“Players and spectators! Athletes and amigos! It is with great sadness, and significant inner conflict, that I resign my post as announcer. As much as I would like to entertain the masses, the Brigade must go. There are others who need our help! I bid you adieu.” Bismark took a deep bow. “Au revoir! Adios! Arrivederci!”
Jerry hopped to his side. “Maybe I could take over?”
“Excusez-moi?” said the sugar glider. “Don’t be ridiculous! Oh, my silly, miniscule mate, you could not be the maestro! Only I possess that rare talent.” With a flick of his paw, Bismark dismissed the jerboa. “Solamente yo!”
“Oh, well, I just thought…”
“You thought wrong, mon ami!”
“Jerry,” said Dawn. She approached the rejected jerboa. “I have a favor to ask of you.”
“Yes, yes! Of course!” Jerry glanced at the sugar glider. “I can be useful.”
Dawn pointed at a mound of lomandra leaves. “I’d like you to use these to form a trail through the caves,” she explained. “That way, the path out will be clearly marked. All animals, players, and spectators should be able to come and go as they please.”
“Yes, ma’am!” replied Jerry. The jerboa started at once, motioning for a few friends to assist him.
Bismark breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, a moment alone with Dawn!
“You know, mon amour, my lovely Dawn, I have been meaning to speak with—”
“Look out below!” called the bats. They dove down from the ceiling, splashing Bismark with a faceful of blue water as they landed in the glowing pool.
“Ahhhh, that feels nice!” sighed a bat.
The foursome scrubbed off their referee colors.
“Looks better, too,” said another.
“Stripes are so last season,” said a third.
“Svor.”
Tobin giggled at the yammering bats. They were having fun—how long had it been since he had seen anyone having carefree fun?
“I still can’t believe how beautiful this place is.”
The pangolin turned to see Cora. She was standing beside him, gazing at the glimmering pools. He smiled. “Yes,” he said. “It really is.”
The wombat bowed her head, attempting to conceal her flushed cheeks. “Are you…leaving?” she asked.
Tobin nodded. “Are you…staying?”
Cora nodded as well. “Joe is here,” she explained. “I need to be with my family.”
“And I, with my Brigade,” said the pangolin.
For a moment, the duo stood silent, absorbing their pending departure. Tobin reached under his scales and pulled out a piece of snakeskin that had fallen loose from his cape.
“So you remember,” he said. Carefully, the pangolin tied a comfortable knot around Cora’s wrist.
The wombat smiled at her new snakeskin bracelet. She gazed up at Tobin. “I could never forget.” Cora stood on her toes. Then she leaned toward Tobin, turned up her nose, and planted a little kiss on his cheek.
Wearing a smile the length of his tail, Tobin watched Cora run toward her brother. “Oh goodness,” he sighed.
“Pangolin!” shouted the sugar glider. “Don’t you agree it’s impossible?”
“Hmm?” asked Tobin, snapping out of his daydream. “What’s impossible?”
“To replace me as the announcer!” Bismark sighed with exasperation. “Jerry thinks he can do it, but that’s absolument absurd. Just a meaningless rodent fantasy. Jerry as maestro,” he scoffed. “They would be better off with nobody doing the job!”
As if he had been summoned, the jerboa scurried up to the group. “All set for you, ma’am!” he announced. “The path is being marked as we speak.”
“Good work,” replied Dawn.
The little animal grinned.
“And Jerry,” Dawn added, “thank you. Thank you for staying with us.”
“Might stick around some more!” the jerboa mumbled. “I hear there’s a job up for grabs.”
The sugar glider rolled his big, round eyes. “Yes,” he snapped. “Always need spectators.”
Jerry twitched his nose, and then hopped away toward the stands.
Boom. Boom.
Boris came thumping down the hall.
He dumped a bundle of long sticks onto a growing pile.
Miss, Bee, Hay, Vee, and Orr marched behind him, each carrying an armful of rounded stones. The work seemed to be doing them good. The crocodiles were smiling and laughing.
“Well, ça va, my amigos!” said Bismark. “We came, we saw, and we conquered.”
Tobin looked at the roomful of animals, happy, joyful, and free. “We did it,” he said.
Dawn glanced to her left at the pangolin, and then to her right at the sugar glider. There they stood. The members of the Nocturnal Brigade. The bold and fearless three. “Yes,” said the fox with a smile, “we did.”
“Shall we then?” said the sugar glider. He pointed to the path leading out. “Onward and upward!”
Without waiting for a reply, Bismark began his ascent toward the surface. Tobin crept slowly behind him, shuffling along the lomandra leaves. But the fox lingered behind.
The pangolin glanced over his shoulder. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked.
Reluctantly, Dawn nodded. But just as she lifted her paw to leave, the fox felt a presence behind her. She turned. There he was, the regal coyote.
“Dawn…” started Ciro.
“Ciro,” Dawn finished.
Neither animal knew what to say next. Instead, the canines stood in silence, their heads close and eyes locked.
“Ahem!” Bismark interrupted the scene from above. “Dawn? My lady? My sweet? What’s going on down there? The carnivore’s not coming with us, is he?”
“Not this time,” she said. With her eyes still on Ciro, the fox slowly stepped back. “It’s just us Brigade-mates for now.”
Ciro smiled and watched as the fox caught up with her friends. “For now,” he repeated. Then, with a whoosh of his wiry, gray tail, he trotted toward his fellow coyotes.
Back in their threesome, the Nocturnal Brigade reached the outcropping where they’d first laid their eyes on the shiny floor.
“It looks different, doesn’t it?” said the pangolin.
Dawn peered over the edge to see animals bustling across the marble. Already, the wombats and the coyotes were running new drills on the floor, while the jerboas cheered from the stands. Meanwhile, near a pool, Miss, Bee, Hay Vee, and Orr were rehearsing the rules of the game for their jobs as referees. Boris was running full-speed, gathering more supplies.
With everyone free and together, the cavern felt vibrant and warm. Even the glow of the Sea Sparkle seemed to shine a bit brighter.
Dawn gazed at the scene one last time. Then she turned to her two, loyal friends. “We are not alone,” she said. “Any of us.”
With heads held high, the Brigade made their way toward the surface. As they squeezed into the tight tunnel that led to the riverside, a faint voice echoed up from below.
“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to the game!”
Bismark punched the dirt. “That scoundrel!” he yelled. “That imposter! Up to his old tricks again, I see!”
Tobin padded up to the sugar glider. “Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. “He doesn’t have your special talents!”
The sugar glider took a deep breath. “You’re right, of course, mi amigo. The jerboa lacks my unique flair! A true announcer needs wit! Worldliness! An extensive and complex vocabulary.”
The pangolin and the fox nodded. Then the voice rang out once again.
“I am Jerry,” said the jerboa, “your multilingual m-maestro! Hola! Bonjour! Sh-sh-shalom!”
Bismark’s jaw dropped in horror. “My goodness! My gracious! Mon dieu!”