the group.
“Okay,” Jacob said, pulling back, “there’s just one Molg, and it’s a little guy. I’ll go get Brojan, we’ll talk to the beast, then let’s grab the map.”
The others waited while Jacob created a link to Brojan’s place, opening the door. The patriarch was sitting at his table, dressed in warm clothing and holding a walking stick. He stood when Jacob waved at him and walked through the link.
When everyone was ready, Akeno held his hand up, helping the others see, then led the way into the tunnels.
“Akeno,” Jacob whispered, “dim your light—I don’t want the Molg to go berserk before we find it.”
Jacob alternated between Time-Seeing and telling Akeno which turns to take. Not long after, they caught up to the Molg. Catching it was easy—Akeno maxed out his light and shone it in the creature’s eyes right when Ebony, Sweet Pea, and Matt jumped and pinned the beast to the ground. They tied it with ropes, then turned to Brojan and Jacob.
Holding his breath and trusting the others would keep the Molg from attacking, Jacob approached and put his finger on the beast’s forehead. He nearly recoiled from the feel of the clammy skin. Instant visions entered his mind—boredom, aimless wandering, lust after a female Molg, and frustration with rules from the Lorkon. Last was the irritation at being stopped by humans, followed by a fleeting thought about delicious-looking creatures.
“We need to hurry,” Jacob said. “He wants to eat us.”
Brojan nodded and approached cautiously. “Molg, my name is Brojan. I want to ask you a couple of questions about one of your own I used to know.”
The creature under Jacob’s hand didn’t do anything—just stared at Brojan—but Jacob saw the patriarch in the Molg’s mind.
“You’ve got his attention.”
“His name was Dreget—”
Suddenly the Molg roared and jerked around, reaching for Brojan. Jacob lost contact with its skin. The beast nearly broke free, even with the ropes and people holding it down.
As soon as the others regained their control over the monster, Jacob put his hand back on its forehead. He gasped as he saw strong visions and felt intense emotions, then looked at the Molg’s face. The hatred there was intense, the colors swirling around it confusing—Jacob wasn’t adept at reading the emotions of Molgs, but he knew they weren’t positive.
“What is it?” Ebony asked, not loosening her hold on the beast’s left arm.
“It’s obvious he’s super angry.” Sweet Pea said. “Tell us what you saw.”
Jacob quickly relayed the visions as they came to him. “Dreget is dead. He turned against the Molgs to help Brojan. It caused a huge war within their civilization that didn’t end until the Lorkon killed him. Many Molgs died—oh, gross. Molg eat their dead.”
He swallowed, willing that particular vision to leave his mind. “When the Lorkon came, they took control, establishing some order within the civilization. The Lorkon taught the Molgs to depend on them, to kill any of their kind who ever turned again.”
Jacob looked up. “This Molg is young—only around ten years old. But they pass their stories down, and his hatred for Dreget is not to be underestimated. Nor is his loyalty to the Lorkon—he . . . he wants to kill you, Brojan. He wants the recognition that will come from destroying the one who caused the Molg war.”
Brojan shook his head. His face showed impassiveness, but he took a slight step backward. Only a small amount of nervous yellow flashed around his face. “He won’t be able to get to me.” The patriarch looked at Ebony. “Do you have the map?”
“Not yet—we brought you as soon as Jacob saw a Molg nearby.”
“Let’s get it.”
“What do we do with this thing?” Matt asked.
Sweet Pea grunted. “Kill it, obviously.”
Ebony frowned at the Makalo. “That wouldn’t be right. He’s not attacking.”
“But he would, if given the opportunity.”
“Let’s just leave him
“Okay,” Jacob said, pulling back, “there’s just one Molg, and it’s a little guy. I’ll go get Brojan, we’ll talk to the beast, then let’s grab the map.”
The others waited while Jacob created a link to Brojan’s place, opening the door. The patriarch was sitting at his table, dressed in warm clothing and holding a walking stick. He stood when Jacob waved at him and walked through the link.
When everyone was ready, Akeno held his hand up, helping the others see, then led the way into the tunnels.
“Akeno,” Jacob whispered, “dim your light—I don’t want the Molg to go berserk before we find it.”
Jacob alternated between Time-Seeing and telling Akeno which turns to take. Not long after, they caught up to the Molg. Catching it was easy—Akeno maxed out his light and shone it in the creature’s eyes right when Ebony, Sweet Pea, and Matt jumped and pinned the beast to the ground. They tied it with ropes, then turned to Brojan and Jacob.
Holding his breath and trusting the others would keep the Molg from attacking, Jacob approached and put his finger on the beast’s forehead. He nearly recoiled from the feel of the clammy skin. Instant visions entered his mind—boredom, aimless wandering, lust after a female Molg, and frustration with rules from the Lorkon. Last was the irritation at being stopped by humans, followed by a fleeting thought about delicious-looking creatures.
“We need to hurry,” Jacob said. “He wants to eat us.”
Brojan nodded and approached cautiously. “Molg, my name is Brojan. I want to ask you a couple of questions about one of your own I used to know.”
The creature under Jacob’s hand didn’t do anything—just stared at Brojan—but Jacob saw the patriarch in the Molg’s mind.
“You’ve got his attention.”
“His name was Dreget—”
Suddenly the Molg roared and jerked around, reaching for Brojan. Jacob lost contact with its skin. The beast nearly broke free, even with the ropes and people holding it down.
As soon as the others regained their control over the monster, Jacob put his hand back on its forehead. He gasped as he saw strong visions and felt intense emotions, then looked at the Molg’s face. The hatred there was intense, the colors swirling around it confusing—Jacob wasn’t adept at reading the emotions of Molgs, but he knew they weren’t positive.
“What is it?” Ebony asked, not loosening her hold on the beast’s left arm.
“It’s obvious he’s super angry.” Sweet Pea said. “Tell us what you saw.”
Jacob quickly relayed the visions as they came to him. “Dreget is dead. He turned against the Molgs to help Brojan. It caused a huge war within their civilization that didn’t end until the Lorkon killed him. Many Molgs died—oh, gross. Molg eat their dead.”
He swallowed, willing that particular vision to leave his mind. “When the Lorkon came, they took control, establishing some order within the civilization. The Lorkon taught the Molgs to depend on them, to kill any of their kind who ever turned again.”
Jacob looked up. “This Molg is young—only around ten years old. But they pass their stories down, and his hatred for Dreget is not to be underestimated. Nor is his loyalty to the Lorkon—he . . . he wants to kill you, Brojan. He wants the recognition that will come from destroying the one who caused the Molg war.”
Brojan shook his head. His face showed impassiveness, but he took a slight step backward. Only a small amount of nervous yellow flashed around his face. “He won’t be able to get to me.” The patriarch looked at Ebony. “Do you have the map?”
“Not yet—we brought you as soon as Jacob saw a Molg nearby.”
“Let’s get it.”
“What do we do with this thing?” Matt asked.
Sweet Pea grunted. “Kill it, obviously.”
Ebony frowned at the Makalo. “That wouldn’t be right. He’s not attacking.”
“But he would, if given the opportunity.”
“Let’s just leave him
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