“Stop!” Dawn’s voice rang out to the birds who were marching off toward the trees. “Everyone—come back!”
The owls, falcons, and hawks spun around with a start, jarred by their leader’s forceful cry.
“What about the beast?” screeched a hawk. “Don’t we need to leave?”
Dawn shook her head. “There is no beast! Polyphema’s been lying to all of us…and now there’s finally proof.” The fox’s eyes darted after the tuatara just in time to see her long, spiky body slip past the dark, jagged edge of the mountain. “I can’t explain now, but she’s behind all of this. We have to go! Follow me!”
Without another word, Dawn dashed forward full-speed, urging her friends to follow.
At first, the birds hesitated, but then they started to stir. “We’ve got nothing left to lose,” reasoned a falcon.
“Where else were we going to go anyway?” asked a hawk.
“That’s right, birdbrain!” called Bismark, cupping his paws to his mouth. “If any of you featherweights want to stay in the valley, you’ll follow that fox!”
Bismark’s words kicked the crowd into action. But while the jerboas formed a quick-moving pack behind the sprinting glider and the pangolin, the birds of prey lagged in the dust, tripping over their talons.
“Oh goodness!” cried Tobin. “The birds can’t keep up! Dawn, slow down!”
“There’s no time to spare!” Dawn shouted, running, her legs churning up the dirt. She had to keep track of the slinky tuatara. “You have to fly!”
The birds nervously glanced toward the skies.
“Fly!” Dawn repeated. “Trust me!”
“I’m trying, my love!” Bismark sputtered, his flaps waggling pathetically in the ash. At last, his small body rose a paw’s length off the earth. “There! I’ve done it! Tell me you saw that, si?”
“Oh Bismark, she means the birds, not you!” Tobin cried. “Come on, birds! We need to stick together. You have to trust us!”
“But flying is dangerous!”
“That’s what got Otto attacked!”
“GOLLLYY GEEEE!” Otto interrupted with a sudden squawk and a burst of wings. “There’s no time for this. Let’s follow the fox!”
Encouraged by Otto’s brave battle cry, the flock of birds rose in a magnificent wave of brown, gray, and gold. Together, they flew closely behind the land animals, their feathers aglow with the afternoon light.
Tobin hurried to catch up. His eyes widened as he realized they were going around the mountain—to the fortress.
Dawn stopped when the tower of rocks was in sight. “Everyone, hush,” she whispered, placing a paw to her lips.
“What’s that mon amour? Hush?” Bismark asked, half-flapping, half-running to catch up to the tuatara. “Don’t you mean rush? Forward? Charge? Why the hold up?” he huffed. “If there is no beast, as you say—if Tutu-tata is behind all of this—then I say it’s go time!”
But despite Bismark’s furious flapping, he remained grounded; Dawn was holding him back with her paw.
“We will talk to Polyphema later,” she said. The fox fixed her eyes on the fortress. She had a strong hunch that it held the answers to all of their questions. “For now, the best thing to do is just watch.”
Silently, the jerboas and kiwis huddled in the shade of a boulder, while the birds of prey—their feathers silent and still—perched overhead on the narrow, raised ledge of the mountain.
“Oh goodness, there she is!” whispered Tobin. With his snout, he gestured toward the fort’s outer edge, where Polyphema stood pressed against the stone wall.
The Brigade crept forward. The tuatara was speaking. They could hear her low rasp, but could not make out her words.
Carefully, the fox stepped closer, emerging into the light. Tobin and Bismark tiptoed behind her.
“Shhhh,” Dawn whispered. It was risky to be this close. If Polyphema turned, the Brigade would be in plain view and her entire plan would be ruined. But the determined fox crept even closer to the tuatara. Finally, at just a tree’s length away, she stopped. Dawn craned her neck and her ears pricked up.
At last, the reptile’s words became clear. “I will protect you.”
“Who is she protecting?” asked Tobin.
Bismark leaped in front of his friends. “Um, excusez-moi, mis amigos, but the real question is what is Tutu doing talking to a rock?” The sugar glider scoffed. “This explains everything. This whole time, Poly-poo-poo has been Poly-cuckoo. Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” Bismark began to spring up and down in the ash, waving his flaps like a fiend. “Crazy! Crazy! Cuckoo! Cuckoo!”
Then, abruptly, he stopped as the fox glared at him with a searing mixture of anger and disbelief.
“Cuck…oops?” Bismark sheepishly covered his mouth.
But it was too late. The sugar glider had revealed their position and, at once, the tuatara spun to face the Brigade. “What are you doing here!” she hissed. But before anyone could reply, she began to look around in a frenzy. “Where is everyone?” she demanded. “Did the birds leave?”
Bismark scrunched his tiny face. “What’s going on here, Poly? Hmm? You’re all loopty loo.”
“I asked you a question!” The tuatara’s voice was uncharacteristically loud, high-pitched, and panicked. “Where are they? Where are the birds?”
“Oh goodness,” said Tobin, confused. “Can’t you see? They’re right above your third eye!”
For a moment, Polyphema froze. Her jaw tightened; the scales on her face turned pale. Then, slowly, she tilted her head to look up… with her two front eyes.
The tuatara gasped. So did the Brigade.
“Mon dieu!” Bismark shook his head side to side. “That three-eyed Tutu is a two-faced fraud!”
Dawn approached the reptile, exposing a gleaming, white fang. “You don’t see anything out of that eye,” she snarled, peering into the dull, milky orb. “Not the birds, not the beast, not anything! There is no special ‘sight.’ There is no sight at all. There is no beast!”
The birds above let out a gasp.
“Look!” Dawn continued, beckoning Otto. The fox led the injured owl toward the dumbstruck tuatara, then she positioned them back-to-back. His three, dotted wounds perfectly matched the three ridges of spikes on the reptile’s tail.
“She is the one who attacked Otto!” Dawn blared. She pointed to the dark, caked blood that stained Polyphema’s scales. “She is the real beast!”