EVERY FROG IN THE AMPHIBILANDS gathered at Emerald Pond for Chief Olba's funeral. The branches of the trees bowed under the weight of tree frogs, while burrowing frogs clustered on a mossy hill and bullfrogs watched from the shallows.
They all croaked together, a song of love and loss. Instead of standing with the wood frogs crowding the banks, Darel found himself sitting between Quoba and Burnu, their backs against the trunk of a banyan tree. To Darel's surprise, Quoba sang slightly off-key, and Burnu had a deep, resonant singing croak.
When the song faded, Darel asked Quoba, "How are you feeling?"
"Better," she said with a quick smile.
He didn't completely believe her. She'd drawn on her full power to defend the platypuses from Lord Marmoo—maybe even more than her full power—and ever since then, she'd been afraid to tap her poison. Afraid that using any more of it would burn her out completely.
But he knew she didn't like talking about it, so he turned to Burnu. "How about you?"
After a taipan snake bit Burnu in a cave in the Snowy Mountains, he'd spent days weak and feverish. But now he nudged Darel and scoffed, "At my worst, I'm still better than a mud frog."
"At least your personality is back to normal," Darel said.
Burnu nudged Darel again, almost knocking him over. "Why aren't you off somewhere, tearing down the Veil?"
"Because there's a funeral going on," Darel said with a glare.
"And?"
"And there's something else we need to do before we lower the Veil."
Burnu snorted. "But you don't know what it is."
"Nope," Darel said, shaking his head.
"And that's why you told the loquacious reptile to repair the rip Jarrah made in the Outback Hills? Because it's not time yet?"
Darel didn't know what "loquacious" meant, but he nodded. "Yeah. At first I wasn't sure if he should bother, but I think … I think we need to keep the Veil strong until the right time."
"Do you really think there's a right time to leave the entire Amphibilands defenseless? When's the right time to let the scorps destroy everything you love?"
"I don't know." Darel toed the ground. "But this isn't only about us frogs. This is about the entire outback, about the future for everyone. This is about the Rainbow Serpent and—"
The raspy note of a didgeridoo interrupted Darel.
The crowd hushed as Ponto and Dingo pushed a raft into the water. The raft was mounded high with lily pads and lotus flowers, and dotted with leaf-bowls containing Chief Olba's favorite foods: honey snails and lice cream, fish eggs, and all kinds of grub.
Darel felt the hot prick of tears in his eyes as he watched the raft spin in the current, knowing that soon it would drift down the stream that flowed to the ocean.
After a moment of silence, a bullfrog hunter stood up and told a story about Chief Olba. Then Gee's father did the same. Frog after frog stood, sharing memories, and Darel was surprised by how many of the stories were funny. He hadn't expected all this laughter, mixed with the tears.
Finally, Old Jir limped forward and leaned on his cane. "Chief Olba loved three things. Food, laughter, and—"
"More food!" someone croaked.
Old Jir smiled, then lifted his cane, to indicate the frogs and the Amphibilands. "And all of this, all of you. She'd be proud that we remember her with songs and laughter. She lived to guide us … and she died to protect us."
The crowd hushed.
"But this isn't only the end of a life, it's also the beginning of a new day. The chief knew that." Old Jir looked across the pond. "And she's not the only one."
"King Sergu knew it, too," Yabber said. He'd quietly lumbered in to stand behind Ponto.
"And they both trusted one young frog to guide us." Old Jir's pale gaze shifted to Darel. "Darel, why don't you say a few words?"
What? No way. Darel felt his toe pads clench, and his stomach twisted in nervousness. "I—I'm not—"
Quoba prodded him with her elbow. "Stand up."
"Why don't you stand up?" he grumbled.
Burnu kneed him in the butt.
"Ow!" he yelped, hopping to his feet. Then he raised his voice. "I mean, how, um, how nice to be asked." He thought for a second. How could he put into words everything he felt about the chief's sacrifice? "I just want to say that I miss the chief. I'd give anything to hear her voice again. Even if she was just scolding me for destroying the marketplace. But … she's gone."
"And you want to tear down the Veil!" someone croaked.
"I don't want to," Darel said, his face flushing. "The Rainbow Serpent wants us to."
"So you say! What if you're wrong?"
"I …" Darel swallowed. "I saw the Serpent on the mountaintop. And then again outside the platypus village, after the chief sacrificed herself to beat Marmoo. The Stargazer showed me a rainbow on the river—and that's when I knew. That's when the Serpent told me, Lower the Veil."
"Why?" a Baw Baw asked.
