Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 71: The Birds and the Bees

Sequestered deep beneath the surface of Tropica, a grin came to Ellis’s face.

“Wondrous...” he said to himself, checking the results again.

He carefully removed the section of bone from the acid with a metal tong, and just as he went to put it in the cleansing mixture, the door was thrown open. Claws dashed into the room, a whirl of energy and fur. She stood there looking frazzled, gesturing out of the room and chirping insistently. It had something to do with… food? Ellis ignored her attempted distraction.

“Impeccable timing!” He scooped her up in his arms. “I was just thinking of getting Theo to bounce my theories off of, but you will do.”

Claws began to chirp something, but he cut her off; he had to put voice to the words lest they bounce around his head indefinitely.

“My original theory—that the spirit beast’s remains offered some sort of protection—were correct! I had thought I was wrong for a time, unable to replicate the conditions as I was.” He lifted Claws up, bringing them eye to eye. “The secret was moisture, Claws! Moisture!” He laughed at himself. “How foolish a mistake—the environment the spirit beast was sealed within, you see? High humidity and low air circulation. I should have started by replicating the same conditions from the get. I suspect it was semi-aquatic, which makes sense why it was located near Tropica Village’s coastal flats. If not for the scales, I would have assumed it to be a species of newt—or perhaps it is, just with a scale evolution it unlocked when taking steps on the path of ascen—”

Claws chirped indignantly, pushing off his chest and trying to get away.

Ellis sighed, shaking his head with a rueful smile.

“I suppose you are correct—I am getting quite off topic.” He let go of her and rubbed his chin. “Where was I...? Ah, yes—the protective properties. When it is exposed to water, it radiates a protective aura. Do you recall how the pickaxes were not as spoiled as they should have been? The metal should have rusted away entirely, the handles turned to dust.”

“Ah, you are as excited as I, Claws? As expected of one of Fischer’s spirit beasts. Your intellect knows no—”

Claws reached into his pocket, withdrew his notepad, and slapped him across the face with it. She chirped again, so loud that the very walls seemed to shake.

Ellis recoiled. “W-what...?”

She chirped again, pointed at the notepad, then out the door.

“There... is there something to record?”

Yes, she chirped, rolling her eyes and sagging her shoulders.

He pouted. “Well, you could have just said that—there was no need to assault me.”

Claws’s eyebrow twitched, and she smacked him with the notepad again.

***

When Claws finally arrived with Ellis in tow, my new pelican pal was having an existential crisis. Both she and Cinnamon sat in my lap, the former staring into space like a shellshocked war vet, the latter rubbing the pelican’s brown plumage with calming repetition.

Ellis halted as he entered the firelight. His brow furrowed.

“That is... not Bill.”

I smirked at him. “Sharp as ever, mate.”

In response, Bill swooped down and landed before me. A pile of fish spilled from his mouth, and he looked at the newly ascended pelican with anticipation. She didn’t respond. I noticed her leaning into Cinnamon’s pets, so I started stroking her too, running my fingers along the back of her head. The feathers there were soft, and she leaned back mere millimeters, but it was enough to tell me she found comfort in my pats.

I glanced back up at Ellis just in time to see the realization strike him.

“The hatchling..?.” he asked, his hand reaching for his pocket.

“Yeah, mate. The hatchling. I gave her some of my chi-enhanced fish...”

Ellis scrawled everything down with exacting detail as I recounted the night’s events. He probed with countless questions; I answered them as best as I could. By the time we finished speaking, the pelican was looking much more sure of herself.

“Are you okay?” I asked, stroking her neck.

She let out a hesitant honk, laden with trepidation.

“There’s no rush.” I smiled down at her. “Take all the time you need.”

She hopped off my lap and shook her body, her feathers fluffing out. When she saw the pile of fish Bill had dumped onto the sand. She slowly turned toward me, the question clear in her body language.

I laughed. “You can have as much as you like—Bill here got that for you while you were... uh... were you learning? Is that why you were silent for so long?”

She nodded, still gazing at the fish. Bill, seeing her hesitation, hopped over, picked one up, and lobbed it to her. She caught it from the air instinctively, wobbled her head so it aligned in her pouch, then swallowed it whole. Seeing her animalistic instincts, I felt a pang of guilt. She had still been a hatchling a mere hour ago, and here I was grilling her with questions.

“Sorry to be a pain, Ellis, but is it alright if we leave it there for tonight?”

“Yes, that is fine.”

“I know you’re probably wanting to ask more—wait, what?” I raised a brow. “It’s... fine?”

“Yes,” he replied, closing his notepad and sliding it into a pocket. “I was working on something and I would like to return to it. Goodnight, everyone.”

He turned and jogged away, not sparing us another glance. Maria and I shared a look, both similarly confused.

“Claws...” I said. “What was Ellis working on?”

She let out a non-committal chirp, so I spun to find her. She was sitting on the sand beside the pile of food, one bait fish in each forepaw as she happily crunched down on them.

“Nevermind,” I said, smiling. “Who wants more fried fish?”

A chorus of agreement met me, so I stood and stretched before making my way over to the fire.

“What about you, Private Pelly?” I asked, watching the brown pelican. “Do you want some more?”

I tried to keep my face straight as I looked around the circle, gauging everyone’s reactions.

“Just like that, huh?” Maria asked, quirking an eyebrow. “You’re not even gonna ask if she has one already before giving her one of your weirdo names?”

“First of all,” I replied, holding up a finger. “There’s no way Cinnamon gave her a name without me. Second, and most important, how dare you insult Private Pelly’s beautiful, charming, and downright cute name? Can you believe the audacity of this woman, Cinnamon?”

