Epilogue
Epilogue
“Food time, everyone!” Aila shouted. “Come and get it!”
She and Tanya stepped into the phoenix aviary, decked in full battle gear: fireproof gloves on both arms, fireproof overalls, metal trays stacked with chopped fruits and vegetables. The summons were unnecessary. On its own, the click of the door summoned calamity.
A horde of month-old phoenix chicks stampeded toward them. Adorable peeps had been replaced by loud, braying calls from gaping mouths. Most of their gray down had been shed, growing into pin feathers of russet and tangerine. Skies and seas help their poor keepers when these monsters grew large enough to fly. They hopped and scraped at Aila’s legs, stubby wings fluttering. When she set down her food tray, the chicks inhaled chunks of mango and kale like feathered vacuum cleaners.
Aila loved them more than anything in the world.
After a harrowing hatching night, the zoo hadn’t fielded any further break-ins (thanks, in large part, to a bolstered night patrol by the San Tamculo Police Department). Aila’s trials had just begun. That first week, she averaged enough hours of sleep per night to count on one hand, bundled in a makeshift bed on the breeding complex floor, jerking awake at the softest peep to help Carmesi feed the chicks and check temperatures. Once Tanya found out, Aila received a firm lecture. They camped out together after that, trading off chick-watching duty and stints of rest.
The hatchlings grew fast. Their down filled out, allowing them to scamper around the exhibit, chewing olive leaves and tripping over branches. They learned to eat on their own, though anytime Carmesi or Aila entered proximity, five begging mouths surrounded them.
Every day, Aila and Tanya tracked their weight, their beak length, their feather growth. Five growth charts on their office whiteboard, twice-weekly reports to IMWS. And the onslaught of interview requests—Luciana had her pick of national news networks vying for footage while the fluffy chicks were at peak cuteness.
A month in, their awkward teenage stage involved less cute toes and more gangly legs, headdresses of red pin feathers and mouths too large for their faces. Aila adored them all.
While the chicks devoured their meal, Tanya set a smaller platter into the branches of an olive tree. Rubra fluttered down, an awkward landing as she wobbled with her new wing feathers. Age-wise, she sat about a month ahead of her chicks, though she joined the younger brood in harassing her keepers for food. Well-deserved pampering, after bursting into flame for the sake of her nest. Aila scratched Rubra’s crimson breast feathers as the bird chomped a mouthful of mango.
Carmesi landed last, a haggard hunch to his shoulders, gilded breast feathers dimmer than usual. When Aila held out a gloved hand, he hopped to her fist, a haven from his chaotic brood where she could hand him a juicy grape. Seeing the injustice, the chicks scrambled at her feet, hopping and gaping in a vie for attention.
“You quit that!” Tanya chided, sending the chicks scampering as she set down a final tray of food. “Poor Carmesi. Amazing he hasn’t burst into flames, harassed by these demons.”
Aila chuckled. “No kidding. How about a little break, Carmesi? Would you like that?”
At the lilt in her voice, Carmesi bobbed his head and trilled. She took that as a yes.
As they worked in the exhibit, a crowd pressed at the observation window, eyes and phones jostling for the perfect view. Several younger patrons waved to Aila and Tanya.
Aila waved back.
At some point, the gesture had stopped feeling forced. She held Carmesi out to the observers, beaming as patrons snapped their photos.
Rubra and the chicks would keep the exhibit lively. Aila walked Carmesi inside the keeper complex and held him to a metal carrying crate. Once he’d hopped inside, she closed the door and slipped off her bulky gloves. Then, a deep breath.
“Horns and fangs,” Tanya said with a dramatic exhale. “Never been so busy around here. Can’t wait for the first keeper volunteers to show up next week.”
Aila grinned—actually grinned— at that. Just ten volunteers for Tanya’s pilot program, but they’d passed the interview process and initial training session. One more week, and there’d be a batch of fresh faces at the zoo.
Tanya crossed her arms, lips curved to a smirk. “You ready?”
Aila’s grin plummeted. Ready for volunteers? Sure, she’d give it a whirl. Ready for what had Tanya grinning? “Well, no , obviously not. But it’s going to happen anyway, isn’t it?”
Tanya punched her shoulder. “That’s the spirit, Ailes.”
Tanya lifted the carrying case, then they set off across the zoo.
