"Ke'magne vom, Morranne," Northmarch whispered. “Well spotted.” They gave him a tiny nod, ears swiveling like radar dishes. Sawada looked shaken, like maybe he wished he hadn't come along. Not that you'd ever hear it from him-once he'd committed to something he was stubborn as an Alba loanshark collecting late interest.

"Never seen one that big," he muttered. "Thing must eat pretty damn well in-"

Morranne started signing frantically all of a sudden. "Sharkie, MOVE!" Northmarch yelled. Without even thinking I dove off to one side, instincts acting on the command before my mind could process it. Something black and gray and massive as a locomotive hove through the space where I'd just stood. It was moving so fast I couldn't see it in the dimness, but I knew what it was.

Leave it to a cat to not leave well enough alone. Morranne's shotgun boomed as I scrambled up, six shots downrange before the first spent shell hit the ground. The projectiles made the thing twitch and yowl, a sound like a power sander on a steel drum, but didn't seem to do much else. More lights were aimed at it now. The pergato was big as a six-wheeler van, with a long-fanged, blunt snout and eyes that flashed purple-white in our light beams. It was covered in fur the color of fog and shadow, with dark gray plates like chitin on the crown of its head and down the center of its chest. Feathery whiskers depended from its snout like a mustache, and a long tail danced back and forth behind it, tipped with a pointed plate of armor.

It crouched there and growled at us, a basso noise that sent liquid shivers up my legs. Morranne jacked shells into their gun, clack-clack-clack. "Do not be scared," said Northmarch, his voice far steadier than mine would have been. "I have hunted these before. Four is enough." I spared a glance at him and found him slightly crouched, ready to move, his heavy knife held in a warding position before him. Between us, Sawada had his gun out in one hand. Good idea. I reached for my coilgun just in time to see the fucking thing spring at me.

It was like staring down a speeding bulk hauler. One moment twenty feet away, the next close enough to touch, crushing down the undergrowth like it wasn't there. Steely claws flashed, fanged mouth yawned like an animal trap-

And my saw was up, cutting across its mouth as I barely dodged, so close one of its trailing whiskers flicked across my face. It let loose another scratchy howl at the pain, but I'd just pissed it off. I regained my footing and saw it doing the same, coiling about for another pass at me. Maybe this thing went by carceyard rules-kill the biggest guy first. Whatever. I was just glad it was attacking me and not Dad.

My heart was pounding as its muscles wound up once more, but I felt a grin tugging at my face. The watery feeling in my knees was gone. This thing bled, ergo it could die. For once a fight where I didn't feel like the weird kid who pulled the legs off cockroaches before she killed them. I revved the saw at the hellcat, sss sss. "Come the fuck on, then. I could use a nice coat."

The pergato hissed back, loud as an air-arc, and shot at me again. I jumped aside once more, bringing the saw about to carve a shallow slice into its flank. "Yeah, motherfucker. I already saw that one-"

I was suddenly on the ground, mouth full of loam and moss, my skull feeling like it had been used as a bucking bar. Kingsdamn thing had whacked me with its tail. I had to stand. I staggered up, spat, spun blearily, saw the thing lined up to pounce again. I swung the saw into an approximation of a guard. I'd be fucked if I was going to go out like cat food.

Before it could smear me into the dirt, a veritable broadside of gunfire smashed into it. I looked over and saw that while the thing was zero'd in on me, Sawada and Morranne had got to one side of it and opened up. Whatever Morranne had put in the shotgun, slug loads maybe, it was leaving big bloody holes in the cat's side. Mixed in with its booms were the reedy cracks of Dad's ten milly. He shot in a funny, one-handed stance, old school, but I saw his bullets hitting the thing's armored skullcap and impacting around its eye.

It caterwauled in pain and rage, turning toward them and leaping. "Dad!" I screamed, all that murderous adrenaline flashing to icewater in my veins. I was already chasing after it. Didn't matter. The fucking thing was too fast, he was going to get killed, my fault, all my fault.

Then Northmarch shot out of the brush, tackling my dad flat to the ground. The 'gato shot right over them, landed hard with its claws ripping up weeds and earth, then immediately lunged again at Morranne. They'd dropped the shotgun to hang from its sling, that big bolo machete already in their left hand. They swayed away from the jumping cat, ducking a head-sized paw with apparent nonchalance. They lashed out with the blade as they dodged, leaving a deep cut in the back of the 'gato's hind knee.

By this time I'd gotten over my shock and yanked the SKH out of its holster. I thumbed it to penetrators, felt one thunk into place. The thing was stutter-stepping back and forth now in that winding way cats do. I couldn't get a good bead on it, cursed myself for being such a shit shot. But then I saw Northmarch out of the corner of my eye, saw him relax and lower his guard. The fuck? I looked back to the pergato. It stared at me for a moment with its creepy reflective eyes. Then it blinked, turned around, and scampered off into the forest-if something the size of a small bus can scamper.

