Wuftoom (11 page)

Evan thought about the story. He knew what Rayden was trying to say. That the Wuftoom should be cautious about taking too many humans. But the heckler's voice stuck in his head.
We need more to fight the Vitflys.
Were the Wuftoom in danger of losing? Which side should he be on? Evan didn't have time to think about it long, because Rayden was soon back at his side.

“Well, new one, what did you think?” he asked in his deep voice, his nub arm on Evan's back.

“It was interesting, Master Rayden,” said Evan. “Did that really happen?”

“Oh, Master Rayden only tells true stories,” said Olen. He had not said a word since the beginning of the story, but he had watched Rayden with an approving expression.

Rayden showed his large, thick fangs, with what Evan hoped was a friendly smile. “Oh, yes, that one is quite well known. Sometimes the young ones just need reminding. Now, let me introduce you to them. Of course, they aren't as young as they used to be—the youngest has been one of us for seven years.”

N
ODDING GOODBYE TO
O
LEN,
Rayden steered Evan away from the center group and to the left. Evan realized they were nearing the group that had heckled Rayden. They were now sitting close together in a circle, in heated debate.

“Ah, the young ones!” Rayden exclaimed, smiling his broad smile. The group paused in their debate to regard Rayden as he addressed them.

“This is the new one. He has yet to earn his name, so you can call him whatever you'd like. New one, meet the young ones. They will take care of you.” Rayden's voice was still jovial in its roughness, and he gave Evan another hearty back clap.

The young ones stared at him in silence, and Evan was conscious that others were looking his way as well. Finally, one of them spoke.

“We'll take good care of him,” he said, nodding at Rayden. Evan realized it was the one who had stood up and challenged the older Wuftoom.

“That's what I need to hear!” bellowed Rayden, and he clapped the heckler heartily before sloshing back into the crowd. There was another long silence. Their white eyes stared.

“Hello,” said Evan.

“The first new one in seven years!” cried the heckler. “I'm Tret, and these are your new friends.” He waved to the group of seven others who surrounded him. They all smiled with their fangs showing and growled a welcome.

“We all know how hard it is to be a new one,” said Tret seriously. “We want you to feel like this is your home.” Tret put his nub arm around Evan and squeezed.

Tret's group were still smiling at him. When Olen had smiled like that, Evan the human boy had cringed in terror. But their smiles suddenly made him feel safe. He felt the water, which was nearly past his legs in this part of the cave. He didn't know if it was pleasant or disgusting anymore. He wanted to shower himself in it and run away at the same time. His confusion must have shown on his worm face.

“Don't know whether to run or cry, eh?” said Tret. “Well, we've all been there. Why don't you sit down and have some dessert with us.”

The whole group sat down again, and the water came nearly up to Evan's mouth. Evan wondered what these creatures could possibly consider dessert. He turned to look and saw a few Wuftoom working their way through the crowd, carrying membrane scraps like trays. On top of the trays were little balls of something. A cry of excitement went through the crowd around him.

“Mifties! Oh boy, you're in for a treat tonight!” said Tret, clapping Evan on the back and causing the water to spray up and drench his head. It felt cool and pleasant.

“What are they?” Evan asked.

Just as he said it, one of the servers came close enough for him to get a better view. The little balls were actually some kind of creature. They looked a lot like mice, but as the server plopped one into Evan's arms, he saw that it was different.

It had scruffy gray fur like a mouse and was about the same size, but its feet had large green claws that stuck out half an inch beyond the paws. Its dead eyes were also green, staring up at Evan with a knowing glow.
It must be my imagination,
he thought.
It can't be glowing if it's dead.
Yet it seemed to. Evan felt sure that a creature like this would be able to talk too, just like the Vitflys and the spiders. The thing's belly was strangely bare. It looked almost like human skin.

“Just try it,” said Tret happily, eyes glowing. He bit his in two and chewed slowly, savoring the taste.

