True night was still a ways off by the time Zogrusz reached the top of what he thought was the tallest hill outside Amotla – though in truth it was little more than a knoll rising above the otherwise perfectly flat grasslands. No trees or shrubs infringed on his view, so he found a comfortable spot to sprawl in a patch of purple clover and proceeded to watch the darkness steal over the city. Motes of flickering light began to drift around his head – tiny bugs that veered away abruptly after drawing close, as if sensing there was something very wrong about him.

“Zog.”

He glanced over and saw that Rhas had appeared in the grass beside him. The insects swarmed the world-spirit, dancing around it as if attracted by the moon-glow of its fur.

“Rhas,” Zogrusz said, nodding a greeting. “You have news, then? A plan?”

The cat gave its head a little shake, dislodging a bug that had settled on its nose. “Damn things,” it muttered before turning to look up at Zogrusz. “I wish I could have chosen what life developed on this world. Even I don’t like insects, and in truth they make up more of the total organic mass of me than any other kind of animal.”

“Despite being so small?”

“There are a lot of them, Zog,” the cat murmured, swiping at a bug that had gotten too close. “So, so many. Which is partly why I like spiders – they eat a huge amount of these little monsters.”

“I assume you didn’t bring me up here to complain about insects.”

Rhas’s ear twitched. “No. I wanted to discuss a . . . a possibility. Truly, I don’t know if it will help us solve our problem, but it’s the only avenue I can imagine that gives us even the slightest hope.”

The world-mind’s cryptic comments succeeded in stirring Zogrusz’s curiosity . . . and ignited another small spark inside him, something he hadn’t been expecting. Hope. Had Rhas discovered a way to save this world?

The sound of someone trudging through the grass drew their attention, and a moment later Anecoya’s red hair – now a bloody crimson in the fading light – emerged from below as she ascended the hill. Zogrusz briefly entertained the thought of trying out his new psionic blast and sending her tumbling back down the slope, but then decided he wanted to hear what Rhas was going to propose. He was also fairly sure it would be utter chaos if he knocked her over now.

He’d do it later.

When the goddess reached the summit, she put her hands on her hips and scowled at them both.

“Well? I hope you have a good reason for dragging me all the way here.”

Rhas stretched deeply while Zogrusz climbed to his feet. He really didn’t like her looking down on him.

“I can’t say I have a solution,” the cat admitted, “but perhaps – and this is a very unlikely perhaps, I must admit – I have found a path to a possible solution.”

Rhas paused – somewhat dramatically – and Anecoya made an impatient gesture for him to get on with it. “The universe is full of cosmic beings,” the cat finally stated, his gaze lingering on Zogrusz before shifting to Anecoya. “Entities of great age and power. We world-minds in truth know little about most of them – they exist on the periphery of our understanding, occasionally deigning to interact with one of the life-forms we harbor . . . or even sometimes wreaking devastation on us. Eldritch Horrors are one of the most well-known of all cosmic beings because their appearances have resulted in the destruction of so many worlds. But when I asked the others about how to survive a visitation by a Horror . . . a Reaper . . . silence. The other minds had never heard of a world surviving after attracting such an entity’s attention.”

“Then you are doomed,” Zogrusz said glumly, the spark of hope inside him guttering. “We are doomed.”

“As I said, perhaps,” the cat continued. “You see, while we world-spirits might not know how to stop an Eldritch Horror, that does not mean no one in the universe does.”

“Another cosmic being,” Anecoya guessed.

Rhas bobbed his head in a cat-approximation of a nod.

“But you said these entities are mysterious and unknowable,” Zogrusz said.

“They do not respect my kind very much,” Rhas admitted, flicking its tail to disperse a swarm of the glowing bugs. “But perhaps they will treat with their own.”

“You know where one is,” Anecoya said slowly, her eyes widening.

“I do,” Rhas replied. “Very good, Annie. Quite perceptive. Or at least I think I do – the world-mind that told me of this being’s presence is . . . less than reliable.”

“Why’s that?”

Rhas’s golden gaze flicked to Zogrusz. “First you must understand something about world-spirits. We are only as advanced as the creatures that comprise us. Humans are quite intelligent, at least compared to species on other worlds, which is why I am so clever and perceptive.”

Anecoya snorted, but Rhas continued undeterred. “However, one of the closest world-minds to me is quite . . . rudimentary. This is because consciousness only recently emerged on its surface . . . and it is very different in nature than what arose here. You see, it’s a kind of communal intelligence. The aggregate of the organic substance that covers the world.”

“Isn’t that what you are?” Zogrusz asked.

