The afternoon air filled with the screams and squawks of the horrified animals.
“But why?” they cried. “Why would you do this to us?”
Polyphema took a step back.
“Yes, why?” asked Tobin, shaking his snout in dismay. “Oh goodness, what do we do with Polyphema now?”
“Nothing—” started the fox.
“Nothing? Nada? Zilch?” Bismark cut off his friend and raised his flaps in disbelief. “This traitorous Tutu must pay!”
“Nothing yet,” finished Dawn. “First, we’re going to find out what’s in that fortress.”
“NO!” The tuatara released a terrified scream. “I mean…no.” Though she lowered her voice, it still rattled with panic. “That’s not necessary. There’s nothing else to see. I confess! It was me—I am the beast!” Polyphema hurried forward and bowed before the Brigade. “Take me away,” she urged. The tuatara shot a quick, nervous glance over her shoulder at the fortress. “Now!”
“Not until we see what you’re hiding,” said Dawn.
As the fox brushed past the reptile, Polyphema began to shudder. But then, so did the ground.
“Oh no!” Tobin gasped. Rocks and pebbles trembled near his paws. “The beast is striking again!”
The other animals cried out, too. “The beast! The beast!”
“He’s back!”
“Run away!”
“Ha! Silly animals….” Bismark chuckled. “You’re forgetting what you just learned! Polyphema just told us there is no beast.” The earth lurched under Bismark’s feet, knocking him down to his rear. “But wait uno momento….” The sugar glider scratched his bald spot and swiveled toward Polyphema. “If there’s no big, bad beast—if all this was you…then how is the earth still shaking?”
The tuatara’s eyes darted from animal to animal as they closed in around her. “Okay…I’ll tell you,” she stammered. “But then you must leave my fortress alone.”
The earth gave a sharp jolt and the animals shrieked in terror.
“Oh goodness, the rumbling is growing stronger!” The pangolin tried to grip the earth with his claws. He looked pleadingly at Polyphema. “Please tell us what’s going on! Who’s doing this?”
“Tell us now,” growled Dawn. The fox snarled, baring her glistening, white fangs.
“It’s not a question of ‘who,’” said the tuatara. “The shaking isn’t from any animal. It’s from the earth itself. This peak—” the tuatara flicked her spiky head up, “—it’s no ordinary mountain. It’s a volcano.”
“A vol-what now?” asked the sugar glider. The ground shook yet again, and Bismark desperately clung to Dawn’s leg.
“It’s a mountain that opens down toward the earth’s core. When pressure builds up underground, it blows up. The land shakes, and rocks and smoke shoot through the air.”
The volcano grumbled and moaned. The animals looked up to see stone and ash burst from the mountain’s top.
“It’s true…” observed Tobin.
Polyphema nodded vigorously. “Yes, I’ve told you the truth. Now, even if just for your own sake, leave!”
The volcano rumbled again, spitting up more hot debris. Rocks began to tumble down the steep slopes.
“It’s too dangerous!” cried a kiwi. “Let’s go!”
“Run!” squealed the jerboas.
“Fly!” squawked the birds.
In a panicked swarm, the animals fled, fearing the exploding volcano.
“Come on!” shouted Bismark. “We gotta get out of here!” He tugged at the fox’s fur, but Dawn would not budge.
“Just a moment!” she said, shouting over the booms and the blasts. “You haven’t answered all of our questions!” The fox ducked, avoiding a falling stone. “What about the print in the crater? The shape of the giant beast?”
“Dawn, it’s too dangerous!” exclaimed Tobin. “We’ll find that out later—we have to leave!”
“My scaly amigo is right,” Bismark cried. “We need to get out of here, pronto. Never again shall I suffer such a devastating loss!” The sugar glider swiveled his tiny torso and eyed his bare bottom. Then he bolted toward the fortress and clambered up its stone wall. “To higher ground!”
“No, Bismark! Come down!” Tobin’s voice rang from below.
“Yes! Come down!” Dawn yelled to her friend. “It’s too dangerous up there. We must all stay together!”
“Together?” said Bismark. “You and moi?” The sugar glider raised his brows and clutched his paws to his heart. “Say no more, my sweet fox! I’d risk anything for you…even my beautiful fur. I shall fly to you, mon amour!”
Bismark beamed. Then, he extended his limbs and began to frantically flap and pump. “Arriba!” he squealed. “Watch me soar! A volcano is no match for true love.”
Anxiously, Tobin and Dawn observed their friend from below. For a few glorious moments, Bismark remained airborne over the tower. But his flaps were made for gliding on the wind, not for flying, and the sugar glider began to fall down, down, down—down into the hole at the top of the fortress, down into its depths.