"That's...that's it?" I asked no one in particular. I was still a little woozy from getting nailed in the head, and swayed over to a knee-like tree trunk to sit.

"Ellery, girl! Are you alright?" Dad ran over to me, looking pale.

"I'm fine. I'm...fine. Just give me a sec, Dad. Are you okay?"

He held up his arm, showing a small cut. "It just nicked me before Northy got me out of the way. I've had worse from normal cats." He'd smiled, but still looked worried. "You're sure you're good? That was an ugly hit. You've got a concussion for sure."

For no reason I could define, I hadn't told him about my little tungsten issue. Maybe after we got out of here. It was possible he'd know something, though I doubted it.

"I'm sure. I'll get scanned when we're done in here, I promise." I prodded gingerly at the side of my head where I'd been hit. It was going to be an ugly bruise. "Now why the fuck did that thing run off?"

"They are intelligent beasts," Northmarch said as he and Morranne joined us, the latter hanging back. "It decided we were too dangerous and cut its losses."

"No fancy fur coat, then."

"Don't lose all hope," he smirked. Morranne stood behind him almost like a bodyguard, slowly reloading their gun. Almost seemed like they were trying to keep it quiet, sliding in the shells as slow as possible and twitching when each clicked into place. How oddly polite.

"That was a young one, mostly unarmored," Northmarch continued. "If his parents are nearby, they are like to be big enough to dress all four of us."

"Wait, North. You're saying that was a kitten?" asked my dad.

"A juvenile. The adults have more carapace. That one will likely be a couple feet taller at his shoulders when he is done with growing."

"Damn," I muttered.

Sawada whistled. "Ho-lee-shit. I'm glad it was Junior we ran into."

Northmarch looked away, seeming distant. "Once, in the Chasm, I was ranging in a place called the Five Day Stair. I came upon a pawprint, there. This wide." He spread his hands a few feet apart. We all looked on in silence. "Disbelieve, if you like. I would be skeptical had I not seen it myself. Administration knows not what they have allowed to grow in the places light does not reach." He waved an arm around at the forest in general. "Proof is here."

In the ensuing silence, I took a few gulps of water and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to dispel my headache. Didn't work. Dad patted me on the shoulder as he spoke. "I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to be here when Mommy and Daddy Cat come looking. Should we keep going?"

"Yes, we ought to, if Sharkie is ready." I nodded and shoved myself upright, hands on my knees. "Right then." He spoke to Morranne in whatever language they shared, who began moving to take point.

"Morranne. Northmarch." They both stopped and turned at the sound of my voice, the latter calm and the former looking a bit nervous beneath their scarf. "Thank you, both of you. Thank you for saving my dad and I." Sawada nodded vigorously to confirm. "Can you tell them what I said, Northy?"

His lips quirked at the nickname, but he turned and said something to Morranne. They stared at me, ears flicking, then blinked and gave a formal nod, even bowing a little. Then they spun on their heel and darted up ahead to break trail.

"That bow means, "It was my honor," by the way," Northmarch explained. "Please do not be offended. As I said, they are not the best with other-"

"It's fine, man. I understand how it feels being on the outside. Maybe not the same way they are, but still."

He smiled. "I believe they appreciate your gratitude."

The next half-hour or so was mostly uneventful. I would never get used to having leafy, slimy, hairy, befronded things brushing across my face and down my back, but compared to fighting a truck-size kitty cat it was small paste. After a bit of walking my head felt better, so I spelled Morranne on brush duty while they looked over my shoulder and kept us headed straight. Once I stepped into a funny pitcher plant that acted like a tiny pitfall trap, and it nearly kept my boot. Then there was a pitched battle against some very aggressive brambles that had grown in a mat across the trail. They grew so fast I could actually see it, the ends of the vines glowing like fiber-optics. Other than nearly chopping into a mushroom that Morranne (through Northmarch) explained was full of nerve gas, we stayed safe up until we got to a cave entrance heading into the side of a hillock.

It was a tunnel maybe four feet across, framed and floored by gnarled roots of black and silver and deep bruised purple. They reminded me of the massed cables of a server farm, or of spilled offal on the slaughterhouse floor. Kings fucking dammit, this place played on my nerves.

"Our destination lies though here," Northmarch told us after a whispered consultation with Morranne. "I understand this is less than desirable," he added upon seeing the look on my face, "but the way aboveground is impassable. Trees packed in knots, groves of gold snappers that would have our skin off in three steps. Through here it must be."