I turned to the bunny in question, who was staring at me with an unreadable gaze.

“Wait... you didn’t already give her a name, did you?”

She shook her head slowly. A twinkle entered her eye, and she turned to look at Pelly’s brown feathers, staring at the moonlight reflecting from them. A soft peep came from her throat, sounding remarkably like Pelly.

Bill threw his wings wide and raised his head toward the sky. He unleashed a mighty honk, broadcasting his approval for everyone to hear.

“That settles it,” I said, bending to rub her head pal. “Welcome to our little family, Private Pelly.”

Despite her obvious exhaustion following the transformation, she preened, her feathers puffing up around Cinnamon’s reassuring paw.

***

I stepped from my living room beneath a purple sky. Sunrise was so far off that even the predawn light had yet to arrive, but that didn’t stop Borks and I.

“Ready to go?”

He barked, his tail wagging.

“Race you there!”

I took off, leaving a trail of sand and accusatory barks in my wake. With each stride, I grew more awake, and by the time I arrived in the clearing, my head was clear. I took a deep breath of the humid forest air.

“Good morning, Lemon.”

Her leaves shook in greeting, then paused. A twig bent to point behind me.

“Huh? What’s up—”

Borks slammed into me from behind, launching me forward. We slid along the grass. He tried to kick off my back, but I spun, grabbing him.

“Not so fast, you little gremlin!” I dug my fingers into his neck, giving him the worst punishment of all—a good tickle.

He writhed and tried to get away, but my grip was as firm as my smile was wide. After only a few seconds, I let him go. He tore off, sprinting around the clearing; he was suffering from an acute case of the zoomies. Round and round he ran, barking at me and darting in with false charges to bait me into chasing him. I obliged.

“Think you’re fast enough for me, Borks?” I roared, kicking off the base of Lemon’s sturdy trunk.

The white of his eyes became visible as he looked back and saw me right on his tail. I let the game drag on, repeatedly grabbing at his back half before falling back. I had no idea how long we played for, but by the time we were finished, light shades of pink colored the purple sky. Borks collapsed to his back, his stomach exposed and tongue lolling from his mouth.

“Truce,” I said, collapsing to the clearing beside him.

When he’d caught his breath, Borks nipped at my arm playfully, and I laughed, batting him away. I stared up at the lemon tree above us. As always, it was laden with yellow citrus, but given the early morning hour, the pollinators were absent. It made the scene seem lifeless in comparison.

“I haven’t seen Bumblebro and Queen Bee in a while,” I mused. “Let’s go see how they’re doing before we get started.”

We approached in silence, not wanting to rouse the resting insects. As with the trees, the hives were quiet; not a single bee flew in or out. Curious if they’d made any headway with the hive I’d built, I lifted the lid to the top chamber. To my utter astonishment, there was honeycomb. I raised both eyebrows, and Borks cocked his head to the side. I replaced the lid, then lifted the first chamber. The next one down was empty, and I nodded—it hadn’t been that long, so it made sense. Unable to help myself, I put the first chamber down and lifted the second, revealing what would usually be the brood box. I froze, not believing my eyes.

There was comb in the brood box too, but unlike the top chamber, it was absolutely filled.

“What the...”

I carefully lifted a tray free, peering down at the honeycomb. One corner of the tray was a different color, so I leaned in closer. Within the comb there, only taking up a dozen or so of the hexes, were fully developed pupae.

“Queen Bee is producing more workers in here, huh?”

I replaced the tray and lifted another with just as much care, curiosity overtaking me. A small shape at the bottom of the brood box caught my attention, and I paused. Inadvertently, my awareness shot down toward it.

Not just a small shape, I realized.

It was Bumblebro and Queen Bee, resting so close beside each other that their abdomens touched. They stirred, either sensing my attention or being woken by the light leeching in. Both their wings twitched as they looked up toward me.

Then, they exploded into motion.

Queen Bee’s face flushed—I didn’t even know bees could do that—and she darted from view, her wings vibrating in agitation.

“What the—whoa!” I darted my head to the side, dodging Bumblebro’s charge. “Sorry, Bumblebro!” I dodged again. “I didn’t mean to startle you!”

He flew at me one last time, stopping directly before my face. He let out a low drone, clearly pissed, then flew down to the tray in my hand, staring up at me definitely as he buzzed his wings.

“Er... sorry?” I put it back, and the moment it was in place, he darted over to the chambers I’d set on the ground.

“Bzzz!”

“My bad, Bumblebro.” I put them back on, and he raced down to the entrance, heading back inside.

His head poked out of the hole, and he shook it, letting out one more buzz of disapproval. With that, he was gone, leaving me and Borks alone beneath the forest canopy. He stared up at me with his ears pinned back.

I leaned down to whisper, “I think we saw something we shouldn’t have...”

“Bzzz!” Bumblebro complained from within the hive.

I held up both hands in surrender and backed away. Borks followed suit, his ears still pinned back. When we were a few meters from the hive, we turned and made our way back toward the clearing.

“If anyone asks, we saw nothing.”

He let out a soft ruff, darting glances back at the hive as we went.

The moment we got back to the clearing, I plucked two lemons from the tree and sat down on the grass.

“Ready to test this theory, Borks?”

Just as happy to forget our foolish foray toward the hive, he nodded, staring at the citrus intently.

I sat down, crossed my legs, and sent my awareness down into the fruit—just in time for something mighty to fall from the heavens and strike the back of my head.