“Sorry, new one,” said Rayden, clapping him on the back again. “It’s the only way to get used to it. Now let’s eat!” Rayden pushed through the group of creatures toward the fire, and Evan followed with Olen behind him. There was a space at the front that had been left clear, just the size of three Wuftoom. Rayden sat down and motioned for Evan and Olen to do the same.
Olen sat, leaving a space between himself and Rayden.
Having no other choice, Evan squeezed himself between them. Their membranes were cold against his own. The sewage flowed over him and felt calming and clean.
He wished he could close his eyes so he could feel it all and figure it all out. He was conscious of the Wuftoom staring at him. The several worms who sat with them eyed Evan openly.
“We will eat,” said Rayden to Evan, “and then we will introduce you to the young ones. You will stay with them, and they will help you to adjust.”
“Is Olen one of them?” Evan asked.
Rayden looked at Olen and they both laughed. “Master Olen is one of the oldest,” said Rayden. “He’s been a Wuftoom since before the white men settled the northwest.”
“You must be two hundred years old!”
“That must seem very old to a new one,” said Rayden. “But it is not so old to us. I am more than two hundred years old myself.”
Evan stared at Rayden, then at Olen. Evan had no idea what to look for as signs of age. Like Evan’s, Olen’s membranes were neither tight nor loose. Evan had thought Rayden was younger because of his tight membranes and thick arms. They all had the same shriveled lips and smooth submembrane skin.
Suddenly, the crackling sounds increased wildly. The spiders were so hot, they danced in the fire. Evan was sure the black smoke rising from the bowl should have smelled foul, but he smelled nothing. There was a restlessness around him that meant only one thing: hunger. They were so close to the fire that the water around Evan began to feel warm, even through his membranes. It was like taking a pleasant bath, only one that awakened him instead of putting him to sleep.
Wuftoom approached the fire and reached up with long rods to pull the spiders out. At the same time other Wuftoom tossed fresh spiders on the fire.
Someone dropped the first spider into Rayden’s arms. It would have burned a human’s skin, but Rayden appeared not to notice. His membranes clouded slightly as the spider steamed. Next, the Wuftoom gave one to Evan. Instinctively, Evan nearly dropped it for fear of the heat, but he found that it was only pleasantly warm, and his membranes also took on a cloudy shade.
As the Wuftoom passed the spiders out, Evan thought about how he had watched them run. Was this one of the same ones? And Olen had said they talked, that they were intelligent just like Wuftoom.
As they passed beyond the elite group, the servers no longer gave whole spiders but began splitting them in half. At first nobody ate, and the agitation in the cave rose. Evan himself was salivating, trying not to think about the spiders talking, then salivating more. Everyone seemed to be waiting for something. Then Rayden stood up and raised his spider, giving a loud, wordless grunt. The spider’s legs stuck out from its fat and meaty body. The sight of it made Evan ravenous.
Crunches came from all around him as the Wuftoom fed. Evan hesitated, but soon he could take it no longer. He bit into the creature’s leg. For the first time he realized he had more teeth than just the fangs. They were so small and inlaid that they couldn’t be seen from the outside, but Evan felt them cutting into the thing’s flesh.
He had never tasted anything like it. It was meaty and salty and sweet at the same time. He took another bite and another. An unknown liquid seeped out of the thing and dripped down his chest, but he didn’t care. Before long, he had eaten the whole thing and hurriedly wiped his mouth, looking up to see if there was any more.
Rayden was looking down at him with an amused twist to his shriveled hole. The same green liquid dripped down beneath his mouth. A few dark hairs stuck to his cheek.
“Like it?” he asked.
Evan said nothing, suddenly embarrassed. Had the other Wuftoom eaten with such gusto? Across the room, some were just getting fed from the second batch of spiders. With relief, Evan watched them tear into theirs. But then he realized that these Wuftoom were tearing into half spiders. A whole one had done nothing but make him hungry! How could they take it?
