Pin was tasked with planting an entire new garden before the day was over. He couldn’t wait any longer, for it would mean thousands of animals were cursed to go without food for weeks. Food was already lacking.

The penguin repeatedly wondered why they’d chosen him as gardener. He didn’t even eat plants and was far better at fighting.

If I don’t find food soon, thought Pin, I might just start eating plants anyway out of desperation.

All around him the brown earth was dry and hard as stone. He had to force his spade into the dirt with all his power just to get a tiny hole for a tiny plant. He’d been doing so for a week, and anything he’d planted had died. Plants had to eat and drink too, and this patch of land had nothing to offer.

But hope shimmered on the horizon. Hope in the shape of a ship laden with a curious material they called guayn.

“Thank the godchildren!” Pin yelled. “The Islandseekers are back!”

The ship was received as if it indeed contained the legendary godchildren. But those were long gone, of course, with many not even believing they ever existed. Pin had joined the side of this war called the Godesweets which still fought for the same ideals as the original gods.

Not because he enjoyed fighting a dangerous war. No, because the Southern Icesheets didn’t contain enough food to sustain him. His parents had to send him away because they couldn’t “feed another beak” on their tiny iceberg.

Hmm. An iceberg would be tasty too now, he thought.

A row of animals disembarked. They carried chests that were immediately plundered by the gardeners. Hundreds of soldiers had been commanded to grow the extra food—and they were all standing closer to the ship than Pin. They opened the chests, took out white clumps hard as diamonds, and ran back to their own little garden.

By the time Pin touched the ship, all guayn had been handed out.

Fortunately he could always count on his best friend.

Dannis, an orange-black antelope, left the ship after a delay, holding the final chest with his antlers. He did so on purpose, even if the entire army called him the Delayed Deer by now.

Pin tugged at Dannis’ legs until he followed back to his “garden”. They threw the entire contents of the chest upside-down, onto the dirt.

Pin stirred up the earth with his spade; Dannis did the same using his strong antlers. Soon they’d put all pieces of guayn safely into the ground. To finish it off, they filled the chest with water several times. The gray sludge that appeared was also spread over the garden.

“You arrived just in time”, said Pin. “Remember how many animals lived here when we arrived all those years ago?”

“Erm, a few thousand, right?” Dannis flattened the dirt further with his hooves. He had to smile. “We hesitated, unsure if we were even on the right island. We sought the major continent of Elwar, but thought we’d found a small island somewhere in the Caribean!”

“The commander just said this island holds ten thousand animals now! Where in godchildren’s names are we supposed to get all that food!?”

Dannis’ mouth became a line. “Don’t know. We could barely snatch this island of guayn before the Freethieves got it. It might take a while before we conquer the next one.”

“Don’t talk like that, deerfriend. You’re the best Islandseeker I know.”

“I am the only Islandseeker you know.”

“Feathers and fables, feathers and fables.”

Pin waggled back to a sliver of shadow looking out over the ocean. He hit the water several times, aiming for a tasty fish. His only response was his own reflection, rippling in bright blue waves.

Mmm. I could eat MYSELF by now, his rumbling stomach thought.

Dannis leaned against a palm tree, exhausted. “Do you think guayn also works its magic on Casbrita?”

Pin raised his wings. “You’re the expert, deerfriend. I’m just a soldier. I guess it works, because Casbrita can feed enough soldiers to keep stealing half our ships.”

“True yes, true yes. I just thought … maybe we could go home again.”

“Go home? But—”

“If I have a way to grow enough food, maybe my family would let me …”

Pin’s beak opened wide. He leaned forward and whispered. “You’re planning on stealing our supply of guayn? We were already cast out of our homes. You want us to be cast out of the army too!?”

“No! But if I … if I become the best Islandseeker ever, and find numerous islands like that …”

Pin shivered. “They’ll never let you have it. It’s too valuable. Besides, we have no idea why the Guayn Islands appear, or where.”

Pin spoke the truth about every single thing.

When they woke up the next day, Pin’s garden had already started growing. That guayn, that white material, almost seemed a magical medicine. As if Eeris, goddess of nature, had designed this and spread it all over the world to help the Godesweets. As if the Heavenmatter of Darus, the Stone of Destinydust, had decided to put its full magical power to use on Pin’s garden.

The soil had become fertile once more. In a while, this would create a pile of food for the pile of hungry soldiers.

Mmm. I wouldn’t mind a bite out of a pile of soldiers, he thought.

Pin was also right about how clueless they were. The white islands just … appeared. One day there was nothing but ocean, the next day a shining white island was visible from the beach. Both armies—the Godesweets as well as the Freethieves—employed large groups of Islandseekers for that reason. They had to discover new islands first and then deliver the message swiftly.

Fortunately, the Apes had invented the Telephone by now. But, well, there were Apes on both sides of the conflict, so their enemy could do long distance calls too.

What to think of the Apes? They were the reason his home was destroyed; they took all the fish around the Southern Icesheets. But they did it to feed this army and fight for peace around the world.

No matter how much truth Pin would speak, though, Dannis was undeterred. Before noon he pulled Pin upright and stalked to the commander, a large gray ape that some called the Ape Lord.

“I ask permission to start a new expedition to seek islands.”

“You’ll join the others, Dannis, like always. The ship will be ready to depart in a week. Didrik thinks he saw a new one near the Caribean.”

“It’s too slow! We lose nine out of ten islands to the Freethieves! We must learn to predict where they’ll appear.”

The Ape Lord shook from laughter. “As if we haven’t tried that for decennia. And? Discovered the secret?”

“Not yet, but I will discover it when you give me a squad and weapons to—”

“Explore all you want. But my weapons stay here.”

Dannis flattened the dirt around the tent, even though it was already hard as stone.

“Fine!” he yelled back. “I am going to do research!”

He turned to Pin to start a convincing speech, but that was obviously unnecessary. Pin had already jumped on his back and made a face to the Ape Lord.

Dannis sprinted away from the army camp as fast as he could. He felt safe and free to explore the entire island, even without weapons.

Because the war happened mostly on Origina, not here. The Freethieves—made up of Doveland and Hungerbee—felt locked in by enemies a few years ago. So what did they do? They violently took more countries around the poorly defended Ghostlands. Out of revenge, the Godesweets had killed an important member of them, and that’s how the misery started.

“Erm, what now?” Pin whispered in Dannis’ ear.

“Remember how Didrik told us that several Heavenly Objects are still lost?” Dannis whispered back, even though they were alone.

He trudged through a forest at the heart of the island, aiming for a beach on the other side they rarely visited. Through the trees he could already spot an empty shoreline. No island, no ship, not even fish.

“I, erm, am praying real hard that the Stone of Destinydust is somewhere around here.”

Pin hit his forehead with his wing. “Dannis, what do you think are the chances of the most powerful Heavenmatter just happening to—”

A flock of birds whizzed overhead. Pin rapidly put on his helmet—and just in time. Large droplets of bird poop went splat on the metal. Dannis was less fortunate and received some white spots in his fur.

“Deerfriend! Always take your helmet with you. And your weapon!” Hmm. At this point, I wonder what a helmet would taste like.

Dannis didn’t hear. The broke through the tree line and ran onto the beach.

Where a small island made of guayn shone in the sunlight.

“All the godchildren,” Pin mumbled.

“Am I going insane, Pin? Am I mad?” Dannis whispered.

“Well, yes, deerfriend, if you really want to know—”

“Or wasn’t that island there just a few moments ago?”

Pin pulled the strap of his helmet even more taut and grappled for his weapon.

All animals in the army had received weapons especially designed for their species. His gun was a wooden tube he could fill with arrows and place in his beak. By blowing into it, he could shoot anyone in a large range.

“No. That island wasn’t there last time we looked.”

“The birds,” Dannis squeaked. “They make the islands. I don’t know how, but they do.”

“You mean … that guayn … the material I’m touching all day … is bird poop?”

Dannis and Pin fell silent. What they hadn’t spotted was the arrival of the enemy; a handful of Islandseekers that wanted to claim this island first.

“Halt! Stay away! That island is ours!” Dannis yelled.

Pin placed his weapon in his beak and send a few warning shots. They mostly split coconuts in half.

If only he had brought a second helmet for Dannis. And he wished for a tasty piece of meat for energy and strength. Oh, but maybe he should really wish for reinforcements right about now.

They had brought one antelope and one penguin to the fight. The enemy had brought ten beavers.

Precisely when Bitz wanted to mix the bubbling liquids of the two flasks, his entire building shook and he spilled it all on the table. A third flask slipped from his long teeth and shattered to pieces on the floor. Now he had to redo the entire experiment.

“Darn—”

A familiar sound reached his ears. Explosions. Bombs. Bitz tripped, then furiously stumbled out of his laboratory.

