“Don’t try to talk,” said Evan. He lowered Olen more, so as much of the cool water covered him as possible.
“But we know, there can be nothing lost by knowing, and thinking and being more.” Olen’s eyes glowed, then flickered, then glowed again.
“Master Olen, please,” said Evan. “I’m going to take you back. You’ll be all right. I’m so sorry.”
“I am sorry, young one. I cannot help you now.” Olen raised a nub as if to grab Evan’s arm. But the arm fell back into the water, and the worm’s eyes flickered out.
“Olen!” The body did not move. Evan shook, holding on to him, still holding his head above the water. A Higger darted past him and swam quickly beyond his reach.
Twenty-nine
EVAN’S MIND RACED and his body ached. He had hated and feared Olen, even after he had changed. He had never talked to him, never asked him about his life. In his hundreds of years as a Wuftoom, Olen must have known a great deal. If he could remember life as a human so long ago, what strange and amazing stories could he have told? But Evan had never asked him. He had been so worried about himself, so focused on the bad things. Why couldn’t he have just asked?
Olen’s body dragged behind him in the water. It no longer held its shape and was loose and liquid. Were it not for the membranes, it would have drifted into the water and mixed until it was all gone. What would Olen tell him to do? He had come with Evan alone out of fear for what the others would do if they knew the truth. But hiding it had gotten Olen killed. Would any of the others understand?
The night was drawing to a close. Most Wuftoom were back inside the cave. Some were already arranging their sleeping blocks.
Evan made himself go in, sliding Olen’s body through the water. Tret and Rayden were together, in the center where Rayden and his group sat. Evan headed toward them. Growls rose up around him as he passed some Wuftoom, but he did not answer them. As they saw what he dragged, they began to crowd around him, so that when he reached the center, he was in a group of growling voices, bodies pressing into each other, water sloshing high around him.
Tret and Rayden watched him approach. Their eyes glowed strong, but Evan was not sure what it meant, the way their lips twisted around themselves. Evan sank into the water and pulled Olen’s body forward.
“I’m sorry,” he said. Rayden grabbed on to Olen and let out a short cry. Then Evan saw that Olen’s hunting partner, Gorti, was with them, and Gorti, too, let out a cry and grasped the unformed membrane. Tret pushed past Rayden and wrapped his nub around Evan’s back, but instead of clapping him, he let the nub rest and pulled Evan closer.
“What happened, Brode?” he asked softly.
Evan’s eyes fell on Rayden and Gorti, who were rolling Olen’s body, folding and shaping it in a way Evan had never seen before. It was clear this was a ritual, a way of honoring the dead. The other worms had fallen silent, and he felt the glow of all their eyes, pushing past him to watch the act. Tret, too, fell silent, and together they watched as Rayden and Gorti molded Olen’s body into a square.
The arms and legs of membrane hung loose from the thickness of the liquid body, and Rayden carefully tied all four empty limbs into a knot that rested in a crown above the body. They had forced liquid back into the head, so that Olen’s face was recognizable, but it was not quite shaped right. Evan had to force himself to look at it. Olen had died protecting him, had understood him when no one else had. Everyone should know how brave he was.
“He saved me and my mother from the Vitflys,” Evan said. Tret’s grip tightened around his back. He felt Gorti’s and Rayden’s eyes on him. Olen’s eyes were sunk into the re-formed head, well out of sight. Evan took a breath in.
“I know I’m not supposed to care, but I do. They threatened to kill her if I didn’t help them. I was afraid to tell anyone. I was afraid you wouldn’t let me go. I threatened Master Olen with a Vit claw to try to force him to show me the way home.” They didn’t need to know he’d actually cut him. Evan looked away from the body as he left this important part out.
“Master Olen said he understood. He said I can be a Wuftoom and still remember. He said he would help me. He told me to tell the Vits about the hole but give them the wrong location. So I did that. But they wouldn’t let me go like they promised. They were going to eat me. So Master Olen fought them. I tried to bring him back, but he had so many cuts.”
A hundred pairs of eyes glowed.
