Talen sat with Uncle Argoth, Sugar, and Legs a dozen paces away from the mouth of the cave in the clearing. Before them burned a fire to make it look like they were doing nothing more than preparing a breakfast. A number of hours had passed since the Skir Master had found them. The sun had risen. Because of the steep slopes of this valley, the sunshine had not yet reached every corner of the valley floor. But morning had begun. A meadowlark sang in the scrub a few dozen yards away. The stream that cut through this vale burbled. Beyond the meadow a huge flock of sparrows squabbled in a single tree. And yet, as late as it was, there had been no sign of the monster.

The Crab stood watch a few paces away, while the Skir Master waited by the mouth of the cave. The Crab had brought fifty men with him. They loitered in groups in various positions around the cave. To the casual observer, it might look like they stood in random places. But the Skir Master had ordered them so that only one approach to the cave lay wide open. He expected the monster to come that way. And when it reached them, the five dreadmen who stayed with the Skir Master would spring.

He'd overhead some of the Fir-Noy talking. Twenty dreadmen had been in the Skir Master's guard. The big one that was his guide made it twenty-one. But twelve of those had been lost at sea in a fire. And Uncle Argoth had come back, sniveling and cringing. He hadn't been able to hear what had happened. He doubted even the Fir-Noy knew.

The breeze shifted and blew the smoke toward Talen. He picked up the rock he was sitting on and moved out of its way, closer to Uncle Argoth. So much for the Creek Widow's theory of him being bred to greatness. He'd cracked like an egg.

And so much for the Creek Widow. He wondered what had happened to her.

He wondered about Da. The Skir Master had said the monster had taken him. Talen tried to talk to Uncle Argoth. But the man totally ignored him. He ignored everyone and sat to the side, rocking on his haunches and muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

"What do you think will become of us if the Skir Master kills it?" Talen asked.

"I don't think we have to worry about that," said Legs. "Usually the bait is the first thing to go."

"True enough," Talen said.

They were silent for a time. Talen wondered where Nettle was at this moment. He hoped he was safe but wished, nevertheless, that he was here. Then Sugar spoke up. "Once he faces off with that creature, I say we slip away. Because if he takes it, he doesn't know where the monster's cave is, which means we can walk straight into that lair and retrieve whoever is still alive. And if he doesn't destroy it, then I certainly don't want to be anywhere close."

"The only clear path is up that hill," Talen said. The outer dreadmen and Fir-Noy had positioned themselves everywhere else. Talen didn't think running would work since the Fir-Noy had horses, but thinking about escape was better than thinking of being devoured by a monster or questioned by a Divine whose ship had burned underneath him.

Uncle Argoth reached out and gripped Talen's arm much too tightly.

"Uncle?" Talen asked.

"He knows," said Uncle Argoth, his grip tightening even further. "He knows everything."

"What's he talking about?" Sugar asked.

Talen shrugged. He tried to pull away but his uncle would not let go.

A dreadman broke the tree line on the other side of the meadow on the valley's floor. He was tall and thin and fast, as fast as a horse at full gallop. He ran across the field and in moments he stood before the Skir Master. "Cos and Heel are dead, their backs broken."

"Shegom reports nothing," said the Skir Master.

"They've been dead for at least an hour."

The Skir Master studied the hills about the valley. To this moment, he hadn't yet withdrawn any of the hag's teeth. He did so now, removing one of the silver spikes from its blue velvet bed and grasping it in his white, gold-studded glove. "Where are you?" he said under his breath.

As if in answer Talen saw a stone above the mouth of the cave move. He looked closer.

"Goh," he said. It was as if a part of the hill had come alive.

The Crab followed Talen's gaze.

Then the creature jumped, dropping down with a thud only paces behind the Skir Master. In the morning light its features were clearer than they had been that night in the yard. It was a grotesque giant. And while clumps of grass still clung to it here and there, he saw the underlying color was of dirt and blue stone. One shoulder was burned. Along the other, a patch of small white flowers grew.

The Skir Master turned, but he was too late and the creature slapped the hand holding the tooth. The hand flew backward violently.

The Crab cried out. He clutched at his throat, at the spike that stood out of his neck. Then the end of the spike curled like a worm. In a flash of silver it wriggled into the Crab's neck.

The Crab gasped and stumbled. He tripped toward Talen and the others. Talen tried to scramble back, but Uncle Argoth would not release him. Then the Crab twitched and toppled into the fire. Ash puffed up in a billow.

Talen tried to pry Argoth's fingers away, but could not. He choked on the ash that blew into his face.