Mere kilometers from here, his Freethieves army camp ended, and the territory of the Godesweets started. When they’d asked Bitz if he please wanted to join at the front line, he’d instantly agreed. Now he wasn’t so sure anymore. The Godesweets attacked with bombs, grenades, and hails of bullets.

The Freethieves, his Freethieves, didn’t answer at all.

“Shoot! Stop them! What are you—”

“My my! What an idea!” yelled a squad that ran past. “We never considered shooting! What a genius idea!”

They were different animal species, but all of them could walk on two legs and hold a gun with the other two.

“Then why isn’t it happening?”

The first buildings caught fire. The Godesweets seemed like a dragon sometimes, able to squash and burn anyone in the way, especially if you didn’t fight back.

Two soldiers showed their disassembled gun and threw the parts on the floor. “We have no bullets. No gunpowder, no ammunition. We have nothing to fire!”

Bitz looked around. The entire city was filled with weapons that he’d never seen fired. Hadn’t the Islandseekers sent a message about a new island they found? At some remote island on Elwar? They should’ve been back with new guayn by now.

The next explosion threw a battalion of beavers into the blue sky. Bitz looked up. Night would soon fall and that usually meant no more fighting. But if they still lacked ammunition tomorrow, this front would be lost. The Godesweets would take back the entire Frambozi Forest—and probably quite a bit more.

That could not happen.

Bitz hadn’t traveled with them just to watch as they were hopelessly defeated because they lacked gunpowder. He had joined to show his homeland, Doveland, that he was the best scientist ever.

He entered an off-white building with cracks in the walls. The door was slammed shut in his face. He simply gnawed his way through the wood and still entered the room, panting.

“Go away, Bitz,” the commander bellowed. “A beaver wearing glasses who thinks he’s so clever is of no use to us.”

“I am a scientist! I will find a way to make new weapons!”

The commander was a Pricecat, a sly and strong feline. He was a descendant of the family that claimed to have defeated the original godchildren, and still claimed to possess several Heavenmatter. That’s probably why he thought he was better than everyone else.

Bitz studied the map. All the routes between Doveland and Elwar were covered by large red crosses.

“A sea blockade,” he mumbled. “The Casbrita cut us off from the islands. Their fleet is far larger and stronger than ours. That’s why haven’t received guayn in months!”

That’s why we’ll never receive it again, Bitz continued the thought. He’d joined the group to process that white substance. To convert it into more food for the army. A useless goal when the Islandseekers couldn’t actually bring the substance back home to Doveland.

The commander pushed Bitz’ paws away and rolled up the map.

“Of course. A Jurad like yours can never keep their nose out of other animals’ business.”

A Jurad like you. A filthy Jurad. Bitz heard it more and more often. His religion, which he did not even practice outwardly, was apparently enough reason to treat him like a useless child.

They shall never treat him like that again.

“Give me a day. I know the science, the material. I will find a way to create guayn ourselves. The enemy has magic and demigods—then we must have science!”

“As I said: you are useless. Tonight we flee this place. I’m sending you back to university.”

“But—”

“Be happy I don’t send you to jail.”

The Pricecat pushed him from the building. A new explosion sounded, much closer than the first. The door fell off its hinges and the windows burst.

Bitz did not even notice. He ran back to the laboratory, through a thick gray mist and the screams of soldiers who were able to fire their gun. The others hid inside the homes and prepared to flee. Bitz walked through it as if nothing happened, and if he’d been less lucky, he might have been hit by a bomb that night.

But he was lucky and reached his laboratory unharmed.

The bombs ceased. The sun set and the Godesweets paused their attack. When Bitz was certain the floor wouldn’t shake again, he started working.

His wife, Bilara, hopped in to meet him. He’d married his childhood love; his heart still jumped whenever she appeared.

“Bitz! You fool! We must leave. Away from this war.”

“I won’t leave until I have the solution.”

His long teeth carried five flasks at once to the table. There he built a setup of metal, burners and measuring tools, more carefully than ever. The bombs had ruined a lot of his tools, which now circled his feet in shards. He had two, maybe three attempts. If those failed, his laboratory would be empty and he would be a worthless Jurad.

“A solution to what?”

Bilara hugged and kissed him. Without any instruction, she knew exactly which flasks to hand him and when to turn on the heater.

“Guayn. I’ve studied it over and over, and I think it works because of ammonia. That substance makes the ground soft, fertile, better suited to growing plants.”

Bilara frowned. “… the chemical that’s in our urine?”

“No, that’s ureum. But it’s similar. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Guayn Islands are the result of some magical creature peeing in the ocean.”

“And you think we, creatures with no magic, could make it ourselves?”

Bitz had positioned all the flasks carefully. Then he grabbed an unfamiliar metal tube.

“Ammonia consists of two particles: nitrogen and hydrogen.”

“I know, dear. I received a higher grade on that test than you did.”

Bilara recognized the tube once it was used: it was filled with air under immense pressure. They often used that to forcefully rip a substance apart. If you applied enough pressure to anything, it would always break into smaller pieces.

But this tube was pressured to a dangerous extent. Now Bilara was interested, and she circled the table to discover her husband’s plan.

Bitz smiled and pulled on a rope. With hesitation, a light bulb turned on. All other corners of the lab were too dark to see, but the yellow light placed Bitz and Bilara into a warm circle.

“Nitrogen and Hydrogen. Do you know what also contains those particles?”

Bilara’s eyes opened wide. “Air.”

It may sound silly, dear reader, but it is true. The particles that make plants grow faster, or make weapons fire, are in the air all around us. But they are connected in a different way. Two particles could be extremely poisonous one way, but if you pull them apart and bind them to something else, they are suddenly a medicine. Some particles want to be together, some want to desperately be apart. Bitz had the tough task to steal nitrogen—a particle that tried to stay together—from the air and put it in a flask.

It was insanity. Turning the air all around them into something like ammonia. Bitz felt in his bones that it would fail, leading to trembling fingers for the first time since he was a boy. But if it was to happen, then it had to happen under large pressure, at the right temperature, and aided by water.

He placed the final part of the process. He’d thrown everything in his lab against the problem. A deep sigh left his exhausted body.

It was time.

Bilara helped him to turn on every machine in the process. Air was sucked in at the top, while water was supplied from the bottom. The process knew more than five steps, in which things were merged, cooled, mixed, or heated.

The waiting started.

If he was right, he could kill two beavers with one stone. The ammonia makes the soil fertile. But once connected with oxygen—also in the air, of course—it became nitrate. Also known as ammunition for weapons.

The moon hung high and pride. Bitz and Bilara intensely studied the bubbling liquids and the discolored flasks.

Bilara had fallen asleep. Bitz nervously chewed some twigs. In a few hours, the sun would rise and the fight would continue. Then he must—

He looked at the clock. If his calculations were correct, the process would be done now.

His puffy tail wrapped around the searing hot flask like an oven mitt.

He studied the result: it looked like guayn.

He sniffed the result: it smelled like guayn.

He dropped the flask in his excitement. Bilara woke up just in time to catch it.

“Bitz, stay calm, think about this. The invention could change the world but also—”

“Commander! Commander!” screamed Bitz as he ran from the lab and woke up camp.

Dannis and Pin could not win the island. They were glad to escape with their fur still on their back. Once the beavers realized the Godesweets had only sent two animals, they didn’t just defend the island, they actively tried to kill Dannis.

Fortunately an antilope, despite what the name suggested, was quite good at loping. Panting heavily, he stormed back into the Godesweets camp, where Pin immediately jumped off his back to find the Ape Lord.

“The Freethieves have arrived! They took an island along the shore of Seahorse Beach!”

“Nice try,” the Ape Lord said smiling. “You want more weapons, eh? More animals?”

“Well, honestly, it’s a bit too late for that. They already own the island.”

The Ape Lord paused. His movements ceased in the middle of the hot, suffocating tent. It had never been Casbrita’s plan to stay here this long, which is why they never build any proper buildings.

“You are serious? Freethieves are here? There was an actual Guayn Island there?”

Dannis nodded, still searching for breath. “I have … I may have found a way to predict where islands—”

Pin pushed his wet black wing against Dannis’ mouth.

“Keep the invention to yourself, deerfriend,” he whispered. “This could change the world. When they talk about the savior of the Godesweets, you want them to say your name. You might even win the Knobbel Prize!”

Antlers held high, Dannis still stepped forward. “I have discovered how to predict where new islands will be. Give me a squad and I won’t disappoint.”

The Ape Lord pressed his hands together, as if about to enter prayer, and spoke sweetly. “Dear soldier, tell us this great discovery, so we can all start looking for islands. Come come, the Godesweets do not keep secrets for one another.”