For all my bitching, it wasn't like I was going to stay behind or turn around. I shook my head, and we followed Morranne into the tunnel. They stayed hunched around their gun, the muzzle swaying from side to side like a dowsing rod. At least it wasn't much darker in here than outside. Clusters of parasitic mushrooms pulsed a soft pink as they pulled vitality out of the roots that lined the tunnel, and some patches of velvety lichen flashed blue and softly hissed like a leaky air line as we passed. Something like wiggly grass grew in the seams between the roots, dancing and waving around. Each little frond was tipped with a tiny thorn-lined mouth, and when I brushed against them they bit shut and jerked back into the wall. Intrigued enough to overcome my revulsion, I trailed a hand across them. They pulled back in a sequential wave, which was cool until one nipped my finger and drew a little blood. Apparently revulsion was, in fact, the best policy here. Would have ripped the bastard thing out of the dirt if I could have reached it. Fucking plants.

Our course wended left and right but sloped steadily downward. The height of the ceiling increased after a few minutes, a fact for which my spine was grateful. At one point we had to hop down a drop-off of about five feet. Sawada was ahead of me. He hopped down, looked back to see if I needed help, and his eyes about popped out of his head. "Get down here, Sharkie! Look at this!"

I got down and looked. Rather than a boulder or something, the drop-off was made by a huge, angular lump of bronzy-red metal, its face still bearing the ghost of long-corroded circuitry.

"What the fuck is it?" I asked him.

"No...fucking...clue." He sounded very happy about it.

"There is much that has been buried and forgotten in Savlop-2," said Northmarch. "It is an old city, and this is an old world. Whatever it is, it could date to Lastdusk, or the Dekarchy, or the Lastwar or even before. Humans have lived here for so very long-"

"The Lastwar?" I interrupted, surprised into rudeness. "That actually happened?" It was part of Dakessar mythology (Kestite, too, but they generally agreed on what had happened, just not on whether it was good or not). A vast, star-spanning war, with men who lived on different planets around different suns fighting each other and the Kestite devils (or saints) and most of all the armies of the great and nonspecific Enemy. The Ten Martyred Kings had, well, martyred themselves to end it. To me it always sounded like something out of a mediocre book, and I would definitely know.

"Something certainly happened. All the sources I've found agree on that, though not on what or when or who was involved." He lay a hand on the metal, which was slick with condensation. "Much of historical record is made up of copies of reproductions of transcriptions of translations and so on. And at every stage information is missed or twisted. We will never even know what exactly has been lost, let alone recover it."

"That's also why old sources are so valuable," added Dad. "Hence our current..." He gave a vague wave of his hand. "...situation."

"What are you even expecting to find?"

"Who the hell knows? Might be nothing, might be a copy of The Complete History of the Human Race from Monkeys to the Lastwar. Either way, we get to stand in a building that probably felt sunlight once. Who else can say that? It's cool!"

I guess it was, at that. At that moment Morranne returned from where they'd gone down the tunnel, not having realized we'd stopped. They looked confused as to why until Northmarch said something and pointed to the lump of metal. When he was done their ears quirked. They slung their shotgun and pulled something out of one of their many pockets: a thumb-size, irregular lump of the same reddish metal. Without further ado they walked up and pressed it against its counterpart. Immediately a wave of oil-slick rainbow color shot through the bigger piece's circuitry and it emitted a quiet, glassy, sound-something almost like the aaaoooowww you here when you hold your mouth open real close to a fan.

Sawada, Northmarch, and I all had the same mystified look on our faces for a second, but my Dad and Northy both were in Morranne's face almost immediately.

"What did you do?"

"Dho maelka czerintem?"

"Has it always done that?"

Morranne put their hands up as if protesting innocence, ears going flat against their head. I went over and reined in the rabid historians, putting a hand on their shoulders. "I'm not sure Morranne's got any more of an idea than we do." Both looked up at me in comical unison, then shuffled back.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry about that there, Morr." My dad rubbed the back of his neck. Northmarch passed on both of their apologies, and Morranne looked up at me a moment and gave me a small nod. I returned it and we got going.

I was continuously surprised by how long this tunnel was, though it twisted so much the actual distance covered had to be shorter. Once a small stream even joined us, flowing out of a small hole in the wall, then draining away down a side path a few hundred feet later. The water looked gelid, just a bit too sticky and viscous. I didn't even want to step in it, let alone drink any.

How many more tunnels like this were there? How deep did they run? For all we knew the surface of the park was just a tiny fraction of what there was. I had a disturbing vision of mutant roots and mycelia creeping their way beneath the whole city, insinuating themselves into cisterns and around power lines, growing up beneath floors and behind walls...Ugh. Wouldn't be able to sleep at night if I kept thinking like that.

After more walking and a run-in with a very large and aggressive colony of the bitey grass (I was sure Morranne had better names for all this weird crap, but mine worked), we arrived. Morranne skulked ahead alone to scope the place out, but returned very soon. "Vemt enhuyw nimun' nehya," they whispered to Northmarch. They talked for a few seconds more, then Northmarch turned to face Dad and I.

"Someone else is at the temple," he said. Straight to the point. "They are not friends, nor anyone Morranne has seen before."