Some growled in anger and others in sympathy or sadness, so that a wild disorder filled the cave. Rayden’s group held the mass back, while he and Tret peppered Evan with questions. Evan explained how the Vits had talked to him in his head, how it had felt and sounded, and most of what he had done.
“Brode,” said Rayden, when he had heard the whole story and all its details three times, “I fear I have done you a great disservice. I was blinded by belief in our own strength, and I could not see what they had done to you.” He paused for a long minute, his mouth a straight and solemn line. Then he nodded at Tret. “Tret, it is even more clear to me that your plan to speed up our attack is sound.”
Tret’s lips twisted in silence. “You should have come to me,” he said. “Why didn’t you come to me?”
Evan could not meet his burning eyes. “I was afraid you’d let her die.” He looked down into the water.
Tret said nothing else, but his eyes went on glowing with an intense light.
“Brode,” said Rayden. His voice was not harsh, but his eyes glowed hard and steady. “If you so much as feel a tingle of awareness in the farthest reaches of your mind, you will inform Tret at once.”
Evan nodded, still looking down. The crowd slowly calmed and went on with the work of arranging the blocks for the day that was now breaking. Evan could do nothing but head to the young ones’ place with Tret.
“What will happen to Olen?” Evan asked. The old ones had moved the body to their place on the far side of the cave.
“The old ones will take him in secret and separate his body from his membrane. His membrane and his flesh will become weapons that we will use to beat the Vits to pieces.” Tret let out a breath. “Brode,” he continued. “I am not angry at you. I am angry at these creatures. This enemy so strong that they can invade our minds at birth and stunt us into half-human, half-Wuftoom things.”
Ylander and Suzie had come to meet them, and both heard this last statement. They had both heard the story as it made its way around the cave.
“Master Olen thought Brode was a Wuftoom,” said Suzie. “Or he would never have helped him.” She put her nub around Evan and gave him a soft pat. He could not look at her.
“Slow Change Olen,” said Tret. Without looking back at them, he sloshed to his blocks, tossing unartful sprays behind him.
“Brode, don’t pay attention to him,” said Suzie. “His feelings are hurt because he was the last to know. We all know why you didn’t tell us.”
Ylander nodded with her.
“Do you really think I’m a Wuftoom?” Evan asked, now looking at them. Their eyes glowed with a normal tint. They looked just as they had before.
Suzie rubbed a nub over his bald head. “You didn’t tell the Vits the truth, did you?”
Evan shook his head.
“A human would have done that. A human would have hated us. It’s in our nature to hate each other.”
“I don’t hate humans,” said Evan, looking down again.
“Look at us,” said Ylander. “You don’t hate us, do you?”
Evan shook his head again.
“Then you are one of us.” Ylander looked at Suzie and twisted his lips into a sort of smile. “It’s Tret who insists we should use what we learned as humans. That’s how he got the scholars to make the bomb. It’s a funny time to decide that forgetting is better.”
“Tret hasn’t forgotten,” said Suzie. “He just needs a little time.”
“Attention, Wuftoom!” Rayden was standing in the middle of the cave, arms raised. “You have all
heard about the heroic death of Master Olen.”
The Wuftoom were silent and still.
“He died protecting the young one Brode, and with him the entire clan. He died at the claws of—” Rayden screeched. It was Foul’s name, loud and clear and awful.
The Wuftoom broke into an uproar. Screeches of Foul’s name combined with growling and cries of anguish.
“Now they know we have a plan. They do not know the whole truth, but we must not give them time to learn. There is no more time! We attack before the next night falls!”
Thirty
RAYDEN WOKE THE WUFTOOM well before the day was gone.
Tret gave the assignments to the young ones. “Ylander, Suzie.” Tret glared at Evan, white eyes glowing. “And Brode. Rayden has decided that all those who have fought Vitflys will be present when we drop the bomb. You will be with us at the dig. Should any manage to make it up after the bomb, we will fight them. Otherwise, we will strike those that escape the lower teams. Rutgi.” Tret nodded to Jordan.