Dannis looked to the side. Pin shook his head. Dannis is no soldier, he thought. Important state secrets leave his mouth like warm—ugh, I could eat a hundred warm fish right now.

“We’ll keep this information secret,” said Pin decisively. “If the Freethieves are here, they might have a spy in our midst! I merely ask payment in the form of tasty fishes.”

The Ape Lord leaned backward. His chair was richly decorated, undoubtedly built by the Bearchitects, but squeaked under his weight. He tapped the map.

“Fine. You get one ship. Do not disappoint me.”

As Dannis and Pin ran away to prepare for the journey, the Ape Lord commanded everyone to search the area for spies and Freethieves.

Dannis quickly learned that not all birds made islands. Most birds did nothing special. They followed a flock of hummingbirds for days, all the way to the Caribean, until they came down and condescendingly asked why this ship was stalking them.

He tried to explain. But the sentence “your poop is the only thing that keeps us alive” did not help.

They knew what he meant, though.

“You are looking for eagles,” the hummingbirds said, nervous due to Pin’s predatory presence. Most animals could instantly judge if someone was a carnivore or not—but which meat they liked to eat was less clear at first sight. Out on the ocean, uncontrolled and unclaimed, there were no rules forbidding predators from eating prey whenever they liked.

“I only eat fish,” Pin said with a disarming smile. “A pescatarian, as the Apes say.”

Hmm. Though my stomach increasingly sings a song that would accept any possible meat.

“One of the eagles has a giant wing. We think it’s that Heavenly Object: the Windgustwing of Cosmo. This makes everything they do … larger and more magical. If they decide to go to the toilet somewhere, they create so much guayn that an entire island appears.”

“Why are you not Islandseekers?” Dannis asked with a frown. “Flying animals would be able to spot all those islands far more easily.”

Pin was about to hit his deerfriend in the face for this foolish suggestion. That antelope really had to keep his mouth—

The hummingbird hopped onto their other leg. “We don’t care. If there’s trouble, we fly away. If there’s no more food, we fly away. Fight your wars; leave us out of it.”

Dannis thanked the birds. Now he searched the sky for eagles all day.

Once they found a few, they also found their first White Island in mere days. Deserted and unprotected. The Freethieves had no chance and spotted it far too late.

They had picked up a third crew member. A parrot that talked too much and claimed he’d worked for the legendary captain Pi. Pin was fine with listening to the wild stories, as long as he did his job. Whenever they found an island, the parrot flew back to the Ape Lord to send some soldiers to grab it.

You might think, dear reader, that they could’ve just used that new invention of the Telephone. But in these times, a Telephone meant a cabinet on the wall and a metal object connected with a thick wire. Calling wirelessly was not possible yet, certainly not at sea.

Dannis refused to lose the eagles and kept chasing them. Fortunately, the ship was designed for quadrupeds like him, not apes. The steering wheel did not stand upright, but lay flat on the floor. This way, you could steer by simply walking against it, instead of requiring the use of hands. Similarly, the sails were raised by biting on a thick rope and running, and the anchor controlled by jumping on a seesaw plank with your full weight.

The best thing? The ship had a small motor. Another new invention by the apes. Necessary, too, because a traditional ship was impossible to sail with just three inexperienced animals.

They followed the eagles from a distance; the next island appeared son. They were in range of Freethieves territory now. Dannis estimated they were still on the right side of the Lovewall now, but not for long.

When they sent their ship for the island, a Freethieves ship on the other side did the exact same thing.

The two friends grabbed each other’s paws and studied the enemy deck. They had lesser numbers again.

“We must arrive earlier,” said Pin, as he hung from the rope that raised the main sail. “Then we have the high ground.”

“And then? They fear us because we’re taller? We cast a scary shadow over them?” Dannis frowned. “If that works, we really need more giraffes for our army!”

Pin sighed. “Did you not do your training? An army always wants the high ground.”

Dannis tiptoed from left to right and back again. “We can still turn around and find another—”

“No!” Pin had stocked his tube with arrows. “This is the largest island we’ve seen! We must show the enemy the Godesweets can do.”

The ships were equally fast, equally far, and equally ill-prepared for a fight. They circled around the island at the same time. The beavers and ferrets on the other ship tried a large leap and landed at the bottom of the pile of guayn. They slowly scuttled to the top as if they were lizards and crabs.

Hmm. A crab is also a kind of tasty fish, is it not? thought Pin as his mouth watered.

Pin climbed onto the antelope’s back. Dannis pranced, which fired the penguin—with helmet—as if he were a cannonball.

Pin landed all the way at the top of the island. His landing broke off a large chunk of guayn and made it rain on the heads of their foes. A few had to let go and fell into the water.

The resulting dust clouds made him cough and ruined his sight. As the fog cleared, the enemy was almost upon him. Pin placed his weapon in his beak and started a rapid fire of arrows.

The arrows were too tiny to kill. They were tranquilizer darts, which meant the enemy might reach the top of the island, but would feel the immense desire to sleep. The Godesweets lacked enough guayn to make bullets, which is why Pin hadn’t touched a real weapon in ages.

Slowly a crescent moon of sleeping beavers surrounded him. The ferrets, however, were faster and more cunning.

Also they had weapons.

Shot after shot rang into the open sky.

Pin rolled backward as the bullets hit him. His helmet shielded him for now.

The ferrets, certain of victory, were about to plant their flag into the island. But even on this large island you could barely take a step before reaching the other edge.

Pin suddenly jumped back to life and kicked a few ferrets in their stomach. They stumbled backward, just one or two paces, but it was enough to remove the floor beneath their feet. They all fell down the white cliff, into the churning waters.

“Do you now understand why we want the high ground, deerfriend?”

He wanted to kick the sleeping beavers over the edge too, but Dannis stopped him. His antlers pointed at the captain of the Freethieves ship.

“We return the beavers, but only if you sail away and leave us alone for good.”

The captain nodded eagerly. Together they carried the snoring creatures back to the ship and even waved them goodbye as they went.

“You’re such a fool,” complained Pin. “They’re our enemy. And you merrily help them find the next island more quickly than us!”

“Our goal is to find food for all. Not to hurt as many enemies as possible. Or did you forget?”

“A soldier understands those two are often the same thing.”

Pin pulled the strap of his helmet more taut and turned his back. Fins crossed he watched the enemy ship leave.

Their parrot returned. He struggled to stay in the air because of a bucket filled with fish held in his beak. Once he placed that on the island, Pin’s mood suddenly lifted and the bucket was empty within minutes.

“Good news! The Ape Lord thanks you for the islands! If you continue like this, he might even name you First Islandseeker!”

“Do I get something for that?”

“Whatever you want. Thanks to you, the army grows less hungry by the day.”

Dannis and Pin looked at each other. The argument had already been forgotten as they bumped their bodies against each other. They returned to the ship, all smiles.

They tracked the eagles again and followed them for a week, but found no island.

They had entered war territory now. For a while, they followed the shoreline of Balkze. This entire war started because the Ghostlands wanted to conquer Balkze, which means Dannis had no idea who currently held the territory.

When they finally found the next island, deep inside Freethieves territory, it was ungarded and untouched.

This surprised Pin. It surprised him even more that they could wait for weeks, until the Ape Lord had sent reinforcements to steal the guayn, and still no enemy appeared to have spotted it.

Silly Dannis probably thinks it’s great news, Pin thought. But my soldier brain is on full alert.

Bitz had moved his entire laboratory to the commander’s quarters. Then he demonstrated his process twice. They could hardly believe the was pulling ammonia from the air. It felt like magic—even to Bitz, who obviously understood the hard science.

Air and water went in; the magical substance guayn came out. The reason they had been fighting for islands for decades. And now they could make it for free!

“Not bad,” the commander grunted, “for a Jurad.”

“Not bad?” Bitz bit his tongue. “But of course, dear Pricecat, I am merely a humble scientist in service of the Freethieves.”

The Pricecat was joined by two more animals. An older beaver and a truly ancient tiger. They had probably done important things for Doveland … a hundred years ago.

“We must scale this process,” said the tiger. “If we can have a thousand animals repeat this, every day, we’ll have enough ammunition for all within weeks! Can you teach this process to others?”

Bitz moved his small, round glasses. “The average chemist should be able to—”

“And strangers we pluck off the streets?”

“Well, erm,” stammered Bitz. His wife Bilara saved him by pulling him into an adjacent room.

Bitz tried to listen to the conversation of the other men once he was gone. Was that something about “that Jurad is playing a trick on us”?

Bilara was furious and grabbed his attention instead.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Prevent worldwide starvation.”

Bilara turned around. Her board tail swept all materials off the table. “Your process can create fertilizer, yes. But it creates terrible weapons with the same ease.”

