Everyone in the world has a gift, though they might not know. You use it subconsciously on others, if you know them well enough. You can see through walls with it or avoid danger while asleep.

The gift? You can tell precisely who is coming just by the sound of their footsteps.

Holog was light and jumped in far leaps. If you heard a soft tap every now and then, you knew he was hopping around your little hut.

Parog was old and shuffled around. If you heard continuous scraping over planks, you knew he was sleepwalking again.

But now Meogg heard something else. Complete silence, a creaking door, a plank nearly split in two, then eerie silence again. She knew exactly what all the other creatures on the ship sounded like.

She did not recognize this sound.

She frog-leaped up to the ceiling, as far away from the entrance as possible. The evening was dark and the sea black. Rocking gently on the waves in her ship, she could not see who entered her room, though she could hear them.

This was no frog. This was no creature she knew. The scraping sounds seemed to come from many places, perhaps hundreds of tiny insects.

But that was to be expected, she reassured herself. Since the Seafarers came and told about the Faraway Islands, she had sat on a ship day and night. Every island was already settled. She had to keep traveling farther from home.

And now they were nearly at the edge of Apra territory. Life here must be quite different from what I know, she thought. And the island we seek must be deserted, because we can’t sail much farther, especially not Parog.

Her black bulging pupils observed the entrance. The next time she heard the strange sound, however, it was behind her.

She was still tired from her leap, but found the energy to spin around and stick out her tongue. She did not taste an insect, but sand.

A sandy being stood before her, his crown touching the ceiling. Two small pits in the face had to be eyes and two arms of sand grabbed Meogg’s face.

“You … want to sleep … sleep … sleep …”

Meogg shook the sand grains off her. She had heard of this mysterious sleeping from other animals before, but had never done it herself.

“You … want to close your eyes … lie on the ground … relax your body … "

“Mostly I want you to get off our ship.”

“Hmpf!”

The creature of sand snorted grains through his nose, right into Meogg’s eyes. She blinked them away, waited a moment, and leaped back up to the ceiling. The sandy creature shrank to about her size and also walked upside down on the ceiling.

He made one last attempt, by conjuring a sandstorm around Meogg that left her with a brown grainy layer on her skin. And a lot of itchiness.

“What are you doing?” asked Meogg calmly.

The creature shook his head. “Hopeless. Bullfrogs are hopeless.”

He changed into a bird of sand and took flight.

“Wait!”

Meogg’s tongue shot at his feet, but of course went straight through the layer of sand. The creature changed into a different bird and flew back.

“Oh yes, indeed, tell no one that you saw me. You’re the first in a very long time, maybe ever, and I’d like to keep it that way. You’re supposed to fall asleep as soon as I come near! Two grains and you’re supposed to be snoring!”

He became a sandy porcupine and studied Meogg head to toe. “I must have tried over a thousand grains on you, on all bullfrogs. And you’re wide awake!”

It slowly dawned on Meogg. “You make animals sleep?”

He turned into a sandy frog and stuck out his tongue, which Meogg circled as way of greeting.

“I’m Claes, the Sand King. I make everyone sleep, even the gods. Although Gulvi, the dolphin, only allows me to put one half of his body to sleep at a time, for he wants to keep his eyes open for danger.”

He briefly turned into a sandy dolphin, before reverting to his sandy frog shape.

“Oh well, everyone sleeps in some way—except bullfrogs. I hoped … well, usually it’s easier if my target is very young.”

“Do other animals know this?”

“No. And I’d like to keep it that way!” Claes’ sand tongue pulled at her legs until Meogg lay flat on the ground. “Does this help? Are you feeling drowsy yet?”

“I don’t know what that is, drowsy.”

“Hmpf! Close your eyes.” Meogg surprised herself by how quickly she listened to this weird Sand King. She closed her eyes. Her world became black and peaceful, which she liked.

“Invent crazy stories. Things that could never happen in real life. And relax!”

Meogg thought about flying elephants. And a tree who could talk, though they apparently did exist long ago. And a land with lamps that burned on their own, without fire or fireflies, which was obviously impossible.

“Are you dreaming yet?” Claes asked impatiently. “This works really well on all the other animals!”

But Meogg just laughed out loud about something she dreamt up. “This is fun!”

“Shh!” He put a sandy finger to her broad, smooth mouth. “One creature knowing of my existence is troublesome enough.”

“Why is that so bad?”

Claes opened his mouth, paused for a moment, then closed it again without saying anything. His form grew until he barely fit in her room.

“I need your help,” he finally said. “You’re on your way to an island.”

“Yeah duh, like we don’t know ourselves.”

“Another ship sails, just out of your sight. They seek the island too.”

“Then we must arrive sooner,” said Meogg immediately. “We can’t sail much longer. Parog is already old. He hardly talks or moves anymore. Please, tell me we’ll be there first? Tell me the island is deserted?”

“Sorry, you’ll arrive too late. You take too many breaks and they have the legendary adventurer Olombos.” Claes briefly transformed into a fuzzy teddy bear to comfort Meogg. “But we can change that!”

“How? Do you control the sea as well? That would be so awesome.”

Claes deliberately conjured sandy eyebrows, just to frown. Meogg quickly switched between sorrow and joy, as if she were two different frogs at once, and he waited a long time before answering.

“This is a very important mission, Meogg. You have to take this seriously.”

Meogg fell silent and anxiously looked around. Then she threw a cloth over the entrance to her room, hiding the conversation from any others. Who, being bullfrogs, would all be awake as well, even at midnight.

“The island you seek,” Claes solemnly stated, “is deserted, but not without reason.”

“Oh no. It probably stinks. Or the floor is lava.”

“Serious, Meogg. This is a serious mission.”

“Yes, of course, sorry.” She heard tapping on the floor above her.

Their ship was a standard model, made for large mammals instead, which meant they rebuilt the ship as they went. It wasn’t long, it was tall. Blocky homes, like apartment buildings, were constructed on the deck and pointed at the moon. This way, you could reach everything with frog-leaps. Such as Meoggs room on the first floor, the rudder on the third floor, and the lookout post at the sixth floor.

Morning arrived. Holog, on the second floor, became active.

“Speak quickly.”

“That island was the site of Cosmo’s Final Flight. Everyone present was blown off the island in an explosion of air. They thought it cursed and never returned.”

“And is it still cursed?”

“It was never cursed. But Olombos knows the truth, or at least the part that matters. He knows a secret weapon lies there which could lead to the extinction of all birds. According to legend, the very last Dodo egg lies there! And it is crucial that we find it first.”

