He pulled another knot of the creatures from his neck and took a step toward the shining woman.
She was beautiful. Far more beautiful than anything Sugar had ever imagined.
She was singing furiously, holding her arms out. Whatever she was doing, she didn’t have time to finish.
Zu Hogan ran at her, weapon in hand. The light that covered Zu Hogan had extended down most of the chain. He brought the shining chain around in a side stroke like a massive whip and struck her full force in the head.
The woman stumbled back.
Sugar expected the woman to fall dead. The blow would have killed a bull. But the woman steadied herself.
She was dazed, it seemed. That was all.
Zu Hogan swung the chain again, but the woman dodged back. With a roar, he dropped the chain and charged. Midstride he reached down and picked up a stone and then he had her by the throat. Zu Hogan reared back with the stone. He was going to brain her.
“The monster!” Talen yelled.
Sugar glanced at the creature. It held the arm she’d stabbed high in the air. With its other hand, it appeared to have caught something deep in the flesh of its shoulder.
She turned to Talen. He was standing with his back up against the rock wall, tooth in his good hand. His injured arm hung useless at his side. Two of the shining creatures undulated before him. One coiled and struck, but Talen jabbed and slashed with the tooth, sending it back.
“Ready yourself,” he said. “I’m going to toss it.”
She glanced at the monster. It was tugging the tooth out. “Quickly!” she said.
Talen feinted left, leaned right, and tossed the tooth to her. She caught it in her gauntleted hand, immediately flipped it to get a better grip, then turned.
The monster it stood with all the concentration of a surgeon, its fingers deep in its arm.
Perhaps it can contend with one tooth, she thought. Let it try a second.
Sugar hurled the second tooth like a knife. It spiraled, end over end, its sharp point flashing in the unearthly light of the chamber, and buried itself deep in the monster’s belly.
The tooth gleamed once, then wriggled and disappeared into the monster’s gut.
The creature looked down, gasped horribly, and stumbled back.
MASTER OF THE HARVEST
H
unger felt the second worm burrow in. His panic rose. His arm was breaking apart like dried-out dirt. At one time he’d wanted dissolution. But not now. He saw his daughter, wife, and remaining son before him, caught in a stomach. The Mother would not spare them if he failed.
He was their only chance.
The second worm burrowed deeper, burning, burning, burning as it went.
He resisted the urge to clutch at it. If he released the one in his arm, he knew he’d never get it back again. They were as slippery as a fish, these worms. And strong.
The Mother ordered him to attack the shining Koramite. But he dared not move, dared not let go.
How do I stop the worms? he cried to her.
There was no answer.
His mind raced. Why could he not pry the worm open? It was intricate and oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it. It was like no beast he’d encountered before.
The worm in his arm curled and another piece of him tattered. A clump of soil fell to the cave floor.
No! He had to stop it. He could not bear to think of his little girl being eaten.
The worm in his belly quickly slithered up toward one of his stomachs.
Creators, he prayed in his mind, if you have any mercy at all—
And then he realized where he’d seen the weave before: it was him. It was woven with some of the same patterns as he was.
Yes, he listened to the song of the worm in his arm, its trilling and thrum. He knew this weave. And with that knowledge came the knowledge of how to break it.
And break it he did. With a great tug he yanked the first worm out of his arm.
He punched a hole into his gut with the tips of his free fingers. The second worm was not hard to find. It had paused by one of his stomachs.
Hunger pushed his fingers in deeper and grabbed the second worm. It fought him, wriggling with violence, but he knew its secrets now and withdrew it from his body. In moments he held both teeth in front of him.
The weaves were beautiful, curling in the light. Beautiful and deadly. He grasped them tightly, found