My hand drifted to my thigh where my dagger was strapped. My mouth dried as I contemplated when to use it. Dwellers crowded around me, continuing to pour into the nest like water from an endless spigot.
My dweller pushed me, leading me toward the big creature on the other side of the nest, guiding me past holes like the one that had trapped Fowler. I wasn’t the only one being delivered up to this monster. Another person, a man, wept and struggled as another dweller pulled him forward too. He reached the monster before I did.
“No, no! Help me, no, please!” he cried. His voice cut off suddenly on a wet, gurgling shout.
Bones cracked and blood flowed like hot copper on the air. I flinched, bile rising in my throat. I fumbled to free my blade. Its hilt filled my palm, solid and comforting. I held tightly to it as I was launched through the air.
I fell at the feet of the beast, pain jarring my knees. The ground was sticky with warm blood and bits of fleshy material I dared not contemplate.
The monster’s great jaws worked, crunching and grinding the last of the man sacrificed before me.
I shoved myself to my feet, squaring up in front of the massive dweller as it finished eating its victim. The beast’s size alone told me it was no ordinary dweller, but there was also the way the other dwellers followed its command. It ruled them. It was so big I doubted it possessed much mobility. They served it . . . this thing was their queen.
I felt its arms stir on the air as it reached for me. I dove to the right. Stretching out my hand, I skimmed a palm against its dense, pasty body, circling it. I had to risk touching it, getting close. It was the only way.
Moving as quickly as I could, I jumped on its back and crawled up its great girth, stabbing with my dagger into the dense meat of its body as I went, using my blade for leverage.
Once I neared its head and its squat neck, I reached around with my arm and started sawing through the doughy skin. Panting, I kept going, digging deep with my blade, ignoring its writhing movements and the hot, slippery flow of blood over my fingers. Its agonized scream stabbed my ears. I choked in relief as that scream reduced to a wet gurgle. It finally stopped moving.
Gasping, I slid down the length of its body and landed shakily on my feet. The air continued to wheeze out of me. Saliva flooded my mouth.
I wiped bloody hands against my trousers and listened to the faint breathing of the other dwellers. They all stood immobilized, frozen, their attention fixed on me. Waiting for my next move.
THIRTY-FIVE
Fowler
SHE WAS REALLY gone.
Nothing mattered anymore. Pain mingled with numbness. Pain at losing Luna, but numbness over my fate. The future didn’t matter. Whether there was a tomorrow didn’t signify.
I didn’t even care when more horse hooves thundered over the air. Tebald and his men arrived, and I sat there, staring into the swirling dark as the two armies of soldiers drew swords on each other. They could fight their stupid battle, play out their senseless war with each other. The reason they were fighting didn’t matter anymore.
It would better serve the world if they killed each other off. I accepted that fact grimly. I would do nothing. I would stand amid it all, staring without seeing, without caring, because Luna was dying somewhere without me. Dimly, I registered my father and King Tebald hurling challenges and insults back and forth at each other. I stared ahead, my eyes burning as I focused on the spot where I had last glimpsed Luna.
Gradually another sound penetrated through the bantering threats and insults. I frowned, peering into the darkness where I had last seen Luna.
A cacophony of cries rent the air with the suddenness of wings flapping in the sky. Dwellers’ cries. An entire herd of them, more than I had even witnessed outside the village of Ortley, where Luna and I had gone for the kelp. I snorted, enjoying the irony that my father would die at the hands of dwellers when he himself had sent so many people to face their insatiable hunger.
The soldiers panicked, crying out and breaking formation as dwellers materialized out of the dark. The creatures’ sawing breaths formed a humming fog on the air. For some reason they stood in a perfect, uniform line, gazing at the army of scattering men, waiting, it seemed, for something.
The dogs whimpered and broke, running away, wise enough to know their odds of survival were poor. Tebald’s and my father’s commanding officers shouted, trying to whip the men into some order. The soldiers attempted to form their own lines, lifting up their shields and swords in readiness. Several started shooting arrows into the tide of dwellers as if that would make a difference with an army of creatures this size.
I watched, laughter bubbling up from my chest, indifferent to any threat to myself. I looked back and forth between the two kings who had wrought so much damage. My father must have sensed my stare or heard my laughter. His wild-eyed gaze found mine.