Stallan moved with disapproval, but could do nothing. She hurried out, was gone for only a brief time before returning with a wooden chest. From it she took a container of water and used it to cleanse the bite, then stripped the cover from a nefmakel and put it into position. Enge’s moist skin stirred the dormant creature to life and it adhered to her flesh, already beginning to secrete antibacterial fluid. As soon as this was done Stallan took two knotted black lumps from the box.

“I’m going to secure the male’s legs and arms. It won’t be the first time. The creature is vicious.”

The small male fought to escape but Stallan seized it and hurled it to the floor, then knelt on its back, holding it still with one hand. With the other she seized one of the bindings and wrapped it around the beast’s ankles, then inserted the binding’s tail into its mouth. The binding swallowed by reflex, drawing its body tight. Only when it was well-secured did Stallan throw the creature aside.

“I will remain and guard you,” she said. “I must. Vaintè ordered your protection. I have been remiss once and you have been injured. I cannot permit it to happen again.”

Enge indicated begrudging agreement, then looked at the discarded gourd and the fruit tumbled on the floor. She pointed at the prostrate female.

“I’ll get the round-sweet-eating-things. Turn that one over so she can see me.”

Ysel screamed hoarsely when the cold hands grabbed her, lifted her roughly, and pushed her back against the wall. She chewed at her knuckles and sobbed as the other marag stamped towards her, stopped, then held up an orange. Its mouth slowly opened to reveal rows of pointed white teeth. It uttered an animal’s screech as it waved the orange, scratching its claws on the floor when it did this. Ysel could only moan with fear, unaware that she had bitten into the flesh of her fingers and that blood was running down her chin.

“Fruit,” Enge said. “Round, sweet good things that you eat. Fill your stomach, make you happy. Eating makes one strong. Now do as I command.” She spoke temptingly at first, then commanding. “You will take this fruit. You eat at once!”

Then she saw the blood where the creature had injured itself and she turned away in disgust. She put the gourd of fruit onto the floor and signaled Stallan to join her by the door.

“They have crude tools,” Enge said. “You said they had shelters of some kind, as well as large animals to serve them?” Stallan nodded. “Then they must have some degree of intelligence.”

“That doesn’t mean that they can talk.”