“We are at war, dear.” Bitz calmly cleaned his glasses against his own fur. “In times of peace, the scientist is needed for progress. In times of war, the scientist is in serve of his homeland.”

“This war is foolish.”

Bitz tried to hug his wife. Her tail hit him in the face as she turned to stare out the window.

“Every war is foolish,” she hissed. “You can still step back, dear. Tell them how dangerous your invention is. Tell them it was indeed a trick, a joke, a jest. Anything to prevent—”

“We want the same thing,” said Bitz. “For the war to end swiftly. If we outnumber the opponent’s ammunition, it’s over much more quickly.”

“I doubt that.”

“It’s simple math, dear, that with more bullets—”

“If we want the same.”

Bilara kicked the door open and ran away.

Bitz watched his childhood love go, frowning. Should he follow? He stayed put.

He caught the final part of the conversation. The commander had clarified, to his ancient colleagues, that the industrial revolution had taken place by now. They didn’t need to hire a thousand animals to make ammonia with their bare paws.

They could build a machine to do it for them. Faster and cheaper. Bitz was about to do a joyous dance, but—

All this excitement had made them forget about the Godesweets, who still waited for them mere kilometers away.

The sun had risen, the land was well-lit, and that meant the attack could continue.

The first bombs shook the earth. The floor slanted and Bitz was glad he had not eaten anything yet today.

The commander yelled out the window. Then he moved to the Telephone.

A black, elongated object was kept in its place by a twirling cord. Buttons stuck out of the wall underneath it, showing numbers 0 to 10, each one as large as Bitz’s head.

A Telephone for quadrupeds. The commander alternated between using his snout and his paws to rapidly type a phone number. A crackling sound echoed through the space. Because quadrupeds could not hold the object, like apes, the volume was always raised to fill the entire room.

As the Telephone rang, the commander smiled at Bitz.

“I’m going to make you acquaintance of another genius inventor and engineer, Bitz. In a few months, I want to see rows of machines making guayn for us!”

The tapping and rattling of gunshots hammered Bitz’s ears. A horrible unescapable feeling. His ears hadn’t stopped ringing for months and he could barely sleep here.

Was his wife right? Fear of losing her grabbed his heart. Fear of seeing that angry and disappointed face as well. But now he realized she’d been angry at him ever since the day he enthusiastically agreed to join the war effort.

Why was he doing this? Was recognition so valuable to him? Because some of them called him a dirty Jurad? No, he was a scientist. He searched for truth! What others did with his inventions … was none of his concern, right?

Yes. He was simply right. The war would be over sooner if they fought harder. And that’s what Bilara wanted, right? No more war?

The commander finished his phone call. He punched a spot on the wall to sever the connection. It shook Bitz from his thoughts.

The Pricecat’s burning eyes stared into his. “For now, though, I want you to convert the process into ammunition as rapid as a hare.”

“Ah, well, I might have boasted too much,” started the beaver, as he fidgeted with his glasses. “It’s fertilizer, nothing more. It, erm, gives plants the necessary minerals, makes the ground hold its water more easily, and circulates air. There is no way to use it for weapons or—”

“DO IT.”

The Pricecat left the room and ran to the front line. The final chests of ammunition were handed out. Rather quickly, the vanguard had to drop back and the fight moved towards the heart of the abandoned city.

His beaver paws shook. His entire body shivered. He accidentally crushed the first flasks he grabbed.

What to do?

The floor never stopped shaking. The commander yelled endlessly. The front line moved back again; they simply lacked the firepower to keep Godesweets at any safe distance.

Visions shot through his thoughts. The enemy storming this room, taking him prisoner, maybe even … killing his wife.

He straightened his back. His hands found the right buttons, flasks and wires. All the ammonia he’d made so far, could be connected with oxygen to create nitrate. On its own, that wasn’t dangerous. It was flammable and had to be stored carefully, but no weapons would fire with it.

For that, you needed a second part. Nitrate keeps something burning, but you have to set it on fire in the first place. The material for the other step—sulfur or saltpeter—was readily available in this army camp.

The Godesweets entered the camp. Bitz could barely hold onto the flasks because of the rumbling room during the rain of explosions. He didn’t dare look back, look out the window. He had to find his wife. Where would she be? Surely she’d found a safe place somewhere?

The explosions ceased, just for a minute. Bitz’ heart ceased too. A tail he didn’t recognize slid past the window like a windshield wiper.

The doors opened with a loud bang.

He turned around. His glasses flew from his snout and landed in a corner of the room.

They were Freethieves, not Godesweets. Not yet. Praise be Doveland! They hadn’t lost yet.

The soldier ran inside and pointed at several petri dishes with white and black powder.

“Yes,” Bitz said, voice shaking. “New ammunition.”

The battle took ages, during which at least a hundred soldiers visited to grab some powder.

The Godesweets made the city stagger and waver, but never fall. They had just enough firepower to defend it until nightfall.

His heart stopped again when Bilara ran at him, alive and well. She ran through a ghost town, built from half-destroyed buildings, piles of rubble, and fires that never seemed to extinguish.

The commander passed her with a grin, black smears of gunpowder on his cheeks.

“Bitz! You are a special Jurad. The smartest one I know!”

Bilara pushed him, the highest commander of this camp, aside like an annoying mosquito. In any other situation this would’ve cost her dearly, but the Pricecat was too excited to care.

“We did as you ask. Please let us leave the army camp now and don’t ask us to return.”

Her words fell on deaf ears.

She must have felt, dear reader, as if she didn’t exist. As if she were already a ghost and nobody could hear her. I tried to help her. I tried to sow doubt in the mind of Bitz—but he was a man without empathy, deep in his soul, and nothing could change that.

I tried to delay the attack of the Godesweets to give Bitz more time to think it over. If anyone had listened to Bilara … none of the terrible things that you’ll discover soon would have happened at all.

Messengers ran into the dark gray room.

“The Godesweets have assigned a new Islandseeker who is taking all our islands! He even dares sail into our territory!”

“Not a worry in my ears,” said the commander with a grin. “We don’t need that guayn anymore. Let them waste time on those islands.”

Bitz had an insight. A Eureka moment thanks to years of studying chemistry. The particles he’d used for the ammunition could also form a gas. If you connected them differently, you would get an incredibly painful and dangerous gas.

An invisible, poisonous gas.

A silent killer that had to win them the war.

An amazing invention by this very clever Jurad, which might even earn him the Knobbel Prize.

Bitz shook himself out of his grasp. “I have another idea, commander.”

The Pricecat took the Telephone again.

“My dear Jurad, you get everything you need.”

The next Guayn Islands also lacked any defense. Dannis and Pin could plant their flag without trouble, wait a few days, even start breaking down the island themselves. They’d never caught this much guayn in such a short time.

Their ship was far removed from the safe harbors of the Godesweets. They now anchored near the shore of Doveland, halfway the Midterra Sea. The country that, hand in hand with the republic of Hungerbee, started this war. This was the destination of the eagles, and only the eagles made those islands.

“I told you,” Dannis started, as his antlers nudged Pin’s sides. “I was kind to the enemy, they understood, and now they leave us alone.”

“It’s dangerous.”

“Yes, yes, I’d prefer to be at home too and—”

“A soldier who makes such wild assumptions will quickly burn his behind.” Hmm. I could eat some roasted behinds about now.

It had been a while since they received a message from the Ape Lord—and thus a while since they received food. The Ape Lord did not like their foray into enemy territory. They were too far away now and couldn’t be helped in case of danger.

“Might be a coincidence. The enemy might be busy elsewhere. Or maybe they’re building an extra large squad of Islandseekers to try and win against our—”

Pin paced the deck. “You never think like a soldier, deerfriend. You grab whatever assumption suits you and pretend it’s the truth! Well, feathers and fables, feathers and fables.”

“I’ve never seen someone this angry about being wildly successful!”

Their parrot returned to underline Dannis’ point. “Good news! The Ape Lord has officially named you First Islandseeker!”

Dannis did a victory dance, which made him briefly lose control of the ship. He recovered quickly, smiling from fluffy ear to fluffy ear. “That means I can make some demands, right?”

“Yes. If it’s nothing insane.”

“We’re deep into enemy territory. I request the Ape Lord send me ten—”

“No, twenty!” yelled Pin.

“Fifty soldiers to help us conquer the final islands. That should give us enough guayn to feed the world for a century!” Dannis kept smiling and nudging Pin until the penguin also couldn’t help but giggle. “Never hungry! Never hungry!”

“The enemy will never get guayn again,” said Pin, who rubbed his oily wings against each other as if he was devising evil plans. “They’ll die of hunger. We’ve practically won the war.”

“That, erm, yes, that too.”

