Okay, I'll admit it. I stretched the writing of this chapter out, so as to prolong the cliffhanger and tourture you all longer. Sorry, but it was just too good a cliffhanger to let go to waste by posting this chapter after just two days. I had to let the dramatic tension build up.

Taking my time was good also because it gave me a chance to get my writing pretty much where I wanted it. In retrospect, I'm glad I did. So... go ahead and read. Or don't. You've already clicked on the page, so it counts as a "hit" under Reader Traffic whether you read on or not.

I was saved by luck, pure luck. As the giant spinner's fangs closed on my neck and began to pump their deadly poison into me, I chose the moment to spasm with fear, dislodging the fangs and momentarily freeing myself. The spinner strummed in annoyance and snapped his great mandibles shut on my neck again, but the slight delay had given me enough time to leap back several feet, and the mandibles buried themselves vainly in the bridge.

I heaved myself to my feet, readying myself for the next attack. I was turning my head wildly, sensing for attackers, when the small dose of venom that I had received hit me with its full force. My head began to swim as the world reeled around me, scents coming from all directions at once, my echolocation image distorted and surreal. I could feel the drops of venom burning as they worked their way from my neck, through my veins, down to my heart, and then out to each of my limbs and the tip of my tail.

As if from far away, I could vaguely sense the horde of spinners again converging on my fallen body. They were squabbling, I think, arguing about which one would get to drink me. I lay there dazed, eyes glazed over, forgetting how to move my limbs, or why for some reason I felt the urge to get moving, to move, move, move now!

With a massive effort, I rolled over onto my side. The spinners, of course, saw that I was not at all dead, and their argument ceased as if a switch had been pulled. The pack was leaning in toward me… I could see them moving in slow motion…

Summoning every last reserve of strength, I rolled over again, and tumbled right off the bridge. I could feel myself falling, tearing through webs in my descent, not even having the chance to right myself before I smashed solidly into the ground.

The pain shot through me, rousing me to partial consciousness. I knew I had to move, to leave. I was in no condition to fight. I would have to find some hole to hide in, someplace where I could whether the battle. Unless the injection of venom killed me first. It was a vain hope, all right. But it was all the hope I had.

Legs trembling, I got to all fours. Even this small effort threatened to knock me out. The world wavered around me, and I grasped consciousness by a thread. The bruises that covered my body from falling screamed with needle-sharp pain. As best as I could tell, nothing was broken, luckily. The last thing I needed right now was an energy-sapping fracture.

A rushing around me alerted me to the approach of the pack of spinners. My weak echolocation at first registered them only as blurs, but as they came closer their outlines became more defined. Yes, there at the front were the large spinner and its smaller counterpart. I was aware of the triumphant clicks and strums as they surrounded me. The strums sounded like claws on slate, and I hunched into a ball.

I could feel myself being lifted, and felt a tickle. Nothing to worry about. The spinners were wrapping me up in their warm, cozy webs. They would soon take me off to where my siblings were laying, and perhaps Mother would sing us a little song as we drifted off to sleep…

Mother! A rush of adrenaline shot through me. I came to life, thrashing in the spinners' grip. My back claws were shredding the threads that were binding me, flailing, cutting through web and spinner and air. My tail was wildly whipping, knocking spinners flying and skittering across the cave. One spinner's mandibles closed on my tail, but before they could sever it I pulled the tail free, skinning the length of it. After that, blood splattered whenever I moved my tail.

The spinners surrounded me, trying to pin me down, but I was thrashing too wildly. I was afraid, so deeply afraid of what would happen if the spinners got to me. I would die. My consciousness would be drained, and all I'd ever known and loved would be gone. I would be a sack of lifeless flesh, and not even that after the spinners drank me. I couldn't let myself die! I couldn't!

I gave a roar of rage, lined with fear. The spinners hesitated, their iron grip slackening somewhat. Not wasting a second, I seized the moment to slash wildly with my claws. I knocked over a spinner, and another. And I was on my feet, forcing a path through the tight crowd, pushing my way to freedom!