Claes was used to the ever-present voice in his head, and it was a female voice with a warm tone, but that didn’t make it any less annoying. Let Olombos sleep all day, it repeated four times.

Send your little sand creatures to Apra, it continued. The Sand King turned into a dolphin and jumped from Meogg’s ship to slice through the surface of the water without a splash. Swimming towards Olombos’ ship, he sent messages to his little sand creatures.

Some were overjoyed about the Apra, who had taken control of nearly half the world and were trying to come up with fair laws. Like the Law of First Landing: the creature that first sets foot on a territory claims it. That could save Meogg’s family, if they arrived first.

Others would rather see the Apra disappear into a hole in the ocean, along with their endless rules.

Sometimes the voice in his head didn’t even use words. She’d frustrated about something and he only received aaaaaargh. Like right now.

“What’s the matter?” he asked aloud. After all that time, he refused to have any more conversations in his own head, and she could hear him everywhere anyway.

The birds. They’re also on their way to that island, because someone was so stupid as to leave half the map lying around.

Claes tried to pretend he knew nothing about it. But the voice had created him, saw everything inside him, knew every grain of his sand—and could only sigh.

“You try holding a map with sandy claws! It’s hard enough that I now have to find the Dodo egg with half a treasure map.”

Your fault. Do the crime, do the time. You were sleeping during the mission briefing.

“I fall asleep at your humor.”

Once at Olombos’ ship, he jumped out of the water and turned into a salamander that stuc to the hull. Two wild boars stomped across the deck, grunting at ghosts. At least, that’s what Claes always assumed, since he saw no other reason why they would snort and make noise out of nowhere.

He crept over the edge, through the shadow of the great mast, leaving a trail of sand leading to Olombos’ quarters.

As sunrise arrived, captain Olombos stepped outside. A dark-gray, wild boar with washed hooves and snout, whose weight made the planks creak and quiver. Olombos was already large, but after his first successful voyage there was no limit to his hunger, both for food and for gold.

All the more reason to stop him and make his second voyage fail, he thought. Or said the voice in his head. He could no longer tell the difference.

He burst into five innocent little piles of sand. Olombos eagerly stomped on the first, on his way to the helm.

A place he never reached, for he fell asleep right there, on top of the Sand King.

Mission accomplished, now scram.

“I’d love to,” he whispered with a muffled voice, “but—”

The other boars ran to their captain. Apart from this crew, Olombos had also picked up some foxes who fortunately moved around less noisily. Claes pulled at his grains of sand until he had regained control of most of them, then turned into a brown cannonball. With the next swell of the ship, he rolled away from the scene.

“Olombos? Captain?” some concerned boars called out.

They tried pushing him onto his side with their snouts, but Olombos was far too heavy. He snored, sunk in a deep sleep that would surely last a day. Claes was satisfied and thought maybe he could also make those birds sleep for a while.

Until a couple of foxes just shrugged and took the helm themselves. They hoisted the sails, steered, and perhaps even made more progress than before.

Olombos finally rolled onto his side. The boars saw the grains of sand on the floor and nudged each other.

“I always get that too! After a long sleep, I have to shake sand grains from my eyes in the morning.”

“But it’s morning now. And Olombos is sleeping like a baby boar.”

“Oh well, Olombos never did much anyways. We’re all still awake.”

They let Olombos snore in the middle of the ship and temporarily made themselves captain.

Yes, the crew is still awake. Claes already understood. He followed the boars to the galley, now shaped like a light brown barrel that could walk. In the kitchen of the ship, slabs of meat were laid out, ready for preparation.

Most importantly, no one else was there. Claes tipped onto his side and thundered over the two boars as a rolling barrel. They wouldn’t get back up any time soon.

“Do I have to put everyone to sleep?” Claes whispered.

If necessary. Claes growled and shook his head, as if that would make the voice go away for a bit.

“Allow me to wreck their ship. Please? Just this once?”

No, and you know why. You are the god of sleep and restoration, the OPPOSITE of destruction.

“Gods should have freedom!” he shouted.

Too loud.

A group of foxes entered the galley and glared angrily at Claes. As a barrel, he might have gotten away with it, but he was currently his own, true shape. A round head, with round thick arms and legs, and dimples to suggest a face, like a decorated gingerbread man.

“By Feria’s tail!” the foxes shouted. “Intruder! Intruder!”

It’s been a while since I heard that name, said the voice in his head, seeming pleased with these words. Claes, however, was certainly not pleased.

As if on cue, they simultaneously jumped at him, biting without hesitation. Claes felt nothing, of course, but was now a figure with holes in his arms and legs. He wanted to change into a lion or tiger.

With the grains he had left, though, a mouse was the only solution. He scurried between the tables, past the barrels full of meat and fish, to a hole in the wall leading to the bilge.

A boar gave a speech, standing on a soaked carpet. He was surrounded by foxes who were either hanging to his lips or absentmindedly picking at their nails.

“We’re almost there, mates!” the boar said. “A great treasure, the birds gone for good, all thanks to Olombos!”

“And yet he never says what the treasure is,” said a fox in the corner.

No one noticed Claes, not as long as he hid behind the crooked tree trunks that served as sitting places. To reach the exit, he unfortunately had to get past the boar.

“According to the rumors, the very last egg of the Primal Bird lies there!”

“Then don’t we actually want it to not hatch? Because we hate birds?”

She sounded as if she had just randomly boarded a ship without understanding what they were doing. Another fox agreed with her. “I think it’s all a terrible plan. I say we sail on.”

“Maybe. We could break the egg and destroy it! But if we get such a powerful bird on our side, we’ll be the masters of the skies. Then we are … then we are …”

His eyes fell shut. His audience had already found his speech rather soporific.

Claes slowly gathered more grains of sand. They were everywhere, certainly on ships that often came ashore. His mouse grew into a rabbit, then a dog, and then into a tiger.

He ran onto the deck, now chased by everyone. A fox climbed down from the mast, but fell asleep and wrapped himself in the sails like a mummy. Three boars turned a wheel to weigh anchor—but anchors are heavy. Not long after, three sleeping boars spun faster and faster, while the anchor sank back to the bottom of the sea.

The edge was in sight, but the foxes cut him off again. One popped up right next to him.

“Grab him! He’s putting us to sleep!” was the last sentence the fox would utter for some time.

Paws, teeth and tails lashed out at him. For this one time, he was glad the voice controlled him and that he had no real body. It didn’t hurt him and he kept enough grains to rise up, just like the Primal Birds of the past.

