David Cook - Beyong the Moons

“Wait I will, meat. Much longer it will be not,” the neogi’s voice echoed back. “Wise that is.”

Before Teldin could answer, the heaving bulk lunged again, this time straight across the center, ignoring the pole. The light timber snapped like a dry twig under the beast’s hurtling mass. The human dove out of the way, wincing as his already pummeled shoulder smashed into the wall. With a screech of frustration, the swollen neogi lunged again with lightning speed. The cloakmaster rolled across the ground and barely managed to get his body clear before the sluglike form crashed into the wall where he had been. A crack of wood echoed through the hold and the walls of the pen trembled. Above, the two neogi, the overmaster and M’phei, clung fearfully to their perches.

Teldlin scrambled to his feet before the yrthni-ma‘adi recovered, rapping his knuckles against the broken pole. Not daring to take his eyes off the creature, he groped frantically until his fingers closed on the shaft. The farmer awkwardly hefted it, turning the jagged broken end toward the beast. The pole made a long and clumsy spear, but it was better than no weapon at all, and with it Teldin could jab at the bloated form as Gomja had taught him, trying to keep the creature at bay.

Surprised by this sudden counterattack, the beast slowly gave way. Teldin drove it back, until the yrthni-ma‘adi crouched along the wall opposite him, feinting first to the left, then right, while the human inexpertly parried each move. Just finishing a thrust to the right, the farmer noticed a crack in the wall alongside him. It was where the beast had crashed before, apparently with enough force to splinter the pen’s wooden planking.

The jagged line became a chance in Teldin’s mind as he formulated a plan for escape. Feigning exhaustion, he let the pole drop slightly. The great old master lunged forward, only to be brought to a halt as the lanky yeoman snapped the tip up in its path. Quivering with rage, the creature heaved back toward its wall and renewed its lunges and feints with increased intensity, gurgling in frustration. Teldin kept toying with it, driving the beast to even more frantic attempts.

Suddenly the distended creature lunged forward in earnest. Teldin was not ready to put his plan into action, but when he thrust the pole, the great old master was not deterred. The beast hit the shaft squarely; the wood pierced the fleshy body with a squishy pop. The pole was torn from Teldin’s grasp and skidded across the deck until it jammed against the wall. The great old master bore down upon the spar, forcing the wood to twist and bend. The beast’s pallid, baggy skin tore open in a great rent, oozing yellowish ichor. Squealing and grunting in half-formed speech, the swollen freak flailed madly, crashing against the pen. The farmer dodged aside, narrowly avoiding pole and flesh as the enraged monster slammed from wall to wall. Abruptly the great old master sagged in a quivering heap, mouthing whimpering moans as its body gurgled and heaved.

“My unborn kin-slaves! My children you hurt, human meat!” the overmaster screamed from overhead. The golden-skinned neogi scrambled forward and peered over the edge, looking down at its freakish progenitor, then glared at the stumbling human. “You great old master slowly eats! Look what you have done.” The malevolent spider-eel waved a claw toward the injured grotesquery.

Teldin turned to look, attracted by a sucking, tearing noise that came from the beast. This was not the monster’s mewling, but the sound of flesh slowly pulling apart. In the dim light, the human saw the oozing wound from his spear heave, wiggle, then part. A squirming, wormlike shape, about as thick as the farmer’s muscular thigh, protruded from the gash. It thrust about, then fell to the deck with a soft, wet plop. Another followed, then a third; on the floor they looked like segmented and slime-covered maggots of obscene size. Even in this larval stage, Teldin could see the needlelike teeth and snakelike heads of tiny neogi. The worms writhed and weakly bit anything their blind faces touched, in venomous imitation of their elders. Repulsed, Teldin watched in unmoving horror. The deformed parent, perhaps sensing the man’s shock, sprang forward at the farmer, launching its bloated body with astounding might. At first unaware of the attack, Teldin barely tore his attention from the vile offspring in time. The farmer pitched to the deck, and the flaccid mass brushed over his back. Ichor from the wound dribbled across him and Teldin barely rolled clear of the crushing weight.

There was a shearing crack mixed with a shrill scream as the bloated neogi rammed into the splintered wall, sending a shock wave through the corpulent mass. The creature’s head and tiny chest were mashed to a pulp, mingled with the shattered boards. The cage wall buckled outward, and the braces snapped with thunder-clap cracks. The balcony swayed and crashed to the deck in a rain of wood, followed by the boards of the walls.

The yrthni-ma‘adi gave a single bellow, gurgling through its broken face while bubbling up yellowish ichor. The huge body flailed and thrashed, widening the breach. Teldin staggered warily toward the opening, keeping clear of the heaving flesh. New wounds oozed on the creature’s sides, spewing more of the mucous-covered hatchlings through its gaping cuts. The slime-coated maggots instinctively wriggled for safety. Teldin winced in pain as one of the little monsters seized his ankle in its razor-sharp teeth. With savage desperation, the farmer kicked the creature free, smashing its soft body against the wall. The limp carcass was immediately set upon by others of its kind, tearing and fighting over the newborn flesh.

Fortunately for Teldin, there was no time to stop and think. The parent monster had stopped its writhing, though the body was still shaken by convulsions. “Meat! My kin-slaves meat kill!” shrilled the overmaster as it clung to its swaying perch on the opposite wall. Teldin didn’t wait to hear more. Invigorated by the chance for freedom, he leaped over the old master’s shuddering corpse.

He landed on the deck outside the pen, but slipped in a jumble of broken wood and sticky ichor and skidded across the floor, adding just one more agony to his throbbing body. The bloodied human regained his balance, snatched up a fallen lantern, and ran toward what he hoped was the companionway to the ship’s upper deck.

There was a crashing noise behind Teldin, a grinding of wood and metal. He risked a glance over his shoulder to see the lantern lights over the pen bob, wave, then sink toward the floor. With one wall collapsed, the whole structure leisurely fell in upon itself. Teldin couldn’t tell if the neogi overmaster rode his perch to destruction or if the hateful little creature had managed to escape. He was not about to go back and check.

The doors to the ship’s hold loomed ahead. Teldin stopped, afraid to go forward but knowing there was nothing but pain behind him. The air in the gloomy chamber felt stifling and close while the noise of the collapse echoed furiously in the cavernous hold. The farmer was certain the racket could be heard throughout the ship, certain it would put the neogi on alert.

The hollow grating of claws against metal roused the numbed fugitive to action. The overmaster’s sibilant voice whispered in the distance. The words were unclear, but the relentless tread of the neogi’s lordservant was perfectly heard. Teldin shuttered his lantern so that only a little glow appeared, then he plunged through the doorway and into the hall. He headed left and broke into a loping run, ignoring the pain in his legs and the blood running down his sides. Incongruously, the cloak fluttered out behind him. Teldin cursed it as he ran; it had done nothing to save him and, instead, had brought him closer to death.