The Ominous Eye Read online




  Copyright © 2016 by Fabled Films LLC

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information address Fabled Films LLC, 200 Park Avenue South, New York, NY 10003. [email protected]

  Published by Fabled Films LLC, New York

  ISBN: 978-1-944020-04-0

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2016944966

  Second Edition: November 2016

  3 5 7 9 10 8 6 4 2

  Cover Designed by SJI Associates

  Interior Book Design by Notion Studio

  Typeset in Stemple Garamond, Mrs. Ant and Pacific Northwest

  www.fabledfilms.com

  For information on bulk purchases for promotional use please contact Consortium Book Sales & Distribution Sales department at [email protected] or 1-800-283-3572

  From the paws of

  Sarah Fieber.

  For her mom

  But not without Tracey, Tommy, and Rumur.

  Book Two

  The Ominous Eye

  To see a map of the Brigade’s adventure, visit www.nocturnalsworld.com/map/

  Contents

  Chapter One: Boom!

  Chapter Two: The Crater

  Chapter Three: The Monster’s Shadow

  Chapter Four: The Stranger

  Chapter Five: The Third Eye

  Chapter Six: Eye to Eye

  Chapter Seven: Up

  Chapter Eight: The Fortress

  Chapter Nine: The Suspect

  Chapter Ten: A Clever Plan

  Chapter Eleven: Beyond the Wall

  Chapter Twelve: Skreeeeeeek!

  Chapter Thirteen: A Terrible Warning

  Chapter Fourteen: On the Hunt

  Chapter Fifteen: Otto

  Chapter Sixteen: The Missing Birds

  Chapter Seventeen: Halt!

  Chapter Eighteen: The Beast’s Attack

  Chapter Nineteen: Hang on, Bismark!

  Chapter Twenty: Blood and Feathers

  Chapter Twenty-One: Banishment

  Chapter Twenty-Two: Three Gashes

  Chapter Twenty-Three: Golly Gee!

  Chapter Twenty-Four: Down, Down, Down. . .

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Life and Death

  Chapter Twenty-Six: Uncle Bismark

  Chapter Twenty-Seven: Legacy

  Acknowledgements

  About the Author

  About the Illustrator

  About Fabled Films

  Chapter One

  BOOM!

  “Really, amigo? Another one?” Bismark glided down from his pomelo tree and plopped next to his friend Tobin. It was a small plop, because Bismark was a sugar glider, a tiny marsupial much like a flying squirrel. “If you keep stuffing yourself like a warthog, I’m afraid you might explode!”

  Tobin froze, termite in claw, and glanced at his belly. It was the only part of the pangolin’s anteater-like body not covered in hard, brown scales…and it was grumbling loudly. “Just one more,” he said, smiling bashfully.

  Tobin opened his mouth and unrolled his long, thin tongue. It was so long, in fact, that it had to be coiled and stored in his stomach. But when it was time to eat—like now—he unfurled it like a long, pink vine.

  The pangolin grinned at the fat, wriggly insect. This termite was going to be a good one.

  But then a strange noise startled him. “Oh goodness!” Tobin exclaimed. At once, he shot his tongue into his belly, snapped his jaw shut, and curled into a ball. It was the position he took when he became frightened, which happened often and easily. “Did you hear that?” He stared into the darkness. “I heard a faint sort of rumble!”

  “Mon dieu,” teased the sugar glider. “Don’t tell me you’re about to blow.”

  Bismark scrunched his tiny face and plugged his nose. When the pangolin got really scared, he sometimes released a smell from his scent glands that was so stinky, it could knock an angry rhinoceros out cold.

  “Oh goodness, Bismark! It’s not that,” Tobin said. He peeked through his claws at the leaves of the tree overhead. They were moving, but he could not feel any wind. “Listen!”

  Bismark sighed and cupped his tiny ear with one paw. “I do hear something…” he mused. The sugar glider thoughtfully stroked his chin as he tried to identify the strange vibration. Then, suddenly, he pumped his small fist in the air. “Eureka!” he cried. “But of course! It’s the beating of my true love’s heart. My ravishing Dawn must be near.”