Rayden wiped his face with his arm, then pressed his wrinkled lips to the same arm and sucked. His mouth moved back and forth across the arm until he had sucked up all of the green juice. Evan turned and saw Olen doing the same thing.
A few in the back were still eating, but all the worms had torn through their spiders at amazing speed, and most were either finished or just licking their arms. Rayden stood up and faced the circle. Many growled for more. Others just growled.
“A story!” Rayden cried, raising both arms. “For the new one!”
“For the new one!” a chorus echoed. It was so loud it made Evan’s flesh shake, but it felt friendly. There was a loud slurping noise as the Wuftoom, now finished with their meal, bent down toward the sewage and drank, almost in unison. Evan followed their lead and felt the freshness drip down his throat.
Rayden smiled, showing his extraordinary fangs. “This is a great day!” he cried. His deep, gravelly voice boomed through the room. “We finally have a new one among us!”
A shout of agreement rose up from the crowd.
“This is the beginning of a great era for Wuftoom!”
Another shout.
“An era in which we shall grow, and grow stronger!”
“A thousand more!” someone cried. A chorus agreed.
“Now, now,” said Rayden with a big, fang-baring smile. “First things first!”
Laughter and shouts of “Destroy the Vits!” “Eat them!”
“For now, a story!”
Shouts.
“Tonight, an old one, from near the beginning. I was not there, but I heard it from someone who heard it from someone who was!”
Laughter.
“It begins in a graveyard.”
“Grrr!” the crowd growled.
“Now, in those days, the Wuftoom had plenty to eat. They were the rulers of the dark!”
“Still are!” someone shouted. The crowd roared its agreement.
“And the humans were scarce. They did not have the cleverness to threaten us.”
“Still don’t!” someone else shouted. Even Evan laughed at that.
“The humans lived in small villages,” Rayden continued with a fanged grin, “and moved according to the seasons. They hunted their creatures and ate them, thinking nothing of expanding, but only desperate to survive the best they could.
“They had not invented these fine contraptions they called the sewers, so we lived in caves and tunnels we dug out ourselves!”
The crowd roared in approval.
“That’s right, brothers, we did without the humans, except for one thing!”
Boos.
“That’s right, we still did need them!” Rayden shrugged and gave an “oh well” look. “They were scarce, but we were even scarcer! There was unrest. Yes, brothers, there was discontent among the youth.”
The crowd laughed.
“Discontent among many who wished the Wuftoom would grow stronger.”
A group sitting together near the back wall roared.
“A young Wuftoom had a plan to make it happen. The elders were wary, but they, too, feared eventual decline. A disease was killing off the Wuftoom. One by one, year by year, while very few were being made. There was an air of desperation.
“When the humans returned to Wuftoom territory, fresh from the summer, numerous and healthy, the plan was put in motion. The dead from many seasons were retrieved from their eternal rest. They were stored in membrane, and when night fell, the young Wuftoom braved the surface. They laid the remains next to where the humans slept and waited for the morning. The air had burned their skins and they had risked exposure, bu
t their purpose was accomplished! For when the men arose, they stepped through the dead and were infected.”
Shouts of “Yeah!” and “Grrr!” roared through the crowd.
“Nearly all the human tribe fell ill. The Wuftoom watched eagerly and waited, while the humans prayed and performed dances for the spirits. Then one day they finally transformed.”
A cry of horror from the crowd.
“Yes, in the daytime! The proems had sheltered themselves the best they could, but humans lived in the air then, not inside as they do now. The proems screamed, and the unaffected screamed louder. The few remaining humans began to slaughter the new Wuftoom, terrified of what they did not understand. The Wuftoom rushed in!”
More cries of horror.
“Yes, in the daylight! The Wuftoom rushed in to save their kin! Their skins burned and their flesh melted inside! Those humans who had murdered proems were covered in the remains of their loved ones—infected. The Wuftoom herded off their survivors, both new ones and old ones screaming with the same cries! When they had returned underground and nursed their wounds, they found that half the original clan had been lost, either to the humans or to the sun. And many of the old ones were melted beyond recognition, still living, but crippled so that they could no longer maintain their shape. Blind!”
