Call of the Alphas Read online

  “Whatever you choose to call it, it’s a brilliant invention,” Zios said. “What’s your name, my friend?”

  “Thank you, thank you! I’m Graham. And you’re . . .” The monkey squinted. “Why, you’re the guardian spirits of Jamaa!”

  Mira smiled. “Indeed. And it’s a pleasure to meet you, Graham.”

  “The pleasure is all mine. Oh dear, looks like that bolt’s come loose . . .” Picking up a small wrench that had been lying in the grass, Graham began tightening the bolt. “I based the design on a snowblower I built ages ago to clear trails around Mt. Shiveer. See?” He pulled a photo from his belt and waved it at them. “The wolves had been digging paths, always digging, digging, digging. Rather the hard way to do it, don’t you think? So much work! By the time they’d reach the end of the path, snow was already piling up again at the beginning. They just went round and round. Might as well be chasing their tails!”

  “The work you put into keeping Jamaa clean and safe is admirable,” Mira said, examining the gadget in the photo. “Many animals have given up, thanks to the Phantoms.”

  Graham was still inspecting his smog vacuum. “No sense in giving up, none at all,” he said distractedly. “There are still some natural resources at hand, aren’t there? Whatever’s available is all I need, that’s what I always say.”

  Mira and Zios exchanged a smile.

  “Graham,” Mira said. “We have a proposition for you.”

  The guardian spirits explained their plan to Graham, who listened curiously. Once they finished, he clapped his hands in delight.

  “Just tell me where and when the meeting is, and I’ll be there!” Graham said, snapping his goggles back into place. “Glad that panda gave me this photo. Reminded me of my own invention!”

  “Who is this panda?” Zios asked.

  Graham scratched his head. “Lily? Leela? Loo-Loo? Can’t remember. An explorer, though, that I do recall. She’s been trekking all over Jamaa, documenting with her camera the destruction the Phantoms have caused. Still at Mt. Shiveer, I believe.”

  Mira and Zios left Graham tinkering with his smog vacuum and continued their search for leaders. “Let’s find this panda,” Mira said. “If she really is that knowledgeable about the Phantoms’ destruction, she could be a great asset to our team.”

  When they arrived at the base of Mt. Shiveer, they found two wolves arguing with a bunny near a fork in the path.

  “The hot springs are next to our village,” one of the wolves snapped. “That makes them our territory.”

  “I’ve got no interest in your territory,” the bunny sniffed. “I just . . . ah . . . ahhhCHOO!”

  The other wolf stepped to the side, blocking the path uphill. “Well, that’s it. You’re not getting anywhere near our village now, not if you’re sick.”

  As the three continued to bicker, a panda with bright purple eyes strolled down the path from the hot springs. She stopped when she reached the wolves, leaning on her long wooden staff and smiling.

  “Excuse me,” she said cheerfully. “I’d like to pass, please.”

  The wolves glanced at each other, then grudgingly stepped aside. “Sorry, Liza,” one mumbled.

  “AhhhCHOO!”

  Liza turned to the bunny. “Goodness! That’s quite a cold you have. Are you on your way to the hot springs?”

  “I was,” the bunny grumbled, shivering. “But these two claim it’s their territory.”

  “He’s contagious!” one of the wolves told Liza defensively. “We just don’t want his germs near our village.”

  “But surely you realize he has every right to visit the springs,” Liza said, pulling a small bottle from the pocket of her belt. “And as for that cold, I think this just might do the trick!”

  She handed the bottle to the bunny, who sipped the contents tentatively. He blinked, a smile spreading across his face. “Wow, I feel better already! What is this stuff?”

  “A special potion made with eucalyptus oil,” Liza replied. “Enjoy the hot springs!”

  The wolves stood reluctantly aside, allowing the bunny to hop up the path. Mira and Zios waited near a grayish melting snowbank as Liza drew nearer. The panda paused when she spotted them, her mouth forming a round O of surprise.

  “Oh my goodness!” she exclaimed. “You’re . . . you’re Mira and Zios! The guardian spirits!”

