The same night Krrsh was made pack leader, he led his pack away from the place of death for good. It took longer than he expected.

Running away from potential danger was a very ghoul thing to do. Leaving a food source before being driven away was less of a ghoul thing, perhaps, but not unknown. But what Krrsh told the Ironclaws to do before they left was not something they had ever done. They couldn’t see the point.

“Why make burrows for food?” Grik asked for the tenth time. “Food no need burrow. Food is… food.”

“Burrows not for food.” Krrsh explained once more. Not so much for Grik, who Krrsh suspected would never understand, as for the others, who at least had a chance to understand. If he repeated it enough times.

“Listen. Take food. Put in burrows, like ghoul. Cover with sand, like ghoul in burrow. Make many burrows like that, at least three claws of hands. Understand?”

Grik nodded, but pounded at his ugly, scarred head while he nodded. “Make burrows for food. But why, pack leader?”

“Because when bad thing comes, it see burrows, think ghouls sleeping here. Attack here. Maybe not chase.”

“But why not just run? Run is ghoul way. Burrows for food is not ghoul way.”

Krrsh wanted to bite Grik. Instead, he confused Grik even more. “Whatever ghouls do is ghoul way. We do this, it is ghoul way. If we not do this, not ghoul way. Pack leader says do. Now do.”

Grik latched on to the last part, at least. He joined the others in creating false burrows, at least, even though his expression was still strained.

“Why pack leader do? “Chrrk asked him quietly, suddenly appearing at his side. Or maybe she had been there for some time. Chrrk was quiet when she moved. Too quiet. “Give Chrrk answer, not Grik answer.” By which he knew that she meant give a complete, rather than a simplified answer.

“Bad thing coming. What is bad thing?”

“Bad thing could be any thing,” she replied.

“Yes. But no. Storm is bad, but ghoul know what to do. Lion is bad, but ghoul know what to do. Krrsh think… Wrna not talk about bad thing coming if it is storm, or lion.”

“So what is bad thing?” she asked him, her lovely, calm eyes intent on his.

“Men. Nothing more bad.” Krrsh knew his thinking was right on this. And he also knew that Builder had an enemy, and that enemy was a Man. The pack leader of men. And that Builder expected to fight Men. And that meant Men were coming.

Chrrk gave a single nod. “But why these burrows?” she asked, waving towards where the Ironclaws were dragging corpses out of the pit.

“Men see burrows, Men attack burrows.”

“But Men will find food in burrows, not ghoul. Then men will look more for ghoul.”

“Maybe,” Krrsh acknowledged. “But first they sit and watch food burrows. Maybe for a long time. Maybe give up. Maybe give pack longer to go.”

Chrrk looked at the pack, many of whom were arguing about how deep to put the food, or whether to put two food in one burrow to make it go faster and for less work.

“Running is faster,” she observed.

Krrsh, staring at the squabbling pack, sighed. He could not say she was wrong.

~ ~ ~

“This is the place with no bones,” Krrsh told them nearly two hours later, standing in front of the tunnel’s entrance. “Inside is… Builder. Not ghoul. Not man.”

Wrna scratched at his gray muzzle. “Not ghoul or man. Then what?”

“Krrsh not know what. Maybe Wrna know what. But Builder… friend.” It was not a common word, for ghouls. “Builder talk, but ghoul not see him. Ironclaws not scared, yes? Yes.” With that, Krrsh turned and entered the tunnel. The Ironclaws followed, but some of them were definitely scared.

~ ~ ~

Anomus observed the ghoul pack as they entered the tunnel. There were eighteen adults – ten male and eight female – and six children. Or pups, rather. Four of the females were also with child.

His first impression of them, as a group, was that they were not terribly impressive. Though he knew they were self-aware creatures, their postures and actions were bestial, more so than Krrsh’s, by and large. Most were obviously frightened, though a few seemed unconcerned. Or were at least adept at hiding their fear. The one with its fur gray with age was one. The female whose fur was a dark brown that approached black was another. But of them all, only Krrsh moved with confidence. But Anomus supposed that was only to be expected. Krrsh was familiar with the surroundings, after all.

Anomus decided to greet them. The adults, at least. It meant speaking simultaneously to eighteen individuals, but since the words were identical, it was not a difficult endeavor for him.

“Krrsh has returned to the Tomb with is pack. Congratulations, then, pack leader. And welcome, Ironclaws.”

Most of the ghouls cowered and searched the tunnel for the speaker. Krrsh, of course, did neither.

