Chapter 1

Normally, the farm greeted her with a chorus of sounds. Yapper the dog would bark his cheerful good morning. Jump the cat would meow for his breakfast. The cows would moo in the distance, and the sheep would baa from the paddock. Even the mice in the barn would squeak as they scurried about.

But this morning, there was nothing.

Ruby sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Sunlight streamed through her window, casting golden squares on her patchwork quilt. She pulled on her favourite blue boots and ran downstairs.

"Mum?" she called. "Dad?"

The kitchen was empty. A note on the table said they had gone to town for supplies. Ruby poured herself some cereal and ate quickly, eager to check on the animals.

She found Yapper first. The little brown and white dog lay in his basket near the back door, his head on his paws. His tail didn't wag when he saw her. His ears didn't perk up. He just stared at her with big, worried eyes.

"Yapper?" Ruby knelt beside him. "What's wrong, boy?"

Yapper whined softly. It was a sad, hollow sound that made Ruby's chest ache.

Then she found Jump. The ginger cat usually greeted her by weaving between her legs and purring like a tiny motor. Today he sat on the porch, his tail wrapped around his paws, staring at nothing. When Ruby reached out to stroke him, he didn't move. He only blinked slowly.

"Jump?" Ruby whispered. "Are you sick?"

Jump let out a weak meow that sounded more like a question than an answer.

Ruby walked to the barn. The cows stood in a huddle, their heads low. The sheep huddled together too, not nibbling at the grass. Even the chickens didn't cluck or scratch at the ground. They just stood there, still and silent.

Something was very, very wrong.

Ruby spent the whole morning trying to cheer them up. She threw a stick for Yapper, but he didn't chase it. She dangled a string for Jump, but he didn't pounce. She offered the cows fresh hay, but they only sniffed it and turned away.

By lunchtime, Ruby felt like crying. These animals weren't just pets or farm animals. They were her friends. And something had taken away their spark.

She sat on the back steps, hugging her knees. The sun was warm on her face, but she felt cold inside.

That's when she saw it.

A strange lump was moving slowly across the yard. It was round and furry, with short legs and a waddling walk. As it got closer, Ruby realised it was a wombat. An old wombat, with grey patches on its fur and a scar on one ear.

Wombats didn't live near her farm. They lived in the bush, far away. Ruby had never seen one up close before.

The wombat stopped right in front of her. It looked up at her with small, dark eyes. Then it opened its mouth.

"Grrmph wrmble grrr."

The sound was strange. It didn't sound like words. It was more like a grumble and a rumble mixed together. But somehow, Ruby understood it perfectly.

It said: "Hello, child. I have come from far away."

Ruby's mouth fell open. She stared at the wombat, her heart pounding.

"You... you spoke?" she whispered.

The wombat grumbled again. "Wrmph grrmble mrmph."

"I heard of the problems you face here. But I do not know exactly what is going on."

Ruby's head spun. She was talking to a wombat. A real, live wombat. And she could understand him.

"The animals," she said quickly. "They're all acting strange. Yapper won't play. Jump won't purr. The cows and sheep just stand around. I don't know what happened."

The wombat nodded slowly. "You must ask them."

"Ask them?" Ruby said. "But they can't talk. Not like you."

"They can," the wombat said. "You just need to listen in the right way."

He took a step closer. "Here is what you must do. When you want to speak to Jump, make a meow sound. But as you make the sound, you must think as hard as you can about what you want to say. Think the words directly at him. He will understand."

Ruby's eyes went wide. "Really?"

"Yes," the wombat said. "The same with all the others. Make a moo sound to the cows, and think your words at them. A bark sound to Yapper. A squeak to the mice. A baa to the sheep."

Ruby frowned. "But will I understand what they say back?"

The wombat shook his shaggy head. "Not at first. It takes time. A lot of time, spending hours talking to them, before their sounds become clear to you. Until then, you must find other ways to communicate. Ask them yes or no questions. Give them signals. Watch their movements. But you must try your best. You must find out what has happened to them, and fix it."

Ruby's mind raced. It sounded impossible. But the wombat was real, and she had understood him. Maybe it was possible after all.

"Why can't you help me?" she asked. "You seem okay."

The wombat's eyes grew sad. "I am old. I have seen many things. Whatever magic has touched your farm, it has not taken me as strongly. But I cannot fix it. Only you can, with the help of the animals themselves."

He turned and began to waddle away.

"Wait!" Ruby called. "Where are you going?"

"I will stay nearby," he said over his shoulder. "But the first step is yours. Go to your friends. Ask them what happened. And listen, Ruby. Really listen."

Ruby watched him disappear around the corner of the barn. Then she took a deep breath and turned to face Jump, who still sat on the porch, watching her with his big green eyes.

She knelt down, took a breath, and made the softest meow she could. At the same time, she thought as hard as she could: Jump, what happened to you? What's wrong?

Jump blinked. His ears twitched. Then he opened his mouth and meowed back.

The sound was just a meow. Ruby couldn't understand the words. But there was something in the way he looked at her, something urgent and frightened, that made her heart skip.

He was trying to tell her something important.

And Ruby knew, with a certainty that settled deep in her bones, that she was only at the very beginning of this strange adventure.