  “Hello, Liza,” said Mira warmly. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. We couldn’t help overhearing what just happened.”

  “You did a remarkable job handling that disagreement,” Zios continued. “Would you be interested in taking on a greater role to unite the animals of Jamaa?”

  Liza’s purple eyes widened. “Unite the animals of Jamaa? Of course, but . . . but how? What role could I possibly play?”

  “The role of a leader,” Zios replied, and Liza gripped her wooden staff even tighter.

  “A leader? Oh my . . .” Liza took a deep breath. “I’m honored. May I have some time to consider it?”

  “Of course,” Mira replied. “We’ll send word soon with a time and location for a meeting. Also, may I ask where you acquired that eucalyptus potion?”

  “I got it in Kimbara Outback,” Liza told her. “The pollution in that area has caused all sorts of strange sicknesses among the poor koalas. Luckily, a brilliant young healer recently arrived to help them. He’s got a special gift for working with plants.”

  Mira ruffled her wings and turned to Zios. “Perhaps we should meet this healer.”

  After bidding Liza goodbye, the guardian spirits of Jamaa set off for Kimbara Outback. The air grew warmer during their journey, but the sun remained hidden behind a dense haze.

  Mira coughed. “The smog,” she told Zios morosely. “It’s getting thicker.”

  They arrived at Kimbara Outback to find dozens of koalas lined up outside a makeshift tent, some hopping and twitching in agitation. Behind them, the dry grass stretched out as far as the eye could see and was covered in oily streaks of brownish black that zigzagged the horizon.

  “This itch is unbearable,” one koala moaned, hopping from one swollen foot to the other. Another nodded, scratching her red ears compulsively.

  “The Phantoms,” Mira sighed. “Their effect here is even worse than I feared.”

  Before Zios could respond, a high-pitched cackle of delight came from the tent.

  “I’ve got it! I’ve done it!” A koala in a moss skirt bounded outside, gleefully waving two large bottles over his head. “The cinchona trees, of course! I collected the leaves ages ago, and this lotion will do the trick! On your feet! On your ears! On your nose! On your elbow! Even in between your toes!”

  As he spoke, he danced down the line of koalas, slathering lotion onto their rashes. Each koala wore a momentary look of surprise before laughing in relief.

  “Thanks, Cosmo!” the last koala called, wiggling her ears. Cosmo waved goodbye with his empty bottles, then headed back into the tent, where Mira and Zios were waiting.

  “Oh!” Cosmo cried, nearly dropping his bottles. “Aren’t you . . .”

  “The guardian spirits of Jamaa, yes,” Mira replied kindly, and she explained their plan for the third time.

  “I’d be thrilled to help!” Cosmo exclaimed. “The plants are on our side, you know. I’ve heard them whispering to each other about the Phantoms, about Jamaa. If the animals work with one another—and with the plants, of course—we can restore this land to what it was . . . just like it used to be!”

  He pointed to a painting near the back of the tent. Red-orange land dotted with colorful shrubs sparkled under a clear, deep blue sky. Tears welled up in Mira’s eyes as she stepped closer.

  “This is what Kimbara Outback looked like before the Phantoms,” she said softly. “It’s beautiful. And look, here’s the artist’s signature: Peck.”

  “A bunny, I believe,” Co
smo said, grabbing a handful of leaves from a nearby tree. “One of the other healers got it from the Art Studio in Coral Canyons.”

  The guardian spirits wasted no time. After promising to contact Cosmo soon, they hurried to Coral Canyons. Mira was dismayed to see the oily streaks covered many of the once beautiful red rocks as well.

  “Is there no place in Jamaa the Phantoms haven’t touched?” she wondered. “This is . . . Oh! Zios, look at that!”

  Below, a group of bunnies were gathered in front of an enormous flat-faced rock that had been scrubbed clean of oil. Each bunny held a chunk of something grayish black, which they were using to sketch and scribble on the pale sandstone.

  “Are they drawing?” Mira asked, edging closer quietly so as not to disturb their work.

  “Indeed,” Zios murmured. “It’s a mural . . . of the Lost Temple of Zios.”