The crowd gasped, and the ones in the back booed. They obviously didn’t like the story anymore.
“But the clan was increased overall.” Rayden nodded to the hecklers with a grin. “And even more so, when all of the remaining humans were transformed. The village became an empty shell. The Wuftoom salvaged what could be used, and the rest blew away on the night wind. The blind and melted became heroes, and the tragedy became a song.”
The hecklers roared and splashed sewage among themselves.
Rayden smiled and shook his head. “But the years went by. Summer after summer, and no humans came. The demise of the entire tribe had caused the humans to believe the valley cursed. Now, the network of tunnels the Wuftoom had built, it was not as extensive as the sewers. It did not connect with those of other creatures, for there were no others capable enough to build them. The Wuftoom faced a choice. Wait for the humans and slowly die, or move to where the humans were.
“So they started digging, and it was a hard life. Many were worked to their deaths, others burned by the night air while keeping the rest safe. The group that reached a village were few and battered.” Rayden paused and the crowd was silent.
“A few of the young ones suggested they needed numbers fast. They suggested the Wuftoom retrieve their dead, then sneak into the village at night and set a trap.” Rayden stared down at the crowd, turning first to Evan’s right, then to the center, where the leader’s eyes rested on Evan himself. Finally, Rayden turned to the hecklers, who were whispering discontentedly among themselves. “The cycle of disaster began again. The young ones had not learned from the old ones’ mistakes.”
One heckler stood up and raised his arms. “No one suggests we take them all!” he bellowed. “There are so many humans, we couldn’t do it if we tried! We only need more to fight the Vitflys!” His friends howled their agreement.
“It is only a story,” said Rayden. He said it calmly, but his voice carried as well as the heckler’s. “Take it as you will.” And he stepped out from the center and worked his way into the crowd, who were now beginning to stand. Some clapped him on the back as he went by; others shouted friendly greetings. It was clear Rayden was not only their leader but also a well-regarded Wuftoom.
Evan thought about the story. He knew what Rayden was trying to say. That the Wuftoom should be cautious about taking too many humans. But the heckler’s voice stuck in his head. We need more to fight the Vitflys. Were the Wuftoom in danger of losing? Which side should he be on? Evan didn’t have time to think about it long, because Rayden was soon back at his side.
“Well, new one, what did you think?” he asked in his deep voice, his nub arm on Evan’s back.
“It was interesting, Master Rayden,” said Evan. “Did that really happen?”
“Oh, Master Rayden only tells true stories,” said Olen. He had not said a word since the beginning of the story, but he had watched Rayden with an approving expression.
Rayden showed his large, thick fangs, with what Evan hoped was a friendly smile. “Oh, yes, that one is quite well known. Sometimes the young ones just need reminding. Now, let me introduce you to them. Of course, they aren’t as young as they used to be—the youngest has been one of us for seven years.”
Fifteen
NODDING GOODBYE TO OLEN, Rayden steered Evan away from the center group and to the left. Evan realized they were nearing the group that had heckled Rayden. They were now sitting close together in a circle, in heated debate.
“Ah, the young ones!” Rayden exclaimed, smiling his broad smile. The group paused in their debate to regard Rayden as he addressed them.
“This is the new one. He has yet to earn his name, so you can call him whatever you’d like. New one, meet the young ones. They will take care of you.” Rayden’s voice was still jovial in its roughness, and he gave Evan another hearty back clap.
The young ones stared at him in silence, and Evan was conscious that others were looking his way as well. Finally, one of them spoke.
“We’ll take good care of him,” he said, nodding at Rayden. Evan realized it was the one who had stood up and challenged the older Wuftoom.
“That’s what I need to hear!” bellowed Rayden, and he clapped the heckler heartily before sloshing back into the crowd. There was another long silence. Their white eyes stared.
“Hello,” said Evan.