The Skir Master danced back with blinding speed, trying to pull another spike from his case, but the monster moved more quickly and swatted the case out of his hand. The case flew wide, disappearing into the brush a number of paces away.

"The teeth," said Uncle Argoth. He released Talen's arm and scrambled to the bushes where the case had fallen.

Leaf cried out, drew a black-bladed sword, and charged the monster. The speed of the dreadman was frightening.

"Shegom!" the Skir Master yelled and dodged away from the monster.

Another dreadman, who had been hiding only paces away from where the monster had first appeared, stood and flung his wide noose around the creature's head. The dreadman yanked his noose tight about the monster's neck. Another dreadman sprung from his hiding place in front of the cave and threw his noose. A third dreadman joined him, and the two of them pulled the creature back. It lurched into a small trap that had been dug for it.

Yards away, a dozen Fir-Noy heaved on the rope that lined the trap and caught one of the monster's legs. A Fir-Noy slapped the hind of one of the two horses harnessed to that line, and the animals surged forward.

The monster spun. The power of the horses and soldiers would have pulled a normal man to the ground, but the monster was too quick, too strong. Instead of falling to the ground, it took a giant sideways step and then braced itself in a wide stance, the grass still clinging to its body shuddering at the impact.

It reached down and grabbed the line around its foot.

Another noose flew, but missed the monster.

Leaf, the big dreadman with the scorched eye, rushed forward. The blade of his sword was as black as a crow-a spirit sword. In a blinding move he hacked into the creature's side. Talen thought he'd cleaved the monster in two. But the monster did not seem to be affected by the blow.

It ignored Leaf and yanked on the line holding its foot. The group of Fir-Noy on the other end stumbled backward into a heap. The two horses were also forced back and trod upon the men in the rear. Men cried out. The horses whinnied in confusion. One leapt forward again. The other skittered sideways. Then, as if the monster had pinched the thin stem of a weed, the line snapped.

"The teeth!" the Skir Master roared. "The teeth!"

"Here!" Uncle Argoth cried out and held the case up. "Master!"

The Skir Master turned and dashed toward him.

Leaf snatched his sword out of the creature's side. He swung the flashing black blade again in the early light, but the creature ripped it out of Leaf's hand and flung it away. It grabbed one of the lines connected to a noose about its neck. It twisted around violently, and the dreadman who had tied the other end of the rope about his waist cried out. He was yanked from his position and into the air.

The monster twisted and yanked again. In midair, the dreadman lurched horribly in a new direction. This time there was no cry of pain. The monster swung him like a man swinging a stone at the end of a rope.

The Skir Master snatched up the case from Uncle Argoth's outstretched arm and held it above his head. "Here, son of Lamash!" he yelled, his face full of fury. "Here is your doom!"

But the monster swung the dreadman around, the thick rope making a deep swoosh and hiss as it sped in its circle.

The Skir Master saw it, but he was not fast enough, and the dreadman swinging from the end of the rope slammed into both the Skir Master and Uncle Argoth, sending the two men flying.

The monster ignored the third line about its neck and charged after the Skir Master, dragging the dreadman attached to the line like a toy attached to a child's string.

A Fir-Noy standing just beyond Uncle Argoth shouted. He leveled his spear and charged in for a death blow. He struck deep, but the monster simply ran him over, then plucked out the spear.

The Skir Master rose and began to search the ground about him frantically.

There was a movement at Talen's feet. He looked down at the Crab. The man's tunic had begun to smolder; but that wasn't what had caught Talen's attention. Something moved at the man's ear. A glint of silver, and the long hag's tooth came wriggling through the skin at the man's temple.

Talen backed away.

The tooth curled an end as if sniffing the air. Then it wriggled the rest of the way out of his head and dropped to the ash.

Sugar pulled on Talen. "Lords!" she said. "Run!"

He scrambled to his feet, stumbled backward. He turned, only to find a dozen Fir-Noy, weapons drawn, charging straight toward him. Sugar and Legs ran one way. Talen was not quick enough and had to dive the other way to avoid them.

The men sped past and attacked the monster, but with one, two, three backhand swings the creature slew that many men. The remaining Fir-Noy hesitated.

The monster took a step and closed the gap between itself and the Skir Master.

The Skir Master turned and looked up at the beast.

At that moment, Leaf, who had retrieved his sword, screamed his battle cry and charged the monster again. His sword cut into the monster's neck.