The parrot sighed. He seemed to have aged fifty years ever since joining this mission.

“Now I have to fly aaaaall the way back! And remember the message the whole way! Don’t look at me funny when the Ape Lord sends you five hundred soldiers or something. And then I have to find you demigod knows where. And then—”

“We could go ashore and used a Telephone,” said Dannis.

Pin quickly grabbed the parrot and threw him in the air, forcing him to fly. “We will not go ashore in dreadful Doveland. We wait here, at sea.”

Waiting was horrible. Pin regretted his choice after only a week. He’d rather set foot on land and have a fatal fight with the Doves than do nothing on a ship with a rumbling belly. Hmm. My belly wouldn’t mind a piece of dove too, I think.

As Pin hung over the railing, looking for fish, Dannis pulled seaweeds from the water. Both were not successful.

When the parrot finally arrived, he had returned with five hundred soldiers.

They were spread across multiple ships. Pin grunted in agreement.

“They all carry modern weapons. Those apes have that new gun I told you about, remember deerfriend? Oh! Oh! Those foxes have a rope they can attach to their tail, so they can swing a cannonball. The Ape Lord sent us good soldiers.”

“Let’s hope they’re not needed,” said Dannis. He searched for the eagle trail as Pin received the new soldiers. They all had the same question.

“Why did you need so many soldiers?” asked a confused ape.

Only when the parrot landed on Dannis’ shoulder, did the ape remember he spoke to the First Islandseeker now.

“I mean, with all due respect, honorable seeker, you have already saved many lives with your findings. But the Ape Lord said that the last ten islands you visited where completely abandoned. So what’s the plan?”

“If I am right, several enormous islands have recently been created along the share.”

Pin took over. He’d put on his helmet again and kept his fins behind his back. When talking to the other soldiers, his voice always carried more conviction.

“An island far out on the ocean, sure, you can miss that. But these shiny piles of guayn are so close to the shore that the Freethieves surely didn’t miss them! I think—no, I am certain—they’ll have an army there. But because we stole their islands so far, I am also certain they have no firepower.”

The soldiers all raised their weapons and yelled something incendiary, like “let’s get them!” or “all islands ours!” But they all yelled something else, so Dannis did not hear.

That night he discovered the trail again. Around midnight, a full moon lit a white mountain close to a beach.

A deserted white mountain.

Pin made signs that Dannis found laughable, but they apparently meant something to the soldiers. The ships spread out, like a fan, and explored the island from all angles.

So unnecessary. Dannis already leaned on the bow, ready to leap onto the new island.

“Never hungry,” he mumbled. “Back home.”

“ENEMY!” yelled the third ship, which had sailed in a circle to check the backside.

Like an ant colony chased from their home, the enemy swarmed the island within seconds. The moonlight cast odd shadows and had hidden the danger. To Pin’s eyes, the entire island seemed to come alive, the animals merely a carpet blowing over it.

A carpet with sharp teeth and exploding grenades.

A hundred soldiers screamed and ran for the island. It was already out of space. The others aimed to shoot from distance without hitting their allies. Pin swung around the mast, arced through the air, and landed right amidst the turmoil.

A shot fired. He duck down and slid forward on his belly. With his wing, he slapped away the legs out from underneath a dozen enemies.

Dannis retreated. He intended to stay on the ship, safe and distant, but the enemy was too numerous. A group of ferrets hijacked his ship like a band of pirates.

He needed a strategy. After a rough calculation, he decided they had enough ships for it.

After at least twenty ferrets had boarded his ship, he ran into the steering wheel, causing the ship to jerk around and turn suddenly. The ferrets fell to the side, but managed to grab ropes, barrels and the main mast.

Now the second part of the trick. Dannis kept turning the wheel—and the ship could not handle it.

It keeled over. The mast didn’t point at the moon anymore; it pointed at the bottom of the ocean.

Dannis lept to the islands. The ship went down, with all the enemies still attached.

Pin ran past him. “Ah! That’s what I like to see, deerfriend! A real soldier’s move!”

“Our ship … I destroyed an entire ship … and all those ferrets …”

Dannis turned around, dazed, as if half asleep. Pin followed his gaze. The world seemed to play at five times the normal pace; it was impossible to follow the fight before them.

“Where did they get all this ammunition!?”

They were losing.

Two Pricecats ran along the edge of the island, kicking enemies off the cliff. The drop was only a few meters, but in the night the water was ice cold and blinding.

Dannis ran away. He reached to place Pin on his back and flee, but Pin had already bravely jumped back into the fight. With his fire arrows—which seemed children’s toys compared to the enemy’s guns—he put one of the Pricecats to sleep.

The other broke through the defenses and made straight for Dannis.

Not a coincidence. The Pricecat had a purpose; its target had always been the First Islandseeker.

Dannis lowered his head to point his antlers ahead of him like a shield.

The Pricecat paused.

Dannis waited, but no attack came. When he looked up, the cat grinned and made his decision.

He dodged Dannis’ weak attempt at a shield, bound the antlers with rope, and slung the antilope into the ocean.

Bitz traveled the army camp as if he owned it, a long tube bound to his back. A red cap, as large as his head, shut it tightly. Yellow icons on the sides signed that this was dangerous.

As he tapped on the commander’s door, someone else tapped on his back. As he turned around, the tube was stolen off of his back.

He already knew who’d done it.

“Bilara, dear, don’t work against me.” She stood nearby, holding the tube in her paws like a baby.

“I will not allow it. I just will not allow it.”

“If I don’t make these inventions, someone else will. Give it to me.” He stepped forward; she stepped backward. Her tail bumped against a cage. Hastily assembled from pieces of metal and old guns, it contained a scared antilope.

“It is forbidden. The Treaty of Haggel forbids the use of chemical weapons during a war. Ha! Now you must—”

“Give here!” yelled Bitz. A row of soldiers stopped marching to look at him. “Or I arrest you for theft.”

“I am your wife. And I ask you, with all my heart, to stop this madness. Someone else will invent a poisonous gas, some day, sure—but at least you won’t have blood on your paws!”

“What does it matter? A bullet, a bomb, a gas? Dead is dead.”

Bilara’s mouth hung wide open, naked and immobile. The tube of poisonous gas dropped from her grasp. Bitz focused only on saving this invention and presenting it to the commander unscathed.

“And you ask why everyone hates the Freethieves,” the antilope mumbled.

Bilara burst into tears. She ran carelessly past the sharp edges of the cage, sustaining several abrasions that soon started to bleed. Her departure left a trail of blood drops through the army camp. She did not slow down.

“Quite a big mouth, you have,” Bitz snapped at the antelope. “First Islandseeker, puh. Worthless fighter, more like it!”

He pushed his snout against that of Dannis’. Thin bars were all that separated them.

“Thanks to my genius brain, we don’t even need those islands anymore.”

“Then why attack?”

“Because the eagles told us some annoying ship was following them. That our enemy suddenly also had enough food for all. We don’t like that, now, do we?”

Dannis scraped his antlers past the steel. “I should’ve known, dumb dumb dumb,” he mumbled. “The eagles were also on the wrong side during the First Conflict. They still own the Windgustwing and still use it for the wrong things!”

“Wrong?” Bitz smiled. “If the eagles hadn’t made all those islands in the first place, we would have had a Great Starvation a century ago. Millions of animals would have died if guayn didn’t accidentally exist. You Godesweets … always drawing the wrong conclusions.”

The door opened. The commander himself stepped outside.

“Ah, if that isn’t my favorite Jurad!”

“Yessir! The gas is done. It just needs to be … tested.”

The Pricecat shrugged. “Battles are frequent here. We’ll test it next time.”

Bitz shook his head. “A scientist does not guess. He tests, he finds proof, he demands evidence. I can’t live with releasing this gas unknowingly. For all we know, it might endanger our own troops.”

Dannis scraped the metal again. “You can live with gassing others, but not leaving an invention untested!?”

“Well, well,” Bitz said with a grin. “It seems we found our guinea pig.”

Dannis’ expression darkened. He walked away, tot he back wall of the cage. He said something, but only nonsense came out.

“Bring him to an empty room that’s tightly sealed,” Bitz said. “I’ll administer just the slightest bit of gas and we’ll see if the antelope likes it.”

Bystanders helped carry the cage inside, to an unused room at the back of the commander’s quarters. Dannis kicked, and bit, and yelled, but his antlers were tight and the cage was too small to stand.

Once inside the room, they let Dannis out of the cage. They went to the adjacent room, where they could study him through a window, and locked the door.

Dannis ran in circles and pushed his body against every crack in the wall.

There was no escape from this room.

“And the ammunition?” the commander asked.