Evan stared back into the green eyes. They seemed to reproach him. Still, everyone else was eating. Evan slowly bit into his. He felt the blood seep over his tongue. It was totally different from the spider. It was dense, dark meat. The blood was thick and bitter. Evan had never tasted anything like it, but Tret was right: it was wonderful. He slurped eagerly at the severed body, sucking the blood in, and finally ate the rest of the mouse thing with one swoop, crunching the sour bones. As he swallowed, a final blast of pleasure floated down his throat.

“Looks like we're lucky to have you with us,” said Tret. “There weren't enough to go around.”

Evan looked behind him and saw that the Wuftoom on the other side of the room were getting something different, a larger creature with less fur. He heard voices in tones that suggested loud complaining.

“But what
are
Mifties?” he asked.

Tret laughed. “They're the most numerous of all dark creatures,” he answered, “but also the most sly. So it's a fine treat when we catch a batch like this. Normally it's just Rayden's crowd that gets them.”

“Do they talk?”

Tret laughed louder. “Still a little human! They wouldn't be dark creatures unless they talked. All dark creatures are intelligent. Otherwise, they'd just be animals living underground.”

Evan knew what came next. The nonsense about having to eat creatures that talked. Only it wasn't nonsense to them, or to the Vitflys. Olen had been so sure that the Wuftoom were safe. But Evan didn't believe it. Not with the image of hairy, hissing Foul in his mind. Thinking of the Wuftoom the same way the Wuftoom thought of Mifties.

“Do the Vitflys ever get us?” Evan asked. At this the group's mood turned decidedly more somber.

“They like to pretend it doesn't happen,” said Tret, nodding toward the center, where Rayden and Olen and the other important worms were sitting. “But three have gone in the past year. Three that weren't retired to the trap. They said they were crushed in a cave-in and had the tunnel full of rocks to prove it. But I think the Vitflys caused the cave-in, and trapped them and ate them, leaving nothing but their membrane.”

Evan's arms shook. “Why don't they want anyone to know?”

“Because there are
some
Wuftoom who would respond by making more of us than just replacements. Enough to raise a real army, to help us obliterate the Vits! The old ones elected Rayden. He's gone from Vit eater to old Nob.” The others laughed, but the joke was lost on Evan.

“They think if there are too many of us, we'll all die of starvation. That's what Master Olen said,” said Evan. Tret smiled broadly at him, and Evan realized what he'd said. “Us.”

“That's right, but we won't. We should make more right when it's time to strike. Then we'll all feast on their blood!” There were growls of agreement from the group. “That means soon, new one! We're closer than we've ever been.”

It made some sense, but Evan thought of Rayden's story. “But if there were too many proems, the humans would notice them,” he said. “I went to the hospital and I stayed there for months. If more people came in, they'd figure it out. And they wouldn't be as dumb as the people in Master Rayden's story. They wouldn't let the dead ones get all over them. They'd handle them with special gloves and isolate them. They could kill us all if they wanted to.” Evan hadn't really thought about it before, but now he was sure. If the whole town got sick, they'd figure it out. Even just two boys being sick might trigger something.

“We've thought of that,” said Tret. “That's why we have to get them right away, before they've changed. Most proems don't take nearly so long to change as you did. You took so long that everyone wondered if something had gone wrong. But Olen kept telling Rayden that everything was fine, that you were changing slowly but surely, like he did.”

Evan processed this. “Like he did?”

“Oh yes, old Slow Change Olen.”

The group laughed.

“It does something to your head.” Tret slapped his head with his nub arm, and the group laughed harder. Seeing the look on Evan's face, Tret gave him a hearty clap. “We'll make sure you don't turn out like him!”

Evan would not turn out like Olen. No matter what happened, he would not. But something else bothered him. “I led a boy into the trap yesterday,” he said. “How long will it take him?”

“Oh, one or two weeks maybe,” said Tret.

“Weeks!” Evan cried. “But it took me more than two years!”

“We know,” said Tret. “I don't think we know anyone who's taken as long as you. Maybe you didn't get enough remains.”

