Wuftoom

by Mary G. Thompson

  The young ones helped him forward until they were near the fire, and they all sat in the water, which felt soothing on Evan’s back. The noise of excited whispers filled the cave. Clearly nothing so exciting had happened in a long time. On one side of him were Suzie and Ylander, on the other were Jordan and some other young ones. Jordan rubbed his lips together.

  “What are they like?” Jordan whispered, sounding half frightened, half awed.

  Evan looked at him uneasily. “Ugly and mean,” he answered.

  “Wow. But you fought them off!”

  “I didn’t,” said Evan. “Tret and Suzie did. I couldn’t even load without Suzie’s help.” Jordan still looked admiring, and Evan couldn’t help but feel proud. Jordan Bates admired him!

  “I’m sure I couldn’t have either,” said Jordan.

  Evan thought that Jordan probably would have been able to load and hit the target, but he could see that Jordan was being sincere. “You’re a good shot,” Evan said. “You don’t have to worry.”

  “No, I’m not,” said Jordan. “And look what they did to you even with two others. What if they caught one of us alone?” His eyes glowed with fearful excitement.

  “We don’t travel alone,” said Evan. “That’s what Tret said. We always hunt in groups of three.” Jordan pressed his lips together harder, and Evan hadn’t convinced himself. He changed the subject. “What do you think this ceremony’s all about? What will our names be?”

  “Wait, didn’t you bring back the dead Vitflys?” asked Jordan. “Do you think we’ll get to try them?”

  Evan had tried to keep it from his mind, but the craving to eat them had been with him since he first saw their sharp fangs coming at him. It had grown even as they whispered threats into his mind, and now that someone had said it out loud, it filled him from his membrane to his inner flesh.

  In unison, the new ones bared their fangs and caught each other’s glowing eyes. They craned their necks to see, but they saw only a mix of other creatures frying. Evan saw a great many spiders, Nobs, Higgers, and Orpas. It must have been an especially good day for Nobs, because they leaped high and often from the bowl.

  Rayden got up and moved toward the center, where he stood not far from Evan and the other young ones. As he raised his nubs, the cave fell into expectant silence.

  “Brothers!” he cried, his voice echoing throughout the cave. “This is a great day!”

  The Wuftoom growled their cheers.

  “We all know what happened in the Yellow Passage.”

  Uneasy whispers.

  “But instead of shame and empty membrane, our young ones came back with two dead Vits!”

  This time the cheering was wild. Evan’s chest swelled and his mouth watered. He imagined their blood, their crunch.

  “Through the valor of Tret, and Suzie, and the first new one, who will get his name tonight, we have our enemy to eat!” More cheers and shouts. “Clear the bowl!” At this the Wuftoom in charge of cooking deftly dumped the roasted creatures into waiting arms.

  Then Tret came forward from behind the bowl. He was carrying the Vitflys, one wrapped in each arm. Evan and Jordan exchanged eager, bloodthirsty looks. Tret held the Vits high above his head as the entire Wuftoom clan went wild. Evan joined in the growls, and all those around him were just as loud. Many were standing, but Evan couldn’t get his legs to work. It was hard enough just sitting up. His body was on fire.

  Tret tossed the Vits into the bowl, and they jumped and crackled. The smell wafted through the cave, making the Wuftoom rabid.

  “Remove!” shouted Rayden, and the cooks pulled the Vitflys out. They handed the Vits to Rayden, who solemnly received them. From somewhere in the water, he pulled out an instrument of membrane. Evan had never seen one, but its use became apparent. Rayden raised it up and brought it down on the first Vit, and it sliced neatly in two. Rayden deftly chopped off the claws and fangs and soon had cut the two Vitflys into four pieces.

  “For the young heroes and the new ones to be named!” Rayden cried. Cheers went up, but also shouts of disappointment. Though they knew there was not enough to go around, each Wuftoom craved a piece more than logic could stem.