For he had experienced them and would actually like to see them return. But if they merely think the island has one egg of an extinct bird lying around and nothing more, he thought, they underestimate its power.

Flying, he saw that Olombos’ ship moved at least twice as fast as Meogg’s. The bullfrog’s ship seemed pulled by a snail, or as if it was being held back. If they didn’t change something quickly, the bullfrogs would arrive much too late.

Meogg still didn’t quite understand her encounter with Claes, but she did know what she had to do. She told her whole family to work much harder. Even if, dear reader, it wouldn’t look that way to an outsider like you. An outsider who could sleep, whereas the bullfrogs could not.

Every few minutes, Holog leaped up again to grab the rope of the sail. By pulling it down, the sail rose higher and tighter, catching more the wind.

“Faster! Faster! We have to fully hoist all the sails!”

Meogg jumped around to do everything herself, if need be. She was dying to tell the others about Claes, but didn’t want to ruin the mission by revealing him.

“I can’t go any faster!” her brother said. “Or do you want me to jump myself to death!?”

Her brother was the strongest member of the family, able to leap forcefully with his long legs and smooth forehead. His skin shone yellow like the sun and his forehead had a purple dot right between his eyes.

“Then try jumping twice a minute.”

“What a demanding little sister I have.” He already prepared for the next jump.

Meogg left to visit the high lookout post. Because they were frogs, they had built the ship vertically, with many floors stacked on top of each other. On her way, therefore, she passed by Parog’s chamber on the fifth floor.

“We’re almost there, grandpapa,” she said cheerfully. “We just have to work really hard for a little bit.”

He didn’t respond. His large leathery skin might as well have been made of stone. Half-closed eyes tried to look at Meogg, but mostly slid aside.

“Is that you? Ninog?”

“No, grandpapa.”

Her grandmama had died ten years ago, when they first had to flee from the emerging snakes. A fact they had told him over and over, but would probably never sink in.

“It’s me, Meogg. Come downstairs. As soon as we get there, you have to go ashore quickly. Then we’ll find a warm little spot, with lots of food. We never have to feel moving planks under our feet again.”

“Land? The land is gone. The land lies. Lamp. Did you say lamp?”

“Parog, what are you saying?”

The conversation was over. He turned around and looked out the other window. As he mumbled words, she used her tongue to pull a piece of curtain over his back like a blanket.

“It will all get better once we’re there,” she whispered as she left.

Claes’ remarks, however, made her doubt. Parog had been awake, permanently, for hundreds of years. How was he going to recover? How would his mind rest?

She leaped up to the highest floor and looked in the direction into which Claes had flown. For the first time, she saw a silhouette of Olombos’ ship. An impressive ship, with many more sails, and zero tall vertical buildings.

She realized. He was helped by the wind—they were hindered by the wind. No wonder we kept sailing slower and slower, Meogg thought. And that they don’t build ships vertically.

She looked down. It was a choice she didn’t want to make. But if the next island didn’t work out … where would they go? The food was gone. They all wanted mud under their sticky feet, and leaves, and branches. She had promised Parog they would find a beautiful island. She had hoped that the grandpapa of old, with a quick mind that told her such wonderful stories, would come back.

It had to happen. She leaped across the sixth floor and pulled the ship apart with her tongue. First came the nails that stuck out so much they were almost useless, because frogs couldn’t use hammers. Then came the planks that were all loose because of that. Finally, the destroyed the rags and the metal tubes that formed the skeleton of the ship.

She flung it all into the water with an elegant flick of her tongue. Until the entire sixth floor was gone. Parog looked up through the hole in his roof.

“Come, grandpapa. We’re going downstairs! We’re going on an adventure!”

Her front legs hooked into his and she pulled him down the stairs.

“Fire? Where’s the fire? Oh, you have to be careful with fire, you know. Listen, child. Fire is terrible.”

“Adventure.”

“Even if it’s an event, child, that doesn’t matter. Fire is fire. Is Ninog coming to the fire too?”

Meogg pulled him down to ground floor, until he leaned safely against the mast in the middle of the ship. She asked her brother to keep an eye on him, though he looked exhausted from all the jumping.

Her feet trembled; she felt the same. Still, they did what they had to. The fifth floor was torn apart and thrown into the sea. Olombos’ ship neared, no longer a black silhouette, but a brown blur from which she could read the logo on the sails.

The fourth floor disappeared. In her fervor, she nearly threw her parents into the sea as well.

“What are you doing?” her mother, a small frog with red stripes across her back, asked indignantly.

“We have to go faster! These things are holding us back!”

“It’s our home!”

“Once we’re on the island, that will be our home.”

She leaped away. The ship already gained speed. She felt the gusts of wind along her tired skin, something that had been absent for months. Getting rid of the third floor was more difficult, because that’s where they had attached the rudder.

She stopped. Her feet thanked her by completely collapsing and doing nothing anymore.

What am I doing? she thought. If we don’t managed to claim the island, we have no where to go. And I just destroyed our seafaring home.

A sandy bird landed on her head.

“Olombos is going very fast for someone who’s sleeping,” said Meogg.

“My mission wasn’t … entirely successful,” said Claes quickly. “I see you’re making more headway.”

“I only have one question: are we on course for the island? Do we no longer need to adjust course?”

“Um, yes, approximately, not ideal but—”

Meogg tore the rudder loose and hurled it straight through the Sand King, who burst apart just in time burst, into two separate animals she didn’t recognize.

“I understand you’re frustrated, but—” Claes fell silent again, showing the same absent look as before in her room. Not much different from how Parog had been staring blankly for ten years now. “Ah, I see what you’re doing.”

Together, they tore away the third floor and soon after that the second floor. The sails billowed in the wind. Claes climbed to the highest point he could find and morphed himself into a sandy sail.

Their ship approached the coast rapidly, which blew all the frogs off their feet. They rolled against the edges of the ship as they bounced over the last waves.

The ship shot into the sand, point first, as if spearing the island with a fork.

Which turned the vessel into a springboard. It launched all the frogs and the remnants of the first floor. After a short flight, they tumbled through bright green ferns and palm trees.

Claes stood in the sand and quickly grew, a broad smile on his face, until he was taller than the trees. After which he realized—far too late—that he had revealed his existence to absolutely everyone.

They had arrived in a cove, hidden from the outside world. Their ship would certainly not sail again. And Olombos’ ship was on the other side, out of their sight.

Meogg could only hope that her family were the first to arrive.

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.