  Quickly, the sugar glider licked his paws, smoothed his fur over the bald spot in the center of his scalp, and searched for signs of the fox. She was the leader of the Nocturnal Brigade—the group the three friends had formed to protect the animals of the valley who needed their help. She also happened to be Bismark’s not-so-secret love.

  Sure enough, Dawn emerged from the brush with a soft patter. Her amber eyes were alert and darted over her surroundings.

  “I knew it!” declared Bismark proudly. “And now that I see you and your radiant red fur, mon amour, I’m shaken straight to the core.”

  “Shaken, yes,” Dawn said breathlessly.

  Slowly, Tobin uncurled and stood up. The rumble grew louder, and he felt a tremor beneath him. The pangolin glanced at the ground. Pebbles jumped at his feet. “The earth! It’s moving!”

  “My silly amigo—that is just what it feels like when my beautiful Dawn comes into view!”

  “There’s no time for romance,” said Dawn. The tawny fur along her back stood up like blades of wild grass. “We need to take cover. These tremors are growing larger.”

  “Nonsense!” cried Bismark. “The only thing growing is the surge of love in my heart! And it is all for you, my lady!”

  Ssssssss. A faint hiss rose from the ground.

  Bismark let out a high-pitched shriek and leaped onto Dawn’s back. “By all that glides! Is that a snake I hear?”

  “No,” said the fox, “but let’s move. We need to find a safe place at once.” She pointed uphill, at a boulder with a large hole carved into it. Then she plucked Bismark from her back and bounded toward it, seeking its shelter.

  As the trio dashed through the trees toward high ground, the hiss around them turned into a sizzle. Soon, the ground was crackling and popping beneath their paws. Dawn leaped into the hole in the boulder, and Bismark and Tobin followed.

  Bismark clutched Dawn’s slender leg while Tobin hesitantly peered past the rock’s edge.

  “Oh no,” cried the pangolin. “Look!”

  In the distance, a thick veil of steam spiraled through the night air. As the wind picked up speed, the steam billowed toward the three friends. The moon flashed in and out from behind the sheet of white clouds.

  Tobin shut his eyes tight, dizzy from the sudden humidity and the rapid changes of light. The scent of rotten eggs filled his sensitive nostrils as the steam spread over the animals and blanketed them in a haze.

  The frightened cries of other creatures echoed from beyond the trees. The bushes rustled and shook as animals throughout the valley bolted through the forest in search of safe places to hide. The Brigade, however, held their ground and each other.

  Bismark wiped a thick bead of sweat from his brow then fanned himself with the wing-like flaps that connected his arms and legs. “Is it just me,” he gasped, “or is it getting hot out here?”

  A low hum rang through the air. The pangolin felt his heart shake as the sound grew to a growl, drowning out everything else.

  Then, suddenly, all was still. The ground no longer shook. The air no longer rang. The animals, the branches, the leaves—all fell quiet.

  “Phew!” exclaimed Bismark. The sugar
glider brushed some loose dirt off his flaps. “What a doozy! That shaking, that groaning, that heat?” He exhaled with great relief. “Muy caliente! At least it’s over…”

  BOOM!

  A giant blast shook the earth. The ground rocked and the wind roared and the three animals grasped one another in terror. A giant column of smoke rose up from the distant hills. And then, all went black.

  Chapter Two

  THE CRATER

  “Tobin? Bismark? Where are you?” Dawn struggled to see through the darkness.

  A cloud of ash hung in the air, blotting out the light from the stars. Slowly, the ash began to fall, carpeting the ground in a soft layer of gray.

  “Oh goodness, I’m right here!” called the pangolin, shuffling toward the sound of Dawn’s voice.

  Bismark appeared from under a small pile of cinders. “Mon dieu!” he cried. “What was that rumble, that thunder, that bang?”

  “I don’t know, but we must find out,” Dawn said.

  “Are you loco, my love?” Bismark coughed. “You want to go toward the big boom?”