  Evan and Jordan were nearly fainting with excitement, as was Suzie. He felt her body shaking next to his. Rayden solemnly approached with the pieces and Tret followed. First Rayden held out a piece to Tret, who took it eagerly. He held it steady, but his fangs were showing and his body heaved. Next came Suzie, then Evan, then Jordan. All held on to their pieces, des- perate to feed.

  “Eat!” cried Rayden.

  Evan bit in. It was like all the other dark creatures combined, but more. It was saltier, bloodier, meatier, more rich, more sweet. The blood dripped down his throat. The crunch echoed from his teeth into his membrane. It was ecstasy, and before he knew it, it was gone. He wanted more. His fangs pressed against his tongue and his teeth chattered.

  He watched the juice dripping from Jordan’s mouth and saw him rub it off with his arm and lick it. Tret was doing the same, a great fire in his eyes. A growl came from the crowd, a cheer, but one full of jealousy and greed.

  The Wuftoom servers passed the other creatures around. Evan also got half a spider, which was as much by itself as most received. But it wasn’t good enough. It was only a hollow shadow of the taste and crunch and blood of Vitfly. Evan wasn’t sure he would ever like his food again.

  After a voracious spell of eating, Rayden stood up. “And now for the names!” he cried, pointing one arm at Evan. “Who stands with this Wuftoom?”

  Olen moved toward Evan from the crowd. He grabbed one of Evan’s arms and Tret grabbed the other, and the two Wuftoom pulled him upright and through the waiting Wuftoom to the center. They had to hold on to him to keep him from falling. His back burned as he rose fully out of the water.

  “This new one was marked by the Vits tonight!” Rayden bellowed. “Yet here he stands!”

  The crowd cheered.

  “He stands with the one who protected and retrieved him, Master Olen!” More cheers. “And the one who has trained him and fought the Vitflys by his side. Tret!”

  The cheers for Tret were even louder.

  “He stands before us a full Wuftoom. Never again to crave the sunlight. Never again to eat dumb animals or drink in the upper air. Never to be alone, without us, his brothers!”

  Evan’s legs wanted to sink. His arms wanted to drop and take his body with them, but he held on, twisting his arms tightly around Tret’s and Olen’s. He stared out at the Wuftoom. Their nubs were raised in cheers, fangs showing in smiles, eyes glowing with welcome.

  “He was long to change,” Rayden called, “but quick to show his mettle. He has brought another into our clan and fought our enemy with valor.” More growls. “And so . . .” Rayden extended his nub in a gesture toward Evan.

  Tret spoke. “He will be named Brode!”

  The room erupted into shouting. It was a surge of approval and welcome for Evan. He smiled weakly, but it was too much. Though they stayed in their places, Evan felt as if they were moving, running toward him, arms raised, fangs out. He wanted to hold up his arms to stop them coming, and without thinking, he loosened his grip on Tret and Olen. He started to fall, but both worms caught him and held him tight.

  “Brode!” echoed Rayden.

  Lighter cheers came, and Tret and Olen pulled Evan back to his seat. He collapsed in the water and let it flow over him. Olen showed his fangs and gave Evan’s arm a twist. Olen was pleased! Tret grinned and clapped him before pulling Jordan from his seat.

  Jordan didn’t need help, and he slid with Tret, Suzie, and Ylander to the center. He was given the name Rutgi, and when he returned to his spot, he was glowing with excitement. He began calling Evan “Brode” at once. Evan wondered if he would ever hear his real name again.

  Jordan—Rutgi—was a full Wuftoom, with no more craving for the sunlight, just like Rayden had said. He had been more Wuftoom on his first day than Evan would ever be. Jordan was Rutgi n
ow. But who was Evan? He craved both the sunlight and the air beneath the deepest earth.

  I’m Evan, he thought. And Jordan is Jordan, even if he doesn’t know it. Evan wondered what Jordan’s mother and father were doing now. How long would they search for their last son? At that moment Evan vowed to remember for both of them. He would remember Jordan’s parents, Angela, even Jordan’s dead brother whom Evan had never met. I’ll tell them what happened someday, he thought.

  Tret stood up and called for silence. He was bigger than average, and although his voice was of normal strength, the room quieted somewhat at his call.