"I don't know. Maybe because we need to face our enemy once and for all. Maybe we need to stop hiding and rejoin the outback. Maybe … I'm not sure. All I know is, we have to have faith."
Darel ducked his head. For a moment, he heard crickets. Then a few tongues thwapped, and silence fell, except for a soft crunching. Darel sighed. He didn't know what to say, but he knew he couldn't twiddle his finger pads any longer. He couldn't wait around, hoping that he'd suddenly understand everything the Rainbow Serpent wanted.
"We need a chorus," Darel announced. "We need to decide this together, all of us."
Old Jir raised his walking stick. "Chief Olba always loved a sing-along. I can't think of a better way to honor her than to have one last chorus, to decide if we lower the Veil."
A chorus was a village vote. The tree frogs peeped and the bullfrogs trumpeted, the wood frogs croaked and the Baw Baws rasped—they would sing and sing until they finally joined together in a single refrain, agreeing on a single decision.
"We've faced dark times before," Jir continued. "We were hunted almost to extinction before the Hidingwar. But in the end, the Serpent never let us down."
Darel took a breath. "So let's hear both sides of this question." He gave what he hoped was a wry smile. "Well, we all know why tearing down the Veil is a terrible idea."
"Because without it, the scorps will tear us apart," a bullfrog rumbled. "Marmoo will kill us all."
"The Rainbow Serpent will protect us," another frog said.
"What's the Serpent going to do?" a tree frog peeped. "Dazzle the enemy with pretty colors?"
Other frogs muttered around the pond: That young wood frog knows what he's doing, and He fought them off once already, and If we listen to him, we will lose the Amphibilands.
A glow washed over Darel from behind: Burnu's colors shining brightly. Then the Kulipari leader's voice echoed across the pond. "If not for Darel, there would be no Amphibilands, not anymore."
"The chief trusted Darel," Quoba said, putting her hand on Darel's shoulder. "The turtle king trusted Darel. And the Kulipari trust Darel."
"Chief Olba chose Darel to keep us safe," Old Jir said, watching the flower-laden raft float in the pond. "That's good enough for me."
"Thanks," Darel said. "But it has to be good enough for all of us."
"Then tell all of us why we should lower the Veil," Coorah called.
"There's only one reason," Darel admitted. "And that's because we have faith in the Rainbow Serpent. Because even though this is scary—terrifying, even—and dangerous, we trust the ancient spirit who brought life to the outback." He straightened, and looked at the crowd. "Maybe … maybe the choice isn't between staying safe and risking everything."
"Of course it is!" someone croaked.
"Maybe we're not safe inside the Veil," Darel continued, shaking his head. "Maybe Marmoo will find another way inside. Maybe he's already weakening the Veil. Maybe if we try to hide behind it, thinking we're safe, he'll catch us by surprise, totally undefended. We don't know. All we can do is trust the Serpent."
When he stopped speaking, a hush fell over the crowd. Then Old Jir said, "Those are our options! Do we trust the Rainbow Serpent and lower the Veil? Or do we keep the Veil and stay hidden?"
"Keep the Veil!" a burrowing frog called.
"Stay hidden!" a tree frog peeped.
"We think of the tadpoles," a wood frog croaked, "and we stay in the Veil."
Dozens of frogs joined the chorus, and a loud refrain of "Stay safe, stay hidden" echoed across the pond. Darel croaked, "Trust the Serpent," and heard the Kulipari joining in with him. He almost smiled when he saw his mother singing "Trust and faith." Gee and Coorah sang, "Lower the Veil," and Arabanoo and his tree frogs sang along in the branches, in surprisingly sweet voices.
"Stay safe" drowned them out, though. In a few moments, almost all the frogs were chanting together: "Stay safe, stay hidden. Stay safe, stay hidden."
The chorus grew louder as a breeze swirled through the trees and rippled the surface of the pond. The flower-strewn raft spun slowly, and the wind lifted flower petals in the air. They floated and twirled, then scattered across the pond.
As Darel croaked, "Trust the Serpent," he watched the petals tumble from the raft—and his breath caught in awe. The petals drifted into a pattern on the water: red and orange together, then yellow and green and blue and purple …
Like a rainbow.
The wind blew again, and the petals floated apart. The pattern disappeared, but Darel lifted his chin and sang louder. "Trust the Serpent, trust the Serpent …"
Slowly but steadily, the tide turned. The calls of "Stay hidden" faded, and his mother's song of "Trust and faith" attracted more and more singers. A few minutes later, a single song rang out from Emerald Pond.
"Trust and faith …"
Now Darel just had to earn that trust. If he was wrong, he'd endangered everything he loved.
