Mixed feelings come from Bastet as we look upon the clearing that used to be her home. It’s a little different from when we were last here, but despite the forest starting to reclaim it, the scars of battle are still obvious. It’s only been a month or so, yet greenery is already creeping over the open ground again.

“Are you OK?” I murmur to the raptorcat, the sound deadened and muffled. Fade is active, stealth too. It’s the first time I’ve used either of them since levelling up so many times and the difference is obvious. I checked with Bastet when I first activated them, and she confirmed that my scent was harder to detect, the sounds I created slightly muffled. I suppose it’s not surprising – my Willpower has more than doubled in the last few days and that’s supposed to be the deciding factor for concealment from physical senses. I’ll have to check with Kalanthia when I get back as to whether I’m any more difficult to detect with her telepathy or whatever it is she uses.

After getting my Core back into mint condition, I knew exactly where I wanted to bring my Bound – two birds; one stone. Or one lump of ore, anyway….

The adult raptorcat takes a few moments to respond, and when she does, it’s not all that clear. Ever since the underground tunnels, I’ve found that her communications have been significantly easier to parse, but this one is jumbled enough to appear more like they were when we first Bonded. Longing, sadness, nostalgia, regret, are all present, but along with them, more positive emotions. Pride, solidarity, a fierce protectiveness, and determination are also there.

If I had to guess, she’s feeling a remarkably human sentiment of sadness about the past and her losses, but pride and satisfaction in what she has now. Or perhaps that’s me overly anthropomorphising again.

“Do you want to wait here?” I ask next. The bones of her family are in that clearing, after all. Her response is a little unexpected – unhesitating desire to accompany us, to protect us. Well, maybe it’s not so surprising, then – she remembers losing one family in this place; she’s going to do her damn best to make sure she doesn’t lose another. “OK,” I acknowledge. I frown at the entrance to the cave. Why are my instincts telling me there’s something in there?

I scan the area. There’s no evidence of a resident. No half-eaten kills, no marks of claws on trees, no depressed areas where a creature might normally lie. It all looks untouched. Yet something tells me that the cave is not unoccupied.

“Do you think there’s something in the cave?” I ask my Bound quietly. Three out of four immediately agree. Yes, I have the whole posse with me, bar the cubs who have stayed with Kalanthia and Lathani. Even Sirocco is there, sitting quietly in a tree and watching out for us.

On that note, I’ve noticed a change in her since our discussion: she’s been more approachable, less standoffish. Although she didn’t join us in the cave, I sensed that she roosted in a tree closer to it than previously. Plus, her side of the Bond feels more...open. Relaxed. Like maybe she’s not on guard against me trying to seize control of it at any moment. It’s an unexpected expression of trust; one that makes me more hopeful about our future as a group.

She’s also the only one who doesn’t agree. She sends me a sharper version of the same image I’m looking at and a sense of uncertainty. Clearly, even the sharp-eyed bird can’t see anything amiss. However, the other three all seem confident that my instincts weren’t wrong.

Fenrir sends a sense of a smell to me. It’s a strange sensation: I don’t actually smell the scent myself, but it feels like I did. It’s strong, and not something I have any hope of identifying. Bastet agrees with my sense of something being there, but is unsure what. River is the only one to have any idea.

I believe it is some sort of click-grunt-flash-of-red. Of course, that doesn’t help me much either.

“Can you describe it to me?” I ask. Instead of describing, he sends me a still image. My face automatically screws up in a grimace as I see it. Another of this planet’s horrors, apparently. It looks like a millipede with a stinger and massive fangs. Actually, not that dissimilar from one of the things that attacked me in my first days here, only bigger and uglier. And with a stinger, as if the creature had needed more weapons. I still have those barbed legs in my Inventory somewhere, I think to myself – I really need to go through my Inventory and actually start using these things or get rid of them. Then again, I’ve got lots of space so it’s not urgent.

Of course, if this is a rematch, then I’m the one who’s gained more firepower on my side: the snilapede may have got a stinger, but I’ve got a Bastet, Fenrir, and River. It’s also my turn to be the ambusher.

“Did you make any more of that poison?” I ask River thoughtfully.

Yes. I managed to find enough ingredients to recreate it. I didn’t find a black blob though so I still do not have any more of the poison which attacks stamina regeneration. A black blob?

“What black blob?” I ask blankly.

An ambush predator that hides in the trees and attacks from above with a single appendage bearing poison. Oh. Oh. That black blob. Briefly wondering why he’s used my term for them, I dismiss it as some sort of translation feature since we both know what we’re talking about. It makes a lot of sense – when I was attacked by a blob before and saved by Spike, I’d been completely paralysed, unable to move. That sounds very like this kind of poison.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I grin. I am completely in favour of hunting down those bastards to provide us with sufficient poison to deal with our own enemies. Perhaps that’s hypocritical, to dislike the species for what they do and then use their venom to do the same thing, but I don’t care. It’s a dog eat dog world out here.

“Let’s coat our weapons, then,” I say to River and match my actions to words when he passes over a container. “Right,” I continue, looking back at the cave from which there is still no sign of the occupant we’re all convinced is present. “No way do we want to fight the thing in there. Here’s the plan – let me know if you have any better ideas.”

