The Ominous Eye. Tracey Hecht
beneath his scales. “What do we do? Is it close?”
“No, no,” Polyphema assured him. “It’s not here.”
The pangolin breathed a short sigh of relief and uncurled his body. Then he scrunched his long snout. “I don’t understand, though,” he murmured. “You said that you see it.” He surveyed the land. His eyesight was poor so he never relied much on his eyes. And with the tuatara having one extra? He certainly trusted her vision over his own.
“Yes,” said the tuatara, “I do.” She paused, and the scales on her speckled neck twitched. “I see it. I have only to concentrate and it comes to me, as if in a dream. I see you. I see everyone. I see the past, the present, the future. I see all with the power of my third eye. And there?” She nodded toward the menacing mark in the crater. “I see destruction to come. I see death.”
“Death?” gasped the pangolin. He drew his scales close to his body and fought the urge to curl into a ball again.
Polyphema leaned her head down low, revealing her third eye once more. “Yes, death.”
“Oh mon dieu!” Bismark cried. He flailed his flaps, creating a whirlwind of ash. “We are doomed! Done! Fini!”
Tobin took a deep breath. Then, suddenly, as if drawn by an invisible force, he gazed into the tuatara’s strange, milky orb. “What do you mean exactly?” he asked quietly. “Do you see this beast causing death?”
“Yes,” said Polyphema. “And my power of sight never fails.”
Dawn let out a skeptical grunt. She found Polyphema’s so-called visions difficult to believe.
But Polyphema pressed on, unbothered by the fox’s distrust. “Don’t worry,” she said to the pangolin. Her spikes gleamed under the stars as she spoke. “I see death, as I’ve said.” Her mouth spread into a sly, toothy grin. “But I also see how to escape it. I can tell you how to fight the beast.”
“Well, don’t just stand there, my mysterious, Tutu. Tell us how to stop this terrible creature!”
Polyphema looked at the sugar glider and tilted her scaly neck. “It is really quite easy,” she said. “To defeat him, simply meet his demand.” She paused, flicking her two front eyes over her audience. Her voice was low and unwavering. “Everyone must leave,” she said. “The jerboas in the forest, the moles underground, even the birds in the sky. They all must leave the valley and never return.”
For a moment, no one spoke. Only the wind shrieked in the night.
“What?” Bismark extended his flaps in disbelief, sending a whirlwind of ash through the air. “Impossible! Unworkable! Infeasipracticable!”
“Kick everyone out of their homes?” Tobin asked. The pangolin rubbed his round belly, which had suddenly developed a knot. “Why would the beast want that?”
“This is his territory,” said Polyphema. “He came here first, long ago. Now he’s returned to take what is rightfully his.”
Dawn narrowed her eyes. “We will not force anyone out because of the demands of a selfish beast.”
“I don’t see any other choice,” said the tuatara.
Slowly, with purpose in her stride, Dawn moved toward Polyphema, spearing the ground with her nails. They stood face to face, eye to eye, with only a thin veil of ash hanging between them. “These animals are not going anywhere,” said Dawn. Her words pierced the air like shards of ice.
“But look what the beast has already done!” exclaimed Polyphema. With a flick of her head, she gestured toward the burned ground and the ragged crater nearby.
Dawn shrugged. “There’s no proof that the beast did this,” she said.
The moonlight peeked through the clouds, flickering off Polyphema’s scales. “Trust me. This is the work of an angry, powerful creature.”
Tobin curled into a ball. With the exception of the wind’s lonely howl, the air hung heavy with silence.
“Well then,” said Dawn, clearing her throat. “I will go talk to the beast. We will hear for ourselves exactly what he is planning, and exactly what he wants.”
Slowly, Tobin uncoiled. He stared at the fox in awe.
Bismark, however, let out a quick yelp. “Muchacha, no!” With a dramatic leap, he flung himself at the fox and clutched the red fur on her leg. “You can’t! You won’t! I won’t let you!”
Polyphema’s eyes flickered. “We have to remove everyone from the area!” she exclaimed, her voice ringing with desperation. “We need to do what he says! I have seen the future.”
“We will trust what we see for ourselves,” Dawn said coolly. With a confident turn of her head, she looked toward her friends. “Let’s go.”
The tuatara gazed down at the ground for a moment. “You have no idea what you’re in for,” she murmured, sweeping the ash with her tail. And then, with a narrowed stare, she watched the Brigade depart into the dust.
As the trio left, Bismark turned for one last look at the reptile. With each step they took, she grew smaller and fainter, her scales fading into the ash. “Do not cry, darling Tutu!” he called over his tiny shoulder. “Though you will never meet another brigade like ours, nor another glider so handsome as myself, I am sure you and your magic eye shall survive well into the future!”
Tobin edged alongside the crater. Timidly, he glanced over its rim at the monstrous print down below. His scales started to shudder. “I don’t know, Bismark,” he said. “It doesn’t seem like she needs us. It seems like we might need her.”
The sugar glider threw back his head and placed a paw on his chest. “My silly amigo!” he chortled. “Everyone needs me. But I agree—I think we do need that triple-eyed Tutu.”
Dawn let out a grunt of annoyance.
“Don’t be jealous, princessa. I need you as well. It’s just—instead of your eyes, I desire your heart.”
“I’m not jealous,” she said. “I am wary.” The fox surveyed the lifeless, gray landscape and the deep crater beside her. Her gaze hardened. “I admit that I do not know who or what this beast is. What I do know, however, is that the tuatara’s ‘solution’ is no solution at all.” She took a deep breath, calming her racing pulse. “In order to solve this problem, we must go to the source.”
Tobin gulped. “B-b-but the source of this problem is the b-b-beast.”
“Precisely,” said Dawn. She turned her gaze toward the looming, black mountain ahead. “And our best chance of spotting him is from that peak.”
“Oh goodness,” groaned Tobin. The pangolin was not the best rock climber. Compared to his friends’ legs, Tobin’s legs were stumpy and stout, which often caused him to fall behind. Nevertheless, he followed Dawn’s lead, past the crater, trudging through the vast field of ash until they reached the foot of the mountain. As he surveyed the steep slope, Tobin’s chest tightened.
From afar, the mountain appeared dark and eerie,