Chapter 1: In Which the Amphi Pambis Narrowly Escape Death by Blimp

The day the Amphi Pambis escaped, it was a mediocre kind of day in the queendom of Bijeon. Boring. Nondescript. The sort of day that could be summed up by a shrug and a “meh” and not much else. At least, that was what Crown Princess Eunkyung thought as she sat in the royal study, reading through yet another report on the dwindling water supply in the villages. That was what she thought - until she heard the scream.

It started off rather quietly, she thought, a bit like a tiny fiddle getting stomped on repeatedly by an octopus wearing metal-soled boots. But the longer she listened, the louder and closer it got, until it was blaring so outrageously deafeningly she could feel her brains quaking in her skull.

“Eri, what in the world are you on about?” She set down the royal stamp with a thud, turning to the wailing chamberlain who had just skidded to a stop in her doorway. “I haven’t heard a scream like that since the giant ants stampeded over the mini water buffalo herd two weeks ago.”

“Oh dark day! Oh hellish hour!” The chamberlain moaned and fell to her knees. “Oh Your Majesty, it’s awful, absolutely horrendous! The Amphi Pambis, the Amphi Pambis, they’re gone!”

Eunkyung froze. “What do you mean gone?”

“They escaped from the trapper’s wagon on the way to the palace, Your Majesty! All seventy-seven of them!”

Rather suddenly, Eunkyung felt the urge to let loose a brain-quaking scream herself. “All seventy-seven,” she repeated slowly, fingernails pressing into her palms. “You’re telling me that all seventy-seven of the Amphi Pambis that were to be sacrificed later today at the rain ceremony have somehow escaped.”

Eri sniffled, fat globs of liquid streaming down her cheeks. “Yes, Your Majesty. And everything but the Amphi Pambis is ready for the ceremony - the blimp has been inflated, the turtles harnessed, the Great Big Stick of Rain polished -”

Eunkyung closed her eyes. Oh no. Tonight was the annual rain ceremony in which seventy-seven Amphi Pambis, most beloved creatures of the rain gods, were to be placed on a giant cloud-shaped blimp and released to the skies as a sacrifice in the hopes of receiving a good rainfall for the next year. This year’s ceremony was all the more important because for nigh on three hundred days, no rain had fallen in the land of Bijeon. Crops were drying up left and right, and Eunkyung would die before letting her queendom collapse. As first in line to the throne, it was her responsibility to care for her people, especially with her mother the queen ailing and abed with sickness.

“ - and the people have been gathered, the priestesses prepared - oh fie on those webbed-toed, seven-eyed creatures, curse their - “

“Eri?"

“ - transparent skin and hairy eyelids and -”

“Eri?”

“ - sticky, fat ears - really, they’re disproportionately large for such small creatures - and -”

Sighing, Eunkyung gave up on her chamberlain regaining control of herself any time soon. Catching seventy-seven more Amphi Pambis before the ceremony, she knew, was frankly impossible. Amphi Pambis, with their clear skin, webbed toes, and seven bulging, hairy eyes, were notoriously difficult to find and even harder to catch due to their agility and invisibility in the swamps they called home. They had a strange ability to throw their voices, meaning that one Amphi Pambi could croak its yodel-like croak without moving and still sound like it was on the opposite end of the swamp, driving many overly eager trappers to madness with frustration.

There was only one option left, and as little as Eunkyung liked it, she knew it had to be done. It was time to summon the Rain Council.

***

Poke. Eunkyung squirmed as discreetly as she could in her chair, angling her body away from the table. It didn’t help. Poke. Poke. She winced. Whose idea was it to build the Rain Room table in the shape of a tear droplet? And whose idea was it to make the queen, or in this case the crown princess, sit at the pointy part of the table?

“Good afternoon, Your Majesty.” The Council members filtered in, bowing to her one by one and taking their seats. Closest to Eunkyung were the two most senior members of the Rain Council, Miran and Gwisoon, who were both older than the queen and infamously difficult to work with. Further down the table along the widening curve of the tear drop sat other distinguished advisers, scholars, and priestesses well-versed in the rain ceremonies of Bijeon. At the bottom of the tear drop, as always, sat the only male member of the Rain Council, a talented scholar of rain and weather mythology named Sanghyun. Noticing his future queen’s gaze on him, he bowed his head again, lowering his eyes. At Eunkyung’s side, Miran sniffed disdainfully in his direction and turned her head away.

“I believe we are all gathered, Princess,” she said, tapping her long nails on the table.

Eunkyung swallowed. It was her first time presiding over a Rain Council on her own, this position normally belonging to her mother. “So we are. Let the nine thousand ninety s