  Dawn stood tall. “Yes,” she said. Her ears still rang from the blast, making her voice sound hollow and foreign to her. She lowered her gaze to the ground—it was splintered with zigzagging cracks. “Even this far away, there is damage. Who knows how bad it is near the blast?”

  Tobin saw the determined face of his leader. Despite his nerves, he nodded in agreement.

  “So be it! Bold in adventure, brave in challenge, the Nocturnal Brigade to the rescue!” cried Bismark. With a flourish, he drew out his glittering, blue snakeskin cape—the costume the Brigade wore when they were on a mission. Dawn and Tobin took their capes out, too, and fastened them around their necks. Within a moment, the trio was ready. It was time to keep the Brigade’s promise to protect the animals of the night.

  “I think the sound came from that direction,” said Dawn. She pointed toward a mountain in the near distance. “Let’s go.”

  The Brigade crept toward the peak. The ground was hot and glowed red with embers. Carefully, the animals plowed their way through the smoldering fields of ash and broken rock.

  “Pee-yew!” exclaimed Bismark. “Either Tobin’s scared out of his scales, or this stuff smells like rot!”

  “Oh goodness, Bismark—you know that’s not me!” The pangolin squinted, struggling to keep Dawn in sight. Usually, to help his poor eyesight, he tracked the white tip of her tail. But now it, like everything else, was painted a dull shade of gray. “Oof,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes. “I can’t even see the moon.”

  Despite being almost full, the moon was barely a blur, fighting to shine through the clouds of ash. The light that did reach the ground was filtered and flat.

  “Everything’s so different. Even the air.” Tobin coughed. He flicked some ash from his paw. “It feels like another planet.”

  “A planet of nightmares!” cried Bismark. The sugar glider flapped his way through the dust, attempting to wave it away, but just whipping it into his own face in the process. “What sort of world is this?” he wheezed. “The earth: scorched and lifeless! The air: stinky with fumes! My fur: stripped of its incredible sheen! My eyes: struggling to see my love’s face!” He scoffed. “This is no place for me, mis amigos. I say we turn back!”

  Dawn came to a halt.

  “Hmm?” Bismark cocked his head. “Have I convinced you?”

  “Everyone, stop,” warned the fox. Her voice was sharp and abrupt. “Do not take another step.”

  The animals froze. Without their movement stirring the air, some of the ash settled down and the landscape came into view. Right in front of them was the jagged edge of a cliff.

  Tobin gazed over the rim and gulped. If not for Dawn, he’d be plummeting over the edge, down, down, down into a deep, dark hole. The pangolin blinked, staring below in disbelief. It looked like a giant angry monster had attacked the earth, leaving a crater as big as a lake.

  “Something smashed into the ground,” said the fox. But she could not figure out what it possibly could have been. Curious, Dawn stepped toward the gaping hole and curled her paws over its rim. Then she leaned forward for a better look. Her eyes flashed in alarm.

  “Dawn?” Tobin’s tail coiled in fear. Nevertheless, he crept forward, joining the fox at the edge of the crater. With a deep breath, he followed her gaze into the hole. “Oh goodness!” he gasped.

  Bismark’s face tightened with frustration. “What could be so interesting that it steals my lovely Dawn’s breath? It must be done away with at once!” Bismark flexed his scrawny muscle, examined it with a satisfied nod, then nudged past Tobin’s rear. “Please, move aside. Allow me, animal extraordinaire, macho marsupial, and your one true love,” he said, winking at the fox, “to conquer whatever might—”

  But as he peered down into the giant hole, Bismark’s already bulbous eyes nearly bulged out of his skull. “Holy glider!” he cried. “I cannot believe what my small but extraordinary peepers see!” His heart pounded inside his small ribcage.

  At the bottom of the crater, pressed into the dirt, was the outline of an animal so huge and so fearsome, only one word could describe it—BEAST.

  Chapter Three

  THE MONSTER’S SHADOW

  “Dawn?” Tobin whispered. “What is it?”

  The fox opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. What she saw was unlike anything she had seen before.

  The creature 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 w
ords 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.