was pounding and there was an acrid taste on the back of her tongue—the taste of fear. How long could the big Nightwalker hold the overgrown insect back? She couldn’t help remembering documentaries she’d seen before, about how ants could carry ten times their body weight. Were Praying Mantises that strong too?
J’are had fought one of these before, she reminded herself—on the first night she’d been here. But he had been in his feral state then and now he seemed to be still in his thinking mind. Would it make a difference?
“J’are,” she sent through their link. “Go feral if you have to!”
“No—I’m never going feral again.” His mental voice was filled with strain as he fought to keep the mandibles away from his neck. “I hurt you the last time I did. I’m locking that side of myself away forever!”
“J’are—”
She was interrupted by a scream from Judge Thoughtgood. The third morphid was stalking her, while the second one—the one that had ripped off the bailiff’s head—was fighting with the two Horvath guards who had rushed into the courtroom when they heard the struggle.
And standing beside the shocked Prosecutor, who was looking at the bloody scene in a daze, was Mistress Bittlebum. She was laughing and stroking her hair, Imani saw. It reminded her of a villain in an old silent movie laughing while he twirled his mustache.
Have to stop her—have to stop this! But how?
At that moment her attention was dragged to the morphid J’are was fighting with again. She felt a surge of pain and rage from the big Nightwalker through their link and saw, with horror, that the alien insect had managed to get its mandibles locked around his throat. In fact, the only thing that was keeping it from cutting off his head was the thick leather pain collar around his neck.
“Yes, the pain collar—use the pain collar! Shock it, Imani—shock it!” J’are shouted to her mentally.
“But I’ll be shocking you, too!” Imani protested. “I don’t know—”
“Do it! Set it on maximum and do it!” he commanded.
Imani fumbled for the pain collar remote, which she still wore on a chain around her neck. It nearly squirted from between her fingers but she finally managed to get a hold on it and press the big red pain button in the middle.
Immediately, J’are stiffened and she felt a wave of pain rolling through him. The morphid was caught in the pain loop too—its body started spasming and a high, unearthly shrieking sound rose from between its parted mandibles, which were still hooked into the pain collar.
Imani started to let up on the button but J’are shouted mentally,
“No! Keep it up—it’s the only way!”
“But I’m afraid the collar will overload your system!”
How long could his heart hold out with so much pain coursing through his big body? How long—
“No! Give me that—I won’t let you harm another one of my children, you little bitch!”
Lady Bittlebum shoved Imani and grabbed for the remote. Imani started to fall and reached out reflexively, grasping for something to hold onto. By chance, her fingers caught in the looping curls of the lemon-yellow wig the other woman was wearing.
The wig came off in her hand and Lady Bittlebum shrieked and grabbed at her head—which was mostly bald, with only a few tufts of mousy brown hair scattered here and there.
“My hair! Give me back my hair, you bitch!” she shrieked at Imani. Forgetting about the pain collar remote, she made a frantic grab for the wig.
Imani almost let it go—she had the impulse to throw it in the other woman’s face to use it as a distraction. But then something made her hold onto it.
“Use it, daughter—you know how!” a warm, feminine voice said in her ear.
Goddess? Imani thought wildly and then images flashed across her mind’s eye—pictures of Lady Bittlebum rubbing one hand over her hair and then over the morphids antennae as she ordered them to do her bidding.
Gripping the wig tighter, she tore it away from the other woman’s grasping hands and started to go to J’are, who was still locked in a rictus of pain with the morphid twitching on top of him.
“Here! Come here, my children and help me!” Lady Bittlebum shouted, distracting her.
Looking up, Imani saw that the two morphids who had been stalking Judge Thoughtgood were coming towards her. They had killed the Horvath guards—the two scaly bodies lay decapitated on the floor in pools of black blood. The judge had dived under her podium and was