“I stepped in it up to my thigh,” Evan said nervously. “It took me a long time to get out.” Everyone was staring at him. A circle of glowing eyes. Evan was suddenly aware that the rest of the cave was still looking at him too. Worms were sneaking glances from every group. Pretending to be deep in conversation, they all watched him out of the corners of their eyes. He wanted to run. But they would catch him. He wouldn't make it five feet. He tried to smile but knew his mouth was merely twisting into a shriveled, misshapen hole.

“Well, I like anyone who's already tricking the Vits as a proem,” someone said, grinning.

“Evan, meet Suzie,” said Tret, gesturing at the one who had just spoken.

Evan looked at him in surprise. A real name!

“We don't get many females,” Tret explained. Evan couldn't see anything different about Suzie that would make her female, but he couldn't ask about it right then because the others were also grinning at him.

“Using the Boomtull Birch to walk a human into the trap was brilliant,” said Suzie, grinning.

He wanted to cry out,
I didn't! Olen made me! I tried to stop him!
But he just opened his mouth wide, felt the air over his fangs.

“The Vits tried to get a Wuftoom to spy for them,” Tret said.

The rest of the group laughed loudly.

“You see,” Tret said to Evan, “they don't really understand what they gave you—the Birch. They can't use it themselves. And they don't understand us. No Wuftoom can be disloyal once we've changed. We all forget about our human cares.”

Evan didn't want to forget. He wouldn't let it happen. But he knew he had to pretend his cares were already fading. He had to act like one of them. He tried to smile.

“Isn't Olen crying over the extra mouth to feed?” said the Wuftoom to Tret's left. Everyone laughed.

“This is Ylander,” said Tret. “Master Olen's biggest fan.”

Ylander grinned and gave a little bow.

“Actually, it was Olen's idea,” Tret continued. “Even old Slow Change knows we need to replace the dead. And I have to give it to him, it was a smart plan. We can't rely on people just wandering down there.”

“That's what I did,” said Evan.

Tret ignored this. “If we could get each one to get one more . . .”

“How are you planning to get a human down here?” Evan interrupted. “Some parts are too small to fit through.” He thought about how Jordan would react if he was brought down here before he changed. The creatures. The stink. Evan thought he had hurt Jordan enough already by turning him into a Wuftoom and taking over his last few days as a human. And he was sorry for that.

“We don't need to bring him down here,” said Tret. “You see, we've been working on a place to keep them. The old ones aren't happy about it. They see it as the first step toward losing their way on the population question. Which it is. But we tell them we're being extra cautious. You can't be too careful, even if you've only got one proem.” Tret showed his fangs.

“Where's this place?” Evan asked. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ylander give Tret a hard poke with his nub arm.

“I'm not giving him a map,” Tret said, then turned to Evan. “Don't mind him. You're not supposed to know where things are until you get your name. Which doesn't happen until you've proven yourself Wuftoom. We know you're Wuftoom already; it's just an old tradition.” This time Evan managed to hold his position under the weight of the back clap.

I am not a worm!
he thought.

Just then Evan felt an arm on his shoulder.

It was Rayden. “And how are these fine folks treating you?” he asked, giving a broad grin.

“Really good,” said Evan. “Those mice creatures were wonderful.”

“Ah, the Mifties! You came on the right day!” Rayden continued on through the cave.

“Even that old Nob will see the logic in it,” Tret said. “Once it's done.” He leaned his head into the middle of the group. “Ready?” he whispered.

Suzie's mouth opened in a grin.

Ylander nodded.

“You know what to tell Rayden,” Tret said to the others.

“What's going on?” asked Evan.

“We'll tell you on the way,” said Tret, and he pushed Evan forward, through the group of young ones. The group closed in behind them. In front of them, Evan saw only a drain the size of a shoe box, slowly letting water escape out of the room.

“Just hang on to my arms,” said Tret. He jumped into the grate, so that only his head and arms stuck out.

Evan turned to look behind him. Suzie and Ylander were there, grinning. Whatever they were doing, they didn't act like they wanted to hurt him. If he went with them, it could only help him earn their trust. He wrapped his arms around Tret's. Ylander grabbed on to his legs, and before he had time to react further, he was being pulled down.