The creature grasped Leaf by the throat and lifted him up. Leaf yanked the sword out of the monster's neck, then drove the blade deep into its chest. But it had no effect on the creature.

What kind of nightmare was it that could withstand a black sword of the Kains?

Then the monster twisted its grip and snapped Leaf's massive neck like a twig. The big dreadman sagged in its hand.

The Skir Master rose in fury. In a flash, he charged the monster's back. But instead of striking it with a weapon, he punched into it with his fist, going in up to his elbow.

The monster cast Leaf aside, the black sword still sticking out of its chest.

"Where is it?" the Skir Master cried. "Where is your quickening!"

The creature wrenched around, trying to get at the Skir Master, but the Divine was too quick.

"Clansman!" shouted the Skir Master, feeling inside the monster.

Uncle Argoth lay upon the ground, unmoving.

No, thought Talen. He can't be dead. Lords, no!

Two more dreadmen closed on the creature. They carried spears and harried it, thrusting repeatedly at its head. Their movements were blinding fast. But it was useless, couldn't they see that?

The creature grabbed one of the spears and jabbed it into one of the dread-man's faces. The other dreadman struck, but the monster swung the spear and and gave the dreadman such a blow to the side that Talen was sure half his ribs had been staved in. The dreadman fell over backward.

The Skir Master withdrew his arm and punched into the back of the monster a bit higher. His arm sunk almost up to the shoulder. "Yes!" he said.

The monster reached behind its back. The Skir Master moved to one side, but then in a blinding flash the monster's other elbow slammed into the Skir Master and sent him flying.

The Skir Master landed with a grunt many yards away on a clump of scrub.

The monster made a sound. A loud, horrible sigh. And turned toward the Skir Master.

Men littered this small battlefield. Talen looked around and saw a number of the Fir-Noy running. Those that did remain hesitated. The only dreadman still alive of those that had stayed by the cave was the one the monster had been dragging behind him. He stood, holding his side. He'd cut the rope connecting him to the monster, but had left the portion of the rope he'd knotted about his waist.

The Skir Master shook himself and rose, distaste and anger twisting his face. He held up something dark. Something he'd taken from deep within the monster. "You will not prevail," he said.

But the monster seemed not to be affected.

The Skir Master stood his ground.

A sudden gust of wind kicked up dirt and debris. A huge crack sounded from the far side of the meadow. Talen looked and saw tree limbs as thick as a man's body tossed into the air, swirling in a violent wind. The wind sped across the meadow, flattening the scrub of the clearing as it came.

The monster charged. One, two, three paces. It was almost upon the Divine.

But the wind was faster. It sped past the monster. The Skir Master stretched his tattooed arms out wide. The wind whipped about him. Then, before the monster could take another step, the wind picked him up and carried him into the air like a leaf in a storm.

The monster took two steps and sprang after him, leaping a dozen or more feet into the air.

Talen thought he saw it catch the Skir Master's leg, but the wind thrashed the bushes, casting debris into his eyes. Then a huge gust slammed into Talen, knocking him onto his back. Something struck his face, nearly blinding him, and Talen covered his eyes.

The wind howled about him, then as quickly as it had come, it was gone.

Talen rolled over and brushed dirt from his eyes, careful of the knife cut. Debris that had been cast into the air still fluttered about the whole meadow. He looked up. At first he saw nothing, and then, hundreds of yards above him, he saw the Skir Master and monster. He watched them sail upward into the morning sky until they were nothing more than black dots.

Talen's hand stung. He found a thin twig sticking straight out of it, which he plucked out and cast aside.

Uncle Argoth shouted in pain.

Talen ran to him. He found Uncle Argoth huddling on his knees, the case of hag's teeth lying in the grass beside him.

"Uncle," Talen said. "Uncle."

"No," he said. "No, no, no." Then he winced as if someone had struck him. He cried out in extreme agony.

Talen stepped back, expecting a hag's tooth to wriggle its way out of him.

Argoth jerked. And then the terror fled his face and he sagged.

Talen put a hand gently on his back. "Uncle?"

Uncle Argoth turned, looked up at him. And then he heaved a great sob. He began to weep like a child.

"Talen," said Sugar from behind. "Get the horse."

"You're going to be all right," Talen said to Uncle Argoth. But it was a lie. "We're all going to be all right."

"By all ..." said Sugar.

The fear in her voice made him turn. He followed her gaze into the sky and saw the Skir Master plummeting from the sky. Down he fell in a slow turn, one leg in front of the other as if he were taking one long lazy step.

He landed with a large, sickening thud at the edge of the clearing.