“Yes . . . but here each human is a distinct individual. On this other planet, it’s not the same. Rather, it’s all one organism. One big . . . fungus.”

Anecoya blinked, clearly startled. “You mean a mushroom?”

“Something like that,” Rhas said. “Which makes it very difficult to communicate with, because it’s both so foreign and so simple. But it was quite insistent in its own . . . unique way that a cosmic being is currently nearby. That this being actually visited its surface and is still lingering in its system, with no apparent plans to leave.”

“Does it know what kind of being?” Zogrusz asked. “After all, it would be quite the disaster if it turned out to be another Reaper.”

“After much parsing of its rather disjointed ramblings, the name that I drew forth was ‘the Wanderer.’ And it’s a name I’m familiar with.” Rhas paused to scratch behind its ear, and Zogrusz couldn’t help but wonder why the world-spirit had assumed the mannerisms of cats to go along with their form. “Now, as cosmic beings go, the Wanderer is one of the most well-known and reasonable. Sometimes it is even helpful, if the stories are true. The general understanding is that it drifts through the universe collecting knowledge. Why, we have no idea. But there is no record of it being aggressive or dangerous . . . which suggests it would be safe to approach.”

“And do what, exactly?” Zogrusz asked.

Rhas gave him a look like the answer should be obvious. “We ask what, if anything, we can do. Surely this Wanderer knows much about Eldritch Horrors and whether any world has ever defeated one or dissuaded it from going through with its . . . Reaping.”

“So we travel to where it is and ask its help,” Zogrusz said. “But what if says no, or has no answers?”

“Then we have lost nothing but time,” Rhas said.

“We don’t know how much of that we have,” Zogrusz murmured, glancing up at the darkening sky like he expected the stars to wink out and Ycthitlig to suddenly appear.

“We will have to fly there as quickly as possible. Zog, I’ve seen you in your true form . . . I can’t imagine you travel very fast with those stunted little wings.”

“They brought me across the universe,” Zogrusz replied, slightly offended.

“But not quickly, I’d wager,” Rhas continued, turning his golden eyes to the red-haired goddess. “Which is why we need your help, Annie. It’s time to spread your wings.”

“I’ve never left this world,” Anecoya said, and to Zogrusz she sounded a little nervous. “What if I can’t fly between the stars?”

“You are a cosmic being,” the cat assured her. “You were born to soar on solar winds.”

The goddess grimaced, but the world-mind’s words had clearly heartened her somewhat. Then she shifted her attention to Zogrusz, pointing at him accusingly. “Are we sure we can trust him? He’s one of them.”

“I told you Ycthitlig is coming,” Zogrusz reminded her through gritted teeth.

“And perhaps you want us off this world when it arrives,” she continued, folding her arms tightly across her chest. “To make the reaping easier.”

“This is my idea, Annie,” Rhas told her with a sigh. “Not his. And I trust Zog. I’ve watched him for centuries.”

Anecoya blew out her cheeks. “Fine. The demon and I will go to see this Wanderer.”

“I'm coming as well,” the cat said. “I can’t imagine what catastrophes would result if you two were left alone to do this.”

“You can leave?” Zogrusz asked in surprise. “I would have thought you were confined to this world.”

“For a short while,” Rhas informed him haughtily. “And it will only be a sliver of my full consciousness that accompanies you . . . though it will still be significantly smarter than both of you. Combined.”

Anecoya rolled her eyes at this but didn’t bother arguing. “And so when do we leave?” she asked.

“As soon as possible,” the cat answered. “Now, if you both agree. There is no telling how much time we actually have.”

Anecoya nodded. “Very well, cat. I’ve always trusted you, so I suppose I shouldn’t stop doing that now. If you think this is the best course . . . I’m with you.”

“As am I,” Zogrusz added, then looked at the goddess. “But can you truly transport both of us?”

She smirked and took a large step backwards. “Oh, yes,” she said, raising her arms above her head with the palms turned outwards. A shimmering began at her hands, then quickly spread until the edges of her limbs and body blurred, twisted, contorting and swelling. Zogrusz shielded his eyes as a blazing light erupted in the center of her form and raced outwards, consuming Anecoya. When it subsided she was gone, and in her place was an enormous bird large enough to pick up an elephant in its claws, its feathers crackling like flames. Its head swiveled, sword-sharp raptor gaze skewering Zogrusz, and he found he was having trouble looking away from a curving beak that looked easily capable of rending his man-form in half.

“You might have to change your shape, or at least get out of those clothes,” Rhas said, scrambling up onto one of the scythe-like talons furrowing the grass. “It does get a bit hot on her back.”