The spinners followed, hurrying to catch up. I sliced at an oncoming foe, and it fell to the ground, either dead or badly injured. One down, but there were so many more, such vast, endless numbers…

I could feel my rager state coming on, fragmented and shaky but still laced with its deadly force. Roaring, I leapt at the spinner crowd. Several died instantly, but that was not enough… never enough…

Occasionally, flashes of the battle around me registered with my brain. There seemed to be fewer spinners and more gnawers than when the battle had begun. The rats seemed oblivious to my distress. Occasionally one would assault the crowd of spinners, killing a few and distracting them enough to give me a temporary advantage, but as a whole the gnawer army seemed fine with me taking on a whole horde. Couldn't anyone see that I was floundering, slowly being forced back? That even if I was not overwhelmed soon, the venom would take me?

Always during that timeless fight, the venom eating away at my innards, slowly sapping my reserves of strength. I was dying a lot slower than I would have if the spinner had pumped a full dose of venom into me, but I was dying nevertheless. It ate at my edges, like a firew that had not properly caught but instead blackened and smoldered before bursting into full flame. It attacked me almost like a living creature, replacing my blood with liquid fire. My body was putting up its defense, a microcosm of the larger battle raging outside, but the venom was slowly gaining ground, taking control. I was dying... dying… pain… the world shattering around me…

Forced against a wall… fighting cornered… a spinner cutting through my meager defenses, darting forward and taking a chunk out of my stomach… blood everywhere… blood… pain… screaming at the spinners, a loud, high-pitched scream… why were they doing this? Why were they fighting me? It was insane. There could be no motive for it. There had been a motive… long ago… in the heat of battle, I tried to recall it, but the venom had entered my brain, and my memories were swirling in disarray.

It registered in the depths of my brain that I would soon be dead. The venom was killing me. I couldn't fight any longer. I was at the end of my rope. I would have to rest, not here on the battlefield in the midst of the endless chaos, but somewhere else. Somewhere safe, some tucked-away niche where the spinners couldn't get at me. I could wait out the battle there, wait for some gnawer to find me. I would be safe. I would still have the venom to deal with, but it would do its cruel job more slowly if I could rest.

A vision of the crystal cavern, the one which we'd attacked from, swam into my head. The cavern was peaceful, quiet, tucked away from the battle. If I could somehow get there… wait until the battle was over and hope that someone found me… It was my last, desperate hope.

It registered that the spinner attack directed at me was lessening. I got a faint impression of a small party of soldiers cutting into the pack of spinners from their left flank. The spinners had turned to deal with them, momentarily forgetting me.

I saw an opening and bounded away, stumbled and fell, scrambled to my feet again. Then I was scurrying through the battlefield, passing hordes of gnawers and spinners ruthlessly murdering each other, unable to tell, in my befuddled state, which way the battle was turning… I kept close to the ground, flattening myself out as much as possible as I slunk along so as to make myself harder to echolocate. Several times I was nearly trampled by the packs of battling creatures. I had no idea where I was, how far I was from the crystal cave. I just kept going, blindly feeling my way through the fray, dodging the threads that came sailing toward me. I could feel myself scattering globs of half-congealed blood everywhere. Only a little farther, I told myself. Only a little farther and you can rest. You can rest forever and ever if you want. Just keep going.

I was dragging myself now, using all of my strength and will to keep going. The venom was working harder than ever at dissolving me. Had a spinner stumbled upon me, they probably would have been able to drink me as I was, without liquidizing me. I doubted I was even recognizable as a rat now.

A wall loomed up before me. One of the cavern walls. It could have been any one. By now, my sense of direction was so muddled that I could have been at the Waterway without knowing it. The wall… dead end… no going back…

Farther off to the right, I registered static. A blank space of nothing where there should have been wall… an opening… an opening! I was off again, squelching like a slimer, wriggling like a twister, putting every bit of my soul into movement. And I was moving, inch by inch, claws scraping the stone, slower than a glacier… and I had reached the safety of the tunnel, walls arching above me, the sounds of the battle comfortably behind me instead of all around.