A tree spun out of the ground like a catapult and fired Holog. Meogg leaped, but didn’t get high enough. Claes himself became a tree and positioned himself exactly where Holog would fall.

The worst was yet to come. A second tree, right next to where Holog landed, turned into a catapult and fired a heavy rock at the bridge. Meogg saw it coming but was powerless to stop it. The bridge was crushed and fell into the ravine as a rain of splinters.

Claes sighed. He set Holog down after a very long angry stare.

“Now we have to go around. Quick march! Quick march!”

The frogs hopped after the Sand King like rabbits. Parog couldn’t keep up. Maybe he could, but didn’t want to. Meogg had to pull and push to keep him with the group. The frogs asked for a break every five hops, but never got one.

Sometimes Olombos’ laughter or shouts echoed across the island. He’s on his way to the middle island from the other side, Meogg thought. And he sounds close, much too close.

“Not to be rude,” said Meogg, “but can’t you just fly and search for the treasure from above?”

“The security is not just on the ground. No one can fly above this island. The voice in my head is even convinced no god, or descendant of a god, can find the secret weapon. Otherwise she would have done so long ago.”

So that’s why he needs us, she thought.

Her body felt strange. The Sigri plant did indeed help with energy. They had jumped more in one day than ever before. After a while, however, it felt like she lost control of her body. Each leap went in the wrong direction and her vision became blurry.

Claes noticed and stopped as soon as evening fell. “We’ll take a short break.”

“The Sand Creature has seen the error of his ways! Praise be—” Holog shouted.

“As soon as we’re certain Olombos’ group is asleep, we’ll continue.”

Holog’s face darkened again. Claes became a sandy horse and let Meogg onto his back.

I wouldn’t mind a break either, she thought. Each time she did, however, her gaze turned to Parog and her family who had fled for so long already. This was the island. They would claim it, and for that they now had to win a race.

Claes walked calmly between the dark tree trunks, aiming for the place that emitted snoring sounds. Mixed with the snoring, however, Meogg heard something else. A rushing, a humming, something she couldn’t place. It didn’t sound like the footsteps of any animal she knew, nor like the wings of an insect. And besides, nothing can fly here, right?

“Duck!” she shouted.

Claes immediately did as she asked. A moment later, Meogg felt the heat of a gust of wind on her head. Now that she knew what it was, she heard another go off behind them.

“Climb that tree!”

Claes became a monkey and nimbly took her up into the canopy, among the coconuts on long green leaves. The next gust of wind swirled around the trunk and bent the palm tree far aside, but they bounced back before the trunk broke.

Claes laughed at her. “Sometimes the voice in my head is right after all.”

“How so?”

“Cosmo had the best hearing of any creature to ever walk this planet. No wonder his security works almost entirely on sound. And you’re one of the few animals who heard me come in.”

Meogg slowly understood he was complimenting her hearing. She laughed back. They continued their trek toward Olombos’ camp.

“Our initial plan was to ask the birds for this mission. They revealed that they already tried, but couldn’t fly here. Now … they’re coming anyway.”

The birds are coming too? Meogg thought. Soon this island will be ours, but we’ll have to share it with the whole zoo! Well, at least they sleep half the day, and we don’t need to.

“How did you become the Sand King anyway? Do you know who the voice in your head is?” Meogg quickly raised her front legs apologetically. “I know, I know, you can’t answer that because of the voice. Never mind.”

“I can answer part of it.” They paused a good distance outside the camp. “When the gods had just created life, there was no sleep. Everyone had endless energy! They wanted to swim, eat, reproduce all day, everything! But their bodies couldn’t handle it.”

Meogg gradually learned how to read Claes’ sandbody language. His eyes were now sad, even as they confidently watched the sleeping Olombos. “They broke down their own bodies. They kept going too long and never recovered. I started as an invention against the hasty gods, but quickly turned into the God of Sleep.”

She had never thought about sleep; now she got the idea something was wrong with her and her kind. Why didn’t they need it? Were they better than the rest … or actually worse?

“I see it in your grandfather, Parog,” said Claes after another long absent look. “His head is so full with everything he’s experienced over a hundred years. He never slept, never had the chance to process anything, or for his body to figure it out.”

Meogg barely dared to ask. “Can that still change?”

“Shh,” Claes hissed. Some boars woke up. They grabbed torches and walked around. The island had many round clearings, marked by stone eggs growing skyward like blades of grass. Olombos had set up his camp right in the middle of such a spot.

“You could have dragged me a bit more gently,” the front boar complained.

“You’re as heavy as Olombos himself. Be glad we didn’t leave you on the ship. And you snore!”

The other placed a wooden plank on his lower teeth and soon after a second against his upper teeth. What’s that? Meogg thought.

Claes blew small clouds of sand at the guards. The boar regularly clacked his teeth together, like the snapping of a beak. The wooden planks created small gusts of wind that pushed the grains of sand back to Claes.

He tried again, but Olombos had devised the perfect solution against the Sand King. He couldn’t put everyone to sleep if his sand was blown away all the time.

“Now it’s your turn,” he whispered.

“You’re not one to explain a plan in advance, are you?”

“Meogg, we’re on a magical island with half a treasure map. There is no plan. Chase them away, make them run.”

He nudged Meogg. I’m doing this for you, grandpapa, she thought.

Her big leap toward the camp was impressive. Her habit of pausing right after any activity was less useful.

The boars dove on top of her with wide-open mouths. She jumped into the air, but hit a palm tree and came down covered in leaves and surrounded by falling coconuts. She had a headache, but so did the boars.

The guards ran away from her, yelling. She was blind, but heard a gust of wind on the right and instinctively ducked away from the leg that swooshed past. Her feet fired off again to knock even more coconuts loose. On the way down, she kicked a coconut to the left, where she heard heavy panting.

With her tongue, she pulled the leaves from her eyes. She had hit Olombos right in the face! The other boars ran away from the camp, scattered in all directions. Meogg just kept jumping up and appearing unexpectedly on their rough fur or orange fox snouts.

No one got far, because Claes waited between the bushes to make them sleep. Boar after boar shook the earth as they hugged the ground with eyes closed.

One fox climbed the tree. Claes got her too, after which she hung upside down from a palm tree, by her tail. Four boars raced back to Meogg. The front one fell asleep and became a barrier for the other three, who tripped and got their tusks stuck in the mud.

But there were too many.

Claes had to spread out and use his grains expertly to reach everyone. Meogg really had to rest now and hobbled to the nearest bush. Olombos jumped on top of her with his heavy body, but Claes intervened like as a spear of sand that jabbed the boar aside.

