Ketahn grasped a thick root with one hand, clamped another on the exposed rock overhead, and dug the tips of his legs into the dirt. With a final heave, he drew himself over the rim of the pit. The damp layer of fallen leaves beneath him was a welcome change; it was flat, for one thing.
He allowed himself a few moments to recover from the climb, though he only slightly relaxed his hold on Eight, who was cradled in his lower arms. Heâd lashed some silk thread around their torsos to ensure sheâd remain in place for at least a little while if he had sudden need to utilize his lower arms for something else.
His muscles burned, and it seemed there was no part of his body that did not ache now that the excitement of his discovery had cooled. The Tangle had battered him tonight, but it had surrendered a wondrous bountyâor at the very least an intriguing one.
Again, he reminded himself this was not the time to examine her. The pit had offered shelter from the Tangleâs many dangers, but now Ketahn and his little female were exposed. No matter how curious he was, no matter how weary and worn, he needed to return to his den with all possible haste.
He turned toward the pit, tipping his head back to look skyward.
The greater and lesser moons were nearing the far side of the break in the canopy now, well on their way toward moonfall. Each was a swollen orb, one silver, one pink, against the dark backdrop of the sky, their light hitting the pit in a wide beam that enhanced the shadows of the surrounding jungle.
With the direction of moonfall determined, he untied his spear from his bag, taking it firmly in hand, and delved into the Tangle with Eight.
Ketahn slowly worked his way higher. Remaining close to the ground wouldâve been easier on his abused body, but the danger was always greater on the jungle floorânot merely due to predators, but harmful plants, deadfalls, hidden pits waiting to swallow up unsuspecting creatures, and patches of murky water and mud deep and hungry enough to trap even the strongest vrix.
His eyes dipped toward Eight briefly. How could anything like her ever have survived here? She couldnât be more than a segment and a half tall; he doubted the top of her head would even reach his chest if she were standing on her two legsâif she could stand on them to begin with.
How could any creature balance itself on two legs? How could anything move with any speed or agility with a body like hers?
Heâd not gone far before Eight stirred. Ketahn stilled, glancing down at her as she tensed and released a heavy breath. She made a soft, pained sound that produced the faintest of vibrations in her chest, but it didnât have any of the buzzing or clicking that usually accompanied such sounds from vrix.
The thin strips of hair over her eyes drew closer together, forming a crease in her hide between them, and the corners of her mouth shifted back, pulling those bits of plump pink flesh taut. Her eyes squeezed tighter shut. Her nose holesâwhich were on the underside of an odd, fleshy protrusion that sloped down from between her eyes and ended at a point just above her mouthâflared wider.
Ketahnâs mandibles twitched, and he tilted his head.
Vrix could open and close their eyes and mouths, could raise and lower their mandibles, but otherwise the hide on their faces was firm and unmoving. It seemed every part of this creatureâs face could move and change in some way. The result was as intriguing as it was unnerving.
Ketahn moved his free hand to her face and gently pressed the pad of his thumb to the fuller, bottom flesh around her mouth. The soft hide yielded to his touch, contouring itself to the shape of his finger until it flattened against the hard teeth hidden behind it.
Eight turned her face away, making her golden hair brush his forearm. His hide thrummed as though charged with thrilling energy from that delicate touch. Tiny beads of water had gathered on her skin on her upper chest and above her eyes. They reflected the moonlight in tiny points that made even the small, flickering stars overhead seem large and bright.
One of her elbowsâsurprisingly hardâbraced against his chest and pushed. Her whole body twisted slightly so she was directed skyward. The fabric on her torso caught between their bodies, pulling tighter still over her chest mounds, enough so for Ketahn to see the outlines of their smaller, defined peaks.
âMmph,â she said.
He attempted to reproduce the sound. It rumbled in his chest, but he knew immediately it was not the same. Mmm wasnât a sound heâd heard from a vrix before, and he wasnât sure how sheâd produced it. And sheâd ended it with a breathy noiseâone that the spirit in the pit had used in some of its words.
Somewhere nearby, leaves shook, and a branch snapped. Ketahn turned his face away from Eight, seeking the source of the disturbance.
A large creature was prowling along one of the massive roots just a few segments below Ketahn, pushing through the vines and branches that grew nearby. Though the beast was mostly hidden in the shadows, Ketahn knew it simply by its size and the way it moved.
A grel. Its upper body was broad and powerful, with thick arms and long claws, its muscular neck leading to a blunt head that had jaws strong enough to rival a female vrixâs mandibles. Its four small eyes shone with tiny points of reflected moonlight.
The grel huffed and snorted, turning its head from side to sideâand most of its upper body along with itâas it scanned its surroundings.
Ketahn held Eight closer to his chest and eased along the bough he was standing upon, moving into the deeper shadows near the trunk. Grels had poor senses of smell, so as long as he kept out of sight and quiet, he could avoid an unwanted encounter.
