[Danny]

well, it's very wide and not very tall, so it doesn't have much pressure on the ground [that ground-hugging shape is why it's called a Crawler, by the way...]

CHAPTER 52

The Crowd was huge. When they’d passed through the village in the trees the day before, it hadn’t seemed large enough to house this many people, and yet here they were, waiting expectantly for some information about the newcomers. Twitching the curtain nervously, Rettick mentally steeled himself. If this goes wrong, he thought, then we may well end up dead, or at least prisoners. He hoped to Odd that Mildar knew what he was doing.

He turned to look back at the others in the Hut. Volt was pacing the floor impatiently, or trying to, except that he had two less limbs than he usually had when he paced impatiently, so he fell down a lot. Mebek and Mildar were having an animated discussion that Rett couldn’t quite catch. Mildar was holding his homing beacon, and frowning. Periodically he would hit the side of the beacon, then shake it, and hold it up to his ear, his brows knotting in frustration.

“What’s wrong?”

Mildar looked up at Rettick. “Damn thing doesn’t seem to be working. I think it must have been damaged somehow. I think I can get it working, but it’ll take a minute.”
Mebek sighed. “I’d better go out and talk to them.” As he strode worriedly out, he snagged Rett’s elbow, pulling him along.

“Hey, what ya doing?”

“You’ll have to speak to them as well, as one of the ‘Shrykull’’s servants, and Volt can’t go out without pants, or we’ll have to explain that as well. It’ll be easy.” And with that, he pulled Rettick out onto the wide branch outside his hut.

As they emerged, a murmuring rose up in the crowd, and then fell silent at Mebek’s gestures. Clearing his throat, Mebek spoke out across the crowd in a loud, clear voice. His Chirps and Warblings silenced even the most impatient and noisy villagers, and even Rettick, who couldn’t understand the language, felt moved by the sounds. Mebek seemed able to comfort and arouse interest at once, and this language had a rhythm and melody that Rettick’s own lacked. Rettick’s worries seemed to evapourate, and he realised that, when it came to his turn to speak to the crowd, it didn’t really matter if he made a faux pas, because everything he said would have to be translated by Mebek. The melodic language flowed through him like a wave of calm flowed over his mind, soothing away the little wrinkles of worry, and relaxing the tension from his body, so much that he barely noticed when Mebek stopped talking and turned to him.

“Your turn.”

Rettick stood up straight again. “What have you said to them?”

“Just that the Shrykull has finally returned to rid them of the Grilken, and that you are its loyal servants.”

Rettick looked out uneasily, his anxiety returning. “What should I say?”

“Just introduce yourself, really, and tell them you want several of their number to accompany you on your quest. Oh, and at the end, resent the Shrykull to them.”

“Present it? How?”

“That’s up to your Vykker friend. Now hurry up, they’re getting impatient.” He stepped to the side, giving Rettick centre stage.

Rettick swallowed. The sense of anticipation in the air above the mass of villagers was palpable. Clearing his throat, Rettick opened his mouth. “Friends…”

Cheers arose from the crowd at his first words, drowning out everything he said after that point, but the villagers didn’t care. Their god had returned to rid them of a hated enemy, and its Acolyte was speaking to them. To Them. The sense of anticipation had been replaced by an immense collective rejoicing. Their arms waved in the dappled light that emerged from between the leaves above their heads. In places, a single shaft of light shone down on a certain mudokon or group of mudokons, and Rettick could see the expressions of sheer joy on their faces. Rettick realised that they’d been waiting for this moment for centuries, and felt a rush of pride that he was the focus of their rejoicing. This pride was short-lived, however, as he felt a pang of guilt at what they were doing to these people. These people believed that their salvation was at hand, when in reality Rettick was just an ordinary slig, and he and Volt and Mildar were most likely about to die, and the forest would be destroyed, these villagers along with it.

The guilt became Determination. We can’t let them down, he thought, We are going to end their troubles, and the Deforestation will end. It has to… Glancing at Mebek, he mouthed ‘Quiet them down!’ Mebek chirped out above the noise, silencing the cheers. Swallowing, Rettick opened his mouth once more. “And now, we bring to you your Saviour: The Shrykull!” Not knowing which way to turn to present it, he went down on his knees, as the crowd cheered, hoping to gods Mildar had got the Homing Beacon working…