Page 52 of Casting Butterflies

“Fight me,” Misha shouted, lunging again.

“Fighting is for peons. I didn’t go through this trouble opening a conduit to the goblins’ underground habitat to exert myself like a common soldier.” Valefor leaped, like straight up, superhero-style, and landed atop the roof of the rail car. He ran down its length until he overlooked the pit and began laughing. “Finally, it arrives. If you thought the goblins were tricky, wait until you meet the creature they worship as a god.” The ground trembled. and the hole widened, the edges of it crumbling, which I didn’t understand until something poked over the edge.

A bug leg, the size of which boggled the mind and chilled the blood, and I definitely peed myself a little.

“What is that?” I whispered.

“Trouble. We have to seal the hole now,” Misha yelled.

“How?” Because short of some serious dynamite, or even better, a nuke, I didn’t have the slightest clue.

In good news, the flood of goblins appeared to have ceased. In the bad, the big bug—which all the cans of Raid in the world likely couldn’t kill—continued to heave itself upward. Four legs now gripped the edge, and a head peek over. I spotted no eyes, just a hard carapace with undulating filaments and, flanking its mouth, mandibles big enough to crunch someone in two.

“There is still time for you to give me the woman,” Valefor taunted.

“If you want me, then shove that bug back in the hole and seal it,” my reply. Selfless? More like surprising because I really just wanted to run away screaming.

Misha whirled to glance at me. “You can’t hand yourself over.”

“Dude, have you seen the size of that bug?”

“It can be killed.”

“With what? Your little knife ain’t going to cut it.”

“Time is up!” Valefor shouted. “Surrender or face the wrath of—Argh.”

I blinked as one of the waving tendrils wrapped around Valefor and lifted him.

“Put me down at once. I command you.” Without even trying, I could see the magic oozing from Valefor, slinking over the carapace of the monstrous bug. A bug that didn’t seem keen on listening.

On the contrary, it lifted Valefor higher, making him yell, “Let me go!”

That time, the bug obeyed, releasing the shadow elf, who plummeted, but before he could hit the ground, the mandibles clacked, snipping Valefor in half.

Given those two pieces hit the ground and bled, I’d go out on a limb and say the shadow elf was dead. Hooray. I might have celebrated more, only the bug began heaving itself again, trying to exit the rift.

Misha grabbed hold of the train car and climbed it, hollering, “I’ll keep it distracted, while you seal the hole.”

Seal it how?

Cedric had a suggestion. “Try to imagine the ground closing.”

Easier said than done. I glanced at Misha, who raced over the roof of the train car, heading for the head of the monster. He paused before the edge and began slashing at the tendrils.

Which made the bug really, really mad.

Its eyeless head thrashed, the mandibles clacked, and Misha damn well smiled as he danced between the agitated filaments. More pieces of them fell, the severed ends spurting a yellowish fluid.

“He can’t hold it off forever,” Cedric reminded.

No more standing around doing nothing. I had to help Misha. I focused on the rift in the ground that needed to be gone. Since I had nothing to fill it with, I went with Cedric’s idea and imagined the edges drawing together. Eyes clenched shut, fists tucked even tighter, I wished the earth would seal shut. The ground underfoot rumbled.

“That’s it, Beavertail. Keep up what you’re doing.”

Misha’s yell had me losing focus for a second, and Cedric muttered, “Ignore everything and focus.”

Easy for him to say. His head wasn’t the one throbbing with the effort. Still, I had no choice. I concentrated even harder but found myself facing resistance. The hole refused to tighten, likely because of the giant bug in the way. I strained, grunted, and gritted my teeth. I forced myself into a Zen-like state that tuned out the skirmish.