Book 2: Chapter 37: Airstrike


    The smell of honey within the hive was almost as intense as the painncing the bumblebee’s side.


    With a speed the ho couldn’t hope to match, he retreated from the venom-pumping stinger. It pulled from his abdomen and sharp lines of agony ran the length of his body—he ignored them. He buzzed behind the Ho’s back at diminished speed, but was still faster than the invader could react to. His mandibles tore through the exoskeleton connecting the ho’s head to its body, and both parts of it fell to the floor, lifeless.


    Every worker left in the chamber was either dead or dying. The queeny among a bed of drones—the stingless males whose job it was to mate with the queen. Despite theirck of stingers, they had stood to defend their matriarch. For their selflessness, they had been ughtered.


    The scene stirred something within the bumblebee, and he decided then and there to do everything he could to save the queen. He could hear the buzz of workers somewhere else within the hive, but with their numbers so diminished, it was entirely likely that they didn’t have the resources to raise another leader.


    The bumblebee flew onto her back, fighting back the painncing through him as he grabbed hold of her thorax. She struggled, but even if he wasn’t awakened, she would have been too weak to escape. The bumblebee took flight, perhaps for thest time, and he flew out of the chamber. He moved as fast as possible, yet it was still agonizingly slow because of the wound in his side. All the while, spears of pain shot from his body and out into each limb.


    The venom was spreading.


    When they exited, the first rays of daylight were filtering down through the canopy above. It should have been a time of activity for the hive, but as he flew wide around the entrance, not a single insect could be seen. Those that had been trying to clear the sticky substance from the openingy on the grass below, their bodies twitching.


    The bumblebee fought off a surge of despair, knowing it would only hinder his flight and put the queen at risk if his wings vibrated with his true feelings. They reached his manmade hive, and he put the queen down gently, crawled inside, then dragged her within.


    He pulled the queen over to hisb with halting movements; his limbs were twitching as the venom wreaked havoc on his nervous system. When they reached thebs of royal jelly, the bumblebee paused. Even with his own body failing, his instincts screamed to protect his precious liquid, to leave it there for the bumblebee princess that would one day answer its call.Ignoring every base instinct, he lowered the queen’s head into thest batch of royal jelly he’d made—the one that he knew to be more potent. His eyes grew unfocused and hispound vision started to ovep. The moment he saw the queen’s proboscis extend in response to the royal jelly’s unmatched sweetness, he turned his attention to the otherbs.


    Whether it was his vision or his body shaking, he didn’t know. That question was almost immediately answered; his legs gave out, and he fell down into one of the earlier batches of royal jelly. He pushed his strawlike appendage out, hoping it would reach the sweet liquid just beneath him.


    He drank, and even with his body failing him, his wings quivered in delight—his royal jelly was more delicious than he could have ever imagined. More of the viscous goo traveled into his stomach, warming him from within andbating the lines of venom racing up and down his body.


    ***


    As the first rays of light peeked over the eastern horizon, the pelican stirred.


    He opened his eyes, and with his groggy mind slowly clearing, he recalled the events of the previous day. He shifted his body and peered down, confirming that there was, in fact, an egg there. His bill stretched wide with a colossal yawn as he shook his body, puffing his feathers out. He had stayed upterst night than he’d have liked to, but that was only natural. There had been a lot to consider, after all.


    Before the blessed darkness of rest took him, he’d reached a decision. He stood to his full height, stretching his wings and bathing in the predawn light. Before the egg could cool, he bent down and carefully clutched it in his beak. Stretching his head high, his adversaries’ unhatched child disappeared into his pouch.


    He took flight, scanning the surrounding cliffs for an appropriate-sized rock as he headed north.


    ***


    The soft smile on my face grew as the sun poked the top of its head over the ocean. By some miracle, all of my animal pals had assembled to watch the sunrise with me.


    “No, I’m serious,” I said, looking at the mixed look of confusion and awe on ws’s face. “Rocky really tried to get me to cook that pelican.”


    She cackled with chitteringughter and leaned up against the crab in question. His ckers opened, showing his annoyance, but the cantankerous crustacean wisely decided not to pinch her—she was likely to do more than just yeet him out toward the depths, as was Snips’s favored punishment.


    I didn’t miss the hint of a smile curling Cinnamon’s lip as she shuffled back into the warmth of myp; she also found the tale enjoyable. Snips shook her head and started hissing away at ws, no doubtmiserating about the struggles of having such a devious subordinate. ws nodded and chirped in response, petting the top of Snips’s carapace reassuringly.


    I watched them both with no small amount of joy. Only weeks ago, their rtionship had been strained, to say the least. Snips was a straightforward sort, while ws had the heart of a trickster buried deep within her chest. Their friendship had been blossomingtely and it sparked joy. As their chittered and hissed conversation continued—and Rocky’s body hunched further down into the sand in frustration—I turned toward Pistachio.


    The leviathan lobster was as stoic as ever, and rather than watch or take part in the morning’s hijinks, his unreadable gaze was turned toward the colors painting the sky.


    “How are you doing, Pistachio? We haven’t had a chat in a while.”