I made it maybe ten yards down the tunnel before collapsing in an exhausted heap. I was done. I had used my last vestige of strength. The smoldering venom was finally bursting into flame inside me. I was dying now, but even that seemed surreal. My brain was ineffective. I lay motionless, slumped on the floor. Had someone poured a bucket of water on me then, I probably would have spread out in a puddle.

I could sense the battle behind me. The roars and strums, the scent of blood hanging like fog heavily in the air, on and on, endless minute after endless minute… and finally, although the taint of blood remained as strong as ever, the noise that was reaching my weak ears began to subside. I was fading fast now. My hearing was dissipating, and if someone didn't find me, I would surely expire soon.

The movement behind me seemed to be lessening, too. Instead of the wild frenzy of battle, I sensed a slower, calmer progress. Both sides seemed to be retreating, falling back. It was nothing. A slight lull in the battle, no more. Soon, the flurrying flickers of war would start up again, whipping the battlefield into mulch, and for what? Nothing… nothing… for the first time, I saw how useless, how ineffective the battle was.

Yes, it had definitely quieted down back there. The battle had ceased, although for what reason I could not guess, and why it had not started up again at once puzzled me.

I heard movement behind me. Not the light, traipsing tap of spinner feet. Something heavier. Some larger, more fearsome enemy. They were growing ever nearer. I could smell them as they circled around me, their forms looming, three… rats. Yes. They were rats, setting up a babble of talking as they surveyed my defenseless body, obviously readying themselves for the kill. I knew I had to fight them, but my head was swimming, and the very thought of movement drove me even closer to death.

I was being picked up and carried, supported by alien paws, their very touch prickling me with irritation. I wanted to fight, to force the rats to disperse, but my limbs were ineffectual. I was paralyzed. I could not so much as raise a claw, lift a leg. I was at the mercy of these rats.

They carried me through the tunnels at a brisk pace. I felt myself jiggling up and down with each step. Each jiggle reminded me of how I was helpless, how my efforts were futile. They would eat me soon, and there was nothing I could do.

We emerged into a larger place, filled with more gnawers, dozens of them, form upon looming form. As they entered, carrying my prostrate body between them, the gnawers rushed forward with gleeful cries. I could hear them jabber meaninglessly as they eagerly crowded around me.

"He's a hero!"

"Unbelievable!"

"Even when that spinner got him, he didn't stop fighting!"

Their words meant nothing to me. I just wanted them all to go away and leave me alone. Why wouldn't they go away? Why was one pushing forward through the crowd, leaning over me?

I locked eyes with the new one. His face triggered vague memories of familiarity in me. He was shouting, calling out angrily for something.

And then I lost all hold, and tumbled backwards into myself.

…

Time… dream… floating on soft, heavenly currents… immeasurable time without thought… water poured into my mouth from an unidentifiable source above me… trickling down my muzzle… more thoughtless dreaming… until the pain hit.

Excruciating, wrenching pain, as if I was being torn apart limb by limb, pain that a thousand bodies and a thousand years could not contain. Pain that shook me of its own accord, jarring my teeth and squeezing my eyeballs in their sockets. Even to think was painful, as if my brain was a sieve through which the thoughts were forcing their way. The pain extended for an eternity, taking up my every reserve, driving me to the brink of madness, until I was plunged deep into the swirling portents of darkness that were my mind.