“Builder. Ironclaws come, yes. And Krrsh pack leader.”

“I have prepared a place for you and your people. You will find the entrance to it were your borrow was. It leads down through the catacombs. Please ensure that your people do not disturb any of the bones there.” Anomus would have had to route the entrance far out of the way to avoid the catacombs. And he wished to see if the ghouls could be trusted to leave the bones alone. He would of course know instantly if any of the bones were disturbed, and could take whatever measures were appropriate. The bones were in no real danger.

Krrsh took some time to consider what he had said. “What means ‘disturb?’” he finally asked.

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~ ~ ~

“Do not eat or touch any of the bones you see,” Builder explained.

“Ah.” Builder was strange about bones, yes. Krrsh knew it. Krrsh turned to his pack. “We go down, pass many bones. No touching, no gnawing. You pups – no play with bones, or pack leader will cut off your ears.” He gave the pups his fiercest glare.

Several of them cowered back, ears flat. But one looked Krrsh in the eye, yawned, and farted.

“Rao like Krrsh when Krrsh pup,” Wrna observed. “Very like Krrsh.”

“That’s… bad,” Krrsh replied, remembering in quick succession some of the bad things he had done as a pup. Things like throwing scorpions on the pack leader. While the pack leader was mating. He shuddered.

“Wrna must watch Rao,” Krrsh declared. “All the time.”

“Wrna need sleep.”

“Wrna old. Old sleep not much.” Krrsh turned to the pup in question, and gave his fiercest glare. He poked a claw into Rao’s nose. “Leave bones alone, you. Pack leader not joke.”

Rao’s mother clamped a hand over the pup’s snout before he could clamp down on the pack leader’s finger with his needle-sharp teeth. “Yes, pack leader,” she said.

“Good. Follow now.”

Krrsh led them the rest of the way down the tunnel, to the cave that Anomus had created for him previously. It had changed. Now it was the entrance to a spiraling stone staircase. Krrsh pointed to the place with no bones, just a few feet away. There wasn’t much need to say anything about it. All of the ghouls had smelled the meat before they had even entered the tunnel.

“Hungry, eat. But later.”

Krrsh descended the stairs, and the pack followed. Very quickly he reached the place of bones. He had never seen it before, and paused on the stairs to look. In the very dim light, he saw long stone hallways stretching out in four directions. In all the walls he saw whole skeletons. Many skeletons. Many, many bones.

He had stopped to look at this place. But also for another reason.

“Builder.”

“Krrsh.”

“Ghoul not need much light. But need some light. Go down more, no more light. Cannot see.”

“I understand. Yes, of course. Do you know how to make fire, Krrsh?”

“Krrsh not know. I know fire, but not how to make fire. That is Man thing.”

“Then I will teach you. It may take a little time. Have your people make themselves comfortable. Once you have lit the torch I will provide, you can then descend.”

Krrsh brought the pack down to the bone place, telling them again to touch no bones and staring at Rao while he said it. Then he sat down to wait for Builder’s promised ‘torch,’ whatever that was.

After a moment, a rough, flat-sided gray rock about the size of his palm slowly formed before him.

“This is flint,” Builder said.

Beside it, a smaller bar of metal formed, its surface even rougher than the flint.

“This is called a steel. When you strike the two together, it should create sparks.”

Krrsh took up the flint and steel and bashed them together. The results were unimpressive. Except for the sound, maybe.

“Not so hard, and drag the steel across the flint.”

Krrsh did so, and was rewarded with a small cascade of sparks. They died quickly, before they touched the floor, or very soon after.

“Is good, Builder. But not enough to see.”

“You are correct. Now comes the difficult part.” A third item slowly formed before Krrsh – a small pile of wood shavings.

“To make fire, you must strike sparks into this tinder. Once a spark catches in the tinder and makes fire, you must gently blow on it to make it bigger, or the fire will quickly die. I warn you, it is more difficult than it sounds. Be patient.”

Krrsh struck sparks onto the wood shavings, once, twice – and a tiny flame came to life! Krrsh bent down to blow on it, but the flame went out before his muzzle even got close.

Krrsh let out a low grown of frustration and set to work once more.

The same thing happened again.

And again. And again. And again.

Soon Krrsh was crouched awkwardly over the tinder, nearly on his elbows, trying to strike sparks and blow as soon as they caught in the shavings. It was not a dignified look for a pack leader. But on the sixteenth try, Krrsh was quick enough. A spark landed, the wood lit, and Krrsh blew – and watched the pile of tinder scatter across the floor at his over-strong breath.