“All is well, sir commander. We have piles of nitrate already, more than we even need at the moment, and our machines are increasingly efficient and flawless. We’re storing it all in the large storage building not far from here. I must recommend, commander, that we use it soon. It’s quite flammable. Destroy the enemy with a thousand bombs!”

Bitz removed the door handle and pushed the gas cylinder into the hole. He carefully placed tape to seal the entire opening, ensuring no gas leakage.

“Bitz, dear friend, I’ve talked to our highest commander. He insists I give you an even better position in the camp. Maybe … maybe you’ll be the first Jurad allowed to be a commander.”

The beaver fidgeted with his glasses, and cleaned them over and over, as he enjoyed this compliment. He’d proven everyone wrong! Soon he’d be the most important scientist in all of Doveland.

Then he was interrupted by a window bursting to pieces and a penguin and parrot storming the room.

The Pricecat immediately took his weapon between his jaws: a gun that fired by biting on it. He shot the parrot. The bird twirled in the air to dodge it, then pecked the enemy’s fur like an army of sharp daggers. The commander screamed and put out his nails.

Bitz let the penguin come for hem, then opened the door at the last second.

Pin rolled into the room with Dannis.

Bitz quickly closed and locked the door, but Dannis pushed his antlers into the opening. The wooden door crashed into his head and broke pieces of his antlers—

But it stayed open a crack.

Dannis had assumed Bitz would not release the gas when the door was open.

Dannis had underestimated the scientist’s madness.

As Pin scrambled to his feet and reached for Dannis, Bitz slammed the cap off the cylinder. The commander had pushed the parrot against the wall and spread his jaws to take a bite.

The gas spread through the room. Nearly invisible, sometimes a green or yellow ghost. It smelled faintly of mustard. Even before it touched them, their bodies reacted instinctively, shivering and pulsing to tell you to run, jump, fly, anything to make the gas go away.

Bitz pulled the commander out of the room.

The gas hit Pin’s face. He groaned and choked as he fell to the floor, his fins searching for support.

Dannis took a deep breath, shut his mouth, and dove through the gas. His front paws landed around Pin. By kicking backward, the penguin slid from the room, away from the largest fog of gas. The parrot finished it by carrying Pin with his claws, a weight he didn’t know he could carry.

There they fell on the dirt littered with sharp stones. Smoke rose from the room as if someone had burned the place.

But it didn’t really rise, like smoke should. It stayed close to the floor, drifting and lingering.

They studied Pin. His skin had been burned in many places, as if a dozen bullets had grazed him in a firefight. But he’d worn his helmet, as always. It had prevented the gas from hitting any part of his head.

Pin was alive, and in pain.

Perhaps not much longer. A rain of firestones clattered onto that same helmet.

At the next street, an entire storage full of nitrate had exploded.

His body was burning. Anywhere the gas had touched Pin, his skin hurt. Pain, pain, pain, endless pain. His eyes felt dry and would not open anymore. Even his longs were on fire and pretended to have forgotten how breathing worked. He heard voices, but they couldn’t overrule the beeping in his ears.

It delayed his realization that the real world around him was also on fire.

Dannis sunk through his knees, but Pin was too weak to climb onto his back. The fire of the explosion had consumed all neighboring houses by now. Even from this distance it felt like entering the heart of a volcano.

Soldiers screamed and ran back and forth, some away from the explosion, others right into it to save their friends or possessions.

Another explosion. The fire had reached the first home of their street.

“Pin! Pin! Can you hear me?”

Finally his eyes opened, but his vision was still blurry. It prickled and itched, as if someone drove a knife into his pupils, and then threw him into a desert. They were outside, but it didn’t feel that way. The gas felt all around him; a blanket still seemed to choke him.

In that chaos, the Freethieves had forgotten their prisoners. They jumped onto a new invention called the Automobile. It moved automatically—hence the name—and added even more stinking gas out of an exhaust pipe. Some still called it a Cart, just with an upgrade.

That gas isn’t as bad as the Mustard Gas though. Pin wanted to say it, but his throat was still on fire. Mmm. I could drink an entire ocean right now.

The fire grasped for anything more to burn, faster than Dannis could follow. They were surrounded by flame walls before long.

An automobile passed by. Dannis dared a leap and pushed the drivers—three beavers—off of it. The parrot helped carry Pins heavy body again, which worked against them all the time. They barely got him onto the cart.

“Where’s the steering wheel!?”

Dannis was used to the vehicles of the Godesweets, made predominantly for apes. Those had chairs, a steering wheel for hands, and a gear lever. This one had none of that and looked more like a wooden raft on wheels. A toy cart that was built too large.

“Hold on!”

“As if—cough—I can—cough—”

“What’s that, Pin?”

Dannis stood on an extended wooden plank. Apparently, it sent the car to the right. They turned in circles, again, and again, looking for a gap in the fires.

“Pin! Pin! How are you?”

“We must—” He coughed slime and turned onto his belly. “We must go back.”

“What?”

The automobile suddenly leaned left. Pin looked back. Two beavers had latched on and wanted to flee too, one with a burned tail, the other wearing glasses without glass.

Was that Bitz? He prepared to kick him off the cart. Then his vision sharpened and he realized it was someone else.

Of course. Bitz and the commander would already be safe and sound somewhere else.

“Think, deerfriend!” yelled Pin. A cry followed by more coughing. “A chance. Steal their secrets!”

“I am thinking—about how we’ll SURVIVE.”

The car leaned sideways again and teetered on the edge of toppling over. A heavy rhino crushed the back wheels in an attempt to climb onto the vehicle.

“You are SAVING the ENEMY again.”

Pin found his strength, partially thanks to his anger.

Dannis caught one of the beavers with his broken antlers. With a jerk of the head, he threw the beaver to the steering wheel. And sure, they did know how to use the automobile.

Dannis cast a shadow over Pin. “I am saving living beings.”

“I HATE YOU.” Pin tightened the strap of his helmet. When he was about to jump off the car, they suddenly turned and he fall backward.

“You are a GRUMPY PENGUIN.”

“I saved your life!”

“And then I saved yours!”

Another explosion. All homes in the area had seen fire now. They neared the storage building filled with nitrate, where the explosions had started and still continued.

Pin pointed at a building a little further away: Bitz’ laboratory. “I am going to THAT BUILDING to steal their formula for the gas! Do NOT STOP ME!”

“Well, well, well, then I am GOING WITH YOU.”

Together they lept from the driving card, rolled over the bumpy ground, and sought their way to the lab. Pin tried to slide on his belly, but his damaged skin protested. He grunted at Dannis, then climbed on this back again.

The car chased them. The beaver had found the highest gear. Pin feared they’d finally realized they were enemies, but they didn’t actually chase them.

They aimed for a beaver standing in front of the burning storage building.

“Bilara! Bilara!” they said. “Bilara! We come to save you!”

Their voices were relieved, almost cheerful. And surprised she had been able to stay out of the fire, completely unharmed.

Bilara turned around.

She walked into the fire.

The fire grabbed her, burned her skin, but she did not react. Dannis and Pin could not look at it. The car came to a stop at the front door, drowning in disbelief, uncertain what to do.

They could not save her anymore.

Dannis broke the door to the laboratory with his antlers. Pin ran inside and pulled open cupboards, drawers, chests, maps, even other doors. Gray smoke swirled through the rooms as if they were guarded by ghosts.

As Pin went into another room, Dannis explored some metal object near the window. Bitz’ notes were there, untouched by fire, spread around as if they were accidentally left behind. As if they were worth nothing.

But those papers contained the secret. The secret to make guayn themselves.

Dannis hadn’t really believed it. He thought the Freethieves had actually found the Stone of Destinydust and used that to grow their food and get gunpowder. But these papers and flasks proved they had worked on an actual scientific process to making fertilizer.

The choice was simple. Dannis had enjoyed being First Islandseeker. But his goal was not some higher rank—his goal was never hungry. Going back to the forests of Casbrita, to his family, bearing the good news that they’d never have to die of starvation again. He was no soldier—never had been.

A worn leather bag hung by the door. He threw all the papers inside and pushed his neck through the shoulder strap.

Pin stuck his head through the doorway.

“There is,” another coughing attack, “another exit here!”

The car raced past the window. The soldiers had decided there was nothing they could do for Bilara or Bitz. They escaped safely through a gap in the firewall.

Dannis and Pin ran for the other exit and landed on a field of grass, just outside the fire zone. They wasted no second and found their way to the front of the Godesweets. Hopefully they’d recognize Dannis, the First Islandseeker, and let him in. Otherwise their troubles were just starting.

The more they walked, the more Pin regressed. The mustard gas had not only touched him physically. His entire body felt ill in a way that resting could not solve. In fact, standing still made it worse and made him realize just how badly he was damaged.

