The Stonies from the Village of Dela moved as one until they reached within a few dozen feet of the two gods. They paused. Their humming ceased, and they cautiously looked at one another, curious as to the sight before them. Among their assembly, Snooze saw two faces that surprised her. Anik and Pili.

They didn’t seem to recognize her. Though, no one did.

What exactly was that ability that Perth used to pretend to be them? Snooze thought to herself.

A Stonie with big bushy gray eyebrows stepped forward. He was wearing the traditional laurel band around his forehead that signified him as the village leader—whom Snooze had been referring to as the Mayor— Jors. Jors of the Ten Waves.

“What creatures be you?” he asked in a hoarse, confident voice that was used to getting answers.

“We are… Ngak.” Snooze said, feeling terrible for lying.

“You are not Ngak!” cried a rough-looking woman in pale blue wool with an ornament fastened in her curly hair. Snooze knew her as Deki, Jors’ chosen mate, and he hers. She commanded the gatherers.

“But we are Ngak!” Snooze said, using their simpler style of address. She knew the language inside and out, and even knew how she could improve it, perhaps to where it might sound in hundreds of years. However, Snooze also knew that the current moment wasn’t the time to set out to be the mother of invention, and so she endeavored to continue lying. Poorly.

“From what village hailed?” Deki demanded.

“The… Uh, Village…” Snooze floundered for the name of any of the other tribes in the world but, her mind was blank, and for the first time in the history of ever, words were failing her.

“...of… Spice… y...” she said, immediately regretting how stupid it sounded.

“Speh See?” Mayor Jors asked, trying to sound the word out in his language. He’d almost gotten it.

“Spesi.” He said again, this time with more confidence.

“Yeah, er, Spicy Village,” Snooze said, switching it up in an attempt to make it sound more natural, but she had a feeling it did not.

“Spesi Village is not one recognized,” Jors said, lowering his bushy brows suspiciously.

“It’s a long time away,” Snooze said, looking over at Riff, who shrugged, “many moons we have traveled.”

“Traveled, why?” Mayor Jors asked.

“To protect,” Snooze said, “my friends and I have—“

“Where is the Protector?” Deki asked, interrupting Snooze’s farce, “the totem beast that led us from harm.”

Snooze frowned. Were they referring to Meat?

“The Protector was hurt by the… other beast.”

There was a gasp from the entire clan before her, and several worried glances were shared. They began muttering and wringing their hands.

“Calm.”

Jors had lifted a hand to quiet the village, and all of them instantly stopped muttering and gasping. Then he pointed at Snooze.

“The Protector was hurt? Fighting the shadow?”

Snooze nodded.

“Yes, he fought well. The shadow is gone. But at great cost.”

Mayor Jors harrumphed deeply, and squinted.

“Where?”

Snooze moved to the side, revealing the still form of Meat’s translucent husk. The village breathed in soft surprise as one, and Jors was forced to hold up his hand again.

“The Protector is dead?”

Snooze rocked her head from side to side, a gesture that translated among the Stonies as unsure, much like a shrug.

Jors closed his eyes, and then gave a curt nod before turning back to his village.

“The Protector has fallen,” he said simply, “and gave itself for us. We would not have lived. The shadow was great evil. We must give thanks.”

Then, suddenly, Anik—the real Anik— motioned to the Mayor, indicating he had something to say.

“The Protector is not expired.” He said, and another gaggle of gasps erupted from the villagers.

Mayor Jors scowled, and lifted his silencing hand again.

“Anik, speak.”

“I can feel the Protector. It’s spirit. Still here, but fading,” Anik announced.

Snooze’s heart began to race and she looked to Riff, who nodded encouragingly.

“Please,” Snooze said, “can you save the Protector?” She had no idea how it was possible, but the Book of Leaf had said it was so, and when in doubt, the god tended towards believing those who asserted their knowledge. She felt that this was her only shot in rescuing her Archangel.

Mayor Jors turned to Riff and Snooze. The god noted that he always kept himself perfectly between them and the villagers, in a true show of leadership. She imagined it gave them all a sense of comfort to see their Mayor willing to risk harm’s way for their benefit. Snooze smiled, seeing this serious and necessary act and couldn’t help but remember the Jors of boyhood. He’d been small, and he’d been weak, and the other children of Dela would sometimes torment him and make fun of his manner and his bushy eyebrows.

But Jors had made it his personal crucible to get stronger, always working to become a good hunter and fisherman.

During one severe winter—a rare event in their corner of the world, food had become very scarce. Snooze had wanted to help, but the Book of Leaf frequently reminded her that it would only hurt their growth if she constantly stepping in to aid her people. Jors had left the village, intent to get food for them. He’d fought and killed a pack of Doodleshanks—something the Stonies called Hruk in their language— and fashioned a sled of branches, dragging the remains back to the village while still quite injured. This had warmed the Dela people to the young man, and ever after, he was treated with respect, and grew to become their leader.

Jors spoke very seriously.

“The Dela can save the Protector.”

“Oh, thank you!” Snooze erupted, her eyes brimming with tears. Her heart was full of pride and respect for her little Meatlings.

Jors gave another stiff nod and motioned to Anik. The Templeman stepped forward and walked cautiously past Snooze and Riff, keeping his eyes trained on them as he made his way to Meat’s remains.

Anik studied the still form and examined the area around the husk, careful never to touch the translucent chrysalis in the sand. Then he looked up at his villagers and nodded, and Snooze recognized resolve in his countenance.

Wait…

Digging into the belt around his waist, Snooze watched as Anik produced a thin gray object, and held it aloft in a show of ritual. It was a ceremonial stone knife, used to give offerings of animals to what the Stonies considered the gods of nature.

Anik smiles wryly as he held the dagger up, his eyes finding Pili in the crowd of villagers, and the skin around his sockets relaxed.

“Anik, no!” Snooze yelped.

“I give freely,” Anik said, and plunged the stone knife into his stomach.