4. The Two Sleepstories

Claes watched in despair as all the frogs had decided to take a break. Again.

Her brother Holog spoke with eyes closed. “Geez, Sand Creature, I’ve jumped more in a couple hours than in the whole past year! We’re going to take a three day break.”

“Make that five days,” Meogg’s father grumbled.

“Five days. Five days away. Five days back.” Parog talked to a palm tree. Or maybe he also saw ghosts, just like the wild boars.

In any case, Claes was done with it. “Once this island is safe, you can rest for all eternity. Now we have to find and protect a secret weapon. If Olombos finds it, he’ll destroy all life on this island, and probably all birds too.”

“It would help,” said Meogg with her eyes closed, legs stretched out, “if you gave more details.”

“I have a map.”

“That’s a start.”

“It’s half a map.”

Meogg rolled her bulging eyes. “Let me see it then.”

You will not, said the stern voice in his head.

“I can’t, sorry,” said Claes.

“How do you expect us to help then? Why won’t you tell everything? I find it suspicious.” Holog pointed his round red fingertips at the sandy teddy bear before him. “You’re a mean little Sandman.”

“He does have a point,” said Meogg with a yawn.

Claes stomped among the frogs, sending grains of sand flying around. “Why don’t you understand!? I can’t make my own choices. I don’t live like you do. Someone controls me.”

“You don’t live?” That piqued the interest of all the resting frogs.

“It’s hard to understand, I know. But I’m a lump of sand that seems to live, thanks to my …”

Kind voice in your head.

“Evil owner.”

I hate you and will now symbolically crush five grains of sand in revenge.

“So what can you tell us?”

“There are only two stories I’m allowed to tell.”

Claes dropped onto a rock and leaned his head on a sandy fist.

“Animals often die in their sleep. When that happens, I take them to the afterlife, not the god of death. If they were good in life, I tell them the most beautiful story they’ve ever heard, an indescribable fairy tale that touches everyone. If they were bad, I tell the most awful story imaginable, a cruel unfair tale that takes away all hope, until you beg me to stop.”

The frogs fell silent. Shouts and grunts from wild boars sounded in the distance.

Parog was the first to speak: “Ninog?”

Claes shook his head. “I’ve tried to make you sleep all my life, but it never worked. I didn’t guide your Ninog to the afterlife.”

“Ninog good. Most beautiful story.”

Claes swallowed and nodded profusely. “Yes, I am sure.”

Parog wanted to sit, but completely missed the rock, which forced Claes to hastily take the shape of an extra rock. This is never going to work, he thought. They don’t understand any of this. Bullfrogs are probably the worst kind we could have chosen.

Or the best, the voice responded. Because they never sleep, while Olombos definitely DOES need to rest at night. You have the advantage of more time.

That gave Claes an idea. He slid Parog over to the real rock and changed himself into a monkey, then swung from palm tree to palm tree. Below him stood dozens of statues of bird species, each more beautiful than the last, askew in the grass. Some were colored, others a dull gray, and one was exactly halfway done. A dodo had its wings painted already, but a broken paintbrush nearby told the rest of the story.

And then he found it: the Sigri plant. An almost invisible brownish green plant with a sturdy shell. He brought it back to the frogs.

“Take a few bites of this and your break will be over. We’ll move on, day and night, something they can’t do. And we’ll find the secret weapon first.”

The frogs studied the Sigri, suspicious, but too curious not to try. Everyone took a little bite, after which Claes quickly hid it in clouds of sand.

“But what is the secret weapon?” asked Meogg.

“Important enough for Cosmo to fill the whole island with security. It’s actually three islands, which look like a bird with wings spread. We’re on the left wing.”

Claes brought out the map from inside his own body, looked for two seconds, and hid it again. He approached a purple-black protruding rock, clearly made of different material than the statues. He hunkered down and tapped it with sandy fingers.

Meogg slid next to him. “Okay, there are scratches on the rock. What does that mean?”

Claes scraped it again. Now Meogg heard it too. A hollow echo, not how a rock should sound.

When she jumped closer, the ground cracked.

“Cracking mud?”

Meogg jumped onto the rock and examined it upside down. Now she recognized the scratches as marks from a bird’s claw.

Claes carefully lifted her off of it. “Cosmo had to flee from his … pursuers. He must’ve went deeper and deeper into the island, activating any security he could find along the way.”

“That rock is hollow on the inside and there are planks under this mud,” said Meogg quickly. She felt the Sigri taking effect, sending a burst of energy through her muscles.

“So we’ll leave that rock alone,” said Claes. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

They continued along a path of trampled flat grass and soon found evidence of Cosmo’s flight. A tall pile of crumbled rocks, decorated with skeletons of what must once have been large predators, and indicated by dozens of arrows in the grass. Further along, a bridge hung over a ravine, in which footprints were still visible.

“A lot of security has already been triggered, but not all of it. And the most important one stays active at all times: hot, fast gusts of air from the geysers that turn on.”

He pointed in the distance, to the middle of the three islands. The landscape there steadily grew higher and rockier, culminating in a peak in the center.

“I only know we have to go that way, across several bridges, looking for a cave with flowing water and a blue glow.”

“And why should we even help you? Geez, go find that weapon yourself, Sandy Mandy,” said Holog. His legs tensed as if he could leap at any moment. Meogg’s father and mother were already leaping, from left to right, without aim, but they seemed very happy about it themselves.

“To prevent things like this,” said Claes, right before Holog could no longer contain himself and flew over his head, landing in the dark woods.

Which, judging by the sound, triggering the next security measure.