Their parrot landed on Pin’s shoulder, who yelled in pain from the featherweight.

“Where have you been all this time?”

“Bad news! The Freethieves want to continue the gas. They’ll use it tomorrow, at large scale, with an attack on the Godesweets.”

“To be expected,” Dannis said solemnly.

Night fell. They’d have to walk for a few more hours to enter the Godesweets army camp.

“Even worse news! The Godesweets saw the explosion and think the Freethieves are weakened now. They plan to do a surprise attack tonight.”

Dannis and Pin looked each other in the eye.

“Oh well, I guess the fate of the entire war is in the hands of a genius antelope and a grumpy penguin again.”

“A very brave, strong penguin. Who’s hungry.”

“And, erm—” Dannis frowned at the parrot. “We never even asked your name.”

“Better not. Half the world is still looking for me on accusations of piracy! A false accusation, aye!”

“Yes yes. I can’t wait until we can use that Telephone at sea. We won’t need messenger birds like you!”

“Fine. I’m getting old. I heard a Freethief mention that they were collecting Heavenmatter to stop the Magic of Longlife, but only for the Godesweets. Can you imagine? That none of us live a thousand years, at least, but … only twenty years?”

Dannis and Pin looked as if they were overcome by a bad smell.

“Then there really is no time to waste.”

All three of them sucked in a nice, deep, long breath of fresh gasless air.

They raced to warn the Godesweets to not attack.

As the soldiers knocked on his door, around midnight, Bitz already felt the grave news they’d bring in his heart.

He had fled in the same car as the commander. Something only the real important animals were allowed to do. He lived close enough to the front line that he could see the campfires of the Godesweets through his window. Sometimes he heard them laugh or even play music.

He’d never hated the enemy as much as he did now.

How dare they have fun? How dare they pretend they were friends? Friends did not exist, not when you were a Jurad. He’d finally reached this place at the top of the ladder, and then Bilara … and then she …

Sitting in his living room, the commander rapidly drew up new battle plans. Bitz had repurposed the rest of his home as his new laboratory, which worked tirelessly to produce as much gas as possible. The first machines they’d made helped tremendously. They produced the work of a hundred chemists, in less time. Fortunately, the rest of the process still had to be done manually.

The soldiers took off their helmets, but kept to the doorway. Their shadows crept over Bitz’ workspace, making it hard to see which flask he was holding.

“Your wife … Bilara … she is …”

“You’re in my light.”

The soldiers—a mix of ferrets, beavers, and animals he hadn’t seen before—looked to each other for assurance. “Sir? Did you not hear us? Your—”

“Disappear!”

The only other light came from flashing yellow light bulbs and flasks containing some fluorescent material. Bitz seemed a monster in that light, a shriveled dwarf hiding deeper and deeper in his hole, afraid of the light. Only his eyes and teeth, and perhaps his glasses, sometimes flashed.

The soldiers disappeared, except one. He still held his helmet in front of his belly. He cried and could barely speak Bilara’s name.

“The commander would understand if you want to take time off. To grieve your wife. Time to take her back home. The plan can be delayed.”

“The plan will be executed! Tell the commander that. Tomorrow we gas our enemies, stealing their breath from the first to the last.”

“Your … prisoners have escaped. They have plundered the laboratory. Perhaps the secret of the gas is already in the hands of the enemy.”

Bitz smashed a flask to pieces on the ceramic floor. “What do you want!?”

“If you use the gas … there is no way back. They’ll do the same to you. You know how cruel the gas is—would you wish another the same fate? Another soldier? Your children? A friend?”

Bitz unfurled his paws. He held crumpled paper, Bilara’s elegant handwriting still visible here and there. A friend.

What friend?

Tears formed. The feeling was unfamiliar to him. He was supposed to grow old with Bilara, his childhood love. Her letter confirmed she really hated him those final days. Hated him like he hated the enemy now, but somehow even worse.

She never wanted war. She wanted a return to academics, to invent with him. Her letter talked about winning the Knobbel Prize—no higher aim for a scientist than that. The prize rewarded the best invention each year, with fame, money, everything.

Now his invention stood on the precipice of escalating this war. His wife was no more.

Which wife?

He stood and stepped in the light. He met the soldier’s gaze.

He was no ferret. And no beaver. His face didn’t even look familiar. Was he even a Freethieves soldier? And that uniform, wasn’t that used in that Nine Years War before pirates appeared?

“Who are you?”

“Just a friendly sun badger asking you to please reconsider.”

He sounded like his wife. He didn’t want to be reminded of his wife.

Bitz grabbed an iron poke of which the tip was searing hot and lay on a heater. He swung it forward like a sword, as he yelled towards the other room.

“Spy! Burglar! Help!”

The sun badger put on his helmet and trudged away. Not afraid, not hurried, not disappointed, just deeply sorrowful.

“Why can’t I just kill him, Ismaraldah?” he asked … nobody. Bitz thought he might be talking to the dark night sky. “That would solve everything, right? Gosheliegosh, everything is so difficult with you.”

A buzzing sound. The commander stormed the laboratory, joined by his highest generals. They ran outside to see a large, circular wooden object appear out of nowhere.

The sun badger stepped inside.

“Or maybe I could kidnap him? A simple time abduction? I’ll send him back to the time of the dinosaurs or something, and he won’t be able to do any harm.”

“No,” said a female voice. The door closed and Bitz could not eavesdrop on the conversation any longer. The object vanished as quickly as it came.

“I want something like that,” the commander said. “Think you can invent that?”

“I am a chemist, not a wizard.”

Suddenly it was all so clear. Bitz had sacrificed his life at a chance for glory. It was a serious task, every day, not to be taken lightly.

But everyone else? They saw war as a game. Their high rank as a given. Tanks and weapons and countless deaths were just a toy to entertain them.

He’d invented fertilizer and prevented a Great Starvation, and it still wasn’t enough.

He would never get back his old life. He’d chosen his path and he would walk it until the end.

He straightened his glasses, ran to his laboratory, and asked for even more gas cylinders.

A few hours later the early birds started their songs. Bitz had calmed down and was completely immersed in the work. This gas would change the war, it was going to work, and he’d be the savior of his homeland. In his mind’s eye, status of him and his Knobbel Prize had already been erected.

A trumpet woke up the camp.

What? At this hour? An unhelpful mistake?

The trumpet sounded again, louder this time. The first doors opened as sleepy faces asked what was going on.

Only one possible answer: the Godesweets attacked.

The soldiers rapidly formed lines. Bitz ran outside holding a simple flag in his hands.

The wind was blowing the right way. Away from the Freethieves, to the Godesweets. They didn’t need to fear the gas blowing back in their own faces.

Bitz laughed, louder and louder. The Godesweets were walking into their own trap! With open eyes!

God wanted it to be this way, this was a sure sign. God supported his cause.

The gas cylinders were distributed. The soldiers were told, several times, to not enter the battle field themselves under any circumstance. They had to pretend to fight, but safely stay behind the gas.

The cylinders were placed. A row almost a kilometer in length, with consistent gaps in-between.

The Godesweets were close enough to recognize their faces. They yelled and accelerated, probably certain of victory.

Bitz gave the signal.

The cylinders opened. A green-yellow fog crawled over the battle field, carried by the wind, as gas masks were distributed among the Freethieves.

The Godesweets did not have those.

Dannis, Pin and the parrot without name arrived too late. Along the way, they reunited with the five hundred soldiers that the Ape Lord had given them. Upon seeing the reinforcements, the Godesweets only felt more eager to launch a surprise attack.

The mist that blew their way was explained as smoke from yesterday’s explosion, or maybe innocent morning dew.

Dannis was faster than the others and sprinted onto the battle field.

“Stop! Turn back! Do not touch the gas!”

Nobody listened. It had to be those blasted helmets; they blocked their hearing.

He looked back. The fog seemed to accelerate. He had ten seconds to convince them all, then he’d need to leave too.

If he could leave at all.

“Listen! It is not a mist, it is—”

Pin was never one for talking. He fired arrows at their own soldiers, to force them to stop and check their surroundings. He hit a dozen allies before they turned on him with cries of “betrayal!”

A cry that seemed childish and weak compared to the screams of the first soldiers to touch the gas.

Dannis hadn’t noticed that several animals ran further ahead. Two confident apes had a large lead. As the gas enveloped them, they grabbed their head, their skin, their tail, every part of their body, as they cried for their mother.

The other soldiers thought it a panic attack. A nightmare in bright daylight. An elephant broke formation to lift the apes with his trunk and carry them back to a safe location. A friendly soldier that went mad and wildly swung around him was more a liability than an asset.

A gigantic elephant that did the same thing was fatal.