Jordan clenched his nub around his rod, and his eyes burst into a bright glow. “You will go with a team led by Blottix,” Tret continued. “You will be down in the tunnels nearest the Vit home, waiting to catch those that escape from the blast. You will kill all that you find.” Tret had not needed to add that last part, but clearly it pleased him to say it. His eyes now glowed like Jordan’s. “We’ll kill every last one.” Tret splashed off toward Blottix, who was a few yards away.
Evan looked down until he was sure Tret was gone.
Suzie patted him lightly on the back.
“Brode!” Jordan exclaimed. “I almost wish I’d been clawed, so I could be there at the dig!”
Evan twisted his lips in an attempt to smile. “You’ll get to fight plenty,” he said. “You’ll get to beat them to death with your own arms. That’s better than watching a bomb drop.” He imagined beating Foul with his Feeder. How it would sound when the membrane connected with the Vitfly’s fangs.
“I’m going to get more than anyone!” Jordan said.
Evan cringed at his excitement. The image of his revenge on Foul faded. Did Jordan really understand the danger? He had never even seen a Vit alive. Jordan and everyone else could end up empty membrane.
“Be careful,” Evan said.
“My team here!” yelled Blottix.
“Don’t worry, Brode,” said Jordan. “We’re going to destroy them. Then it’ll be a feast!” Jordan turned away as he said it, as his group was already starting to move. His fangs shone, and his smooth shoulders rippled as his pack adjusted for the walk.
The mention of food made Evan’s body tremble. He knew all the other Wuftoom felt the same. No Wuftoom had received a full meal since the naming, and growling matches erupted nightly. All were desperate for this night to end, and with a feast of Vitfly.
Tret’s group began to form around where Evan stood. It was fairly small, only about fifteen, since only those who would assist in the bomb dropping were truly needed. The rest were honoraries who’d fought the Vitflys, like Evan.
The main force gathered around Rayden, and Evan saw them raise their weapons in unison as Rayden performed a final drill. Evan was in awe of the old ones, who twisted their rods so expertly that they seemed to move faster than the water shot. Master Gorti was one of the best. He saw Evan watching and nodded.
Evan nodded back. He wanted to tell Gorti he was sorry again, that he’d do anything to have Olen back. But there was no time. There was no time for anything.
Tret was convinced his bomb would work, that those near the Wuftoom cave would have nothing to do. But a wary feeling nagged at Evan, and he gripped his weapon tightly as Tret talked.
“ . . . the force of the explosion will break the remaining barrier between the dig and the Vit home. The poison will fall into their cave and spread out. The barrier is uneven because of the rush, so I’m going to go down into the hole and set the bomb at the best spot. Ylander will hoist me back up. Ylander and Suzie will guard the dig in the unlikely event that somehow a Vit gets up through the poison. The rest of us will return to the main group. Any questions?”
There were low growls of assent.
Tret turned toward Rayden’s group and held up a nub. Rayden held up his nub and rolled it down. The Wuftoom growled, and Evan joined in. His voice rippled and grew louder with the voices of the others, until the cave was filled with a rough song. They never practiced sounds like this, yet it came together. Now Evan thought it was beautiful.
The music of the growling slowly fell, and Tret turned toward the exit, the group following behind. Ylander and Suzie joined Tret at the front, and they slid strongly through the water.
Evan lagged behind a little. Their steps were filled with a purpose and a confidence he did not feel. Of course he had not told the Vits about the bomb, but weren’t they smart enough to guess? Wouldn’t they have defenses the Wuftoom didn’t know about?
They packed into the cave. Evan had no part in the bomb dropping, so he worked his way to the back. Suzie was helping strap Tret into the harness that would lower him down into the pit. Ylander was testing the pulley system.
All the Wuftoom had weapons in both nubs and packs on their backs. Despite expecting no trouble, they had come prepared. Evan suspected that some hoped for trouble so they would get a chance to take out an enemy and eat it. Even though he knew it was foolish, Evan could not help but feel the same wish. He had never for an instant forgotten the taste of Vitfly blood. His fluids pumped through his body.