On a weekend in late summer, the paths couldn’t be busier. Patrons swarmed in waves scented of sunscreen and fizzing soda, fried churros and lemon sorbets in animal-shaped cups. The latest fads in the gift shop were phoenix-colored parasols, a perfect match for sunglasses with fiery feather rims. For a short time after the chicks hatched, Aila and Tanya made a game of how many pieces of phoenix merchandise they could spot in one day. They had to quit after running out of room for tallies on their whiteboard.
As they passed the dragon aviaries, the crowd funneled into a plaza. Aila paused in the path, a stone amid the current.
In front of the diamondback dragon exhibit stood the zoo’s newest keeper, encircled by the attentive crowd. He was a young man with Movasi-brown skin, scrawny as Aila, all beanpole arms and fidgeting fingers as he sped through his list of dragon trivia.
“What’s the hold-up, Ailes?” Tanya called from a couple of paces ahead. “We’ve got places to be!”
“Sure, sure.” Aila vacillated in the path. “Just… hold on one minute, OK?”
The keeper talk ended. As the crowd dispersed, Aila squirmed past strollers and elbows. The dragon keeper waited for the patrons to leave, bouncing on his boots in an impatient fashion Aila knew all too well. Martin, she recalled his name was. He wore a black polo still stiff out of the plastic wrapping, already globbed with pine resin and fish scales.
Aila popped out of the crowd like a gopher. The dragon keeper startled.
“Hello!” Aila gave a little wave, tight at the wrist. “Yes, hey, hello there! I’m Aila. We… um… met at the staff meeting?”
“Oh! Of course!” He vacillated between handshake and fist bump before offering a strange amalgamation of both. “I’m Martin.”
“Ha! I remembered!” That came out too loud.
Martin shrank. “You’re the Silimalo phoenix keeper?”
“That’s me! And here’s Tanya, Bix phoenix keeper.” Aila waved to the bemused friend standing beside her.
Martin greeted them with a polite grin, though a different light hit his eyes when he spotted the carrier.
“No way! Is that…?” He knelt to peer inside. When Carmesi poked his head to the screen, Martin gasped. “Can I…?” He held up a finger.
“Of course,” Tanya said. “This one doesn’t bite.”
Giddy, Martin poked a finger to the front of the carrier. When Carmesi nibbled back, he chuckled. If the mess on his shirt wasn’t reason enough to expect good things, Carmesi’s vote of confidence spoke volumes.
“Anyway,” Aila said, “we wanted to stop by, welcome you to the zoo and all that. We’re not, you know, dragon experts, but seeing as how your predecessor is in prison on charges of international animal smuggling”—Aila wasn’t normally big on true crime TV, but she’d watched that live court hearing with a bucket of popcorn—“let us know if we can help out?”
Martin stood, eyes wide. “Really?”
“Sure! I mean…” Aila clasped her hands behind her back and swiveled. “We’re exhibit neighbors. We ought to look out for each other?”
She glanced to Tanya, just to make sure this was the right move.
“Absolutely!” Tanya beamed. “In fact, why don’t you pop over for lunch? We can run you through all the best places to eat in the zoo.”
Aila perked up. “Oh, and how to run the snow machine for Vera!”
“And some pointers on wrangling refrigerator space from Patricia.”
“Anything you need.”
“That sounds fantastic.” Martin darted a smile between them, then at the dragon lounging in the exhibit. “I’m sure Vera will appreciate it, too. We’re still getting to know each other.”
Good deed accomplished.
But Aila was on a time crunch. She and Tanya bid farewell to their new colleague before diving back into the crowded pathways. Tanya spared the friendly teasing about Aila’s growing social competency, but a proud elbow nudge sent Aila’s heart soaring.
She’d always loved this zoo like a home. Now, it felt full like never before.
They arrived at the griffin show amphitheater as a fresh crowd funneled into their seats, adventurous music beating from the speakers. Aila and Tanya slipped through the side entrance and into the bustling corridors behind the stage.
“Aila’s here!” Nadia shouted from the tech room, somehow spotting the newcomers without looking up from her screen.
A shame. Aila had been contemplating whether this was all some colossal mistake and she ought to hide in a dark corner before anyone noticed her.