As the gas touched the gray beast, he thrashed and screamed. His trunk squashed his fellow soldiers and his tusk cut straight through the metal of a tank. His low grunt shook the entire battle field.

“My eyes! My eyes!”

The elephant seemed blinded. His flailing body caused gusts of wind that accelerated the gas even more. They didn’t have an even bigger soldier to carry the elephant to safety.

Soldiers stopped walking. Some frozen, as if the gas was ice cold and turned you to stone. Some turned around. They saw what happened to their friends and fled the battle with wild eyes.

As soon as the first soldiers dropped their guns and fled entirely, all hell broke loose.

Everyone yelled, touched or not. The gas twirled and swirled through all the ranks, like hurricanes always looking for their next victim, worsened by the many apes, lions, wolves and elephants that flailed around and lost control.

Not only accelerated by ourselves though, thought Pin as he looked ahead.

The eagles had come down. Their Windgustwing gave them precise control over air and wind. Possessing the Heavenmatter, they could steer the gas precisely at their enemies.

The gas moved too quickly.

Dannis ran as fast as he could, but never escaped. The gas followed everywhere, filled every space, like ghosts nipping at tails. He bumped into a soldier, and another one, and stumbled over one that lay in the grass. Soldier after soldier fell down, groaning in pain, as they proclaimed they were blind, deaf, or choking.

And those were the fortunate ones, for you never heard the others again.

Pin’s world was green, yellow, and gray mixed on a devilish canvas. You couldn’t cut gas in two. If you tried to dodge, it suddenly blew at your back. His body burned again. He pressed his beak together against the pain.

The parrot flapped his wings in a weak effort to blow back the gas. He was no match for an army of magic eagles.

Dannis asked for Pin, yelled for his friend, begged for mercy. His tail felt cut off. He didn’t dare look or breath, afraid to inhale the gas, afraid to let it blind him.

Nobody heard him, drowned out by the screams of an army.

Anybody who could still walk went the same direction: away. Leave this place.

“Pin!”

“Dannis!”

They had to be in close range, but couldn’t see each other. Dannis was nearly trampled by a skulk of foxes running with eyes closed.

He fell on his back. Panic stiffened his body. He’d forgotten how legs worked, how anything worked.

Pin’s body was exhausted. His voice was broken. His longs seemed to shrivel and when he called for his friend, only a crackling whisper came out.

His left wing felt something. He recognized it instantly, just by touch. Dannis’ tail. He held onto it with all the strength his burned fins still had.

“I am here.”

“I am here, deerfriend.”

The two friends lay together, waiting for death to claim them.

The gas cleared.

The Freethieves’ supply had run out. The final fog spread so thin it lost most of its effect.

Around the battle field erupted red flowers with a black core. They sang. The Singing Flowers of Eeris sounded a lament that would even make the Freethieves cry. Until they were also silenced, their leaves lacking for fresh air.

Dannis and Pin had survived. Most soldiers had survived. They lay in the dirt, badly injured and unmoving.

They lived, but would never heal.

Pin had to be carried. He wore an eye patch in front of his left eye that had gone blind. Their parrot joked that he now looked like a pirate; Pin didn’t find it funny.

The black strap of his helmet had been permanently pressed into his chin, burned into it by the gas. The same was true for many of his species, which earned them the nickname chinstrap penguin. He also didn’t find that funny.

Dannis had lost his voice. Only recently he was able to speak his first sentence again, and he would have performed a victory dance if his body could still dance.

“I ask a final time,” the Ape Lord said. When news of the gas reached him, he instantly traveled to the Frambozi Forest to control the situation. “Give us the formula for the gas. I know you plundered that laboratory.”

Pin looked away and stayed silent.

“You are a soldier, Pin. It would be incredibly stupid to let our enemy keep this advantage. Tell us the formula and we can hit back with our own gas. Make the war fair again.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. Feathers and fables, feathers and fables. Laboratory? What laboratory? That’s not even a word, you’re making it up.”

The Ape Lord sighed. “Dannis has stolen the secret to ammonia from the lab and given it to us. Thanks to him we can make our soil fertile again. Thanks to him, nobody is hungry anymore. Let your best friend be an example.”

Pin and Dannis looked each other in the eye, but could barely see each other.

“I do follow my best friend’s example now,” Pin said. “I don’t have the formula. I thought I had it, but it turned out to be a drawing of a gas mask.”

Pin demanded a paper and pencil. He drew the sketch as well as he could from memory. “I propose you make these masks in bulk. And assume the Freethieves will do anything. Especially as long as they have Bitz.”

The Ape Lord slammed the table. “Darn it, Pin! You leave me no choice. You are both honorably discharged from the army, effective immediately. Better than you deserve; but the others will never stop treating you two as saviors and heroes.”

He placed a medal around Dannis’ neck. He did the same for Pin, but he pushed the commander away.

The penguin raised his wings. “I am going home. Don’t stop me.”

They soon found themselves in an automobile driving home. They drove past fields of grass bathed in sunlight. Past full fields of grain and endless rows of corn.

The process to make fertilizer had been given to all territories of the Godesweets. Because of the abundance of food that could be grown now, the population only grew faster. Until a century ago, there were at most a billion animals on the entire planet. Now, suddenly, that number had doubled.

They joked about the animals they recognized in the clouds. About patterns in the fields of grain that might mean something. Pin confidently claimed they were made by aliens—Dannis confidently scoffed at that. But then he secretly prayed for the godchildren to come back to Somnia and stop all this madness. That they were still alive, just hiding on another planet all this time, and would return to end the Second Conflict tomorrow morning.

Watching the endless fields of grain, Dannis and Pin knew they’d find food when they came home.

They also knew home didn’t mean the same thing for both. An antilope could not live on the Southern Icesheets, and a penguin could not live on the rainy island of Casbrita.

They purposely took the long way home, with many suspicious flat tires and family members in faraway forests they just had to visit.

Also to give Pin the chance to throw away the papers holding the secret of the gas. In a safe place where Godesweets would not find it.

In reality, he’d only delayed them a few years. Then they discovered the secret to the gas themselves and used it too.

Bitz had selected his best glasses, cleaned his fur twice, and practiced his speech ten times over. The war was over. For now, at least.

He reassured himself that there’d always be a next war. The world blamed Doveland for the whole thing and required they pay millions of Soliduri for “reparations” and “peace”. Many Freethieves were already angry about it. Some called the peace treaty nothing but a “pause for twenty years”.

He’d won the Knobbel Prize. For chemistry, for his invention of fertilizer.

He pushed open the doors to the prestigious room, smiling. He looked over the luxurious and decorated hall with … nothing but empty chairs.

Only a lone ape, who handed out the prizes, stood on the stage.

All other scientists, including the winners, did not attend.

“Am … am I too early? Too late?”

Bitz studied himself in a shining piece of crockery, unused. He cleaned his whiskers again.

“You are here. That’s the problem,” the ape grunted. He threw the Knobbel Prize into the air. Bitz had to jump and catch the object before it would shatter on the floor. “That’s that. I’ve officially handed you your prize. Now get out.”

Bitz shook with anger and ran onto the stage. “This is because I’m a Jurad, isn’t it? You must shake my paw. It’s the rules! Rules you invented yourself! It’s only official if you shake my paw.”

He extended his paw, across the edge of the stage. The ape stood frozen like a statue, taller than the beaver and looking down on him.

“I’ve discovered what’s inside the smallest particles on Somnia,” the ape said. “My theory about the atom was revolutionary and opened the doors for many good and useful inventions. Just like your process to create fertilizer.”

The ape stepped of the stage. “I recognize you are worthy of this Knobbel Prize. I won’t shake your paw.”

Bitz was left behind in an empty room. He pressed the Knobbel Prize against his chest, just as Bilara had pressed his gas invention to her chest all those years ago, when she begged him to stop pursuing it.

Apparently it still wasn’t enough. Oh, he heard them talk. Doveland increasingly treated every Jurad as if they didn’t even exist.

He threw himself into his work, even more than before.

A while later, he brought another revolution to agriculture. He made a pesticide: a gas to spray onto plants to keep nasty insects away. Any beast who wanted to take a bite out of your precious crops would be paralyzed. It was so dangerous that he had to add a smell and color to it, otherwise the farmers might miss it. He called it Sikkel-B.

Perhaps he’d learned from his mistakes, perhaps not.

In the six years that followed, he tried to help Doveland pay their debts. He was convinced he could find a process that turned sea water into gold.

He didn’t find it. He lived in fear. Any time now, they might arrest him for his war crimes, but they never did. When the hatred for Jurads reached its peak in Doveland, he had to flee to another country.

He died from a heart attack during the journey.

He didn’t experience how the Second Conflict continued, how war started again, and his invention Sikkel-B would again become its cruel heart.

And so it was that life continued …