Carefully, he put the claw on top of his Feeder and set about returning the rest of the weapons to their places. All around him, the Wuftoom slept on. Evan returned to the young ones and melted into his blocks to give the appearance of sleep.
Ylander and two other young ones were among the first of the returning shift. As Ylander passed Evan, small gobs of dirt dropped from his arms into the water. They splashed silently but did not fully sink. Someone next to him began to move, then another, until many of the young ones were stirring around him. Only then did he give up his pretense and slowly solidify as well.
From his blocks, he watched as the Wuftoom gathered in the night's groups. The rule was that each group should have three, but now that so many were digging, a few groups had only two. Those groups were the ones with the most experienced Wuftoom, and even then they were assigned only to the water. Tonight Olen and Gorti, another old one, were a group of two.
When they started filing out of the cave, Evan put on his pack, which he had folded his Feeder into, and grabbed his rod. He walked slowly behind the others. As Olen and Gorti reached the exit, Evan came up alongside them.
“Can I join your group?” he asked. The two old ones looked at him gravely.
“It is not safe for you, Brode,” said Olen.
“I know everyone thinks that, but I'm not afraid. I'm all healed up. Look.” Evan turned his back to the old ones, showing them the twisted membrane. It was knotted and lumpy, but it was no longer open. “I'm sick of being hurt. I don't want to stay here doing nothing.”
“We would like you to join us,” said Olen, “but Rayden has made it very clear. No one is to allow you to hunt until he gives the word.”
“Your desire is admirable. It will not be long now,” said Gorti. “There will be no more danger soon.” His voice was deep and full of confidence. Evan hoped that it was true.
Olen gave Evan a light clap, and the old ones went on, leaving him at the cave entrance. He wanted to turn to see if Rayden was watching. Could he possibly have noticed that the claw was gone?
Olen and Gorti were hunting for Higgers, and it was a hard assignment. Even during the brief time since Evan and the others had watched Jordan change, the population had decreased. The hunters had to go to another set of big pipes, farther from the main cave than Evan had ever been.
Fortunately, the path was basic. After the dig, he had only one tiny pipe to squeeze through, then a small one that curved around. Then he would be in a pipe that was big enough to crawl in, and he could take that to where Olen was supposed to be going. It was a simple route, yet Evan had had to go over and over it to grasp it.
Everything still looked the same to him. It would be so easy to get lost. And if this simple route was hard, he had no chance of finding his way home.
He set out quickly, not wanting to let anyone stop him. Not willing to think too much, in case he stopped himself. Someone called after him, but he slid faster through the water. He did not turn to see who it had been.
T
HE TRIP UP THE SMALL PIPE
was harder than it had been before. Halfway up, he almost slid backward and had to twist frantically against the pipe. He was stuck for a minute or two before he calmed down enough to go on. But he found the next, slightly larger pipe, squeezed through it, and fell heaving into the crawler.
His pack popped painfully out and he pulled himself onto his nubs with effort. It felt like the pack had ripped the membrane open, and he struggled to calm his breathing down. He listened. All was quiet except for the sound of slowly running water. He turned over on his back and let the water soothe it.
He rolled over onto his stomach, sighing with the coolness of the water, then struggled back to his four nubs. Slowly, he crawled down the pipe, turning his plan over and over in his head. It wasn't much of a plan. He hadn't had time to perfect it. He'd barely even had time to think about it.
“This part's dry, Olen, just like back there.” It was Gorti's deep, commanding voice.
“We shouldn't even have bothered here,” said Olen. “We'll have to go on outward.”
Evan hadn't expected to catch up with them so soon, and he couldn't stop his nubs' shaking as he came to the end of the crawler and looked down on the large pipe. He took a deep breath. He had to do this.
The old ones were coming from the right. Keeping his head in the pipe's shadow, he watched them slide past. When they were a few Wuftoom lengths past him, he jumped down into the stream.
The old ones whipped around, rods raised. They had taken to carrying packs even in the water now.
“Brode!” exclaimed Gorti. “You nearly got a face full! What were you thinking?”