A hurricane swirled around her: keepers setting animals into their boxes and perches, strapping on microphones, filling waist pouches with mice and fruit. At the center of the storm stood Luciana, immovable as ever, head tall and hair a cascade across her shoulders. She turned to Aila with those piercing brown eyes, that weighted stare that could crumble a person to dust.
Then, a smile.
“You made it. Just in time.”
Even now, Aila couldn’t comprehend how Luciana sounded so calm— excited , even. Aila harnessed all her focus just to keep breathing, to keep the walls from spinning around her.
“How’s my hair?” Aila worried, running her hand through the wavy auburn locks. “I tried to curl it this morning, but we both know I’m not half as good as you are. I think I smelled a little burning. That’s not bad, is it?”
Luciana twirled a strand around her finger. “It looks lovely, Aila.” Then, a whisper in her ear. “Though I prefer how messy it was at your place last weekend.”
Aila squeaked in reply. She, too, enjoyed how her hair had felt last weekend, particularly the contribution of Luciana’s fingers running through the strands. If she dwelled on that, she’d keel over.
Instead, she bounced on her heels. Twisted her fingers. She squeaked again when Luciana settled two warm, grounding hands on her shoulders.
“Aila,” she said, close and quiet, as if they stood separate from the surrounding chaos. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I won’t think any less of you.”
Aila believed her. Instead of hiding, taking the out, she bobbed her head in determination.
“I can do it,” Aila said.
Luciana grinned. “I know you can.”
From out of the storm, another keeper materialized. “You’ve got Carmesi?” she said to Tanya. “Go ahead and set the carrier right over here. That’s perfect.”
Tanya put Carmesi’s carrier on the table. Aila sat beside it, quivering.
Too soon, Luciana was called away. The music soared. The chaos of pre-show preparation shifted to a well-oiled machine as keepers glided in and out of the room, setting each piece of the production in motion. At her cue, Luciana stepped on stage.
“Welcome, everyone, to the San Tamculo Zoo! I’m Luciana, your host today for our incredible, our awe-inspiring, our one-of-a-kind griffin show!”
Oh no. This was happening. Aila had actually agreed to this for some reason.
Tanya gripped her shuddering arms. “This is your time, Ailes!”
Aila nodded, staring at the floor, her boots.
“You are fierce!” Tanya said. “As fierce as a manticore!”
“I’m not sure about—”
“ As fierce as a kraken in the depths! ”
Aila gripped the table with white knuckles and willed herself to believe it.
“Aila?” one of the keepers called. “You’re on deck!”
Now or never.
Aila breathed deep, put on a glove, then pulled Carmesi from his carrier.
“Up next,” Luciana’s voice sang over the speakers, “we have a special surprise for you today. A griffin show first!”
The world moved in slow motion, muted and blurred around the edges. Aila told herself not to look at the crowd. As she stepped onto the stage, she focused on her boots against the concrete, the glare of flame-colored spotlights. Carmesi perched on her glove, feathers flattened, head cocked to the stadium.
If he could look, so could she. Aila had survived the inspectors. Survived the interviews. Survived gun-wielding intruders. She could handle this.
She looked up.
The sight of packed stands threatened to stop her heart. Blood thudded in her ears, as loud as the gasps and applause, as loud as the Silimalo string music blaring over the speakers. Stuck in the spotlight, Aila’s legs wobbled.
Wobbled, but didn’t collapse. Though her heart thundered, it didn’t burst. Before her sat a sea of onlookers, every one of them smiling ear to ear. The two largest smiles sat in the front row—Aila’s parents, rising out of their seats as they snapped photos.
She smiled back.
“Ladies and gentlemen!” Luciana stood across the lawn, hand raised to quell the rambunctious crowd. “If you haven’t already visited our Silimalo phoenix exhibit, make sure you do so after the show. San Tamculo is one of the only zoos in Movas to breed this critically endangered species, and it’s all thanks to your generous support.”
She held her gloved hand high. Aila tipped her wrist, Carmesi’s signal to take flight. He glided across the lawn, sparking gasps from the stadium as spotlights turned his tail into a river of fire.
Once he alighted on Luciana’s fist, she held the bird aloft for the audience.
Then, with a twist of her hand, Carmesi dove off her glove and flapped back to the stage, landing on Aila’s arm in a flare of red and gold.
Aila faced the crowd, their applause a thunder in her heart, a phoenix brilliant on her glove.
Her phoenix, to share with the world.