He had overextended himself. All the sand grains fell to the floor, as if they needed sleep as well. The secret objects that Claes carried, rolled right into Olombos’ claws.

“That’s an interesting map, just what we need,” he said grinning. “And an interesting plant, I recognize it out of thousands. And it fetches thousands of gold in my homeland too.”

Olombos bent his front legs, as if he was going to whisper a secret in their ear. “So kind. After your awful actions on our ship, you bring the precise medicine. We wandered around aimlessly, hoping for a stroke of luck. But with the map …”

Claes pulled himself together. In Meogg’s shape, though ten times larger, he made a desperate leap at Olombos. He covered him with grains. But Olombos had already taken a bite of the Sigriplant and stayed standing.

“Come! Up, everyone! No rest until we’ve found our treasure!”

The group handed out the Sigri, broke down the camp, and ran off at full speed.

Claes and Meogg walked back in silence. Meogg’s stomach rumbled. If insects didn’t fly past you—for nothing flew here—they were much harder to catch with your tongue. She chewed on some leaves. It didn’t help, but she had to do something. They already have every advantage. Why should we still make an effort?

She expected the Sand King to immediately grab everyone by their necks and command we travel even faster. Instead, he calmly sat down against a tree.

“Rest,” he said. “You can stave off sleep for a long time, but it always catches up eventually. Unless death comes first.”

“But …”

Meogg saw him fighting the voice in his head, continuously changing shape, changing his mind.

“I wanted to go too fast. Always too fast. I should have known better. Sooner or later they have to sleep. Sooner or later they’ll make a big mistake from fatigue, or destroy their own bodies due to the Sigri.”

He smiled again.

“They are faster … then we’ll just have to be better rested and smarter.”

All night they had thought, sometimes silently for hours, sometimes discussing. Claes repeatedly said they should close their eyes and relax.

At first, Meogg thought he was trying to make bullfrogs sleep again, which was apparently his life’s purpose. But that wasn’t it. It helped. He was an expert at animal bodies, the process behind sleeping and resting. Meogg was happy she didn’t have to jump for a bit and kept getting distracted by the funny dreams she imagined.

And when sunrays lit up the frogs, Meogg looked at her family with wide eyes.

She jumped enthusiastically. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”

“Got what? Too much energy?” said Holog. He rubbed his muscular hind legs that were still store from the previous security system he had triggered.

“Imagine you’re Cosmo. Attackers are coming for you. Attackers with four legs, big prey animals. And you’re a bird … on an island where you can’t fly.”

“Sounds inconvenient, doesn’t it?” said Claes. “Maybe he made an exception for himself.”

“But if that was so, he could have just flown away, right?”

The others nodded. “So he has to run. But those four-legged creatures would be much faster than him. So how did he stay ahead of them?”

Animals have always underestimated the gods, said the voice. But that little frog of yours might be right.

“Using the security systems.”

“But we just learned a lot of security didn’t trigger. That he had to activate them himself, so was hindered by them too.”

The Sand King turned into the animal with the best eyes he knew: the Gosti, little monkeys with eyes as big as their brains, and predecessors of the Apra. The folk that, hopefully, found this island very soon and would join their side.

“You think he had … a secret passageway?”

Meogg nodded. “And you’ll only be able to find the entrance by sound.”

And now, said the voice in his head, I want you to stop criticizing my decisions all the time! You and the bullfrogs will win this race.

“It seems plausible,” Claes mumbled. “Going in circles seems the only way, like a long spiral that slowly leads to the center. If you could go in a straight line, you’d be much faster.”

The group hopped on, though at a slower pace than before. Parog regularly stopped walking altogether, until Claes saw no other option than to carry him in his sandy hands.

All eyes and ears were directed to their right side. A wall of trees and rocks, too high to jump over, too dense to go through. Unless you had a sharp knife and buckets of patience. Somewhere, somehow, they felt there had to be a secret path to the center.

This continued, seemingly for ages, until Claes saw a landmark that he recognized. We’ve almost walked a full circle, he thought. Maybe we’re off track.

That’s when he noticed Meogg was no longer with them. He spun around in fright and saw her small shape hanging upside down from a palm tree, hundreds of meters back.

“Water!” she shouted. As Claes neared her, he heard it too. The soft babbling of a brook. A rushing that you immediately forget, that can always be in the background without noticing.

There was no brook here. They were far from the coast and hadn’t seen a drop of water in a while. Claes and Meogg placed their ears against the wall and followed it to where the sound seemed louder.

Meogg jumped on top of a protruding rock. Claes immediately recognized the three scratches again, now knowing it was Cosmo’s claw.

Here goes nothing, he thought. He took a running start at the wall and, at the last moment, turned into a massive block of sand, compressed to something tougher than granite.

The explosion pushed all the frogs backward. But the wall remained intact; only Claes lay scattered across the ground and against palm trees.

Until drops of water got involved. Tiny streams came through the wall, thanks to the small holes Claes had made. They led them to a spot several meters further, where the water was sucked back into the wall.

Meogg knocked once on the rock.

It opened a gateway.

“Slowly, slowly,” Claes said as the frogs happily leaped ahead at full speed. “We don’t know where the path goes next.”

The warning didn’t come a second too late. Around the corner, the brook already turned into a rushing river, and a few trees later it was a churning sea through a deep ravine. The bridge to the other side looked as if it had just been built and never used.

I don’t trust it, Claes thought. Even if a bridge was never used, after all those years it would be weathered and discolored.

He crawled onto the pillars holding up the bridge. These, too, were so spotless that he left the first scratches. I may be able to save myself, but the frogs will be lost if they fall.

“He never came this way,” he said. “We have to—”

“Yes he did.” Meogg pointed with her tongue at the pillars on the other side. A tuft of feathers stuck to it, roughly cut from a wing by a protruding tip. The feathers were huge and colored exactly like Cosmo’s. “This is the way.”

Do it, said the voice. Olombos is nearing. You’ve lost a lot of time already.

Claes shook his head and wanted to walk away. The voice now took over his body too and steered him onto the bridge instead. The frogs followed.

“If something goes wrong, I don’t know if I can save you.”

“Nothing will go wrong,” said Meogg, who had to push Parog along at the back of the line, otherwise he wouldn’t walk anymore.

She whispered to him. “Just a few more steps, grandpapa, and then we’ll be at the heart of the island. Oh, there’s such beautiful nature there! You’ll see, it’ll really perk you up.”

