The Nocturnals. Tracey Hecht
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“I have a brigade,” he told Cora, showcasing his shimmering cape.
Cora tilted her head. “What’s a brigade?” she asked.
Tobin thought for a minute. “It’s company,” he proclaimed. “With matching outfits.” Satisfied with his explanation, the pangolin smoothed a bit of snakeskin that had caught on his scales. “Would you like to meet them?” he asked.
For the first time that night, Cora’s shoulders relaxed and the crease in her brow seemed to fade. She nodded.
But before Tobin could figure out which way to go, a familiar voice filled the air.
“Botanical beasts! Plants of pestilence! Villainous vines! Stand down, at once!” And then, just a short ways downstream, Bismark emerged, hacking the brush with a stick.
Tobin cleared his throat.
“Oh!” said the sugar glider, raising his chin. “It’s you, my scale-skinned chum.” Bismark pranced forward, still waving his stick through the air. “And, ooh!” he continued, spotting the wombat. “You’ve found yourself a little amiga!” He patted Tobin on the back. “I’m rubbing off on you already, I see.” But then Bismark squinted and took a step back. “Why…it is you, mademoiselle! The damsel in such distress on the log.” Bismark planted his twig machete into the ground. “Allow me to introduce myself: I am Bismark, god amongst gliders. And I am here to save you.” The sugar glider graciously bowed.
Cora looked to Tobin.
“Come, these plants are not to be trusted—we must move to safety at once!” Bismark continued, wielding his twig again. “And that would be east, or west, or…I mean…” The sugar glider scratched the small patch of bald skin on the crown of his head.
“I believe we are safe right here,” Dawn announced, as she, too, emerged from the brush. “I have searched the banks in both directions. Nothing seems out of the ordinary.” The tawny fox crossed the grass to join the rest of the group.
“Dawn,” said Tobin, “this is Cora.”
“Cora,” said Dawn, eying the wet, wide-eyed wombat, “did you just come from the river?”
Cora nodded.
Noticing that Cora was trembling again, the pangolin drew close to her side.
“Was that you we heard screaming? Are you in some kind of trouble?” Dawn pressed.
The wombat looked at Tobin, who gave a reassuring tilt of his scales.
Cora drew in a deep breath. “My brother,” she cried, the words coming at last. “My brother, Joe. He’s… he’s been taken!”
Dawn narrowed her eyes. “Taken by whom?” she asked.
The wombat shook her head from side to side. “I didn’t see,” she replied. “It all happened too fast. We were just chewing on roots.” Cora gulped. “And then, all of a sudden, there was a noise…a rustling…then footsteps. My brother yelled at me to run, so I did, and…and…”
“And you didn’t see who it was,” confirmed Dawn.
Cora shook her head again. “We ran as fast as we could and jumped into the river.” The wombat gazed toward the water. “I thought we’d be safe on the logs…but when I looked back, Joe was gone!”
Bismark let out a grunt. “We’ll find the scoundrel who did this diabolical deed!” he snarled, tightening his grip on his stick.
Cora nodded in reply, but tears welled in her eyes and her brown fur continued to shake.
Tenderly, Tobin reached for her paw. “And your brother,” he said. “We’ll find him, too.”
The fox gazed into the night. The moon had reemerged from the clouds and its glow was yellow and dim. She tried to shut out the thought that Cora’s brother might have met a different, darker fate. “Yes,” she said. “We will find him.”
“It is mystifying! Stupefying! Absolutely flabbergastefying!” exclaimed Bismark, searching under a stone. “Where could your brother have gone?”
The animals were retracing their path up the river, looking for clues—footprints, torn branches, scratch marks on bark. Anything that might help them find Cora’s brother.
“If only I had been there when you were being chased,” said Bismark, stretching his flaps at full length. “I would’ve…I would’ve…” He paused, racking his brain. “Well,” he continued, “I would’ve done something courageous, something grand, something très magnifique!”
“Cora,” said Dawn, ignoring her friend, “do you think you would recognize the exact place where you jumped into the water? Or the last place you saw Joe?”
Cora was about to reply when suddenly, out of the midnight shadows, four rumpled bats barreled onto the scene, zigzagging out of control through the air.
“Look out!”
“Aye!”
“Ouch!”
“Oy vey!”
Wham! Splat! Smush! Crunch!
One after the other, the bats pummeled headfirst into the trunk of a tree, then landed in a mangled heap at its base.
“Oh goodness!” exclaimed Tobin. The pangolin cocked his head in concern at the mound of sinewy limbs and black wings.
“Excuse us!” said a bat, making his way to his feet.
“Just a small glitch in the biosonar,” said another. “Perfectly normal.”
Tobin stared with wide eyes. “Perfectly normal?” he asked.
The Brigade and the wombat eyed the bats as they rose to their feet, dusted their wings, and teetered into an unsteady line.
“Bats,” muttered the sugar glider. “Absolutely disgusting.”
The fox glared at Bismark. But upon inspecting the creatures before her, she understood what he meant. The fur on their chests was matted and mangy, and their rickety wings were covered in scrapes.
“Hmmm,” Tobin mused. Squinting, he examined the bats then turned to Bismark. At a glance, the animals looked nearly identical. They were similar in size, with furless wings and fuzzy torsos. The pangolin blinked—his vision was always a little fuzzy. “Are you all related?”
The sugar glider gasped in horror. “No!” he exclaimed. “Absolument pas!” Bismark puffed out his chest. “I am a proud marsupial, not some cave-dwelling, ceiling-hanging rodent.” The sugar glider spun on his toes, showcasing the black stripe on his back.
“Definitely a marsupial,” muttered a bat.
“No ability to fly,” said another.
Bismark’s face flamed with rage. “Of course I can fly!” he yelled, flailing his flaps through the air. “I glide through the tallest of trees. Soar through the windiest of winds. Sail through the stormiest of skies!”
“Glide? Yes.”
“Soar? Maybe.”
“Fly? No.”
The bats huddled and snickered.
Dawn quickly stepped in to ease the tension. “Maybe you can help us,” she said.
The creatures wobbled back into line.
“This is