The Ominous Eye. Tracey Hecht
that had left its mark in the bottom of the crater had the general shape of a lizard, but was hundreds of times larger. Its spine was the length and width of a full-grown tree. Its massive feet could have crushed the three Brigade-mates with ease. A row of sharp-looking spikes ran the length of its back and down its long, whip-like tail. No reptile—not even a full-grown crocodile—was near that enormous.
“It’s n-n-nada, I’m sure,” stuttered Bismark. He wiped beads of sweat from his brow, staining his face with ash. “N-nothing that I cannot c-conquer.” The sugar glider stood as tall as he possibly could and raised a trembling fist in the air.
Tobin took a step back. Dawn clenched her jaw. Neither one spoke.
Finally, unable to remain silent, Bismark leaped up, flaps outstretched. “Hello?” he yelped. “Bonjour? Someone, anyone? Explain this now!”
Dawn looked down at the sugar glider, but still did not say a word.
Bismark placed his paws on his hips. “Well then,” he started, “I shall take charge. I shall explain!” His breath had grown fast, and his chest pulsed with nerves. “You want to know what it is, pangolin?”
Tobin gulped.
“I’ll tell you… It’s…it’s…it’s a monster! A monster, I say!” Bismark’s eyes flashed with fear.
Edging next to the fox, he gazed down. “Do you see this?” he screeched. “That skull, those spikes, that tail? The size of this hole? A monster, a terrifying monster, destroyed this ground. We are doomed, I tell you! Doomed!”
“Bismark—” Dawn tried to calm the sugar glider, But he was already off on one of his rants.
“I’ve heard of these creatures before, mi amor. Terrorizing the land with their terrible rage! Racing after prey, covering huge distances with a single leap! Blowing smoke and flames at poor little sugar gliders!” Bismark raised a flap to his forehead. “It’s a dragon!”
Tobin let out a gasp. Though he’d never actually seen one, he had heard about dragons in myths. And they usually weren’t friendly.
“Stop that,” said Dawn. The fox glared at the sugar glider. But when she thought about it, she couldn’t come up with any other explanation. A huge blast of smoke, a break in the earth, and now this?
Dawn shook her shoulders, trying to think logically. No, she concluded. Dragons were just the invention of storytellers. But as the fox looked again at the enormous black shape down below, her puzzlement returned.
Careful to keep her breath even, she turned toward her friends. “We must warn the animals of the valley,” she said, “but let’s choose our words wisely. The last thing we want is to frighten everyone. We don’t want to create panic.”
“Panic?” yelped Bismark. “Panic, you say?” The sugar glider hopped back and forth on his toes and scratched at his bald spot in a frenzy. “No, no, no. No need to panic.”
“What do we tell them?” asked Tobin.
The fox brushed some ash from her face. “To be watchful,” she said. “Nothing more.”
“Nothing more?” Bismark scoffed. “We must tell them to flee! To run from this bloodthirsty monster!”
“It may not be bloodthirsty. And it may not be a monster. And it is definitely not a dragon.” Dawn held her head high, her voice steady. The fox gazed at the smoky, gray sky and gathered her breath. She didn’t believe dragons were real, but nothing else seemed to explain the raining ash, the smoldering trees, and the huge gash in the earth. “We don’t have enough information.”
Tobin nodded in agreement, but his beady eyes remained fixed on Dawn. “How serious is this?” he asked, searching his friend’s face for signs of comfort. All he could see, though, was the tense twitch of her jaw as she stared off into the clouds. The pangolin cradled his stomach, which twisted in terror.
“We don’t know yet. And even if it is some sort of…large, predatory animal,” Dawn said, cautiously glancing at Bismark, “it may have fled far from here.”
Tobin took a deep breath. Though his throat was still scratchy with ash, the air was clearing. As the moon worked its way through the clouds, the land brightened, and the familiar shadows of night took their place. “Yes,” agreed Tobin, “maybe it’s gone.”
“Wait—hold on un momentito—what is that?” Bismark’s voice cracked as he pointed into the distance, his tiny paw shaking with fear. Desperately, he leaped toward the fox and clung to her dust-coated leg.
The fox spun around. A long, dark shadow stretched across the ground. It had four thick legs and a long tail. A row of sharp spikes ran the length of its spine.
The Brigade watched in silence as the shadow grew larger and larger as the figure moved closer and closer. It was heading directly their way.
“Show yourself at once!” Bismark commanded. He tightened his grip on the fox’s hind leg, only daring to peek out for a moment. “We are prepared to fight, no matter how long your fangs or how sharp your spikes!”
Terror filled Tobin’s eyes. “We…we are?” A small poof escaped from his rear.
“Mon dieu!” Bismark exclaimed, plugging his nose with his paw. “Can’t you at least aim the other way? Toward the ferocious fiend that approaches us?”
A sudden harsh wind swept through the air, sending a chill down the pangolin’s spine and kicking up the soot at his feet. The wind continued to blow, and soon enough, the Brigade was cloaked in a thick, sandy spiral of dirt. Flying bits of stone, some as large as chestnuts, swirled all around them.
“I can’t see!” Tobin cried as he curled himself into a ball.
“Well, I can’t breathe!” Bismark coughed. “Your stench has completely surrounded me! And now a fleck of ash has flown into my big, beautiful peepers!” The sugar glider crouched and covered his eyes with his flaps.
But Dawn remained standing, determined to see through the dust. Determined to see the creature that headed toward them. She ducked, dodging a black rock that whistled overhead. The swirling ash played tricks on her eyes, making monsters appear and disappear out of the churning air. Reluctantly, the fox hunkered down and covered her face with her paws.
When the wind had at last eased, the Brigade remained huddled close. They could hear the sound of shuffling footsteps.
“Oh mon dieu!” With his flaps still shielding his face, Bismark prepared for the worst. “Is it close?” he sputtered. “I think I feel its breath on my neck! Mon dieu! Mon dieu! I hope it’s not hungry!”
Dawn opened her eyes just a crack. “Look,” she whispered.
Though the shadow had drawn closer, it looked smaller now.
What was the creature’s true size? Dawn, Bismark, and Tobin wondered, holding their breath, waiting to see.
Finally, the figure stepped into a lone beam of moonlight. The Brigade-mates exhaled. It was no larger than Tobin.
“Ha! That’s the puny thing you two were scared of? I knew this monster was all shadow, no substance!” The sugar glider gave a light-hearted wave of his flap and tossed his head back in triumph.
Dawn, however, stood steady as a stone and sank her claws into the ground. Tobin remained close to her side, though he had to admit, there seemed to be no reason for his fears of giant monsters. But as he glanced back at the crater, he could