“What are you doing here?” Olen growled.
Evan panted from exertion. “Master Olen, I'm sorry. I know you told me not to come, but I need to talk to you.” His voice sounded as desperate as he was.
The old ones eyed each other. Gorti shrugged.
Olen pursed his lips into a point. “It couldn't wait until later? As a young one, you had fragile health to start with.”
“I'm fine,” said Evan. “Really, I don't want sit around while the Vits get stronger. I know they hate me most of all.”
Olen gave a look to Gorti and sighed. “The Vits hate us all equally,” he said. “But I do believe they chose you to attack. It is all the more reason why you should not be here.”
“Please, it's important. I need to talk to you alone. You helped me change. I know you're the only one who can help me.” It was certainly true.
Gorti shrugged again. “Go on. I will scout the next pipe.”
“All right,” said Olen. “I will meet you at the next fork.” Olen slid toward Evan. His expression was serious, but Evan saw kindness in the glow of his white eyes. Maybe it had been there all along, only as a human, he hadn't wanted to see it.
Evan waited until Olen had lifted himself back into the crawler and followed from behind. Was he really going to do this?
Olen stopped and turned back to Evan. “Do we really need to come this far?” he asked. “Gorti is out of earshot.”
“I guess this is far enough,” said Evan, glancing behind him. The entrance to the big pipe was nearly gone. There were only a few inches between the top of Olen's body and the pipe.
He jumped onto Olen's back, pushing the old worm forward as he did so. He had to press himself flat against the top of the pipe, squeezing everything but one nub, hoping Olen was squeezed down too much to move. He pressed harder, pulling his head free, so it hung over Olen's head.
“Do you feel that?” he asked. His voice shook and it came out much quieter than he had planned. But fear made his body strong. Olen could say nothing because his head was pinned. “That is a Vitfly claw. It's pressed into your membrane and it will press right through.”
Olen struggled beneath him.
Evan pressed down with the claw. Olen's body shook. Evan pressed down harder. Suddenly, Olen pushed up, flattening Evan's head. But Evan kept the claw pressed.
Olen flipped himself over, a simple trick for a Wuftoom, even in a small space. But the Vit claw was in deep, and Evan flipped with him. Even on the bottom, he pressed the claw. Slowly, heaving with effort, he let the claw rip down the old worm's back.
In his pain, Olen wasn't able to hold Evan down, and Evan was able to flip over so that he was on top again. He pulled out the claw and held it to Olen's cheek.
“I'm going home,” said Evan. “And you're going to take me there. Or I'll do it again.” He rolled backward off Olen and pushed him forward with a kick.
Olen's voice spluttered out of him. He gave half a cry and half a groan and then whirled on Evan. A pinkish pus dripped from his open back. Evan held up the claw.
“
What
are you doing?” Olen shouted. The pipes seemed to vibrate. He sounded more surprised than angry.
Evan's determination faltered. What
was
he doing? “I have to get back home,” he said. “I don't know how to get there.”
“You could have
asked
me!” Olen shouted.
Evan stared at him.
“
Why
do you want to go home?” Olen said. He was still angry, but he said it a little softer.
Evan gripped the Vit claw tighter. It was too late to lie. “Before I left, the Vits threatened my mother. They said if I didn't come back, they'd eat her.”
Now it was Olen's turn to be dumbfounded. Evan watched the shape of his mouth change as he realized the gravity of what Evan had said.
“How much do you remember?” he asked.
“I remember everything,” said Evan. “How do you forget your own mother?” The Vit claw began shaking in his hand.
Olen was silent for a second. “It is a long time before we forget,” he said. “But a short time before we cease to care. I cannot explain it except that it is in our nature.”
“Have you forgotten now?” Evan stared into Olen's eyes. He could not read their glow.
“I have forgotten her name,” he said. “I could not tell you what she looked like. But there was a time when I remembered. I even thought of her from time to time.”
“But Jordan doesn't remember anything. He was crying for her as he changed, and now he acts like she doesn't even exist.”
