"Better lighten your load, Croaker," the Lieutenant said. He would not explain either.

"You going too?" I asked, surprised.

"Yep. Move it. We don't have long. Weapons and field medical kit should do it. Scoot."

I met Darling going down. She smiled. Grouchy as I was, I smiled back. I can't stay mad at her. I have known her since she was so high. Since Raven rescued her from the Limper's thugs long ago, in the Forsberg campaigns. I cannot see the woman that is without recalling the child that was. I get all sentimental and soft.

They tell me I suffer from a crippling romantic streak. Looking back, I'm almost inclined to agree. AH those silly stories I wrote about the Lady…

The moon was on the rim of the world when I returned topside. A whisper of excitement coursed among the men. Darling was up there with them, astride her flashy white mare, moving around, gesturing at those who understood sign. Above, the spots of luminescence that are characteristic of windwhale tentacles drifted lower than I'd ever heard tell of. Except in horror stories about starved whales dropping down to drag their tentacles on the ground, ripping up every plant and animal in their path.

"Hey!" I said. "We'd better look out. That sucker is coming down." A vast shadow blotted out thousands of stars. And it was expanding. Manias swarmed around it. Big ones, little ones, in-between ones-more than I'd ever seen.

My expostulation drew laughter. I turned surly again. I moved among the men, harassing them about the medical kits I expect them to carry on a mission. I was in a better mood when I finished. They all had them.

The windwhale kept coming down.

The moon disappeared. The instant it did the menhirs began to move. Moments later they began to glow on the side toward us. The side away from the Taken.

Darling rode along the pathway they marked. When she passed a menhir its light went out. I suspect it moved to the far end of the line.

I had no time to check. Elmo and the Lieutenant herded us into a line of our own. Above, the night filled with the squeaks and flutter of manias squabbling for flying room.

The windwhale settled astride the creek.

My god, it was big. Big! I had no idea… It stretched from the coral over the creek another two hundred yards. Four, five hundred yards long, all total. And seventy to a hundred wide.

A menhir spoke. I could not make out its words. But the men began moving forward.

In a minute my worst suspicions were confirmed. They were climbing the creature's flank, onto its back, where mantas normally nested.

It smelled. Smelled unlike anything I've ever smelled before, and strongly. Richly, you might say. Not necessarily a bad smell, but overpowering. And it felt strange to the touch. Not hairy, scaly, horny. Not exactly slimy, but still spongy and slick, like a full, exposed intestine. There were plenty of handholds. Our fingers and boots did not bother it.