By Deborah Bainbridge

My attention shot toward the screen when a tall, willowy woman wearing an oversized orange sweater stepped into view of the security cameras. She lowered her ukulele as a magnificent bird soared out of sight. I watched the curious woman unlatch and open a small door camouflaged amongst the eucalyptus. My nose crinkled.

This is going to be bad.

Pathetic, wide eyes poked from between the leaves, then the rest of an animal that resembled a miniature kangaroo crept forward. The blonde-haired woman leaned toward it and smiled.

“No, don’t!” My hand reflexively reached toward the video footage as the dwarf wallaby punched her smack in the nose. I flinched as the woman fell flat onto her bum, a dazed expression sweeping her face.

Tossing my apron onto the cluttered work bench, I crammed fresh disposable gloves, a small bag of carrots, and some tissues above the injectable diazepam in my utility belt, then exited the administrative building.

The walk from the kitchen to the rear paddock always seemed longer when I was carrying a reeking mixture of fruits, veggies, and blood. “Ahoy there! Would you like a few of these?” Setting the bucket down, I offered some wipes to the woman.

Blue eyes met mine as she snatched them up, thrusting the tissues to her bloody nose, then gesturing toward the small creature. “I thought he needed rescuing. He was so cute and sweet, then he just—”

“Happens all the time.” I helped her to her feet. “It’s why they have their own habitat. Their massive, sappy eyes are their superpower, but they love punching everyone in the face. I’m Twila.”

“Harmony.” She brushed debris off her teal bell-bottoms. “Do you work alone, Twila?”

“No, but most of the staff has gone for the day. I just have a few more feedings to do. These little sweeties”—I wiggled the bag of carrots—“are Turkish Delight to that mob of tricky little boxers. Want to help me lure them back into their resort?”

“Yeah. I love animals.”

After latching the hidden door, we walked through a patch of daisies into a minefield meadow of rabbit holes dotted with clovers and dandelions.

“Watch your step.”

The colony surrounded us as a hulking blue bunny with bright crimson eyes and long, piercing fangs approached.

“Plenty of bloodred eyes here, Twila.” Harmony shrunk in place, pointing at a staring bunny sitting at her feet, its head cocked sideways. “His are flickering.”

“Better wait here.” Averting my gaze, I bowed before King Barkan, then stroked between his ears all the way to his cotton tail.

King Barkan thumped his rear paw thrice. Phew. Easing toward the shallow feeding trough, I dumped the contents of the giant sloshing bucket of noxious food. Never turning my face from the king, I clutched Harmony’s hand and we retreated backward. The latch clicked into place as the ravenous colony devoured the gory mixture.

“What were those things?” Harmony demanded.

“Royal Long-Fangs. Small, but vicious. Here, we call them bloody bunnies. They’re a protected species in Transylvania but were being poached for their pelts. Poor dears.”

“And if you hadn’t known how to approach them?”

I raised my eyebrows. “We would have been their dinner.”

Harmony shuddered. “What sort of place is this?”

“A sanctuary for peculiar creatures. Some of our inhabitants, mythical. We’re supported by the United Nations Animal Protection Agency. The dwarf wallabies were being exploited in underground boxing rings. The New Guinea government sent them.” I shook my head in disgust. “Gamblers.”

Swaying on her feet, Harmony placed her right hand against the side of her head. “I have the strangest feeling I’ve been here before.”

Please, remember. I took her hands in both of mine. “Breathe in… and out.” We took several calming breaths together. “Better?”

“Much.”

“The Stylus Peacocks are next.” My heart pinched. Your favorites.

At the feed shed, we gathered three scoops of seed mixture in a large metal can, then entered the forested peafowl territory.

“These peacocks were being bred and killed for their luxurious green and purple feathers.”

“Horrific!”

“Heinous conditions. A couple of us went undercover to rescue them from India.” I shook the feed can, and a dozen peacocks strutted forward, spreading their gorgeous plumage. “Do not look directly into the big yellow eyespots. They twitch vigorously when the pride is excited. Causes photic sensitivity.”

“Lovely purple fireworks,” Harmony mumbled.

“Harmony’s aura.” Crashing filled my ears. I dropped to my knees at her side, my heart thudding against my chest. She had lost consciousness and her muscles were contracting violently. Carefully, I placed my jacket underneath her head, moved all nearby objects, and started my watch timer. My fingers trembled as I strummed the ukulele, calling a special friend.

Harmony’s motions stilled. I glanced at the timer. 01:58. “Thank you, Lord,” I whispered. Moving strands of hair from her face, I rotated her into the recovery position, then tossed the seed mixture. The ravenous pride scurried away.

Angelic music filled my ears, and a grand, multi-colored phoenix swooped down beside us. Phenny brushed his beak against my hand, and I stroked his feathers. “Three months ago, when Harmony had her last grand mal, you were awaiting rebirth, too weak to help. She lost all memory of this place.” Tears dripped from my chin. “Of me. Can you help her, friend?”

With outstretched wings, Phenny faced Harmony, singing the most enchanting, otherworldly song, the melody reaching deep into my soul. Phenny wobbled, exhausted from healing, and I touched a wing to support him.

“You truly are a shining star. Rest, dear friend.”

Harmony blinked, looking up at me. “Sister?”

“You remember?” I gasped.

“We… started this preserve together… for animals in danger of extinction.”

I threw my arms around her. “You said our lives needed to shine brightly. Make a difference in this world. That’s why we named it…”

Recognition filled her eyes, and Harmony smiled the most genuine smile I’d seen in months. “Shining Stars!”

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