    He blew a single bubble I took to mean <em>good.</em>


    “Yeah? d to hear it, my man. The sunrise is always stunning, isn’t it?”


    He made a so-so gesture.


    “Not that into it, huh?”


    In response, he turned to look at me, cocking his head as if considering something. His eyes turned back toward the sky, and he pointed upward with a single w.


    I turned just in time to see the descending boulder.


    If I’d been expecting it, maybe I would have been able to stop it in time, but my brain simply watched the falling rock, unable to process its mysterious existence. I’m sure Pistachio could have stopped it too, given the power and uracy his rifle of a w held. Instead, we were both spectators as it mmed down atop Rocky’s head.


    The thump was so mighty I felt its reverberations in the sand, and we all went silent, looking at the boulder upying the spot that Rocky had been a moment ago. The rock shook, shuddered, then exploded into a million pieces. I shielded my eyes with one hand and Cinnamon with the other. When the pebbles and dust were no longer forming, I peered out through slitted vision.


    Rocky stood upright in a crater, body heaving up and down as a constant stream of pissed-off bubbles frothed from his undting mouth.


    ws, Snips, Cinnamon and I all shared a confused look, then turned our heads skyward. High above, the pelican circled its way down toward us.


    ***


    The pelican’s eye gleamed as the mass of rock descended toward his foe.


    When he had found a patch of rocks, he was shocked by just how much weight he could handle. He knew he was stronger than before he had awakened, but the sheer size of the boulder... it defied logic.


    The pelican might have dropped it from less of a height, but the lobster’s keen eyes had been tracking his passage since he’de into view. Even if the boulder were to go off course—which he doubted—the gigantic crustacean shouldn’t have any trouble stopping it. So, trusting his calctions and the lobster to intervene should he somehow be wrong, he had released the payload.


    There was only a small amount of wind, and even if there had been more of a gust, the rock wouldn’t have moved much—such was its sheer mass. As the boulder mmed down atop the adversarial crab, the pelican let out a muffled grunt of amusement; it was a direct hit. A momentter, the <em>thud </em>of its impact reached his ears, and he grunted even louder.


    The pelican flew down to meet his peers.


    ***


    My heart thundered in my chest, and all I could do was watch as the pelican approached.


    Cinnamon climbed atop my shoulder and leaned her front paws atop my head, craning for as good a view as possible. No one made a sound—except for Rocky, who was pinned down by Sergeant Snips and Corporal ws. The former held the enraged crab’s snippers firmly closed, while thetter held his body still.


    As the pelicannded on the shore before us, the changes were immediately visible: his body was almost a thirdrger; his bill was longer, and the tip of it had a wickedly curved hook; the webbing of his feet appeared thicker; and, most notable of all, his eyes held the keen spark of intelligence.


    “G’day, mate...” I said, my voice awestruck.


    He nodded and raised a wing in greeting, then opened his bill and dropped something on the sand before us. I peered down at the egg, my eyes going wide.


    “That... is that yours?”


    He shook his head.


    “Is it... fertile?”


    He nodded, then tensed up as Cinnamon hopped forward to sniff it. She shifted around it, her little nose twitching away.


    “She won’t hurt it,” I said, trying to reassure the freshly awakened bird.


    Its eyes rose to meet me and it nodded again, epting my words.


    “Do you, uh, have a name, mate?”


    It grunted, and I could hear a hint of its meaning: <em>no.</em>


    I licked my lips and made to respond, but then Rocky broke free. Transfixed as they were on the pelican, his jailers had let their attentionspse. He dashed for the bird, both ws held high and gathering power. Everyone burst into motion—I was the fastest.


    I appeared behind him and grabbed both his rear flippers in one hand, then raised him high. He started releasing rapid-fire explosions in protest. I let him get his anger out, and as the pelican looked at me, his eyes wide, I held up one finger and tried to say, “one moment,” but my voice was drowned out by the <em>boom, boom, boom</em> of Rocky’s angst made manifest.


    After only seconds, his sts slowed, and after half a minute, they had stopped entirely. I lowered the now-exhausted crab, shaking my head at him.


    “You tried to <em>eat</em> him yesterday, mate. A boulder to the noggin is the least you deserved, I reckon. He let you off lightly.”


    His body had gone limp, clearly having over-exerted himself, but he still red hatred at the pelican.


    “I expressly forbid you from hurting our pelican pal, Rocky. Remember my promise—if you hurt or kill any creatures, you’re banished, my guy.”


    I set him down on the sand, and the beginnings of a rude gesture formed, but then he slumped. I shook my head at the soft snoresing from his unconscious form and returned my attention to the pelican.


    “Sorry, man. He’s kind of a maniac. You’re a male, right?”


    After giving Rocky onest wary nce, the pelican turned to me and nodded.


    “Right. Well, as I was going to say before Rocky went all Rocky on us, everyone here has a name.”


    I gestured at the other animals. They smiled, made small greeting noises, and waved. The pelican and I locked eyes.


    “Would you like one? A name, I mean.”


    He didn’t respond for a long moment, weighing his options. Just when I thought he wouldn’t respond, he gave a single, sharp nod of his head.


    I grinned; I’d already picked one out.