The Fallen Star. Tracey Hecht

the fallen star. “But what about these mounds?” he asked.

      Dawn slowly paced in front of the meteorite, eyeing the crater that it had created and the strange mounds that surrounded it. She stepped closer to the fallen star and was surprised to see her reflection in the stone’s glossy surface. She turned to face her friends.

      “The explosion, the smell, this crater—the meteorite caused these things—” she started.

      “Couldn’t have said it better myself, mon amour,” Bismark interrupted. “Looks like we’ve cracked the case! Another job well done by the Nocturnal Brigade. We found the stone, though it wasn’t exactly as romantique as I thought it would be, thanks to that cuckoo creature. But no matter. Let’s head on home. Excellent work, mes amis. Muy, muy bueno.”

      Tobin watched the fox continue to paw at the mounds scattered around the meteor.

      “But I can’t explain these,” Dawn finished.

      “Hmm.” Bismark stared into the stone. “For a hunk of cold, hard rock from outer space, this fallen star sure is attractive!” The glider flexed an arm and posed in front of the meteorite, which reflected his movements like the surface of a black, depthless sea. “Mon dieu, I am handsome! No wonder that creepy cucaracha couldn’t keep her eyes off me.”

      The fox ignored her friend’s ranting and took one last careful look around the crater. Besides the mounds in the earth, there was no sign of anything unusual or any real harm done.

      She sniffed the air and pricked her ears, but nothing odd caught her attention. She frowned. Perhaps she should take the meteorite’s safe landing as a good omen: truly a lucky star, after all. And in that case, Bismark was right—the Brigade had done their duty.

      “Let us go. There’s much to clean up in the valley,” the fox said. She turned to lead her friends on the hike back up the crater’s steep slope, her tail swishing as she moved.

      “Oh you lady fox! I love it when you hustle and bustle,” Bismark called in reply, trotting to catch up.

      As the Brigade made their way back into the forest, the sugar glider stepped alongside the trundling pangolin and extended his pointer finger with exaggeration.

      “Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap!” he said, poking the pangolin’s scales.

      “Oh goodness, Bismark!” Tobin laughed nervously, glancing about with unease.

      “Loosen up, amigo, that aye-aye was a bit bananas, yes, but nothing to be worried about.”

      The Brigade continued through the forest. As they neared home, the moon faded in the sky, and the first fingertips of sunrise began to creep across the horizon. Tobin yawned. It had been a very long night.

      Dawn smiled at her tired friends then let out a small yawn herself. “Let’s get some sleep,” she suggested. The fox padded toward a fallen tree and then, using her tail, swept its loose leaves into a comfortable mound. “Cleanup can wait until nightfall when we are better rested.”

      “Good idea, my fair fox!” Bismark bounded toward Dawn and leaped into her pile of leaves, creating a flurry around him. “Nothing like a snuggle with my sweet!”

      With a good-natured roll of her eyes, the fox scooted sideways, creating space between her and the sugar glider. Then she curled up in a crescent and allowed her eyes to close.

      Tobin settled nearby and released a contented sigh. It had been an exhausting, strange night, but all was well. A lucky star, he thought, remembering the brilliant flash across the dark sky. And then he fell asleep.

      * * *

       Guuuurrrrgghhh.

      The pangolin awoke to the sound of a loud grumble.

      His eyes shot open. The sky was a rich periwinkle; he had slept straight through until dusk.

      Guuuurrrrgghhh!

      “Mon dieu,” Bismark groaned, rubbing his eyes. “What is that racket? That rumble? That noise? Has another meteorite struck the earth?”

      “Oh goodness.” Tobin grinned bashfully. “It’s just my stomach. I’m afraid I’ve woken up hungry.”

      The fox rose to her feet and smiled. “We need to check the meteorite’s damage,” she said. “But we’ll start back at Bismark’s pomelo tree, where there will be plenty of pomelos to satisfy your appetite.”

      “Pomelos!” cheered Tobin.

      “Fallen pomelos,” grunted the sugar glider.

      Tobin grinned. “Yes…and someone’s got to eat them before they go bad, right?” And then, with a small yelp of excitement, he hastened to a trot, leading his friends down the final stretch of path to the forest’s edge. But just as soon as he reached the clearing and Bismark’s pomelo tree came into view, something brought him to an abrupt halt.

      “Oh goodness!” the pangolin cried. He gestured frantically at the ground. “Dawn, Bismark! Look!”

      The pangolin began to tremble at the sight. Bismark’s tree was surrounded by dozens and dozens of mounds of loose soil, just like the ones at the star. What’s more, all the glider’s fallen pomelos had been viciously torn open and savagely clawed to shreds.

      Dawn remained silent, but her amber eyes widened with alarm and suspicion.

      Bismark’s eyes bulged. “By all that is nightly!” he screamed. “It is an attack! We have been invaded!”