8. The Vanished Voice

Claes followed the river and soon found the next clue. The skeleton of a bird lay against a tree trunk, almost peacefully. Pinned down by two arrows, underneath colorful leaves shaped like wings.

“Is … is that Cosmo?” said Holog, eyes wide.

“No. Cosmo is much larger. And according to all the stories, his Last Flight was at the location of his secret weapon, a Dodo egg. I don’t think this tree was his secret weapon.”

“But … this means another bird chased him on his secret route?” Holog still looked at the skeleton as if it could come to life any moment.

“Birds. Multiple.”

Claes pointed at the next row of skeletons lining the path upwards. There, the river ducker under a thick layer of rock. It looked like a natural formation, not constructed by Cosmo, and they walked over it. Except Parog, who refused to walk and closed his eyes. Claes had to carry him again.

“But that means …”

“That Cosmo indeed never used that bridge. He got cut off by the birds and then they followed him this way.”

“Why would birds be angry at Cosmo? He was the big hip bird of the world!”

Claes turned around and firmly grasped Holog. He was back in his true form and ready to explain again that he couldn’t say anything.

But the voice in his head was … gone.

“No commentary?” he whispered.

“Well, uh,” Holog said, confused. “I asked you a question, so—”

“Shh. I wasn’t talking to you.”

Holog crossed his eyes. “Oh yes, that voice in your head. You remain a strange sandy-bandy creature.”

The voice didn’t return. Claes made use of his freedom.

“Much has happened, my boy. Too much to explain. Those two stories I’m allowed to tell are based on the truth. Both the indescribably beautiful and the terribly cruel. I’d rather leave some living creatures’ questions unanswered. Just know that helping me on this mission is the most important thing you’ll ever do.”

A tear of sand rolled down Claes’ cheek.

Holog nodded.

They took the path littered with angular stones in all sizes, as if a giant had casually tossed them about the landscape. The road led to a deep forest. Claes changed into a pocket knife to cut away the vines and thick plant stems, although a sand knife wasn’t the sharpest.

They had almost reached the top. Above them, the cave was clearly visible, but the path towards it was unclear without the crucial map.

Rocks jutted out on all sides. Trees grew as thick as ships and as tall as mountains, and amidst this natural beauty hundreds of streams flowed downhill. A stone beak stuck out, like an umbrella over the grassy field next to it, and a similar stone tail of feathers ran across the ground at the back. Both were half green from all the plants that had dug into them.

Below them lay the three islands. They could see little due to the densely overgrown canopies and many caves, but the path Olombos had walked was clear. Until the moment they broke through the wall, after which Claes could no longer follow the footprints.

It was beautiful to behold. Claes felt that every disturbance of twigs or leaves, every step in the river, meant a desecration of a sacred place. But he also knew Olombos would not have the same restraint. If they saw this, they would stomp through with their boar feet.

So they had to get there first. But how? he thought, certain it was his own thought this time.

The only objects on the grassy field were dozens of pouches. The frog family spread out to inspect them all.

Empty. All empty. Except the last one Claes examined.

A lonely egg waited. This can’t be the secret weapon, Claes thought. It looked like just a regular, old, non-magical dodo egg. If they wanted to hatch this, they needed a dodo to brood it, and those no longer existed. Maybe the voice in my head was wrong after all.

Still, he tucked the egg away deep in his sand clouds. He put all his hope on the contents of that cave. The group looked up at it in awe.

“What I really don’t understand,” said Claes slowly, “is why Cosmo fled towards his treasure. He gave the attackers exactly what they wanted. If he had run the other way, maybe they would never have found that place.”

Parog spoke in a crackling voice. “Treasure. Secret weapon. For birds. Against birds.”

He did his utmost to put the words in the right order. To say what he wanted to say, nearly spitting out the thought. His front leg even drew symbols in the grass, but Claes didn’t recognize them.

“Pain. Pain. Pain,” he mumbled.

Parog looked around, hoping for confirmation from someone. A smile. Someone saying out loud what he was trying to say. When it didn’t come, he fell silent again.

The silence was broken by a roar and shuffling sounds, soon accompanied by the grunts of boars. Meogg was ahead of them,with only a slight lead, and had to drag herself forward using her front legs.

“The foxes are on our side,” she said, panting.

“That’s a very sweet thought, Meogg, but—”

The voice in his head returned, twice as loud as before. I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!

“Explain yourself.”

Claes immediately raised his hands. “I’m talking to the voice, not to you.”

Feria. The foxes still stand behind our dear goddess of animals. Behind the gods … or whatever remains of them.

“They’re delaying the boars as much as possible,” said Meogg. “And they’ll turn coat, against the boars, at the very last moment.”

Turn around at the last moment. Claes repeated it in his head. He laughed and changed into a red panda made of sand.

“We’re not looking for one thing. We’re looking for two things. Cosmo seemed to lead his pursuers to the secret weapon, and his attackers gladly followed, but at the very last moment he turned towards something else.”

Claes walked past the beautiful rivers, which flowed upwards to the cave with the blue glow. The group pretended all this gorgeous nature didn’t exist. As if they were already in the right place.

“Everyone mentions a different kind of bird egg … because we don’t talk about one egg.”

Oh, Cosmo, always with your secret plans within secret plans. The voice in his head seemed to forget he was listening too. It spoke freely, but didn’t command him to do anything.

Claes voluntarily walked around the sacred site and climbed over the stone tail. At the back, the ivy was newer, a brighter green than at the front, and not yet long enough to completely cover the opening.

He easily swept it aside and pushed against a loose rock. Accompanied by the frogs, he watched as the hidden cave opened further at an agonizingly slow pace.

The wait, though, was worth it.

Rows of eggs sat on shelves in the cave, in bright colors, covered in dots or other patterns, rough or smooth, big or small. Rays of sunlight were amplified by shiny eggs in just the right spots. The walls were painted with clouds, stars, a very long staircase, and a collection of drawings that seemed to tell a story.

Dust fell from the ceiling. The boars were actually trying to climb, above them, to the cave at the peak of this island that glowed blue. The thing towards which Cosmo led his attackers—but which wasn’t his true treasure.

You know what’s inside that blue cave above, said the voice, trembling. And you will need it.

I may not be able to go in, he answered. You said so yourself.

You have to try. You are technically not a god.

Claes ignored the insult. He wanted to explore the magical Egg Cave for as long as possible. Here, thousands of extinct animal species slept in the hope that someone would awaken them one day. He took out the dodo egg from his sand clouds and gave it to Meogg to place with the rest.

As soon as Meogg leaped further, a rock fell from the ceiling. A small rock, which safely landed a meter away. It wasn’t a trap.

A single sentence was carved on top: Forgive me dear, the Egg Thief.