  As they watched, a bunny with light pink and purple fur bounced around the group, calling instructions.

  “Beautiful, beautiful!” she cried. “Now let’s add the tree along the east side. Giant, huge! With thick vines! And there’s the river, too, can’t forget the river . . .”

  Mira smiled. “I believe we’ve found Peck.”

  Peck’s right ear twitched, causing her yellow bell earring to jingle. “Did I hear my name?” she asked, turning around. Her violet eyes widened in surprise. “M-Mira! And Zios! Oh my!”

  “We’re admirers of your work, Peck,” Mira told her. “Your painting of Kimbara Outback is stunning. And this mural is incredible.”

  “Thank you!” Peck replied, blushing. “There was a fire recently in Sarepia Forest, and I thought I might as well put the charcoal to good use. The destruction of so many trees had everyone really down, and I wanted to show them that you can find beauty in anything.”

  “So you’re creating a mural of Jamaa,” Mira said. “The old Jamaa, before the Phantoms.”

  “Oh no.” Peck’s eyes flashed. “This is the future Jamaa. It will look like this again one day. I have to believe that.”

  “As do we,” Zios said, pleased. “And you can help us ensure that it happens.”

  “I can?”

  Mira nodded. “We’re looking for six leaders, one to represent each of Jamaa’s remaining species, to help unite all the animals in the fight against the Phantoms.”

  Peck’s ears flattened against her head. “And you think I can be a—a leader?”

  “Of course!” Zios said, a laugh in his voice. “Just look at what you’ve accomplished already!”

  The three turned to look at the mural. Two bunnies were busily sketching differently shaped jewels, all clustered together near the bottom of the drawing.

  “The Heartstones!” Mira said in wonder. “All together and safe, the way they once were.”

  Peck nodded, her bell jangling again. “When we were gathering the charcoal, we met a tiger whose den is just on the outskirts of the fire. He was very curious about what we were doing, and he ended up telling us the story of the Heartstones while we worked.”

  Zios glanced at Mira, a question in his eyes, and Mira nodded in silent agreement. After thanking Peck and promising to be in touch soon, they hastened to Sarepia Forest. The fire-damaged area was easy to find. Any trees left standing were charred and leafless, and smoke still lingered in the air. The guardian spirits of Jamaa soon found the den that Peck had mentioned.

  Inside, they found fire flickering in a cozy stone hearth, a kettle hanging just above the flames. A large tiger with a braided beard was curled up nearby, studying a map intently. He looked up when Mira stepped forward, and quickly stood.

  “Good heavens!”

  “We’re sorry to disturb you,” Mira began. “I am Mira, and this is Zios.”

  “The guardian spirits of Jamaa, of course,” the tiger replied with a regal bow. “I am Sir Gilbert. It’s an honor to meet you both.”

  They gathered around the hearth, and once Sir Gilbert had poured them all a cup of tea, Mira explained their plan yet again.

  Sir Gilbert regarded her thoughtfully when she’d finished. “So you’ve found leaders for the monkeys, pandas, koalas, and bunnies?”

  “We have,” Zios confirmed. “And we were hoping you might lead your species in this endeavor.”

  “I’m humbled by your request,” Sir Gilbert replied, lifting his head. “Of course, I am willing to do whatever is necessary to defeat the Phantoms. And I do think this plan has merit. However . . .”

  “Yes?” Mira prompted.

  Sir Gilbert sighed. “These other four leaders you’ve recruited sound worthy of the task ahead. But if you truly mean to have a leader for each species involved in this endeavor, I must say I have a few reservations about letting a wolf into the fold.”

  “But we must,” Mira said firmly. “The only way the animals of Jamaa will succeed in reclaiming their land is if they work together—all of them. Just as it was before.”

  Several seconds of silence passed as Sir Gilbert considered this. “All right,” he said at last, nodding. “I see your point, and I agree. But I implore you,” he added, his expression grave. “Please take great care in choosing the leader of the wolves. They can be quite crafty.”

  “Indeed they can,” Mira agreed, smiling. “And that is exactly the quality we’re looking for.”