Claes carefully walked on. He was already halfway across the bridge. The water churned wildly below, but the bridge didn’t even creak under their weight. The bullfrogs stood next to him, bunched up.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!” Parog screamed his lungs out.

He waved wildly, hitting Meogg and knocking her to the end of the bridge. Claes ran back and tried to tie Parog’s legs with sand, but he was surprisingly strong and knocked the Sand King over the edge.

Claes saved himself with a desperate grab at the bridge, but four planks broke off, which soon after took the entire left railing with them.

“Big mistake! Great pain!”

The whole family was needed to hold Parog down, but the damage was done. The rest of the bridge collapsed, plank by plank, like dominoes that slowly tilt over, but will eventually surely fall.

Meogg stood alone on the other side.

“It’s not fair, I don’t understand, it’s not fair,” Parog whimpered.

Then he fell silent, both his voice and his body. He cried while Claes picked up the entire family and leaped back to the other side, which was far closer.

The bridge was gone, broken apart and swallowed. Separated, Meogg could only watch as her family held Parog.

“What’s not fair?” they asked. “What’s the big mistake? Where does it hurt?”

Parog didn’t respond to anything and saw ghosts again. What was a big question to him, remained an even bigger question for the rest.

Claes and Meogg looked at each other.

“Go on without us,” he shouted over the noise of the crashing water. “We’ll find another way.”

The Sand King couldn’t bear to see Parog suffer, or how his family, and even a god, had to helplessly watch. For a broken leg, you had medicine. For a broken heart, you had time.

For a broken mind there was no simple remedy, Bella had always said.

Claes and Meogg stared at each other for minutes, unable to convince themselves to walk on.

Until she shouted back: “Maybe … tell Parog a beautiful story instead.”

Meogg had several things she did not want to encounter alone at night. A wild boar now topped that list. She didn’t know where the beast was, but she could hear it. That endless panting, unnecessary grunting, and of course the clanking of Captain Olombos’ golden chains.

It was as if they wanted the whole world to know they were there. And maybe that was the point, because just a while ago she still hopped through the grass fearlessly, but now she was afraid to take a step. Her thoughts turned to soup. Where are they? How long have I been walking already? One day? Three days?

“The map is clear,” said Olombos. “We must go to the center. These and these spots have deadly dangers, and here is a wall over which we cannot climb.”

“I understand, captain,” said a much softer voice. “But is walking through a path full of broken glass really the only option?”

They are on the other side of the wall, she thought, relieved. Of course they just follow a map and don’t imagine any other routes

Meogg emerged from the shadows and walked on.

“Who’s afraid of a little glass?”

“Sharp glass.”

A loud thud surprised her. She grunted briefly, but Olombos hadn’t heard it.

“I will not be defeated by those bothersome birds. Not for the second time!”

“But there are no birds here!”

“Where a bird is not, it will be any moment. Yes, yes, a well-known saying for a reason.” The group walked on, and each step felt like a small earthquake. Meogg tried to follow along from the other side of the wall.

“I’ve stood on a ship my whole life. I know everything about the compass, the map, discovering new lands. And for all that effort I have one country to my name. One! Almost all the Faraway Islands have been discovered by birds, because they can fly!”

Olombos spat, and even from afar, Meogg found it disgusting to hear. “It’s an unfair advantage. They must have stolen some power from the gods, made a deal with the devil. We’re going to set it right. We threaten to destroy all the Primal Birds’ eggs and—”

“I actually heard those were eggs of the Crystaltiran.”

A fox chimed in as well. “Didn’t somebody say those eggs were from the infamous Ghostbird?”

“Fine. Whatever. As long as there are some eggs to crush or use to my advantage.”

“But,” a boar tried, “the Apra say we can live together with birds, because they have the sky and we have the land.”

“Stop with the Apra nonsense. They’re as bad as the birds that steal all my islands.”

“But if all islands are named after you, isn’t that very confusing? Olombos 1? Olombos 2? Olombos—”

“You have no creativity. My beautiful name is a breeding ground for endlessly many beautiful titles! Olombia. Umboso. Make some effort.”

“Doughnuts,” someone yelled from the back.

He growled. “Too far! Fortunately, it’s not much farther for us. Have another bite of Sigri and we should be there by morning.”

Suddenly Meogg’s legs felt numb. She was distracted by the conversation, too relaxed, and stepped right into a deep hole.

She roared at full volume—as only bullfrogs can—and barely managed to stretch her legs until she could grab the edge of the hole. She flung herself upward.

Immediately, the first tusks started pounding into the wall. Pieces crumbled off. Meogg roared in fear again, then broke into a sprint.

She couldn’t see where her feet landed. She just had to hope there were no more defenses, hope her tired legs would make it one more time.

Why would Cosmo secure his secret passage? she thought, before pushing away all thoughts. Now there was only the long way up towards the center of the island, and the boars behind her.

Olombos broke through the wall.

For now, they were tiny orange dots far below her, sluggish beasts with torches in their mouths. But she was a small frog whose legs could barely move anymore.

The wall made a sharp turn. She couldn’t slow down in time. She turned, hit the wall with her back, and immediately rolled along.. Something shifted inside the wall.

Suddenly, a razor-sharp stone spike stuck out just above her.

She jumped back down and used the trees to propel herself, zigzagging through the forest, but always moving higher. The boars crept closer, mostly because they could see where they were going.

Meogg felt it in everything. She couldn’t keep this up. Her left leg didn’t want to straighten anymore, so she jumped with her right leg and could only go left. After three hopeless circles, terrible stomach cramps threw her off balance.

She roared in panic and frustration.

A moment later, the roar came back to her ears.

Holog? Family? she thought, but it didn’t sound like them. It sounded like herself.

Then … I must be in some kind of cave, she thought. She roared again—another echo. She made one final leap upward, without looking, and stuck out her tongue to the top.

She got stuck to a rock.

Quickly, she rolled up her tongue and then her whole body. Disregarding the pain, she clung to the ceiling. My body is falling apart, she thought. Claes was right. Sleep will get you, if death doesn’t come sooner.

If the boars won the race, however, the same fate awaited.

Captain Olombos entered the cave. He looked forward, left, right, but not up. Five boars now stood right underneath her.

One walked into the dark and quickly returned. “This cave is a dead end.”

“That loud bullfrog is here. Find her and torture her until she tells us everything, and gives up their claim to the island.”

A fox stood in the opening and her coat shone beautifully in the torchlight. It was unbelievable that such beautiful beasts, designed by the gods themselves, would partake in something so cruel. “She’s not in the grass or against the trees either. I think there must be a secret path the other way.”