  “Brothers!” Tret cried loudly. His voice carried from wall to wall, and the room hushed further. “Today the Vits came closer to us than they have in years. They attacked us without fear!”

  Someone let out an angry growl.

  “I, too, am angry,” Tret went on. “And I do not like to admit fear. But today we must admit it.”

  The cave was totally silent. Everyone waited for Tret to speak.

  “They have come to our safest hunting ground. No one can say they will not come here next.” There was sloshing, but the Wuftoom remained quiet. “All know we are on the brink of war. But I say we are not close enough.” There was more silent sloshing in the water. Why were they not cheering?

  “It is true we have a plan. And we can speak openly about it now that all of us are named.”

  No, don’t, thought Evan. But at the same time, he listened closely.

  “We have used human technology—”

  Growls of disapproval cut him off, but Tret only raised his voice.

  “—and ingredients we have stolen from humans, to build a device that is powerful enough to kill them all. The scholars are putting the finishing touches on it now!”

  There were more growls, but now some of them were approving.

  “When the hole is finished, we will drop the bomb on them.” Tret growled. “When the hole is finished, we’ll pick off their survivors one by one, like Nobs out of a Yellow wall. When the hole is finished, we will be the strongest of dark creatures.”

  The Wuftoom roared angrily.

  “You don’t want to hear that you are not the strongest?” Tret mocked. “When will the hole be finished? We are too slow! It is true that we have already drawn good Wuftoom from hunting. It is true that we are all hungry. But what good will our full bellies be if they are pierced like Brode’s back with Vitfly claws!”

  At this the young ones let out a growl. Evan’s body rang with it, but he did not join. What did this mean?

  “What should we do?” Tret spread his nubs to take in the waiting clan. “We dig!”

  A few more worms joined in the growl this time.

  “We dig with everything we have! We dig night and day!”

  There were growls and rasps of shock, and more sloshing than before. Evan knew how bad he felt before he went to sleep, when it was approaching daytime.

  “Use more Wuftoom, more shifts!” Tret cried. “We will eat less, but we can be done in days, not weeks. We can be rid of our enemy forever!”

  There were growls of approval and cries of anger. The room became louder, and Evan wanted to sink into the water. He let himself go a little and tried to put together how he felt. If they attacked sooner, he might not have to help the Vits. His back burned with his hate for them. But what would happen if the Wuftoom lost?

  Olen stepped forward from the crowd and stood in the center next to Tret. “I agree that the night’s events spell much trouble for our clan. But the Vitflys have attacked isolated hunting groups before. There is no reason to believe that they will come to us sooner than we can go to them.”

  There were murmurs of approval.

  “I ask the young one Tret, how will we dig with less to eat, when the clan is nearly starving now?”

  More growls. Evan knew that he had been getting more food than most. Many were lucky to receive one creature every day. From their growls, it was clear that they were stretched to breaking.

  “And I answer, the situation is only getting worse!” Tret cried. “Every night there is less food. At this rate, they will starve us before we strike.”

  Rayden stepped forward from the crowd and stood in the center next to Tret and Olen. He raised his arms high. Even though he was much shorter than both of the others, Evan saw his renowned strength. This was the warrior who had killed and eaten Vitfly.

  “This is not an easy night,” he said, and the room quieted again to hear his voice. “It is true that Tret and I are often in disagreement. But one thing is clear: It is no coincidence that the Vits have struck our new one Brode. I do not believe they could have done so if they did not have more eyes and ears than we have thought.”

  Evan froze. Did Rayden suspect?

  “I do not know exactly what they know, and this troubles me a great deal. I do not believe that we have time to waste.”

  The Wuftoom sloshed and eyed each other.

  “I call a vote.”

  At this the cave burst into noise. All around him, the young ones loudly echoed Tret’s words. He did not hear the opposing words, but from the noise in the cave, he could tell their views were strong as well.

  Evan then knew what he wanted. He wanted the Wuftoom to fight soon. He wanted to fight with them. He wanted to kill and eat every last Vit, so they could never hurt him and they could never hurt his mother. But we couldn’t kill them all, he thought. Wouldn’t the ones that were left take their revenge? He pushed the thought aside. The Wuftoom cared about him. Tret and Suzie had saved his life. He would be dead right now without them.

