shoulder. “It’s okay. Don’t get us killed before I have a chance to try.”
Mich was slowly realizing their situation. These were creatures not to be taken lightly, and they could surely kill the captives if they felt the need. He hated to admit it, but for once, his status didn’t matter. He was sufficiently daunted.
“How can I change him? I don’t know how,” said Nola, studying the transformed prince.
“That I cannot tell you. You say you are the Creator; do you not know how to Create?”
Nola noted the gleam in his eye and immediately covered her mistake. “Yes, of course I know how,” she said, wringing her hands nervously.
“Then get on with it!” he snapped. His voice boomed through the chamber, making it sound more authoritative.
At that moment, Nola heard a noise like that of glass being broken. She looked up. High in the ceiling, the glass of the tiny window was tinkling down to the floor. The window was actually not small, but looked that way because it was so high up. Above, she could see hooves crushing the glass and the rock around it. The iron shoes made sparks as they struck the rock, dislodging huge chunks, which the group was careful to avoid.
“What is this?” the worm king demanded. “Guard, stop that creature!”
But as he spoke, Spirit broke through and jumped into the chamber. It was not large enough for him to fly down, but it was too high not to. So he half spread his enormous black wings and glided down, landing on the rock floor.
Spirit’s eyes were showing white around the edges and his ears were flat against his skull. He stepped slowly toward the pedestal. His head just reached a quarter of the way up it. He bared his square teeth.
If you do not let my friend go, I will surely kill you, he thought in a calm voice. He pawed the floor, striking up more yellow sparks.
For once, the worm king seemed not sure of what to do. His head retracted into his coils and disappeared. The rest of his body followed. In a moment, the worm was gone.
Nola watched Esprit nervously, and Mich held up his sword. A small door opened up in the base of the pedestal and there was the worm king.
He approached Nola and dropped his head low. His crown tumbled off his head and spun like a top when it hit the floor. “I did not realize you were a friend of this wonderful creature. You must be a Creator. If you will stay and listen, I will tell you all I know of the Fren, and I will give you my warriors to help you defeat them,” he said, picking up his crown with his tongue.
Mich was confused by this sudden change of heart and sheathed his sword. “Why did you abduct us?” he asked, still not trusting the worm.
“Because Nola ate some of our young.”
“What?” Nola asked, disgusted. She imagined swallowing a small version of one of these things and her stomach roiled.
The worm king blinked at the guard, who brought forth a pile of mushrooms from a nook in the wall. “These are our eggs,” he said, showing Nola.
Nola turned her head. She didn’t feel so good and was afraid shemight splatter the king with her vomit, which probably contained partially digested worm eggs.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” she said, covering her mouth to choke her stomach back down.
The king was gracious, accepting her apology. “It’s no sin, my dear. You did not Create us, so you would not have known. Nevertheless, it irritated my minions.”
“Why does a creature like you lay eggs, when all you have to do is have your body severed?” Mich asked, still suspicious.
“It is true that we can multiply this way, but it is a somewhat debilitating experience when repeated, and our clones may live only for a week or so at the most, while I am over two hundred years old.” He gave the platter containing the worm eggs back to the guard. “Now follow me.”
He led them to another chamber, apparently a study. He pulled down a small volume and opened it. The pages crumbled slightly as he
Mich was slowly realizing their situation. These were creatures not to be taken lightly, and they could surely kill the captives if they felt the need. He hated to admit it, but for once, his status didn’t matter. He was sufficiently daunted.
“How can I change him? I don’t know how,” said Nola, studying the transformed prince.
“That I cannot tell you. You say you are the Creator; do you not know how to Create?”
Nola noted the gleam in his eye and immediately covered her mistake. “Yes, of course I know how,” she said, wringing her hands nervously.
“Then get on with it!” he snapped. His voice boomed through the chamber, making it sound more authoritative.
At that moment, Nola heard a noise like that of glass being broken. She looked up. High in the ceiling, the glass of the tiny window was tinkling down to the floor. The window was actually not small, but looked that way because it was so high up. Above, she could see hooves crushing the glass and the rock around it. The iron shoes made sparks as they struck the rock, dislodging huge chunks, which the group was careful to avoid.
“What is this?” the worm king demanded. “Guard, stop that creature!”
But as he spoke, Spirit broke through and jumped into the chamber. It was not large enough for him to fly down, but it was too high not to. So he half spread his enormous black wings and glided down, landing on the rock floor.
Spirit’s eyes were showing white around the edges and his ears were flat against his skull. He stepped slowly toward the pedestal. His head just reached a quarter of the way up it. He bared his square teeth.
If you do not let my friend go, I will surely kill you, he thought in a calm voice. He pawed the floor, striking up more yellow sparks.
For once, the worm king seemed not sure of what to do. His head retracted into his coils and disappeared. The rest of his body followed. In a moment, the worm was gone.
Nola watched Esprit nervously, and Mich held up his sword. A small door opened up in the base of the pedestal and there was the worm king.
He approached Nola and dropped his head low. His crown tumbled off his head and spun like a top when it hit the floor. “I did not realize you were a friend of this wonderful creature. You must be a Creator. If you will stay and listen, I will tell you all I know of the Fren, and I will give you my warriors to help you defeat them,” he said, picking up his crown with his tongue.
Mich was confused by this sudden change of heart and sheathed his sword. “Why did you abduct us?” he asked, still not trusting the worm.
“Because Nola ate some of our young.”
“What?” Nola asked, disgusted. She imagined swallowing a small version of one of these things and her stomach roiled.
The worm king blinked at the guard, who brought forth a pile of mushrooms from a nook in the wall. “These are our eggs,” he said, showing Nola.
Nola turned her head. She didn’t feel so good and was afraid shemight splatter the king with her vomit, which probably contained partially digested worm eggs.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize,” she said, covering her mouth to choke her stomach back down.
The king was gracious, accepting her apology. “It’s no sin, my dear. You did not Create us, so you would not have known. Nevertheless, it irritated my minions.”
“Why does a creature like you lay eggs, when all you have to do is have your body severed?” Mich asked, still suspicious.
“It is true that we can multiply this way, but it is a somewhat debilitating experience when repeated, and our clones may live only for a week or so at the most, while I am over two hundred years old.” He gave the platter containing the worm eggs back to the guard. “Now follow me.”
He led them to another chamber, apparently a study. He pulled down a small volume and opened it. The pages crumbled slightly as he
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