The entire group gathered in the cave. It was only a matter of time before they would look up. And then it would be over, her body made that very clear.

If I … if I distract them, keep them busy just a little longer, she thought. I’ll give my family more time. I’ll give Parog more time.

She let out a roar, but it was a weak one, drowned out by Olombos’ gravelly voice.

“Fine! We move that way.”

The group stepped out of the cave. Meogg breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed so much she nearly came loose.

The last fox looked up. She winked at Meogg and hurried out of the cave as well.

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.

You must understand, dear reader, that these gods weren’t all-knowing. They were children, suddenly placed on a world they had to lead. No one knew Cosmo was secretly gathering eggs of all kinds and storing them here, except for a few birds who eventually found out. And on that day of the Final Flight, he faced a choice. He decided to choose the Egg Cave and give up his life.

“We’ll seal it off and pretend we never saw this,” said Claes.

“Is there … is there really no way to bring these birds back to life? The dodo could return!”

“Probably,” said Claes. “But not by us and not now.”

Dust fell from the ceiling again. Boar feet searched for an entrance to the blue cave above. The place Cosmo had given up to keep the Egg Cave secret.

“What’s up there, Claes?”

Meogg looked at him intently. Her body was in unbelievable pain. Her ears picked up a buzzing, hissing sound, like a thousand angry trapped bees. She felt she had the right to know everything. “What are we going to do?”

“What Cosmo couldn’t do alone.”

Claes turned into a roaring cheetah. “We protect both the Egg Cave and the Blue Stone, also known as Cosmo’s Soul.”

Claes’ cheetah was so big and lifelike that the boars didn’t know what was coming at them. He had leapt from tree to tree, without looking down, until he reached the cave. They battered the door, but hadn’t get in yet.

Two boars immediately fell asleep. One was just helping another climb up, when he dozed off. Together, they slid back down the slope like a sled. The rest could still resist him, but were weakened to the extent that they could only drag themselves over the ground on two legs, or were awake but with eyes closed.

The husk of a Sigriplant lay empty on the ground.

At the edge of the cliff, a fox quickly looked around and then subtly kicked a boar over the edge with her hind leg. The beast rolled down the slope, like a brown grunting barrel, in a straight line headed for the beach.

Claes raced towards the foxes, and they towards him, but they did their best not to touch each other. He still accidentally put two foxes to sleep, just by coming near.

So they didn’t take any of the Sigri, said the voice. Then we must be even more careful.

Arcing high above each fox, he leapt towards Olombos. With his mighty tusks, befitting his large size, he repeatedly struck the rock. The opening had reached its breaking point.

A crack appeared with a thunderous sound. Not much later, the crack split into three cracks. When Claes reached Olombos, the opening shattered into dozens of fragments.

He grabbed the boar’s legs, but Olombos was too heavy for his sand hands and easily stayed upright. His eyes closed briefly, but he remained awake.

He stepped inside.

Claes jumped up and changed back into a solid square. Gravity brought him down hard on Olombos’ head, who roared loudly and could no longer walk straight. He swung his tusks and pierced Claes. A pile of sand fell into the cave opening like spilled tea.

The foxes! They have to help now! cried the voice.

“Foxes, it’s time,” said Claes with difficulty. He shoved Olombos aside, in his regular form, but it was barely a threatening blow.

The foxes ran at Olombos like spears. Claes quickly climbed over the cave wall to prevent putting them all to sleep. They surrounded Olombos, took away any retreat, and simultaneously battered his sides.

His front legs slid out from under him and he tilted. But he found his balance just in time. He shook the sand from his head, threw two foxes off the cliff, and yelled: “I will punish this betrayal!”

He stood in the glowing blue cave. Claes followed.

As soon as he touched the opening, he was blasted away, as if a geyser went off that specifically targeted him.

“So gods really can’t go in,” said Claes sadly.

Cosmo’s Soul lay at the end of the cave. Large, glowing blue shards were scattered roughly in the shape of a bird, though parts seemed missing.

Olombos ran for it. If the boars gained any of the Soul’s power, the world will never be the same.

“What now!?”

I think … this is where we say goodbye, mumbled the voice.

Before Claes could respond, it felt like his sand body had lost all energy. Like his head and heart were emptied. For the first time.

It felt free.

It felt lonely.

He turned back into a cheetah and ran through the opening, successfully, surrounded by angry foxes.

Meogg cursed Olombos again. Why did he have to be a huge boar? Each of his steps shook the whole cave and teetered eggs on the edge. It couldn’t continue any longer.

A white egg with red dots fell. Meogg jumped against the wall and shot out her tongue, just far enough to stick the egg to it. Holog jumped twice as far and put his soft feet under a falling blue egg. The impact was hard, but the egg stayed intact.

Her father and mother hopped over the ceiling. Three small eggs, all yellow and shiny, bounced off each other and flew into the air at the next boar stomp. Two meter-long frog tongues shot like arrows at the eggs.

But because of that, they missed the third.

Meogg again summoned strength in her broken legs and jumped underneath the egg. It bounced aside gently and came to a stop against the wall.

A loud bang sounded above them. Meogg thought a thunderstorm had broken out, but the sun shone warmly.

Even more eggs fell from the top shelf. Holog, Meogg and her parents all shot out their tongues and formed a sticky spiderweb across the entire cave, all equally spaced apart, which caught the eggs like a pouch.

With each egg, however, the web of tongues had to carry a heavier load. Their legs trembled, Meogg’s the most.

She couldn’t take it anymore. Her tongue came loose.

She already closed her eyes for the splattering eggs that would follow.

But none fell.

Parog had stuck out his tongue and held up the entire web, standing on the cave floor. His eyes were closed and relaxed, but Meogg saw his body trembling.

Carefully, they lowered the web until the eggs could roll over the ground without damage.

Where a boar foot blocked them. Two pitch-black hairy legs led to two grinning faces.

“Look what we found here.”

“Tasty snacks, laid out just for us.”

Meogg’s whole family jumped at the first boar. Their web of sticky legs and tongues held his mouth and eyes shut, but the second boar saw no issue with fiercely slapping his friend’s face to get it free.

His tusk took a bite from Parog’s hind leg and Meogg’s tongue. The family flew against the cold stone, defeated. The boars licked their lips at the sight of the Egg Cave.

Until two orange tails grabbed their hind legs.

Soon after, these boars paid a visit to the beach.

Meogg heard Claes yell above her. “Don’t touch it!”

