Onsan and Peki raced across the rainbow-wood floors of the house, the wheels on their suitcases squeaking wildly as they propelled them to the back door. 

“Beat you!” his little sister proclaimed gleefully, reaching the door a step ahead of him.

“You’re too fast for me!” Onsan said, although his long legs could have carried him much faster if he’d wanted them to.

Their parents were waiting for them in the backyard, which was covered in the tiny silver-and-black wildflowers of veniroa, the warm season. Their sweet scent filled the air. 

“These tailwinds will shave a bunch of time off our flight!” their father, Sevou, said as they approached, looking approvingly at the little green clouds zipping across the rose-colored sky. 

“What a great way to start to our vacation,” said Jalua, their mother. “Let’s go!”

Clutching his bag, Onsan unfolded his wings and lifted off with the rest of his family. As he flew higher, the sail on top of his suitcase popped open and caught the breeze, making it feel much lighter. The tailwinds meant that he could glide for long stretches, enjoying the sight of the rainbow-wood homes below him shining in the early light of Shiroc’s suns, which formed a gleaming triangle near the horizon.

Eventually, he spotted the jagged peaks of the Tishepo mountain range—the family’s destination. Only Sevou had been there before, having gone on a camping trip when he was a boy. The sight filled Onsan with anticipation.

For as long as he could remember, there had been stories about a strange creature that lived in the mountains. Some people swore they had caught a glimpse of an enormous bird with glittering feathers flying low over the hills at dusk, while others reported seeing a similar being darting through the wooded hillsides. But no one had ever managed to get a clear picture of it with a picto-box; there were only a few blurry images that could have been anything.

The creature had been nicknamed Retty, a reference to the Reterius—an ancient race of giant birds from which the Shirocian people had evolved, the wings on their backs the last remaining sign of their avian ancestry. There were those who believed that Retty was an eons-old Reterius with magical powers that had allowed it to survive for so long. Another theory was that Retty was a unique descendant of the ancient birds. Onsan wasn’t sure what to believe, but the idea that there could be something mysterious living in the mountains intrigued him.

He was so caught up in thoughts about Retty that before he knew it, they were approaching the turquoise peaks of the Tishepos. 

“Follow me!” Sevou said as he flew down towards one of the hillsides where townhouses were carved into the mountain face. Each one had a balcony bearing a number made out of colorful pebbles. When they reached number five, his father called, “This is it!” and the family gently alighted on the cliffside terrace, setting their luggage down and folding their wings back in. 

“This is even better than it looked in the pictures!” Jalua said as they stepped inside, admiring the spacious rooms. The turquoise rock walls, polished to perfection, were edged in rows of glow-stones that bathed the space in warm light.

“I guess this beats camping,” Sevou joked, making them laugh.

“This is the coolest place ever!” Peki exclaimed, running further inside to find her room, her curly blond hair flying behind her. Onsan felt he was too mature for such a display, but excitement fizzed inside him as he went back out to the balcony and took in the incredible views.

After the family had unpacked and eaten a quick lunch, they flew down to the valley floor to look at the gorgeous scenery. Onsan was amazed by the rocky outcroppings covered in cascades of chime flowers, whose spiraling blooms produced musical notes in the breeze.

The tranquility was shattered by a high-pitched screech that came from the entrance to the forest ahead. 

Peki ducked behind Jalua’s legs. “Was…was that Retty?” she asked, wide-eyed. 

Sevou chuckled. “No, sweetie, I think Retty only exists in people’s imaginations. That was the call of a critter known as a mukbu,” he said reassuringly. “It’s just their way of saying ‘hi’ to each other. They’re small and harmless, and they scare easily.”

“Sounds like you, Peki!” Onsan teased. 

She stuck her tongue out at him but held on tightly to Jalua’s hand as they entered the woods. The light was dimmer here, the air cooler. Onsan looked up in awe at the massive rainbow trees that seemed to touch the sky, their silky wood aglow in a riot of swirling colors. The trees’ dense branches formed a canopy over the trail, making flying impractical. Below, a thick carpet of bright yellow moss cushioned his footsteps as he walked. 

“Wow—it’s so pretty!” Peki said, letting go of her mother’s hand and gazing around in wonder. 

“I knew you’d like it,” Sevou said with a smile.

The family continued along the main hiking trail, the hush of the forest interrupted only by the occasional cry of a mukbu. Now and then, they saw one of the critters darting over the ground or running up a tree, its furry little body carried along by twenty pairs of tiny legs. Peki laughed when she saw one peeking out at her from behind a rock, its long antenna quivering. 

Onsan wondered whether Retty actually lived in these woods, too. If so, did it dine on mukbus? Maybe that’s why they were so skittish.

The four of them had been walking for some time when they came to a rocky slope that rose to the right of the hiking path. A small waterfall trickled down it, feeding into a stream that curved back into the woods.

“Can I go check out the view from there?” Onsan asked, pointing to an open area at the top of the ridge.

