It was a humbling thought for Edgar to realize that “an irritating bit of food” was, in fact, precisely what he had become.

“Does he ever use toothpicks?” he asked Meagan nervously.

“Too stupid,” replied the woman. “Come on, he’s done now. Let’s go.”

The tooth directly next to Meagan’s was strong and solid, with no obvious place for Edgar to begin excavating a home. The one next to that, however—the tooth farthest back in the giant’s mouth—had a hole twice the size of Edgar’s fist. The odor of decay hung rank about it, but Meagan said that would disappear when Edgar had cut away the rot.

It had taken awhile to find the hole, since they had had to crawl all over the tooth looking for it. Unlike the opening to Meagan’s home, it was on the tooth’s outer side, facing the cheek rather than the tongue. They had reached that side by crawling on their bellies through the same gap between the teeth where they had taken shelter earlier.

“Nice location,” said Meagan, when they found the opening. “Safer than mine, though not quite so convenient for snagging food. I suppose you might give yourself a door on the other side of the tooth as well, once you’ve dug through it. Need to be careful, though, not to weaken it too much.”

Before Meagan would let him start to work, she bound them both to the tooth with a combination of ropes and leather straps. When she had driven Edgar nearly mad with checking and rechecking to make sure they were secure, she nodded and said, “Dig in.”

Edgar swung the pick and knocked away a chunk of the yellowed enamel.

The outraged roar of pain that rose from deep within the giant nearly deafened him. At the same time, the giant slapped his hand against his cheek. The mushy cheek wall pressed Edgar and Meagan against the tooth. The torch went out with a sizzle.

“Meagan!” cried Edgar. “Are you all right?”

The question—and her answer—were lost in the giant’s reverberating “Owwwwwwieeee!”

Despite the horrifying darkness, the awful squishiness of the cheek pressed against him, and the fact that he could scarcely breathe, Edgar almost felt sorry for the giant. Then he reminded himself that the only reason the creature was suffering this way was because it had tried to eat him.

“Now you see why I strapped us down,” gasped Meagan, after the bellowing had died away. “I’m afraid you’ll have to work in the dark for now. I won’t be able to light the torch again out here.”