Sand scoured across the ceiling, often followed by a pounding tusk or Olombos’ shifting weight. They’re in the cave. I have to help, she thought. Claes can’t do this alone.

While the foxes leapt up again, gracefully along the rivers and ivy as if they defied gravity, Meogg clung to them. She closed her eyes. Her body couldn’t do it anymore. Her skin had split open in many places. Her legs moved randomly, no longer under her control. If she could still open her eyes, she would only see black specks and blurry rocks anyway.

But she precisely heard the moment they reached the top and the wind blew more fiercely. The moment they entered the cave and all sounds echoed.

And so she guessed the moment they were close to Olombos, thanks to his panting and grunting.

With her last bit of strength, she roared deafeningly loud. As only bullfrogs could.

Any boars still standing were held back by foxes. Olombos startled and froze—not for long, but long enough.

Claes shapeshifted into a very flat salamander, crawled over the rock wall out of Olombos’ reach, and landed next to Cosmo’s Soul. There should have been ten shards, but there were five. Claes hoped it was enough.

He touched it.

His sand grains exploded and filled the entire air, like endless snowflakes that never fell down, like a sandy haze covering the island.

Meogg heard a muffled thud. She opened one eye a crack.

Olombos had fallen asleep.

The foxes fell asleep one by one. She looked outside. His sand mist spread over the entire island.

A swarm of birds approached on the horizon, but they lost consciousness in the air and clumsily landed in a treetop.

The grains carried her dying body outside, where she saw the Apra land on the coast, only to immediately collapse and start snoring.

Until she herself, as the very first bullfrog ever, the last remaining animal to ward off the Sand King since the dawn of time, fell asleep.

Meogg knew exactly what everyone’s footsteps sounded like. Claes scoured over the ground. Holog made distant light jumps. The foxes scurried, almost as if they walked to the beat of a song.

But this sound? A mix of graceful walking and hard stomping, on two legs instead of four? She didn’t recognize it.

Meogg opened her eyes. When the Sand King smiled at her broadly, she knew she had slept. And it felt good, as if she could go at it again for the next hundred years. Her body still hurt, but she could use it again and the skin had grown back. She instinctively snapped at a large insect flying by and enjoyed her first bite in a long time.

A gigantic ape next to Claes startled her.

“We heard you helped protect the island.”

“Yes. I think. Is the island protected?” Meogg found it far too confusing that she had now missed a whole part of the day. Maybe even longer! What if I even missed a whole night! Who knows what happened!?

The ape laughed heartily.

“Certainly. Olombos has been sent back home. Most of the boars were heavily wounded, but survived thanks to the sleeping mist. We’ll take them to Apra Realm shortly. Most importantly: the Egg Cave is still completely intact.”

“Oh, but—” She looked at Claes.

He nodded. “The boars and foxes saw it too. There’s no more point in keeping it secret.”

“Instead …” said the ape. He took a bracelet from his forearm and placed it around Meogg’s neck. “You are the official guardians of Porto Volo.”

“Oh, well, what an honor.” Meogg retracted her body until she sat upright in the familiar frog position. “What does it mean?”

The ape looked more serious. “We had some trouble enforcing the Law of First Landing.”

“But we were first. Claes can confirm it!”

“Yes, you came first a few days ago. But the real first inhabitants were of course the birds. By law, the island belongs to them. But they haven’t been here for thousands of years and they were the first almost everywhere. Maybe the law needs adjusting.”

A few doves landed around Meogg. The ape stroked their heads tenderly, as if they were his own children. “I see no reason why foxes, bullfrogs and birds can’t live together on Porto Volo.”

The foxes too? she thought. It mustn’t get any crazier.

The ape stood up.

“Make sure no more pieces of Cosmo’s Soul are stolen. He was god of the sky and space. As you saw, his soul apparently amplifies any power until it forms a magical mist that can hover over an entire island. Work together to keep the Egg Cave intact. Until the moment we figure out how to make the eggs hatch again.”

After the Apra left, Meogg took a break and found her family again. Her brother still slept under some ferns. Her parents stood by the Egg Cave, trying to guess what was inside each egg, although they strongly felt one was missing.

She couldn’t find the injured Parog anywhere.

I need to discuss some things with you, said the voice in Claes’ head.

“And I thought you were gone for good.”

You don’t want me to leave. Claes stayed quiet. Anyway, yesterday almost no animal in the world slept decently. That can’t happen.

“I was a little busy saving the world, okay? My sand puppets can do a lot on their own, but I couldn’t control them for multiple days. I’ve been working for you since … since … literally the start of this world!”

Claes changed into a porcupine. “You can give me a little more trust. I know how sleep works.”

The voice sighed. Fine, fine, I’ll give you more freedom. Swing by again sometime, makes it easier to talk.

“You never told me where you live now.”

The voice paused a long time. You know what, I’ll come to you.

A fox ran up to him and ended this conversation in his head. “Sorry again!”

“What for? Your loyalty to the goddess Feria saved us.”

“That we attacked you on the ship. We didn’t know you … existed.”

“And I’d like to keep it that way. As soon as I leave this island, I’ll go back to my many invisible forms and put animals to sleep unseen.”

The fox grinned. “I’ll be watching every night now though. You won’t fool me again!”

Before she finished the sentence, a grain already landed on her eye to make her sleep. He had nothing against foxes, but he was a busy creature, and there was one last thing he had to do.

A flock of finches flew right over his head. Flying creatures. On this island.

That’s what happened, he thought. There’s a power on this island that forbids flying. But my sleeping mist made everything sleep, even this power. Let’s hope it takes a long time before it reawakens.

He found Parog sleeping in the grass, in front of the blue cave with Cosmo’s Soul. He was surrounded by gorgeous nature, which had regrown immediately.

Most of all, he was surrounded by his family. For his damaged body had not magically regrown.

When Meogg could finally let him go, Claes changed into a winged horse and gently laid Parog onto his back.

The Sand King nodded at the family. “Parog, Meogg’s dear grandpapa, I will tell you a story. And it is so indescribably beautiful. It is a story from a time long, long ago. When I was still called Vaec, an ancient dovish word for sleep.”

He walked to the cliff’s edge and took off. With sleeping Parog on his back, he sought the setting sun in the sky, his voice growing softer.

“The world was still fresh. All plants were in bloom, more than enough space for all animals, and rays of sunlight so warm and good you wanted to catch them in your paw. So you’d never lose them. So you could gift them to everyone you loved. And in that time lived a some very special beings, who acted with grace and kindness, and about them I will now tell …”

And so it was that life continued …