Olen was silent for another minute, and both Wuftoom shook a little. “You and I were slow to change,” said Olen finally. “We are different from the rest.” He paused.
Evan tried to process this, but all he could think of was his mother. Where was she now? Where were the Vits?
“Yet I do not think even I would have risked the clan to save her,” Olen said.
“I have to save her!” Evan shouted. In his Wuftoom voice, it was a growl. “I don't want to hurt the clan, but I can't let them eat her! Please, Olen, help me!” If he had tear ducts, he would surely have been crying. As it was, his body shook wildly and only a tremendous effort kept him from dropping the Vit claw.
“What do the Vits want you to do?”
“They want me to give them information. To tell them how to get into the Wuftoom cave. I'm not going to tell them. I don't even know. But they told me I had to come now. They won't wait any longer.”
“How did they tell you?” Olen's voice was calm now, but his eyes never left Evan's.
“They've been talking to me in my head.”
Olen sucked his lips until they were only a tiny speck. “Either you are truly different or the Vits are much stronger than we thought.”
“It's me,” said Evan. “I'm sure of it. They can't talk to me for long. Just long enough to tell me they'll kill her if I don't come! Please, you have to show me the way!” Evan's shaking nub held the Vit claw up.
“Put that away,” said Olen. “You are a Wuftoom. What matters to you matters to me.” Both worms stood silent. “I said,
put it away.
I am going to help you.” Olen's eyes now glowed with anger, but Evan saw that he meant what he said.
With shaking arms, he lowered the claw. The space was too tight for him to put it in his pack. He sank back onto his legs.
“I should gather an assault force,” said Olen. “Yet I fear you were right to keep your secret. There are many who would not understand that you are as much Wuftoom as they. There are many who would counsel against helping you.”
“We don't have time!” cried Evan, his face now turned down. He did not want to look at Olen, whose pus was still dripping into the water. “I have to go tonight.”
“Then we will go now.” Olen sucked in a breath of pain, which he quickly tried to cover, and started sloshing down the pipe. As he crawled, he rolled back and forth, flushing the cool water over his cuts.
“I'm sorry,” Evan said. “I didn't know you would help me. I thought you would try to stop me and let her die.”
“There are many who would have,” said Olen. “I did not treat you well when you were a proem. You had every reason to believe that I would do the same.”
Evan did not know what to say. It was true, and yet he had been wrong.
“It is in our nature to hate humans,” Olen continued. “They are a danger. It is difficult to like a proem, when he hates us just as much. But that does not excuse me. I of all Wuftoom should have realized you might remember.” They went on in silence, with Olen stopping to flush his back every few feet.
After a while Olen stopped in front of a small pipe that they would have to slide up.
“I can't carry my pack with this,” he said, pointing a nub at his hurt back.
“You can have mine when we get there,” said Evan. “I can't shoot anyway.”
Olen took his pack all the way off and dropped it in the putrid water. Evan watched more pink pus drip over his back. Almost imperceptibly, the old worm's body shook.
“Follow me, Brode,” he said quietly. “I will lead you where you need to go.” Olen shoved his head into the hole, and in a flash, the rest of him was gone. Evan jumped in after him, following the old one's wake.
O
LEN SPLASHED HARD
into a main pipe, falling headfirst without catching himself. He sprawled in the water and gasped for breath. Evan, too, came headfirst, but he caught himself with his nubs and was soon upright, clutching his claw. As soon as his pack expanded, he quickly put it away inside. Hurriedly, he glanced up and down the pipe. It was all clear.
Olen struggled but pulled himself upright. He looked terrible. Pus was still oozing from his open back despite his dump into the water. Evan had not meant to hurt him so badly, only to scare him. He wanted to cry out how sorry he felt, but Olen had already turned and was slowly sloshing upstream.
Evan tried to remember. He thought he recognized this tube. He thought it was the one leading to the pipes that led up to his bedroom, but he couldn't be sure because it looked almost exactly like the one leading to the Wuftoom cave. But he knew they hadn't gone back there. This was in the complete opposite direction, and it was far enough away to be the right place. His breathing quickened, pulsing his whole body in and out.