His parents exchanged a look, then nodded. Sometimes they seemed to have a conversation without using any words. 

“Okay, but be careful,” Jalua said, and Onsan took off like a shot, nimbly scrambling over rocks and ducking under branches as he scaled the slope. Arriving at the top, he waved at his family and watched the purple water running down the rocks, enjoying its soothing gurgle. From here, he could see the stream below winding its way through the forest.

To his surprise, he saw someone standing at the stream’s edge in a clearing a short distance away.

His entire body tingled as his heart raced. It couldn’t really be Retty…could it? Maybe he was seeing things. He shut his eyes tight, then opened them. The giant bird was still there.  

Taking a step forward to try to get a better view, he accidentally dislodged a rock, sending it clattering down the hill. The creature’s head jerked up at the sound, water flying from its long beak as it fixed wide amber eyes on Onsan. They stared at one another, and Onsan saw a look of fear in its eyes along with an unmistakable intelligence. For a moment, he felt something pass between them—a kind of connection he couldn’t explain. Then it darted away, making a series of clicking sounds as it disappeared into the woods. 

Staring after it in shock, Onsan heard his father call, “Come on, kiddo! It’s getting late. We need to start heading back.”

Practically sprinting down the hill, Onsan exclaimed breathlessly, “I just saw Retty! We looked right at each other! It was so cool!”  

His parents looked doubtful.

“Did you get a picture?” Sevou asked. 

“It happened too fast!” Onsan replied. “It ran off before I could even think about using my picto-box.” 

“Maybe the suns were playing tricks on your eyes,” Jalua said.

“And you already had Retty on the brain,” Sevou added.

“I know what I saw!” Onsan said in frustration.

Peki patted his arm. “I believe you,” she said.

“Thanks, Peeks,” he said, tousling her hair and sighing. Without any proof, his parents weren’t going to take his story seriously.

That night, Onsan couldn’t get to sleep, the encounter with Retty playing on a loop in his mind. If only he had evidence that it had been real. 

He wondered whether the mysterious bird was wandering around the woods right now. It was probably nocturnal; the other sightings, like his, had all occurred late in the day. Perhaps Retty searched for food at night, when no one was around.

An idea popped into his head. What if he flew down to the woods to look for it? He couldn’t sleep anyway, and if he could get a picture of the creature, his parents would know that he’d been telling the truth.

Grabbing a glow-light and his picto-box, he tiptoed past the rooms where Peki and his parents were sleeping, then crept out onto the balcony. The sky was a sea of stars, and twin crescent moons cast a soft light over the valley below.

Onsan flew down to the forest’s edge, a mixture of excitement and fear making his stomach flutter. Was he actually doing this? His parents would freak out if they knew what he was up to. 

“C’mon, don’t be a wimp,” he told himself as he walked into the woods, the glow-light illuminating his way. The mukbus must have been sleeping—the forest was silent. He shivered in the chilly night air, wishing he’d grabbed a jacket.

He walked for a long time, shining the glow-light into the woods and constantly scanning his surroundings, but there was no sign of Retty. Eventually, tired and disappointed, he decided to head back. It was then he noticed that the path had narrowed; he’d been so caught up in looking around for Retty that he didn’t realize he’d wandered onto a side trail.

Fear rising, he tried to backtrack, but the main trail was nowhere to be found. He’d have to keep following the little path he was on and hope it led back to the valley.

After trekking for what felt like forever, he still seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Panic starting creeping in. What was he going to do?

Just then, he heard a clicking noise off to his left. He knew that sound.

Retty.

The clicking started to get further away—the creature was on the move. Onsan ran towards the sound, dodging roots and rocks as he zig-zagged through the trees, not caring that he was no longer on any path. If he got close enough, he’d be able take a picture. But no matter how fast he moved, he couldn’t seem to gain on it.

Just as he began to think he wouldn’t be able to run for much longer, the clicking stopped, the silence of the forest abruptly returning. Onsan’s heart sank. He’d lost Retty, and he had absolutely no idea where he was. 

Waving the glow-light around, he was stunned to find that the forest entrance was just ahead. Giddy with relief, he ran towards it, emerging into the valley. It couldn’t have been a coincidence that he’d ended up here—he just knew it.

Retty had guided him back to safety.

Onsan had to fight to stay awake during the family’s activities at the lake the next day, telling his parents he hadn’t slept well in the unfamiliar room. He went to bed as early as Peki that evening and dreamed that he and Retty were soaring through the valley at night, the lake below them aglitter with the reflection of the star-strewn sky.

The following night, after a day of sightseeing in a nearby town, Onsan prepared for another visit to the woods. He’d come up with a new plan: instead of wandering around in search of Retty, he would hang out at the clearing where he’d seen it. If it was a creature of habit, Retty might return to the same spot, and Onsan would be ready with his picto-box.

