cowering there with only her tall purple hair sticking out and quivering with fear.
Imani saw all this in a split second and then the two morphids were advancing on her.
Her first impulse was to run but then she remembered the wig. She clutched it tightly in her hands and as the first of the giant insects came at her, she waved it over the morphid’s antennae and shouted,
“Her—get Lady Bittlebum—not me! Get her!”
The morphid stopped for a moment, as though confused, its antennae twitching as its big black compound eyes switched from Imani to Lady Bittlebum and back again.
The second morphid came bounding up as the first one was trying to make up its mind. Now Imani had two huge alien insects looming over her. Her knees felt like jelly, she was so scared, but she knew she couldn’t back down now.
“You fool!” Lady Bittlebum snarled at her, a fierce smile of triumph on her face. “They don’t recognize you as their queen! I raised them from the egg—my children will never turn against me!”
We’ll just see about that! Imani thought grimly.
“I’m your queen now!” she told the morphids, fighting to keep her voice from shaking. “I control you. Now go on—get her! Get Lady Bittlebum!”
As she spoke, she waved the wig over the insects’ antennae again, wafting the musty smell—which she assumed was the pheromone that controlled them—into the air.
For a moment, they still hesitated. Then the two of them turned at the same time and bounded towards the balding Mistress.
Lady Bittlebum’s eyes grew wide with horror.
“Wait, my children!” she exclaimed, waving her hands at them. “Wait, you mustn’t! You can’t hurt me—I’m your mother—your queen! Your—”
Her words were cut off when one of the morphids jerked forward and snapped off her head with a single neat click of its serrated mandibles. Blood fountained from her stump of a neck and sprayed across the courtroom in a gaudy crimson arc.
Imani didn’t stop to watch the gory scene. Turning, she saw to her horror, that J’are’s big body was still spasming in pain. Oh God, how long had he been under the influence of the pain collar? How long could he be shocked by it without the awful device causing permanent nerve damage?
Quickly, she fumbled for the remote, which was thankfully still hanging around her neck on the chain and turned the damn thing off. Running over to J’are, she waved the yellow wig over the morphid’s antenna.
“Get off him—get off him right now!” she commanded.
“It’s…dead. I think.” J’are’s voice was hoarse and faint and Imani saw he was trying to push the still-twitching corpse of the alien insect off him.
“Here—don’t try to talk.” Grimacing with disgust, she grabbed the morphid by one thick, hairy leg and yanked on it. The thing seemed to be stuck, however, its mandibles still clamped around the big Nightwalker’s neck. Possibly they were stuck in his collar.
Gritting her teeth, Imani yanked harder.
“Get…off!” she gasped as—with a final huge pull—the morphid corpse finally rolled off J’are’s chest.
It was then that Imani saw the blood.
Bright red, it was jetting from the side of J’are’s neck. The pain collar had been severed there, she saw, and the morphid’s jaws must have sawed into his flesh after they finished cutting through the thick leather. There was a long, jagged wound bisecting the strong, corded side of the big Nightwalker’s throat.
“No! Oh, no!” Imani gasped. She was no doctor, but she knew an arterial pulse when she saw one. The steady jetting of crimson could only mean that some vital blood vessel in the side of J’are’s neck had been severed.
Dropping to her knees, she fumbled at his neck, pressing hard to try and stop the sticky red jets. Why wasn’t his body healing itself? Was it because the wound was too deep—too severe—to mend?
“Let me go.” J’are’s mental voice was faint but his eyes were clear as he looked up at her. “Let me go, Imani. You’ll be free of me—free of our bond. Just let me go.”
“No!” Imani gasped, tears choking her. When had she started crying? She had no idea, but now salty streams were running down her cheeks and she didn’t know how to stop them.
“J’are,” she sent through their link. “J’are, hold on!”
“Don’t want to hold on. I hurt you—I deserve to die,” he sent back. “Please, Imani—let me go.”
“No, I can’t! I…I love you!”
As she sent the words, Imani realized they were true. It seemed crazy to think that in the short time