“The first new one in seven years!” cried the heckler. “I’m Tret, and these are your new friends.” He waved to the group of seven others who surrounded him. They all smiled with their fangs showing and growled a welcome.
“We all know how hard it is to be a new one,” said Tret seriously. “We want you to feel like this is your home.” Tret put his nub arm around Evan and squeezed.
Tret’s group were still smiling at him. When Olen had smiled like that, Evan the human boy had cringed in terror. But their smiles suddenly made him feel safe. He felt the water, which was nearly past his legs in this part of the cave. He didn’t know if it was pleasant or disgusting anymore. He wanted to shower himself in it and run away at the same time. His confusion must have shown on his worm face.
“Don’t know whether to run or cry, eh?” said Tret. “Well, we’ve all been there. Why don’t you sit down and have some dessert with us.”
The whole group sat down again, and the water came nearly up to Evan’s mouth. Evan wondered what these creatures could possibly consider dessert. He turned to look and saw a few Wuftoom working their way through the crowd, carrying membrane scraps like trays. On top of the trays were little balls of something. A cry of excitement went through the crowd around him.
“Mifties! Oh boy, you’re in for a treat tonight!” said Tret, clapping Evan on the back and causing the water to spray up and drench his head. It felt cool and pleasant.
“What are they?” Evan asked.
Just as he said it, one of the servers came close enough for him to get a better view. The little balls were actually some kind of creature. They looked a lot like mice, but as the server plopped one into Evan’s arms, he saw that it was different.
It had scruffy gray fur like a mouse and was about the same size, but its feet had large green claws that stuck out half an inch beyond the paws. Its dead eyes were also green, staring up at Evan with a knowing glow. It must be my imagination, he thought. It can’t be glowing if it’s dead. Yet it seemed to. Evan felt sure that a creature like this would be able to talk too, just like the Vitflys and the spiders. The thing’s belly was strangely bare. It looked almost like human skin.
“Just try it,” said Tret happily, eyes glowing. He bit his in two and chewed slowly, savoring the taste.
Evan stared back into the green eyes. They
seemed to reproach him. Still, everyone else was eating. Evan slowly bit into his. He felt the blood seep over his tongue. It was totally different from the spider. It was dense, dark meat. The blood was thick and bitter. Evan had never tasted anything like it, but Tret was right: it was wonderful. He slurped eagerly at the severed body, sucking the blood in, and finally ate the rest of the mouse thing with one swoop, crunching the sour bones. As he swallowed, a final blast of pleasure floated down his throat.
“Looks like we’re lucky to have you with us,” said Tret. “There weren’t enough to go around.”
Evan looked behind him and saw that the Wuftoom on the other side of the room were getting something different, a larger creature with less fur. He heard voices in tones that suggested loud complaining.
“But what are Mifties?” he asked.
Tret laughed. “They’re the most numerous of all dark creatures,” he answered, “but also the most sly. So it’s a fine treat when we catch a batch like this. Normally it’s just Rayden’s crowd that gets them.”
“Do they talk?”
Tret laughed louder. “Still a little human! They wouldn’t be dark creatures unless they talked. All dark creatures are intelligent. Otherwise, they’d just be animals living underground.”
Evan knew what came next. The nonsense about having to eat creatures that talked. Only it wasn’t nonsense to them, or to the Vitflys. Olen had been so sure that the Wuftoom were safe. But Evan didn’t believe it. Not with the image of hairy, hissing Foul in his mind. Thinking of the Wuftoom the same way the Wuftoom thought of Mifties.
“Do the Vitflys ever get us?” Evan asked. At this the group’s mood turned decidedly more somber.
“They like to pretend it doesn’t happen,” said Tret, nodding toward the center, where Rayden and Olen and the other important worms were sitting. “But three have gone in the past year. Three that weren’t retired to the trap. They said they were crushed in a cave-in and had the tunnel full of rocks to prove it. But I think the Vitflys caused the cave-in, and trapped them and ate them, leaving nothing but their membrane.”
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