  “We’ll contact you soon,” Zios told Sir Gilbert. The guardian spirits nodded at the tiger and departed.

  Neither spoke until they had retreated deep into the dark, quiet forest. Then Mira stopped and sighed.

  “I meant what I said,” she told Zios solemnly. “We absolutely must have a leader for the wolves. But I know the other leaders will share Sir Gilbert’s reservations. How will we find the right wolf for the job?”

  Zios had closed his eyes as Mira spoke. “Perhaps,” he said in a low voice, “the right wolf has already found us.”

  Mira tilted her head, confused. Then the feathers along her back prickled and fluttered, and she turned to see a pair of yellow eyes peering at them from the shadows between the trees.

  The guardian spirits watched and waited in silence. A moment later, a blue-gray wolf stepped out from the dark. Mira studied him appraisingly.

  “Have you been following us since we left Sir Gilbert’s?” she asked.

  “Longer.” The wolf’s gruff voice was so low, it was barely audible over the wind through the leaves. “I’ve been tracking Leach and Stench since the battle, and I crossed your path a few times on your quest.”

  “What is your name?”

  The wolf eyed her, his reluctance to answer evident. “Greely,” he said at last.

  Mira nodded. “So, Greely, may I assume you know about our plan already?”

  Greely gave a short nod. “I do, but Sir Gilbert speaks the truth. This isn’t something anyone would want the wolves involved in—and that includes the wolves.” He paused, sniffing. “We work better on our own. Myself especially.”

  “I don’t doubt you are a skilled tracker,” Mira said. “But how do you know you wouldn’t be even better as part of a team if you’ve never tried it?”

  Zios chimed in. “We believe that working together will give the animals of Jamaa their best chance at defeating the Phantoms. But of course, each animal has to make that choice.”

  “We’ll send word about the meeting soon.” Mira paused, holding Greely’s gaze. “Will you at least consider it until then?”

  Greely sat silently, the wind ruffling his fur. At last, he nodded. “I’ll consider it.”

  He slipped back into the darkness of the forest, leaving the guardian spirits of Jamaa staring after him uncertainly.

  CHAPTER THREE

  In a remote part of Jamaa, hidden from nearby villages in a tightly packed thicket, was a small clearing with a magnificent tree in its center. The tree didn’t so much have a trunk as it did doze
ns of thick roots twisting up out of the ground and wrapping closely around one another. Together, they stretched up into the sky before splitting into hundreds of branches that hung high overhead, heavy with enormous green leaves.

  Mira and Zios waited beneath its canopy. Liza was the first to arrive, immediately pulling out her camera and snapping photo after photo of the tree. Cosmo and Peck showed up at the same time, both bouncing with excitement. While Peck marveled at the size of each leaf—sturdy enough for a canvas, she exclaimed ecstatically—Cosmo pressed his ear to the knotted trunk and laughed with delight, almost as if the tree had told him a joke.

  Sir Gilbert appeared next, and he watched the others’ antics with obvious amusement. A loud rumbling, rattling sound announced Graham’s arrival, and the sight of his smog vacuum bursting out of the bushes sent Peck scurrying behind the tree in fright. Liza marveled over the contraption, while Cosmo and Sir Gilbert looked on from a distance with mixed expressions of curiosity and suspicion.

  Arching her neck, Mira peered through the surrounding trees. “How much longer should we give Greely?” she murmured to Zios. Before he could respond, Sir Gilbert lifted his head sharply, and his eyes narrowed at a cluster of brambly bushes near the tree.

  “Show yourself, wolf!” he called out, his tone commanding. After a moment, Greely stepped out of the bushes. He eyed Sir Gilbert disdainfully, and the tiger regarded him with equal derision. A chilly hush fell over the animals as they watched Greely approach the tree.

  “Welcome, Greely,” Mira said warmly. “I’m so glad you decided to join us.” Greely bowed his head in acknowledgment, but didn’t respond. When he passed the smog vacuum, Graham stepped in front of it protectively, mumbling something under his breath. Cosmo and Peck edged away nervously, whispering to each other when Greely reached the group. Liza attempted to smile at the wolf, but he ignored her.