Suzie checked Tret’s straps one final time, smoothing them carefully under her nub. She said something to Tret, but Evan couldn’t hear it. Tret nodded and said something back. He walked toward the edge of the hole. Ylander held on to the end of the holster, which was a membrane rope that ended in a coil on the ground beneath them.
All the Wuftoom squeezed forward to see, and Evan pressed up against the back of them. He saw Suzie and Tret pressed together, Suzie handing Tret a dark, round object, Tret holding it reverently. A cheer rose from the crowd. Tret turned and raised the bomb high in the air. His face was obscured by the Wuftoom raising their nubs with him.
Then Tret was gone, Ylander was pulling, the crowd was cheering. Noise came from the hole below. The crowd kept cheering at first. Then Tret flew back up the hole. Ylander grasped for the pulley, but it was no longer tight. Tret hit the cave floor and rolled out of Evan’s sight.
Evan heard a whirring noise, then the sucking sound of loading rods. He had just enough time to raise his Feeder before a dark, flapping, screeching cloud of Vitflys poured out of the hole.
Thirty-one
BLASTS OF WATER filled the cave, and the Vits screeched and dived around them. Vits cracked against Feeders, and Wuftoom rasped in pain as Vit claws dug into their flesh.
Evan dropped his rod and ducked to the ground, Feeder still up. It was the defensive posture that Rayden had taught. Prepare to roll and beat, the war hero had said. Some others were also on the ground, but many were still standing, still trying to spray. A few Vits were sent up or backward, but they had the advantage. There were too many of them.
How did they know? Evan thought. A sick feeling spread through his body. A Vit dived for him and he smashed it, rolled to his right, smashed it again. Another dived and this time he just rolled until he was stopped by hitting something soft.
It was a motionless Wuftoom. A Vit sat on top of him, its fangs dug deep into his flesh.
Evan stifled a scream and rolled back the other way. He heard a loud pop, and water spewed over his back. A Vit must have burst his pack.
He dropped his feeder, rolled over onto his stomach, and lay still. The flaps of his burst pack felt sticky on his membrane. The air was filled with screeching, yet the sounds stayed above him. Amid what sounded like wild chatter were the fluctuations of Vit language. Evan willed his body not to beat, not to pulse in and out with breath so that the Vits would notice he was alive.
A warbled screech came fr
om across the cave. Evan heard the flapping of their wings change and the air swirl as the Vits retreated. Then came the familiar sucking sound, like when they went up the light fixture, but stronger. He waited and heard nothing and waited more. Slowly, he rolled onto his back and rose.
The room was filled with bodies. Some were deflated and half eaten, but others were whole. Evan almost called out but stopped himself for fear the Vits would hear him. Instead, he walked through the room, shaking each body to see if the Wuftoom was alive. The first two did not move, and the third one was nearly eaten through, but the fourth one he touched groaned.
It was Ylander. His back was badly cut, and Evan had to roll him over and prop him up. He looked dazed.
“They’re gone,” Evan whispered. “You’re the first I’ve found alive.”
Ylander’s eyes flickered weakly.
Evan dragged him backward and propped him against the wall, going on with his search. He found one more alive, a middle-aged Wuftoom named Horg. He had an old Vit scar under his mouth that had always made him look grizzled and strong. But now it combined with the claw marks on his head to make him look aged and weak. Evan pulled Horg to the wall with Ylander.
Finally, Evan came to the upper left corner of the cave. There were three Wuftoom there, one lying face-up. Evan did not recognize him. His features had sunk away and not much of his body was left. The other two were face-down. One appeared to be reaching for the other. His nubs were stretched out and lying on top of the other one’s back. Evan shook him and his arms came free.
Evan didn’t recognize him, either.
His front side was covered in Vit holes. If he had moved after being clawed like this, Evan could not imagine how he had done it. There was almost no membrane on his stomach and some of his belly was just gone, yet somehow he had retained his shape. Then Evan saw what he had been reaching for. Tret’s body was strangely lifted, as if he was lying on top of something. He still had the bomb.
Wuftoom Page 17