I was floating through the darkness, searching for something I had lost-a name, perhaps?-and sensing changes. Things were happening, but whether they were inside me or out I could not be sure. It seemed to make no difference anymore. There was something being fed to me. It was soft and mushy, mixed with water. Mashed-up fish meat…

I could dimly hear voices mumbling all around. Father, telling me I as a rager, Rendflesh, sneering at me for being a rager, Cleaver's mother, holding me down with her paw as she chastised my own mother. Sometimes I could vaguely sense beings all around me, feeding me more fish mash, asking how I was, worrying about me and my condition. Coilthroat, Mother, Flayclaw, Rendflesh, Father. No, not Father. Wasn't he dead or something? Upon my refusal to accept him, Father obediently disappeared, and was replaced by Bloodsheen, Cleaver, and Smiter…

I sat bolt upright. Smiter! That was the name I'd been searching for. He was the one who'd leaned over me, right before I'd lost consciousness. Smiter! I called out his name, and it echoed around the tiny cave I was in. I immediately recognized it as my own nest, by the lake. Somehow, after the murderous band of rats had kidnapped me from the battlefield, I'd ended up back here.

No, they hadn't been a murderous band of rats at all. I realized now that they had been ordinary soldiers. I would hardly be here otherwise. A delusion… so what else had been delusionary recently?

"Hush, now, Ripred," came a voice from nearby, the voice of the matronly old female that I sensed sometimes as she fed me the fish mash.

"Wait," I slurred. "The battle… I need to get back…" I shifted weakly, and howled with fresh agony.

"Settle down, Ripred," came the rat's voice again. "Lay still and rest." Since I could hardly do anything else, I rolled over and slipped back into myself.

Over the next few days, the dream state slowly fell away. As consciousness returned, so did the pain. Much of my fur had fallen out in patches, and my teeth were several inches longer than normal due to the lack of gnawing. The wound in my stomach and my bruises from hitting the stone flared up whenever I moved, and my scabby tail prickled continuously. The place where the spinner had pierced my neck, however, was the worst. I was forced to keep my head completely still, not moving it by a degree, or a throbbing agony would fill me, driving me back into myself each time.

Once when I woke up, Smiter was at my side. He'd received a few wounds in the battle, but he did not look seriously hurt. I felt an immediate flash of envy.

I opened my mouth, struggling to move my muscles in a way such as to create words. "How long… I been out?" I finally mumbled.

"Quite a while," said Smiter calmly. "Several days. You went temporarily insane for a spell, yelling out unintelligible things, but you seem to be recovering. You're lucky the search-and-rescue team they sent for you found you when they did. You almost died on the way back. Would have, if that foolLacktalon had had his way."

"The war," I said. "How does it go?"

"It's over," said Smiter happily. "And I suppose we really ought to thank you for that."

"What?!"

"Didn't you see what you were doing? You killed hundreds of spinners. You were like a small army in and of yourself. The ground was covered with mounds of your kills. Oh, there were other factors, but you were the one that really helped to turn the tide of the battle. The spinners surrendered, and right now we're writing up a treaty."

"Treaty?" I asked. "But…" If we had really gone through all that just for there to be a treaty in the end, the entire war suddenly seemed futile. We could have arranged for a treaty without the war. Couldn't we?

"Yes, I suppose it doesmake the fighting seem a little useless," agreed Smiter. "But we still had to. If we hadn't, there still might have been a treaty, but it wouldn't have been in our favor, and the spinners might have broken it later on. We had to make them take us seriously."

I had to agree, but still… all the lives. Was all of it really necessary? And what if we had lost?

"Don't worry," said Smiter, sensing the conflicting emotions in me. "It could have been a whole lot worse, and now you're a hero."

"How exactly…" I trailed off, unable to finish.

"At the battle," said Smiter. "Even after the spinner poisoned you, you kept fighting. They're telling tales about you now in the tunnels, about how you refused to give up and singlehandedly beat back the spinner armies. Nobody will dare ignore you now."

"Even Rendflesh?"

"Well, of course Rendflesh couldn't be sated. He's been going around saying that you were careless to have been bitten by the spinner, that there's no point in having a rager around if he's dependent on other soldiers to save him, that you didn't even lead the regiment properly. But nobody's listening to him. Believe me, Ripred. Nobody's more widely renowned than you now."