Krrsh had never felt so frustrated. The desire to hurl the flint and the steel down the passageway was almost overwhelming – in fact, before he even realized what he was doing, he had raised his arms to do just that.

Suddenly the firemakers were plucked out of his hands.

“Pack leader not patient,” Chrrk admonished him, and set to gathering up the scattered tinder. When she had it in a pile once more, Chrrk began raining sparks down on it.

Builder spoke in Krrsh’s ear. “When she has set the tinder alight, you will need to place the rough end of the stick into the fire. Gently.”

“What stick?” Krrsh asked, looking around. He saw that a long stick had appeared beside him, with one end chopped up so that it very nearly resembled the tinder.

“Oh. Wait. Builder say when she do. Not if. If Krrsh cannot do–”

He glanced at Chrrk. She was blowing gently on the slowly growing fire that had bloomed in the pile of tinder. She thrust her arm towards Krrsh, her hand opening and closing.

With a whuff, Krrsh put the stick in her hand.

In less than a minute, Chrrk was holding a lit torch for all to see. The other ghouls stared at the flames, firelight and awe dancing in their eyes.

“I like her,” Builder said in Krrsh’s ear.

Krrsh rolled his eyes. But he felt the same as Builder.

~ ~ ~

Anomus created more torches at the base of the ramp, as well as additional flint, steel and tinder. He also created simple torch holders along the walls in the ghoul home, all while Krrsh and the female worked to get a fire lit. He admonished himself for being negligent in that regard. He had grown so used to being able to ‘see’ without regard to lighting that it had simply skipped his mind. He would have to provide for ventilation, else the ghoul’s home would soon fill with smoke. But it could wait. He was eager to view the ghouls’ reactions to what he had built for them. And then, once they had had time to settle in, he needed to have a conversation about the lifting of their curse.

He had inspected each of the creatures, and each had the same diet-related condition that lessened their mental capacity and forced them to eat human flesh to retain what wits they had. Even the ones in the womb. It was written into the secret code that governed their physical shapes and mental attributes.

Anomus could alter individuals without claiming them, in essence erase that portion of their code, but the trait would still be passed on. If future generations were to be free of the disability without his direct intervention, he would have to delve deeper. He believed he could do it, but would have to attempt it to confirm it. It was one of several things he wished to speak with Krrsh about.

The female ghoul, the fire starter, led the procession down the stairs and to the base of the ramp, torch held high. Krrsh was behind her, seeming both annoyed and pleased in equal measure by her success.

She stopped as soon as she entered the space, and gave a sharp, indrawn breath.

The first thing visible upon entering the ghoul home was the frieze. Seeing it had obviously had an effect on the ghoul.

Krrsh nudged her in the back, and she started forward down the ramp again, slowly, her eyes not leaving the eyes of the twenty-foot tall ghoul on the wall.

Krrsh too, saw the artwork, and he too had a strong reaction.

“Welcome to your new home,” Anomus said to them. “I hope that it is a place of safety and growth for the Ironclaws.”

“Builder,” Krrsh said, and pointed to the frieze. “Who is that?”

“That is Ironclaw. That is ghoul. Or what ghouls can be.”

“Is it a god?”

“No. It is just a picture. If you don’t like it, I can remove it.”

Krrsh was silent for a long time. He walked down the wide ramp, but just like the torchbearer, just like all the other ghouls who entered the space, his eyes never left the frieze for long.

“Do you want me to remove it, Krrsh?” Anomus asked.

“No, Builder. Is good.”

The ghouls spent the rest of the night exploring their new habitat. Some played with fire, with the painful if predictable results. Anomus explained to Krrsh what the small chamber with holes in the floor was for. Thankfully, the ghouls seemed to latch onto the idea of a lavatory, perhaps because their sense of smell was so acute.

Only one of the ghouls seemed to be unhappy with his surroundings, a wide, scarred male whose name was Grik.

“Where to make burrow?” he complained. “Stone very hard, much work to dig”

Krrsh slapped him in the back of the head. “Burrow for what?”

“Burrow for Burning Eye, pack leader!” to which Krrsh silently pointed a claw towards the domed ceiling. Grik followed his leader’s finger with his eyes.

“Oh. Ohhh,” Grik finally exclaimed. Then, after a moment, “Still like sand. Sand soft. Sand warm. Yes.”

Slightly exasperated, Anomus created a basket of wooden slats in front of the annoying creature, who stared at it as it formed, mouth agape.

“Grik can go and collect as much sand as he likes.”