*****

Fenrir stumbles into the clearing, blood dripping down his leg. He’s limping and making low moaning noises. The creature within the cave doesn’t stir but there’s the sense that something is now paying attention. Fenrir stumbles over his own foot and falls to the ground, letting out a yelping noise. The sense of watchfulness increases, anticipation rising. As the seconds tick by and Fenrir stays still, only the lifting of his side any indication that he still lives, the tension grows.

Finally, it breaks as the creature emerges into the light. It is as we’d thought – a more powerful, more deadly snilapede. Where the first one had been a bit over a metre long and perhaps five centimetres thick, this one is as thick around as my thigh, and at least five metres long. Its fangs are the length of my hand, and gleam with deadly poison. It darts forward, its multitude of legs carrying it quickly towards the prone lizog.

However, it never gets there. As it darts forwards, it is blindsided by a raptorcat leaping out of camouflage to its side. Bastet’s stealth seems to have improved a little too, perhaps due to her progress towards Tier Two, but her success is mostly to do with the glacial pace she used to get closer. I’d been able to find her when I tried, but if I blocked out the sense of her through the Bond, she was practically invisible. By also hiding in one of the crevices caused by Kalanthia’s attack, she kept her approach concealed from the snilapede until too late.

Her attack doesn’t do much damage, but it diverts the snilapede’s head enough that its fangs bash into the rock instead of its hapless prey. As for said prey, I’m impressed by Fenrir’s acting skills. He leaps to his feet, all signs of weakness completely absent. The small cut we’d made in his skin in order to allow a bit of blood out is already healed, my Lay-on-hands making sure he was in top condition before the play even started. He joins the fight by digging his powerful jaws into the snilapede’s length and biting down hard.

River and I are not idle, either. As soon as Bastet leaped, we’d come running into the fray, our weapons bared. I’d taken the opportunity before coming to just quickly sharpen a stick into a rough spear. It’s not as good as the flint-tipped one I’ve given to River, but I’ll replace it soon, hopefully with a metal-tipped one, if today plays out the way I hope it will. But first, we need to clear the way.

The snilapede doesn’t stand much chance against us all. Using the poison may even have been overkill. Bastet doesn’t do much damage, but she’s an excellent distraction. She has the speed and reflexes to be able to avoid its venomous fangs, but, like with the salamander, her slashing claws are just annoying enough to keep the snilapede’s attention.

Fenrir is just holding on, like the pit bull he seems similar to, his teeth slowly digging in deeper. If he manages to get through the creature’s spine, it’s game over for the snilapede. As for River and I, we just keep stabbing with our weapons, finding the softer spots between the snilapede’s armoured skin, delivering our poison.

It’s a race to see what gives first – the snilapede’s stamina, or its spine. The only problem is that we’ve forgotten one thing: its stinger. I’m painfully reminded of its existence when I don’t manage to dodge in time as it flashes at me. The venomous barb pierces my side, avoiding my chitin breast and backplate completely.

I yell in pain, though after its initial flash, it dims significantly. I can feel the venom pumping through my system. It withdraws and I just know it’s going to strike at someone else. My health is dropping, about a health point per second. That’s not nearly enough to take me down; I just send a Lay-on-hands running through my body and focus on the stinger.

Timing it right, I drop my spear and jump at it bodily as it prepares to strike again. Grabbing on, I hold on for dear life, trusting my other bound to keep the front part of the snilapede occupied. Shifting my grip when it stops flailing around quite so much, I cling on like a monkey with both legs and a single hand. With the other hand, I reach for my knife and proceed to stab, slice, and saw at the chitinous tail.

Everything is a flurry of activity, but by the time I manage to detach the venomous head from the rest of the muscle, the fight is pretty much over. I fall to the ground, letting go of my strong grip, only to see that the snilapede is on its last legs. Literally – all the legs below Fenrir’s grip have stopped moving. Clearly he’s hit something important. The front part of the snilapede isn’t looking so great either, its movements slowed significantly and appearing almost drunk. With a forceful spear-strike from River to the back of its head, the attacker is done.

Although everyone looks fine, if a little tired, I quickly hurry around to apply healing. I start with Bastet, since she was most at risk. There’s a little poison in her system – clearly she didn’t manage to avoid every strike – but it’s still far from posing any danger to her. I clear it out anyway – no point in making her lose health she doesn’t need to. River is absolutely fine, only a few small cuts to his feet and lower legs indicating that the snilapede might have stepped on him a few times. Fenrir is completely uninjured, his position keeping him away from anything but the stinger which never targeted him.

All my Bound fine, I take a moment to clear the rest of the poison out of my own system – I couldn’t do it in the fight due to needing more concentration than I could spare at the time. Done, a grin spreads across my face and I marvel at what we’ve become. A monster like that would have been really dangerous to me alone, and probably pretty dangerous even if I’d had Bastet there too. But for the four of us? Almost a piece of cake.

Clear-up can wait. Time to see what’s in the cave, finally, I think to myself with anticipation.