  Evan began to stand, to raise his voice in growling with the young ones, but as soon as he stood fully upright, he fell back into the water. Suzie caught him, and the cave faded to black.

  Twenty-five

  YOU SEE, BRO-DEE.

  Evan awoke. It was nighttime, and the cave was nearly empty. The Wuftoom were working feverishly on Tret’s new plan or hunting. Only the scholars had stayed back, twisting all of the clan’s membrane into weapons. He had slept for nearly two straight nights and days. He willed his mind to close.

  You are a heero now.

  Evan thought nothing. He used his mind to push back against Foul. It was easier than it had been with Jordan. The connection to the Vit was weak. For a minute there was silence.

  You cannot keep us out for long, Brode.

  Again he pushed, and again his mind was silent.

  You are still human inside.

  He pushed and this time he held on. His body went rigid with the effort, and he stared into the empty water. A minute went by. Two minutes. Ten. He took a long, deep breath.

  They will tell Brode all you need to know. Foul’s voice was mocking, but it sounded far away.

  He breathed out. Silence again. He stood up from his blocks abruptly. It was the first time he had stood by himself since he had been attacked. He held himself in place and focused on the water. His back was sore, but it no longer burned.

  I just need more time, he thought. The air inside his brain opened. He could feel the Vitfly, imagine its flapping wings. I’ll get what you need. Just don’t hurt her. If you do, I’ll never tell you anything. I’ll tell everyone you talk to me.

  If you speak a word, she dies.

  Evan saw Rayden watching from across the cave. He held a strip of membrane, ready to flip and beat and stretch it into a new kind of rod that he’d invented. Evan nodded a little, but Rayden didn’t turn away. Evan’s mind was silent again. Foul had made its point. They weren’t going away.

  He twisted his arms, then slid his legs through the cool sewage. They were stiff at first, but after a few minutes of this the arms twisted firmly and he felt like he could walk. He hoped he would be able to fight.

  Rayden was still watching him. Rolling the membrane around his arm, the old one slid across the cave. “Young one, you are not ready to walk,” Rayden said gravely. “A Vitfly attack is no small matter. You were cut deeply with
both claws and fangs.”

  “Master Rayden,” said Evan. His voice had trouble coming out. His throat was too dry. He bent down and took a drink of water. It took much too long to stand up again.

  Rayden continued to regard him gravely.

  “Master Rayden, I want to fight. Can you teach me how to use the weapon?” He did not say that he might have to fight sooner than expected. That he might have to beat Vits off his mother rather than tell the Wuftoom’s secrets. Rayden would not care about his mother.

  Rayden examined Evan, looking him up and down with glowing eyes.

  Evan tried not to shake. He had to look like he was strong enough to handle anything. He had to be strong enough.

  Rayden broke into a wide, thick-fanged grin and clapped Evan on the back. “Standing tall and solid,” said Rayden. “That’s a Wuftoom!” He sloshed briskly across the cave and returned with one of the weapons. “We call them Feeders,” Rayden said, “because they are designed to bring down dinner.” The old one’s eyes glowed brighter, and he showed a little fang. He held the Feeder out on top of both his nubs. It looked much like a rod, with its bumpy, membrane skin and half a Wuftoom length. But it was thicker on one end. Rayden wrapped both arms around it at the lower end and took a swing. The thick end curved as it slid through the air, and Evan imagined its bend slamming a Vitfly head.

  “I designed them myself,” said Rayden. “They are membrane filled with flesh. Strong and flexible, like a living Wuftoom!”

  Evan pulled back a little. Membrane was one thing, but flesh? How long had its owner been dead for?

  Rayden pulled his lips back from his long, thick fangs and laughed. “It is an honor for the dead to be used in this way. There is nothing sacred about our bodies. We don’t waste them rotting in the ground.”

  Like the humans, thought Evan. Inwardly he kicked himself. He had acted human again.