After everyone was asleep, he flew down to the forest and walked the short distance to the clearing. The stream Retty had drunk from glinted in the light of the twin moons. Looking around for a place to hide, Onsan saw a rock formation near the edge of the stream.

“Perfect,” he said, heading towards it.

As he stepped behind the rocks, his feet slid out from under him, the picto-box and glow-light flying from his hands. Trying to stand up, he felt his legs sinking into something cold and sticky. 

“What the heck?” he yelled.

He hadn’t seen the mud puddle hidden in the shadow of the rocks, and now he was horrified to find that he was waist-deep in the thick goop. 

Onsan tried desperately to free himself, but he could hardly move his legs, and there was no way to push himself out. The heavy goo was freezing; his teeth were chattering and his legs felt fuzzy, like they had pins and needles. He had never been so scared in his entire life. 

“Help!” he cried. “Please! Someone!”  

He was met by only silence, except for the sound of his pulse thundering in his ears. 

Onsan kept calling for help until he was hoarse, growing more cold and tired as time went on. He wished he had never come up with this crazy plan. 

Suddenly, a shadow fell across him. Onsan looked up and saw Retty looming above him, its clear feathers twinkling in the moonlight. 

Was he hallucinating?

It took Onsan a minute to realize that the creature wanted him to grab hold of its beak. He reached out, the long beak cold and rough under his fingers as he gripped it with all his strength.  

Retty raised its head, pulling Onsan’s arms up, but his legs didn’t budge. His hopes plummeted. He’d never get out of here.

As he held on, Retty lowered its head again, then yanked it back up hard. With a slurping sound, Onsan’s legs popped free of the goo, and he collapsed to the ground. 

“Thank you!” Onsan exclaimed, not expecting the bird to understand him. “You saved my life!” 

Retty regarded him intently. A look that Onsan couldn’t identify flashed in its eyes, and he felt the same sense of connection he had experienced when they’d first seen each other. A moment later, the fantastic being raced off into the night.

The following morning, Onsan shuffled into the townhouse’s kitchen, where Sevou was cooking breakfast while Peki and Jalua set the oversized table. 

“Hey, look who’s finally up!” Sevou teased.

Leaning against the doorway, hands behind his back, Onsan cleared his throat. “I have something to tell you,” he announced.

“Uh-oh, sounds like trouble,” Jalua quipped.

In great detail, Onsan recounted the events of the two nights he’d spent in the forest. Peki’s eyes widened as he spoke, while his parents looked amused. 

When he had finished talking, Sevou let out a low whistle. “Wow, sounds like you’ve been having some pretty exciting dreams,” he said.

“It’s so soft!” Peki said, gently stroking the plume, which was almost as big as she was.

“Where…where did you get this?” Sevou stammered.

“It was lying on the ground near the mud pit. It must have come loose when Retty pulled me out,” Onsan replied.

Jalua suddenly looked aghast. “You mean those stories you just told us were real?!” she cried. “Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” Tears shone in her eyes, and Onsan bowed his head guiltily. 

“I’m sure you realize there will be consequences for your actions, and we’ll discuss your punishment later,” Sevou said. “You’re old enough to know better. But I can understand why you felt compelled to prove you were telling the truth. I’m sorry I doubted you.” 

“Me too, honey,” Jalua said.

“And I’m sorry for sneaking off,” Onsan said. 

Peki wrapped her brother in a hug. “I bet you’re going to be famous now!” she said, making him laugh.

“Your sister may be right,” Sevou said. “This is the first real evidence that Retty exists. Once word about all this gets out, a lot of people will probably want to try to see the creature, and researchers will most likely want to study it.”

Onsan didn’t like the sound of that. “But Retty is scared of people! It just wants to be left alone. What if they want to catch it and do tests or something? They might hurt it,” he said, his brows furrowing with worry.

His father looked uncertain. “I suppose there is that risk. But it would be a valuable learning opportunity,” he said.

Onsan shook his head emphatically. “Retty saved me—twice! I can’t let anything bad happen to it. We need to keep this a secret.”

Sevou arched an eyebrow and looked at Jalua.

“We don’t have to decide anything right now,” she said. “We can talk about it after we get back home.”

Onsan unzipped the big pouch he kept under his bed and took the feather out to admire it yet again. The family had returned from their trip a while ago, but he never got tired of looking at the remarkable plume. 

After much discussion, his parents had agreed to keep the feather and Onsan’s experiences with Retty a secret. Peki, thrilled to be part of something so exciting, didn’t breathe a word to anyone. 

Onsan thought about Retty often. He wondered whether the strange being had felt the same connection that he’d experienced. Perhaps it sensed that Onsan was someone to be trusted—maybe that was why it had helped him, in spite of its fear. He’d never know for sure.

He may have missed out on the chance to be famous, but protecting Retty was far more important. Besides, Onsan knew he had gained something priceless: the memories of his encounters with the incredible creature that had saved his life, and the extraordinary feather it had left behind. They were the perfect souvenirs from a vacation he would never forget.