The creature had not penetrated the mantle.
He pulled another knot of the creatures from his neck and took a step toward the shining woman.
She was beautiful. Far more beautiful than anything Sugar had ever imagined.
She was singing furiously, holding her arms out. Whatever she was doing, she didn’t have time to finish.
Zu Hogan ran at her, weapon in hand. The light that covered Zu Hogan had extended down most of the chain. He brought the shining chain around in a side stroke like a massive whip and struck her full force in the head.
The woman stumbled back.
Sugar expected the woman to fall dead. The blow would have killed a bull. But the woman steadied herself.
She was dazed, it seemed. That was all.
Zu Hogan swung the chain again, but the woman dodged back. With a roar, he dropped the chain and charged. Midstride he reached down and picked up a stone and then he had her by the throat. Zu Hogan reared back with the stone. He was going to brain her.
“The monster!” Talen yelled.
Sugar glanced at the creature. It held the arm she’d stabbed high in the air. With its other hand, it appeared to have caught something deep in the flesh of its shoulder.
She turned to Talen. He was standing with his back up against the rock wall, tooth in his good hand. His injured arm hung useless at his side. Two of the shining creatures undulated before him. One coiled and struck, but Talen jabbed and slashed with the tooth, sending it back.
“Ready yourself,” he said. “I’m going to toss it.”
She glanced at the monster. It was tugging the tooth out. “Quickly!” she said.
Talen feinted left, leaned right, and tossed the tooth to her. She caught it in her gauntleted hand, immediately flipped it to get a better grip, then turned.
The monster it stood with all the concentration of a surgeon, its fingers deep in its arm.
Perhaps it can contend with one tooth, she thought. Let it try a second.
Sugar hurled the second tooth like a knife. It spiraled, end over end, its sharp point flashing in the unearthly light of the chamber, and buried itself deep in the monster’s belly.
The tooth gleamed once, then wriggled and disappeared into the monster’s gut.
The creature looked down, gasped horribly, and stumbled back.
47
Hunger felt the second worm burrow in. His panic rose. His arm was breaking apart like dried-out dirt. At one time he’d wanted dissolution. But not now. He saw his daughter, wife, and remaining son before him, caught in a stomach. The Mother would not spare them if he failed.
He was their only chance.
The second worm burrowed deeper, burning, burning, burning as it went.
He resisted the urge to clutch at it. If he released the one in his arm, he knew he’d never get it back again. They were as slippery as a fish, these worms. And strong.
The Mother ordered him to attack the shining Koramite. But he dared not move, dared not let go.
How do I stop the worms? he cried to her.
There was no answer.
His mind raced. Why could he not pry the worm open? It was intricate and oddly familiar, but he couldn’t place it. It was like no beast he’d encountered before.
The worm in his arm curled and another piece of him tattered. A clump of soil fell to the cave floor.
No! He had to stop it. He could not bear to think of his little girl being eaten.
The worm in his belly quickly slithered up toward one of his stomachs.
Creators, he prayed in his mind, if you have any mercy at all-
And then he realized where he’d seen the weave before: it was him. It was woven with some of the same patterns as he was.
Yes, he listened to the song of the worm in his arm, its trilling and thrum. He knew this weave. And with that knowledge came the knowledge of how to break it.
And break it he did. With a great tug he yanked the first worm out of his arm.
He punched a hole into his gut with the tips of his free fingers. The second worm was not hard to find. It had paused by one of his stomachs.
Hunger pushed his fingers in deeper and grabbed the second worm. It fought him, wriggling with violence, but he knew its secrets now and withdrew it from his body. In moments he held both teeth in front of him.
The weaves were beautiful, curling in the light. Beautiful and deadly. He grasped them tightly, found their weak points, and attacked. It was only a moment and they were unraveling like a spool of thread. Their curling slowed, their song wavered. And then they stopped altogether.
The Mother commanded him to her.
I’m coming, he said. But he was talking to his wife and daughter, deep in the Mother’s cave, still caught in his stomach. I’m coming!
Argoth watched the woman catch Hogan’s arm midstrike, preventing his blow.
Hogan pushed her back against the wall, throttling her. The lines of his body blurred at the edges, blurred even her form. She was choking. Her ribbon familiars seemed to shudder with a sympathetic pain.
For a brief moment her visage flickered. One moment she was a woman whose face shone with such beauty it almost took Argoth’s breath. The next, the woman was gone, and in her place was something horrible with a round sucker mouth full of teeth that looked like it belonged on a leech or lamprey. Her undulating creatures seemed to swim with less vigor for a moment. And then the goddess was back.
She held a pointed weapon in her hand. With a quick jab she thrust it at Hogan’s gut. There was a flash, but it didn’t look as if it had penetrated the mantle.
Argoth began to believe they might win this fight.
But then the monster flickered in the corner of his eye and Argoth turned. It held up the two hag’s teeth in its rough hands.
Argoth watched in dismay as the teeth stilled their movements. Then the monster crushed the teeth and threw the lifeless twists of metal to the dust.
“Hogan!” Argoth yelled in warning.
But it did no good. Hogan was too focused on the woman.
The monster charged. With three enormous strides it covered the distance between it and Hogan. Then it dropped its shoulder and crashed into Hogan, its large bulk hurling him away from the woman.
Argoth wanted desperately to join in the battle. But the crown yet drew from him. He would be surprised if he had enough energy to walk.
Hogan turned on the monster. With deadly violence, he struck it in the head with his stone.
The monster reeled to one side.
Argoth marveled at the power of Hogan’s blow. He’d seen the dreadmen attack this thing. He’d seen the Skir Master. None had come close to this.
Hogan followed with another blow, the very air seeming to bend before him.
The monster fell back to the floor.
There was more in those blows than the simple force of stone. The mantle was at work. He could see the stone glistening with the power of it.
The ribbons of light swirled about the room. A number still clung to Hogan, and Argoth could see they’d eaten partway through the mantle.
Hogan raised the stone once more and suddenly jerked back.
The woman had penetrated the mantle with her weapon. It stuck deep in Hogan’s back.
He twisted around and caught her with an elbow.
She flew backward, but Hogan dropped to one knee. He tried to rise, but the monster scuttled over and fell upon him. It ripped the stone away from his grasp.
Hogan struggled. He delivered two more mighty blows to the monster, but they were not what they had once been. Argoth could feel a weakening in the binding between him and the crown. The monster caught the second blow in its rough hand, and wrapped Hogan in its long arms. Then it took him down to the floor in a full body hold. Hogan thrashed, but he did not break free.