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Tam cocked his head to one side and whined more insistently. Mika stood up and walked over to him, wondering what was the matter. Then he heard it too. Creaking. And felt it. Kind of a trembling.

A bit of red clay trickled down onto Mika's head, and then a dribble of larger bits cascaded down his back. And even as he watched, it seemed that the entire ceiling buckled and bulged downward into the room, until Mika had to pull back to avoid being struck by falling bits of clay.

A shout came from the center of the building, then a loud crashing noise, the sound of falling adobe and limbers. Mika heard squeaks and the rush of tiny feet! He saw antennae in the corridor, weaving back and forth across the face of the door, excited murmurs of rustie joy as they fell upon the bars of the doors.

The roof groaned above Mika. He gathered everyone into the farthest corner. Mika hoped that every rustie in Exag had answered his call. They would undoubtedly eat their way through the metal bars of the windows and doors. The only real question was whether or not the building would collapse under their weight, killing everyone in the building before they could escape.

The roof collapsed with a loud crash. Mika and Margraf and the wolves were showered with broken adobe, wooden beams, and a mass of wriggling rustics.

"Mika!" screamed Margraf as he tried to fight his way clear of the mass of clay and timbers, only to be trod upon by a throng of chittering, squealing rusties fighting each other to be first at the metal door.

Mika struck out with his fists, but as his knuckles crashed into the rust monsters' hard exoskeletons, he realized that striking them would do little good. He plucked one rustie, who was in the process of stepping on Margrafs head, up by its tail and slung it through the newly opened window. It struck two others who were attempting to climb in and knocked them off.

Mika pulled Margraf out of the debris and dropped him through the circle of waving antennae which once more framed the window. The wolves followed on the boy's heels, the princess whining and stepping high as though loathing the touch of the creatures. Tam and RedTail contented themselves with growling at the metallic creatures who did not even hesitate in their steady progression.

Finally Mika himself slipped over the sill, stopping only to pat a rustie who was too small to climb and was squeaking with frustration as it threw itself hopelessly against the bottom of the wall. Mika lifted the tiny creature onto the sill, where it trilled happily before slipping into the writhing mass that filled the broken remains of the room.

Mika was extremely fond of rust monsters at that particular moment. It was almost a sense of paternal pride, and he found himself wondering if they could be trained or would cohabit with wolves.

He viewed the building-or what little could be seen of it-with satisfaction. The entire structure quivered with rusties as they climbed, crawled, slithered, and fought each other to reach the metal that was their goal.

As Mika and Margraf watched the amazing sight, more and more rusties pushed inside the building, and more and more humans fought their way out. Soon they were surrounded by Lufa, Hornsbuck, Lotus Blossom, and the majority of others who had not run off or been killed by the priests. There was no sign of the king, nor of the huge rusties that Margraf had spoken of.

Ah, well, one couldn't have everything.

"Good going, lad," said Hornsbuck, an aroused glint in his eyes as he bent down to thump RedTail on the flanks. "Never would have thought of such a thing myself. Best get going, though. This bit of nonsense is bound to raise someone, and then we'd be done for. Come on, let's head for the wall. Lufa, take us to the point nearest the mountains!"

"Aye," agreed Lufa, a wide grin on his face as he hugged Margraf to his side. He pointed east and headed off at a fast trot.

Mika turned to follow, when all of a sudden his hand began to tingle. He opened his mouth to shout, to cry out for help, when the pain seized him. It was worse this time, worse than before. Mika rolled over on the ground, hugging the hand to his chest and crying aloud, his voice drowned out by the madness around him. He felt hands on him and heard sounds of concern. Tam whimpered, and the princess nuzzled him. He tried to speak, to beg, to implore someone, anyone, to make the pain go away, but the agony was overwhelming, too much to bear. There was a ioud roaring in his ears, and he felt himself falling into a flaming vortex that ended in darkness.

CHAPTER 26

Mika wakened to find himself ringed by anxious faces: Hornsbuck, Lotus Blossom (who smoothed Mika's hair back from his forehead), all three wolves, Lufa, and Margraf. His glove was off his hand, and one brief glance showed him what he already knew: the demon had given him yet another green-scaled, taloned finger. The pain was gone, save for the pain in his heart. He sighed, drew the glove on, and accepting Hornsbuck's arm, climbing shakily to his feet.

Very litde time had elapsed since the onset of his collapse. Ascertaining that Mika was able to travel, the group set off, with Lufa leading the way. Mika, Hornsbuck, Lotus Blossom, and the wolves followed immediately behind. The remainder of the underground people brought up the rear.

They traveled through dark streets and empty squares, meeting no one, yet Mika could not shake the feeling that something was wrong. Their escape seemed too easy. Why? Where were the soldiers? Where was the king? What was the demon up to? And why, why did he feel as though he were being watched?

Mika tried to cast off the sense of unease, telling himself that they would soon be at the wall and would breach it with flames and make good their escape even if his entire hand and arm turned green. But he still felt the nagging sense that something was wrong.

They found a torch burning low in its bracket at the base of a tower. A low murmur of protest and fear rose from the more easily frightened by the audacity of taking something that belonged to the priests. Then, a giddy sense of boldness seemed to seize them and they fought each other for any torches they found thereafter.

An almost festive mood carried them to the foot of the great wall, where the shadow of the mountain fell on them like a bad omen.

Upon closer inspection, the wall appeared to be constructed of normal adobe. Mika began to wonder if Lufa were wrong, if it were all just some giant hoax perpetrated by the priests to keep the inhabitants of Exag in line. Well, he would soon find out. He gestured for all of those who held torches and those who had gathered pieces of wood along the way to join him at the wall. Following his instructions, they piled their bits of wood close to the base of the wall yet not actually touching it, hoping to avoid triggering the mechanism that would bring the wall to life. When the wood was stacked, Mika looked around him one last time at the circle of hopeful faces, all of them believing in him, trusting in him for the miracle of freedom.

Margraf left his father's side and slipped his small hand into Mika's, his bright eyes shining with admiration.

Mika smiled, a grimace really, and hoped that the boy had not misplaced his faith. Turning to the others, he gave a signal and tossed his torch on the small pile of wood. The other torches followed, arcing through the dark night like falling stars and landing on the wood with a shower of bright sparks.

The wood burned quickly. Mika eyed the row of shuttered buildings closest to the conflagration and hoped that the flames would not waken anyone who might raise an alarm.

The fire bit into the wood, crackling as it leaped higher and higher. As the last of it caught, the men used whatever lengths of wood and metal they had been able to arm themselves with to tip the whole fiery pyre over onto the wall itself.

For a moment nothing happened. Mika strained to see past the glow, to see whether or not the wall was burning. Then he smelled it, an awful stink, like that of burning feathers. The wall began to ripple, attempting to pull itself away from the fire. A hole appeared, small at first, but one that grew larger and larger before their eyes.