Eight shifted, making another mmm sound, this one more pained and troubled than the first.
The grel raised its head and snapped it toward Ketahn, its long, fleshy ears standing up.
Shaper, unmake me.
Bark crunched under the grelâs claws. The beast opened its jaws, baring its sharp, inward angled teethâthe sort of teeth that hooked in with a bite and didnât let go. The grelâs growl was deep enough to make the air vibrate.
Though the grel did not likely stand any taller than Ketahn, it was far broader, and undoubtedly outweighed him by no small amount. Heâd killed such creatures before, but their strength, speed, and toughness made them deadly predators, even to vrix.
Something slapped his chest. Ketahn angled his gaze toward the female to find her hand pressed against him, its heat sinking into his hide. It sent a thrill through him. She was growing more restless, and those strips of hair above her eyes had fallen lower.
The grel would tear her apart in an instant if given the chance.
Ketahn raised his upper arms, forelegs, and mandibles, spreading them wide to make himself look as big as possible, and hissed.
The grelâs ears twitched and flattened, and the beast retreated half a step, making an uncertain, chuffing sound.
Eight stiffened in Ketahnâs arms. Her eyes fluttered open, calling his attention away from the immediate danger. Those eyes were, like the rest of her, strange. They rolled in their sockets for a moment, which was made disquieting by the white around their edges, before turning toward Ketahn.
He could only stare back. The whites of her eyes surrounded inner rings of blue, but the night was too dark for him to tell the exact shade. And within that blue were large, black circles, directed at Ketahn. Her eyelids opened wider, and the strips of hair over her eyes shot up.
Eight opened her mouth and screamed. The sound was high, piercing, and loud enough to echo between the trees and make Ketahn recoil and nearly lose his balance.
Ketahn hurriedly lowered one of his arms, clamping a hand over her mouth. Hot air blew against his palm as she continued to scream, but the sound was greatly diminished nowâthough its echoes lingered in his head.
She grabbed his wrist with one of her little hands and struggled in his grasp, kicking those odd legs and trying to pull her face away from him. He tightened his hold on her. For a creature so small and seemingly delicate, there was surprising strength in her resistance.
He glanced at the grel, turning his raised barbed spear toward the beast. The weapon was unlikely to fell the creature in one blow, but it could inflict a wound dire enough to make the grel flee.
But the grel had backed farther away, its ears now fully flattened along its thick neck and hulking shoulders. It had its head lowered, and its teeth were still bared.
Ketahnâs mandibles twitched, and he tilted his head. He looked briefly at Eight, who was still wide-eyed and thrashing, before returning his gaze to the grel. With a thoughtful chitter, Ketahn removed his hand from his femaleâs mouth.
She screamed even louder than before.
The grel scrambled back with a broken growl. Its rear legs lost their purchase, and the beast slipped, its front claws tearing gouges in the wood as it fell. Before it could recover, the grel shoved away from the root, crashed amidst the undergrowth below, and darted away. Snapping branches and huffing breaths marked its flight into the shelter of the Tangleâs nighttime shadows.
Ketahn had seen grels flee a few times, but heâd never seen one in such terror.
He lowered his hand toward Eightâs mouth again. She slapped and clawed at it, turning her head from side to side to evade his touch.
âNoh! Dohnt tuch mee!â Eightâs words were similar to those the spirit had used, but her voice was different. It was higher than the spiritâs, rougher, and it was filled with feeling. Withâ¦emotion.
He realized only then that her scent had changed subtly; it contained a sour hint of fear. If her screams hadnât been enough to attract the attention of other predators in the Tangleâwhich they certainly had beenâthen the hint of fear in her smell would surely do so.
Using a bit more force, he pressed his palm over her mouth. She grasped his forearm with both hands, digging her blunt claws into his hide, but her grip caused him a flare of excitement rather than pain.
âSilence,â he said.
Eight stilled immediately but for her trembling and panting breaths, which made her shoulders and chest heave and blew the strands of her tousled hair up and down. Her eyes glistened as though filling with water, more of which had gathered on her pale skin, and the fabric of her upper garment was damp.
âBe silent, Eight.â Ketahn lowered his mandibles to look as unthreatening as possible. âBe calm. It is not safe for you to make so much noise.â
She stared at him, eyes wide and uncomprehending, and made more of her unfamiliar word-sounds against his palm. They made no more sense to him muffled than they had when sheâd spoken unhindered.
Ketahn ground the tip of a foreleg against the tree bark. The journey ahead wasnât a long one, but it was dangerousâeven more so if she could not follow his instructions. Any creature that had spent more than a few days in the Tangle should have known to keep quiet, to stay high above the ground, to be alert.
Eight fell silent again. The passing time was marked only by the beating of Ketahnâs hearts as he waited for her to speak again, each moment intensifying both his curiosity about this little female and his urgency to reach the security of his den.
Slowly, he lifted his hand away from her mouth.
