the roiling mist, replacing the watery yellow light of the exterior landscape with an intensely shimmering blue.
“Might you risk removing your blindfold, Clarissa?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I sense enough through my eyelids to know we’re surrounded by a peculiar radiance, and a gentle one, but it remains too much for me.”
The path inclined downward.
We trekked along it for maybe half an hour before a gurgling moan echoed from somewhere ahead of us.
My hair stood on end.
“What was that?” Clarissa whispered.
“Amu’utu,” one of the Koluwaians answered.
I glanced at Yazziz Yozkulu. All the Wise Ones had crouched down and were now absolutely motionless, with their spears at the ready.
Kata and the other islanders held the children back. The Yatsill youngsters stood quietly. Even their fingers stopped wiggling.
A Koluwaian man hissed at me, “Don’t move!”
I felt Clarissa’s fingers tighten on my arm.
A few yards in front of us, the path curved out of sight, disappearing behind an outcropping of rock. From around that bend, another awful moan now sounded, along with a scraping and the rattle of falling stones. There was something dreadfully uncanny about the noises. I trembled uncontrollably and would have taken to my heels were it not for Clarissa’s firm grip.
A huger spidery leg came into view, but, bizarrely, it angled up to the cavern roof rather than down to the floor. It was a bluish-white, with long thorns projecting downward from its leading edge. I tried to back away but Kata whispered, “No! It will sense you!”
I froze—with terror, I admit—for the creature was coming into full view now.
The wormy blue-coloured body of the Amu’utu was around fifteen feet high and shaped somewhat like an upside-down cone. Three multi-jointed legs extended from the upper, thicker part of it and disappeared into the mist and shadows above us, where their ends clung to the ceiling by means that were hidden from view. As it moved, small fragments of rock dropped from above it. The thinner end of the creature, which hung six feet above the ground, flowered outward into a complex arrangement of snappers, teeth, jaws, and hook-like appendages. Its skin was semi-transparent and fluttering organs could be glimpsed pulsating within it, as could the blood, which radiated a milky blue as it throbbed through arteries and veins.
The monster swung slowly and deliberately toward our group then stopped. Pinkish light suddenly flowed in waves across its skin and I had the distinct impression that it was extending its senses into the cavern, groping around with them, seeking movement, seeking food—seeking us!
The Yatsill and Koluwaians remained motionless, as did my companion and I.
A tremendously long spiny tongue slid out of the Amu’utu’s twitching maw, its end slithering to the ground where it began to feel about, like a blind serpent.
All of a sudden, without any indication they were about to do so, the Wise Ones scattered, each of them scurrying in a different direction.
The Amu’utu let loose a tremendous whistle, sounding exactly like a locomotive venting steam. The tongue whipped up, shot out, coiled around one of the Yatsill, and started to drag it toward the flexing jaws. Its prey—it was the individual with the rope around its shoulder—kicked and struggled and cried out, “My name is Tokula Pathamay, and I die untaken!”
“Untaken!” Yazziz Yozkulu shouted. “The Saviour has favoured you! You will be delivered to Phenadoor!”
The Wise Ones rushed in, jabbing their spears into the giant beast, aiming for the visible organs. Blood spurted and the Amu’utu shook and shuddered. A second tongue flopped out of its maw and wrapped around Tokula Pathamay’s four legs, yanking the Yatsill up into the jaws, which, with a horrendous crunch, closed over the victim’s head. I choked back a cry of horror and was almost pulled off my feet by Clarissa, who hissed, “Tell me, Aiden! Tell me what’s happening!”
The Amu’utu’s colour darkened to a sickly green and its whistle changed into a weird clanging. It dropped the shattered remains of the Yatsill and slumped closer to the ground. One of its three legs lost its grip on the cavern roof and folded as it descended. Then the whole thing suddenly fell and hit the floor with a squishy impact. Yazziz Yozkulu led the Wise Ones as they charged at the stricken monster and plunged their weapons deep into its body.
“An animal attacked us,” I whispered. “A demonic thing. The Yatsill are killing it but they’ve lost one of their number.”
A final chime escaped the Amu’utu. It gave a twitch and