The cavern was high-domed, the ceiling dark and distant. Around a central pit fissures in the ground spewed forth indigo light, stark beams glaring up through the mist of the cavern floor. The walls above were honeycombed with grottoes and tunnels, and everywhere dark shapes streamed in and out, bustling around the wide rim of the pit and climbing up the jagged stones to disappear into the holes above.
Fritti could see the plume of his breath in the icy air. Cold like this so far underground was terribly wrong-but what was not in this nightmare place?
Moving forward at Scratchnail's harsh insistence, he looked now to the pit, and the massive shape that rose from it, dominating the subterranean chamber. As he neared, wonder turned to horror.
Up from the dark mist-shrouded center of the pit rose a squirming mass, a heaving pile of small bodies that protruded above the edge of the huge hole in the cavern floor like a volcano rising in a deep canyon. The squirming mountain was a mass of animals- tortured, dying, many already dead. Cats and fla-fa'az, Squeakers, Praere, Growlers and Rikchikchik, the heap of writhing beasts gave forth a million ghost-faint sounds. Many of the creatures were maimed or dismembered; closer to the bottom, most were not even moving. The stench penetrated Tailchaser's nose, and he gagged. He slumped to the cold ground, the mist billowing up around him, hiding for a moment the terrible sight. Scratchnail leaned down and butted him with his wide, flat head.
"Step up, now, you simpering beetle. You're about to meet His Lordship."
Weak in the knees and stomach, Fritti was prodded and dragged forward to the edge of the pit. He wanted to close his eyes. Instead, repulsed yet fascinated, he stared out at the squirming mountain, at the thousands of blank eyes and mindlessly sagging mouths puffing little jets of vapor.
The Clawguard stepped up beside him. "Your Mightiness! Your humble servant has brought you something!" Scratchnail's voice grated and echoed from the towering walls.
"Oh. You have, have you…?" bubbled a grotesque, suety voice. "Throw it in with the rest… I'll eat it later." A gigantic, dark shape-heretofore invisible at the top of the pile of bodies-turned its head and opened vast, eggshell-white eyes. Blind eyes.
Tailchaser gave a bleat of fright and leaped backward against the stone-hard body of Scratchnail. Cowering between the Clawguard's legs, Fritti forgot for a moment even his fear and hatred of the chieftain-the thing atop the pit blew all else from his mind like a screeching wind.
It Has a cat. Twenty, fifty, a hundred times bigger than himsell. Tailchaser could not tell; its swollen body was so massive that its tiny legs could not reach past to lift it. It lay, bloated and supremely powerful, on the peak of the wriggling flesh-mound.
"No, Great One, it is not to eat… yet." Fritti heard Scratchnail's voice, distant, unimportant. "This is one of the ones you sensed, Great One. Do you remember?"
The hideous creature pivoted its neckless head until the blank, dead eyes were facing the shivering Tailchaser. The nostrils flared.
"Oh, yes…" said the voice slowly, a sound like mud splattering on stone. "We remember now. Did it have companions? Where are they?" The voice took a sharper tone.
"He had two, O Lord." Scratchnail sounded nervous. "A kitten, Lord, a little mewling kitten, and a crazed old torn, filthy as sun and flowers. But this one, this is the one you want. There's something to this one. I'm… I'm sure of it."
"Ahhh," burbled the giant, and rolled back slightly onto its side, as if to think. It poked its round head down toward the pile on which it lay, but could not overcome its own bulk. A look of annoyance creased the vast brow, and suddenly three Clawguard, who had been watching with dismay from the opposite edge of the pit, leaped down into the hole. They quickly plucked the struggling form of a cat out of the midst of the heap and scrambled up to the monster. As they clambered over his belly he opened his mouth complacently. The wriggling, yowling cat was dropped in. Crunching sounds were heard as the great cat began to chew, and a look of contentment crossed the blind face.
As Tailchaser looked on helplessly, the beast swallowed, then turned its attention back toward him once more.
"Now," it dripped, "let us see what kind of Folk threaten our designs." There was a shocking jolt. Tailchaser felt for a moment as if a huge mouth had picked him up and shaken him. Then came a fiery pain, and something bored into his mind. Digging, burrowing, it tore through his thoughts, knocking them asunder-it waded through hopes and dreams and ideas; it carelessly crushed notions as it passed. An invisible force held Tailchaser to the spot. He contorted and howled as the mind of the beast invaded him.
When it was over he lay stunned and quivering on the icy earth beside the pit. A stabbing pain ebbed and surged behind his forehead. Finally Scratchnail spoke. His voice sounded subdued.
"Well, Great Master?"
The shape above the pit yawned, showing blackened teeth. A brief flare of light empurpled the scabby gray fur.
"This little bug is nothing. There are suggestions, yes-hints-but no power to speak of. It can do nothing. You say its companions are harmless?"
"This was the only one with even a trace of anything different, Lord, I swear it."
"Well…" There was a bored finality now in the liquid heaviness of the creature's speech. "Take it away. Kill it, or put it to work digging tunnels-we do not care."
The Claw chieftain dragged Fritti to a standing position, then forced him toward a doorway out of the cavern.
"Clawguard!" called the bloated thing. Scratchnail whirled and bobbed subserviently.
"Yes, Master of All?"
"Next time, do not so lightly disturb the meditations of Lord Hearteater." The milky eyes glinted.
Bobbing and choking, Scratchnail hurried Tail-chaser out of the Cavern of the Pit.
Stumbling and stupefied, Tailchaser was driven through the labyrinthine corridors of Vastnir. His captor dogged his footsteps and did not speak. Although he felt spirit-broken, still Fritti's mind was awhirl with the thought of what he had seen.
Hearteater! Lord Hearteater of the Firstborn! Fritti had seen Grizraz Hearteater, the ancient enemy of the Folk. He had heard him speak! A fit of shivering wracked his weakened body as he thought of the huge, blind thing lolling in the cavern behind them.
He had to get word to Fencewalker and the others… somehow. The Court of Harar must know of the danger… whatever good it might do. How could they defend themselves against such power, such terrible minions? Hundreds of the fierce Clawguard were in the main caverns alone-there was no way of knowing how many more lurked in this insect nest of tunnels and caves.
How can I do anything anyway? he thought bitterly. I'm under sentence of death.
His mind turned finally to Scratchnail, whose hot breath even now feathered his tail. Tailchaser dimly recalled that Scratchnail had been somehow embarrassed before the terrifying Hearteater. Surely the Clawguard leader would not suffer Fritti to live after that?
Limping, pondering, Tailchaser felt a gust of dry air ruffle his face-fur. He looked up. Here the tunnel was dark, almost lightless. Fritti could faintly see forms moving toward them in the shaft ahead.
With startling swiftness, Scratchnail reached his hook-taloned paw forward and slammed Tailchaser against the side of the passageway. For a moment he had to strain to catch his breath. As he wheezed helplessly he heard a strange rustling, a creaking as of old tree limbs, and suddenly the tunnel was full of whispering shadows.
Several dark shapes passed by. Tailchaser could faintly see tails and ears, but all seemed shadowy and indistinct. The air was full of choking dust and a cloying, sweet smell. Beside him Scratchnail lowered his head respectfully and averted his gaze. A faint sibilance, as of dry, powdery speech, fluttered in the air; then the strange shapes had passed up the corridor.