,” said Dawn, glaring at Polyphema. “No one is going anywhere.”
The two females stared at each other. Finally, Polyphema’s third eye twitched. She broke the fox’s gaze. “You will regret this,” she hissed. “And so will the birds.” With a huff, the tuatara stepped away from the crowd.
Dawn narrowed her eyes at the reptile then quickly refocused. She had to remain calm and in control. It was her job to manage the others.
She looked down at the helpers, who had grown in number. The birds of prey gathered around them, framing the smaller creatures in a band of bronze, gray, and pure white. The hawks scratched at the earth with their talons. The falcons darted their yellow-rimmed eyes. The owls swiveled their heads in quick circles. Feathers bristled and rippled like waves as the birds discussed the tuatara’s warning.
Dawn stared at the many eyes looking up at her—orange and gold, big and small, oblong and round. They all shone with wonder and worry, and they were all fixed on her gaze. She felt a sudden swell in her chest. Then, the fox cleared her throat.
At once, the stirring ceased, and a hush fell over the crowd.
“Welcome,” she said. “Thank you for coming. As you may know, there’s—”
“A monster!”
“A terror!”
“A beast!”
The crowd erupted, buzzing and flapping with fear. The ash fluttered and swirled in the chaos.
“I told you not to alarm them!” Dawn said, shooting Bismark a glare.
The sugar glider’s face burned a deep pink below his fur. “It—it was Tobin!”
The innocent pangolin raised his scaly brows in alarm.
Dawn rolled her eyes at Bismark, gave Tobin a knowing nod, and turned back to the crowd. “Yes,” she said as calmly and evenly as she could. “There is a strange creature afoot. And it is responsible for the destruction you see.”
The animals gasped as Dawn, the voice of reason and truth, confirmed what the dramatic, slightly less trustworthy sugar glider had told them earlier in the night.
“The children!” A kiwi’s shrill voice rang from the rear of the crowd. “How will we save the children?” The distraught bird buried her beak in her husband’s soft, hair-like feathers.
“Everyone, listen. There’s no need to panic.” Dawn’s voice grew stronger and louder. “We will triumph over this beast. That’s why you’re here—to make a trap so we can catch it.”
The hawks nodded their speckled heads. The owls hooted in agreement..
“Let’s begin right away,” Dawn continued. “The plan is to take the vines and make a net so that we can fool the beast into falling into the crater. Jerboas, remain here and begin weaving these vines together. Kiwis, travel to that far-off cluster and untangle those vines with your beaks. Owls, falcons, hawks—gather the vines from the kiwis and fly them back here.” The fox paused and straightened her spine. “Does everyone know what to do?”
Despite their worry and the hard work that they faced, the crowd cheered.
“Woo-hoo!” Bismark yelped. “This calls for the flaps!” The sugar glider extended his wing-like flaps and prepared for a celebratory flight. But without the help of the wind, he barely rose off the ground before tumbling down in a heap. “Ahem….” Bismark scrambled to his feet and hastily dusted his coat, hoping that no one had seen. “Right…” he stammered. “like I was saying…let’s trap this monster!”