There was no sound, but a thick, viscid stuff spurted out. Then, in a wild lashing, the whole of the terrible body was upon us, writhing and whip-flailing. Kosgro struck and struck again, though never with the same luck as the first blow. Twice it had its loops around him in crushing force. Yet, as its battered head flopped about limply, he was able to tear himself free.
I could do nothing to help him, and I feared. The thing was perhaps three times his height in length, and his blows seemed to rebound, leaving no sign of wound behind.
Mostly he battered its head. Once or twice I thought him finished when those loops encircled and tried to drag him from his feet. And I could see he was tiring. If he had given it its death blow with his first lucky attack, it was a long time dying.
Twice more I saw him allow the coils to take him as he concentrated on the oozing head. Then that fell to the earth, to lie still, though the rest of the worm coiled and uncoiled. He turned to look at me. And there was that in his face which made me push Bartare against the rock and look about wildly for some weapon.
Only stones! I pushed the guide root into the front of my tunic and caught up one so heavy that it needed both my hands to lift it as high as my knees. Gripping this, I somehow covered the ground and brought my burden down on the active length of the worm. It landed squarely, though I had had no time to aim. By some chance of fortune it must have hit a sensitive spot, for the coil still holding Kosgro gave a convulsive shudder and loosened so that he could pull free and jump over it to safety before it knotted again.
He scrambled to catch me and pushed me back just in time, for the flopping became frenzied. It beat the ground and the rocks in a wild lashing of the unmarked end of its body. I could hear Kosgro’s heavy breathing through the thud-thud.
“We – must – get – up – ” He steered me back to the children. Then, bespattered with the thing’s blood, reeking with its awful stench, he stooped to lift the girl.
“Up!” His eyes blazed, as if by the very force of that uttering he could lift us all.
I caught at Oomark, who was already scrabbling at the surface of a boulder, trying to find some toe – or hoof – hold as an aid to climbing. I raised the boy until he could catch at the top. Then, somehow hardly knowing how I did it, I was beside him.
There was a range of ledges ladder-wise beyond, and Oomark was already seeking the next. I turned and was able to lift Bartare as Kosgro supported her from below. Then he joined me.
The rest of that wild climb remains a blur in my memory. That we made it was as great a stroke of good fortune as Kosgro’s first blow in that battle. But that struggle had taken its toll of him. He tried, even with my help, to raise Bartare to his shoulder and failed. So we somehow got her along between us until we reached a site well above the level where we had met the worm.
Below, now hidden in the mist, we could hear the continuing struggles of the creature. It would seem far from dead. And Kosgro said, between gasping breaths, which seemed to hurt him, “Must – get – on – It will be – heard-draw – hunters – ”
On we went, slipping, pulling at one another and at Bar-tare, who continued as if asleep in her own bed, until something within me wanted to slap her awake, so I had to set controls on my exasperation.
Finally Kosgro collapsed and half sat, half lay, on a ledge that was wide enough to give us a perch. We could not see below, above, or even tar along that. He seemed to be content to lie, breathing heavily. And I, in little better case, crouched beside him. Oomark huddled just within our range of vision, his head turning from right to left, as if he listened with terrible urgency.
14
The thrashing of the worm was a distant drumbeat. But there were now other sounds. That world, which when the mist drew in had always seemed so locked in silence, now resounded, though I thought all such noises came from safely below our perch. I could not identify them, nor did I want to.
Oomark moved closer. “First came, the small, now the larger. Soon they will finish the worm, and then they may follow us – ”
“True,” Kosgro agreed. “Time for us to move.” He eyed Bartare and once more felt, with a delicate touch, his bandaged side.
“Your hurt – it should be tended.”
“Later. We have no time now,” he told me with authority. “But if it’s true I may not be able to cany her for long.”
“How far yet?” Oomark demanded. “Look to the root, Kilda. How far?”
I had forgotten our strange guide. Now I brought it out.
Once in my hand, it snapped to a point along the ledge. Kosgro touched it with a fingertip.
“Rigid enough. We cannot be too far away. And while I can, I shall carry her.”
As if heartened by what he had read in the root, he arose and let me help hoist Bartare into her old position across his shoulder. Then once more we set out along the ledge. I needed no warning for caution. I was only too aware of those sounds. And I could guess what might happen were we to attract attention of those who feasted there. We had been overwhelmingly lucky in our meeting with the fell-worm. We could not possibly hope for such good fortune a second time.
The ledge grew narrower, and I began to wonder how we could manage if we had to climb or descend the cliff wall. With Bartare a deadweight, I doubted it we could make it.
But fortune once more smiled, for when the ledge did end, it was in a series of projections like the steps of a giant stair leading up, and these we could manage.
It was a hard pull, and once more we collapsed, panting and gasping, at the top. At the summit the root turned in my hand, pointing down at an angle to say we were above our hoped-for refuge. So dose were the mist walls about us that I feared any advance in this blinding fog might send one or all of us falling over some unseen edge.
“Down, eh?” Kosgro hunched above Bartare, looking to the root. “But if that is our road, we cannot take it – yet.” He sighed as one who has made a great effort to little purpose.
“Also,” he continued after a moment, in which I had time to realize just how great the danger was, “there is the matter of food – ”
Food! I clutched tightly that bundle. But I could not deny I was hungry. Hardly any of my longing had been assuaged during that mockery of a meal we had shared by the berry bush. If the very thought of food made me faint, how much worse it must be for Kosgro, who had not only carried Bartare, but also had expended so much energy in fighting the fell-worm.
Reluctantly I unwrapped the supplies and knew once more the chill of viewing so little. Once this was gone, our last hope of remaining in part ourselves would be reft from us.
I smeared protein paste on wafers and kept the smaller portion. And to the larger I added a choc cube for Kosgro. He did not demure accepting the larger share. Good sense dictated such a division.
Mouthing my wafer, I quickly rewrapped the food, hiding it from sight and temptation. Then I began to rebandaging of my feet. More of my tunic must be sacrificed to that effort.
I winced when I looked at them, so alien had they become. The toes were abnormally long – like – like roots! Rooted feet, shining, hardened skin like bark, green hair – I put my hand to my mouth and I did not cry out, but still I shuddered as I hurried to wrap those feet, trying not to think.
Suppose I had obeyed the impulse that had ridden me to throw aside the wrapping and burrow with my toe roots into the soil? Would such action have led to my becoming a shrub, a tree, something firm fixed in this world for all time? I must be careful that did not happen, that I did not allow my toes to touch ground.
Oomark had been walking up and down. Now he came clattering over the stone.