“I made it to the beast’s back and ran up the double spine, digging in with my knives so that it couldn’t shake me off.
“It only took seconds to get up to the beast’s head. But that was where the greatest difficulty waited. My ice cutters were only… about as long as your forearm, maybe. The claw beast’s hide was twice as thick. I swung my arm down as hard as I could, slashing through the first layer of fur and membrane. The claw beast screamed and reared back on its hindmost legs. I almost fell.
“I lodged four of my hands into its hide—it screamed and thrashed. With the other two, I took turns cutting at the gash I’d made. The skin was so thick and tough, I didn’t know if I would be able to saw through.
“The claw beast went berserk. It shook so hard that it was all I could do to hold on for a moment. But time was running out for Harness Light. I shoved my hands into the hole and tried to rip it open.
“Then the claw beast threw itself backward onto the ice.
“If we hadn’t been over its lair, the pit it had dug to hide in, that would have crushed me. As it was, though it knocked me silly, the fall actually helped. My knives were already in the beast’s neck. When I hit the ground, the weight of the beast drove my cutters deep through its skin. Deeper than I needed.
“We were both stunned; I was half smothered. I knew I had to do something right away, but I couldn’t remember what it was. The beast started to roll, dazed. The fresh air cleared my head, and I remembered Harness Light.
“Protecting him from the cold as well as I could in the soft side of my hands, I moved him from my egg pocket into the claw beast’s neck.
“The beast got to its feet and bucked again. This time I flew off. I’d let go of my hold to insert Harness Light, you see. The claw beast was infuriated. The wound on its head wasn’t nearly enough to kill it—just annoy it.
“The snow had settled enough that I was in plain sight, especially as I was painted with the beast’s blood. It’s a very bright color, a color you don’t have here. It raised its pincers, and they swung toward me. I thought that was it, and I was comforted a little that at least I would die trying.
“And then the pincers hit the snow beside me. I couldn’t believe it had missed! I stared up at the huge, hideous face, and I almost had to… well, not laugh. Bears don’t laugh. But that was the feeling. Because that ugly face was torn with confusion and surprise and chagrin. No claw beast had ever worn such an expression before.
“It had taken Harness Light a few minutes to bind himself to the claw beast—it was such a big area, he really had to extend himself. But then he was in control. He was confused and slow—he didn’t have much of a brain to work with, but it was enough that he knew I was his friend.
“I had to ride him to the crystal city—to hold the wound closed on his neck until we could reach a Healer. That caused quite a stir. For a while they called me Rides the Beast. I didn’t like it. I made them go back to my other name.”
I’d been staring ahead, toward the lights of the hospital and the figures of the souls crossing in front of those lights, as I told the story. Now I looked at Jared for the first time. He was gaping at me, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open.
It really was one of my best stories. I’d have to get Mel to promise that she’d tell it to Jamie when I was…
“They’re probably finished unloading, don’t you think?” I said quickly. “Let’s finish this and get back home.”
He stared at me for one more moment, and then shook his head slowly.
“Yes, let’s finish this, Wanderer, Lives in the Stars, Rides the Beast. Stealing a few unguarded crates won’t present much of a challenge for you, will it?”
CHAPTER 52
Separated
We brought our plunder in through the south vent, though this meant that the jeep would have to be moved before dawn. My main concern with using the bigger entrance was that the Seeker would hear the commotion our arrival was sure to cause. I wasn’t sure if she had any idea of what I was going to do, and I didn’t want to give her any reason to kill her host and herself. The story Jeb had told me about one of their captives—the man who had simply collapsed, leaving no external evidence on the outside of the havoc wreaked inside his skull—haunted my thoughts.
The hospital was not empty. As I squeezed myself through the last tight bubble of space out into the main room, I found Doc preparing for the operation. His desk was laid out; on it, a propane lantern—the brightest illumination we had available—waited to be lit. The scalpels glinted in the duller blue light of the solar lamp.
I had known that Doc would agree to my terms, but seeing him thus occupied sent a wave of nervous nausea through me. Or maybe it was just the memory of that other day that sickened me, the day I’d caught him with blood on his hands.