Over the following month, Zogrusz devoted himself to repairing the facade of his mountain abode. He dragged the remnants of shattered pillars and broken statues away from the entrance, and then heaved them over the side of a steep cliff. At first, he couldn’t bear to watch his hard work explode into fragments far below, but as the cave mouth became clearer of debris he found his excitement growing about the work he would soon undertake to replace what Anecoya had in her tantrum destroyed.

Zogrusz became so lost in his labors that he didn’t realize that others had arrived until the ground suddenly trembled. He turned to find that a huge gnarl of rock and earth had appeared farther down the mountain like a second peak budding up from among the boulders, though he knew in truth that it had descended from above. Origenius must have ripped off the top of a hill he’d found in a warmer clime, because this makeshift transport was covered in grass speckled with wildflowers, and the sides sloped down gently so that those atop it could easily disembark. Which they were – Qala was first, of course, her little arms and legs flailing as she hurled herself through the long grass, running so fast Zogrusz feared she might fall and tumble the rest of the way. Behind her came Origenius, keeping pace with his long strides despite not exhibiting nearly the same degree of excitement, and draped around his neck was a familiar moon-colored feline. The stone man held something long and thin that Zogrusz hadn’t seen before, like a staff or a spear, and whatever was affixed to its end glittered darkly in the midday sun.

“Zog!” Qala yelled as she reached the mountain proper and began scrambling over the scree towards him. “Zog!”

A tingling numbness washed through Zogrusz when she came close enough that he could hear the edge of panic in her voice. Something was very wrong.

“Qala, what is it?” he asked when she finally reached him.

She looked disheveled, her blonde hair hanging in scraggly, sweaty clumps, and her eyes were wild. “It’s here,” she said between panting breaths, and it took him a moment to realize what she was talking about.

“Where?” he finally said, a cold fist closing around his heart.

She lifted her face to the cloudless blue. “It’s moving through our system – honestly, I don’t know how it got so close without me noticing. It just . . . materialized.”

Zogrusz took a deep breath, calming his suddenly thundering pulse. He needed to maintain absolute control in this moment . . . and what was soon to come. “Then this is it. Have you told Anecoya?”

“She’s on her way and will be here soon,” Qala assured him. “Then we can leave this world and meet the monster before it gets here.”

Zogrusz frowned. “You’re not accompanying us,” he said with finality, glancing at Origenius and Rhas as they came to loom over Qala. The cat and the stone warrior both looked somber, their faces hardened by the seriousness of the situation. “Tell her she’s not coming,” Zogrusz said, now addressing Rhas.

The cat gazed down at Qala, who had placed her hands on her hips and was staring up at them fiercely. “I’ve tried, but I can’t command her,” he said with a sigh.

“It’s too dangerous,” Zogrusz insisted.

“You need me,” Qala countered, jabbing a finger at him and then turning it on herself. “I’ve been developing a way to protect your mind from the older Horror. I think I can keep it from transforming you into something terrible . . . but I have to be close by. Ori has promised to protect me. Won’t you, Ori?”

The stone man dipped his head stiffly. “I will protect you with my life, little princess.”

Zogrusz scowled, annoyed that Origenius would support this madness. “Why can’t you do this from afar?” he asked, true fear creeping into him for the first time. It was one thing for beings like Anecoya and Origenius to battle for the fate of this world . . . but not Qala. She was still a child in many ways.

“I can’t,” she said simply. “I’m not sure if I can explain it clearly, but I suppose you deserve an attempt. You see, the mind . . . it's like a house. There is a foundation that is permanent, created at the birth of every being, mortal or cosmic. As we grow, we build a structure atop this base through our experiences, which helps shape our personality . . . this is how we become who we are. You were different in that much of the materials for your house were taken from something else when you encountered the humans on this world for the first time. But since then, you have continued to grow and evolve into your own unique self. I believe that this Reaper will tear down this structure and erect in its place something more similar to what exists in other Eldritch Horrors. Perhaps, if Ixia was right, what you should have been given long ago. And when it tries to hit you with this . . . this hurricane, I have to be nearby so I can reinforce your walls and keep them from collapsing. I can’t do something this complex from all the way down here.”

Zogrusz flexed his claws in frustration. “But you’re saying you think you can protect my mind?”

For the first time, Qala looked uncertain. “Truthfully, I don’t know . . . but if anyone can, it’s me.”

A great weight settled on Zogrusz’s shoulders, and he bowed his head. So much would be lost if they failed to turn away the Reaper – and now he had to add Qala to that tally. He had always thought she would use her great powers to avoid the fate of the rest of this world . . . but now he saw that she was as willing as the rest of them to give her life to save it. The emotions twisting inside him at this moment were difficult to fully parse – gratitude and sadness, guilt and fear – although one loomed over everything else: a terrible anger that this Horror would so callously destroy everything he had ever cared for.

“Zog,” Qala said, and with some effort, he pulled himself from his brooding. “I have something for you.”

As if responding to an unspoken command, Origenius stepped forward and held out what he had carried here. It resembled a spear, with a long silvery haft, but its point was strangely warped and uneven. After a moment, Zogrusz realized that this glistening black object affixed to the spear’s end was the Heart of the world-mind that Qala had taken from the dead city of the snake men.

“Ixia told me many times that it’s the hardest material in the universe,” Qala explained as Zogrusz’s hand closed around the spear. The haft felt warm in his grip, and it might have been his imagination, but he thought he felt a thrumming from within. Almost as if there truly was a heart inside.

“I didn’t think your claws would do very much against a bigger and stronger Horror, so I asked Ori to make this for you – if anything can hurt the Reaper, it’s this.”

Zogrusz turned the spear this way and that, watching the light slide along its silvery length and then vanish when it reached the Heart’s perfect darkness. He imagined all those souls trapped within its bottomless depths, consigned there by the Reaper’s scouring of their world . . . he supposed there was a certain poetic justice if he wielded it now against Ycthitlig.

He could understand why Qala had given him this weapon.

“I shouldn’t take it,” he told her, but he knew he sounded half-hearted. “When I grow to the full extent of my true form it will be like I’m holding a needle.”

“A needle stabbed in the right spot is still very uncomfortable,” Qala told him. “Ori and Annie have their blades. You needed a weapon.”

His claws tightened around the haft, pulling the spear closer to his body. “Very well.”

She grinned, her expression suddenly brightening like the sky after a summer storm. Then she glanced up, shielding her eyes against the sun. Zogrusz followed where she was looking and noticed that a blazing comet had appeared, etched against the endless blue.

“Ah, Annie’s here. It’s time.”