âPleez, ay dohnt noe wutââ
With a huff, he covered her mouth again. âBe silent.â
She whimpered but didnât fight him this time. He wasnât sure if it was because sheâd understood him or sheâd exhausted herself, but he didnât like itâjust like he didnât like the fear in her scent. She was trembling in his arms, faintly but noticeably.
Drawing in another breath, Ketahn removed his hand from her mouth again, halting it barely a fingerâs length away.
Eightâs mouth opened, those plump pieces of flesh parting, and her pink tongue slipped out to trail across them. Ketahnâs arm tensed, ready to silence her again, but she simply drew that little tongue back into her mouth and pressed those plump bits together. She dipped and lifted her chin twice in quick succession.
That seemed like some sort of gestureâ¦but what could it mean? Had she run her tongue around her mouthparts like that to signal her hunger?
He couldnât ignore the possibility that her kind were cunning, deceptive predators of some sortâ¦
Ketahn cast his questions to the back of his mind, where they could weave their own webs for a while. His fixation with this creature was dangerously distracting.
Holding her more snugly against his chest, he continued his journey. She squeezed her eyes shut, wrapped her arms around herself, and curled up. When she spoke again, he didnât bother admonishing her; her voice was barely a whisper.
âPleez bee uh dreem. Pleez bee uh dreem. Pleezâ¦â
The significance of her speaking, even if her words had no meaning to Ketahn, struck him as he traveled. Heâd never met a creature capable of speech apart from his kind. The Tangleâs beasts had their calls that communicated so much, but none of it was as intricate as the language spoken by the vrixâ¦and Eightâs language seemed just as complex.
Not vrix, not animal, not spiritâ¦what was she?
His.
If nothing else, she was his. He would unravel her mysteries one thread at a time if necessary. But he would not take her to Takarahl, would not bring her before the queen. He would not share her with anyone.
She remained in that position for the rest of their journey, trembling and tensing further as he climbed steadily higher. Her occasional whispers were too soft for him to make out, not that he wouldâve understood them anyway, and the jungle was mostly quiet, leaving Ketahn far too much time to battle his thoughts and the endless questions dominating them.
When he finally neared his den, Ketahn was ready to collapse. It felt as though a hundred years had passed in the span of this single day, as though the events of the morning had happened in a different lifetime. He looked upon his den gratefully. It had taken him many eightdays to determine the best way to weave together all the silk, vines, and branches to make the den strong enough to remain in place and serve as a shelter. Heâd destroyed his initial construction by failing to properly secure it to the supports.
But this den had hung for years near the Tangleâs leafy canopy, suspended by a wide silk web that fastened it to the surrounding boughs and spread its weight between them. Any creature unaccustomed to climbing vrix webbing was unlikely to reach it.
Ketahn did not hesitate to tie his barbed spear to his pack and climb the trunk leading up to the web; allowing his aching body even a momentâs rest would have rendered him unable to move until morning, at the very least. Eight made an abrupt, alarmed sound as her weight was forced against his chest, wrapped her arms around his middle, and held tight.
He chittered softly and took hold of the web with his upper hands. Eightâs alarm only increased as he released the tree and, hanging with his back toward the ground, crawled along the web toward the den at its center.
âNaht gunna luhk,â she whispered, raking his hide with her blunt claws. âNaht reel. Eetz naht reel. Oh gahd, aym gunna bee sik. Pleez bee uh dreem.â
âWe are safe, Eight,â he said.
Heâd meant to comfort her, but his words seemed to do the opposite; she clung to him, her body shaking. âDohnt wanuh fahl. Dohnt wanuh bee eetun. Pleez dohnt eet mee.â
He held her more firmly as his den came within reach, but it wasnât enough to prevent her screech as he latched onto the denâs exterior and turned upside down to move toward the entrance on its lower portion. The den bounced and swayed with his movement, but the supports were strong; it would not fall.
Her hair fell into his face, striking him with her fragrance all over again. A rumble sounded deep in his chest. Eightâs scent was as alluring as it was strange. It would be a welcome presence in his den.
Thankfully, she didnât thrash or struggle, though she did keep speaking her meaningless language in a fast, panicked voice. She was still speaking as he pulled himself through the low opening on the side of the rounded den and entered the comforting, familiar darkness.
As soon as he had his legs braced on the floor, he reached up and removed the hide covering from the crystal heâd mounted amidst the woven branches, filling the space with a soft blue glow. The relief of being home was overwhelmingâalmost as strong as the relief he was about to experience when he finally let his body relax.
He removed the silk strand binding him and Eight together and gently placed her on the floor.
She scrambled back from him until she was pressed against the curve of the far wall, her legs drawn close to her body. Her eyes were wide, she looked far paler than when heâd first seen her, and the hair around her face was damp and sticking to her skin. âOh mai gahd, pleez dohnt eet mee.â
That fear scent wafted from her; apparently, shelter and security was not enough to ease her terror.