As if the egg were pulling him, Chagum headed straight for the spring. He moved out of the forest down to the river beach and kept on walking as fast as his body would allow. The sun rose and its strong rays beat steadily on the back of his neck, but he did not even feel the summer heat. When the river had dwindled to little more than a stream and he was almost in sight of the spring, he stopped abruptly.
The world around him, which had been nothing more than a vague dream, came sharply into focus; his body, sensing mortal danger, yanked him out of the dream of Nyunga Ro Im, and he broke into a sweat, the cold slimy sweat of fear. Through the pleasant scene of the river beach in Sagu, he saw before him in Nayugu a huge sea of mud, as if all the water in an enormous lake had dried up, leaving the muddy bottom exposed in all directions. One small patch of grass perched like a floating island in the middle — the river’s source in the land of Sagu. At its center, he could see a large black hole, with the invisible energy of the earth rising out of it. Chagum knew instinctively that this energy was the very thing the egg needed to complete its growth.
But he could smell only death — the stench of Rarunga, the Egg Eater — and he began to tremble with fear. His stomach tightened and his heart pounded wildly in his chest. His foot jerked. He shuddered and froze, trying to stop it from moving. The egg was urging his body forward, pushing him on, but he reeked of shigu salua. If he set one foot out of the water on that sea of mud, Rarunga was sure to smell it and come after him — to rive his body with its enormous claws and eat the egg!
NO! I don’t want to die! But his foot inched forward. Shaking, he fought with all his might to pull it back, but like a baby about to be born, bathed in its mother’s blood, the egg was already straining toward life, desperate to outstrip death in its race against time. Chagum could not hope to suppress that primal urge. The egg seemed to burn within him, and again, he felt his foot dragged slowly forward.
Responding to the terror that gripped the cloud spirit and Chagum, a white mist began to rise slowly above the surface of the river. The water became thick as syrup and gave off a faint metallic odor — the scent of their fear. Chagum’s foot began to move again, and this time he could not stop it. Like a fish seeking air, he raised his head and screamed: “Balsa!”
“It’s just a little farther to Sahnan,” Tanda muttered, then stopped abruptly.
Balsa looked back at him. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.
“Shh!” Tanda crouched down beside the Aoyumi River, putting his face so close to the water he almost touched it. He had heard the call of the Yona Ro Gai, the Water Dwellers of Nayugu. Chanting a spell, he opened his eyes to that other world —
— and gasped in surprise. He was floating on the surface of a great winding river. The riverbank rose in the direction of Sahnan, but beyond that, he realized with shock, there was only a great sea of mud ringed by mountains — the Egg Eater’s nest! And Chagum must pass through it for the egg to be born….
Tanda saw several strange creatures swimming toward him — the Yona Ro Gai. “Young To Ro Gai, Land Dweller of Sagu.” Tanda struggled to breathe as he listened. “To Ro Gai the Elder sends you this message. ‘Do not just make torches. Drench them in oil to make a fire that cannot be quenched by water, and fight Rarunga. Take the egg and thro —’ ”
But Tanda could stand it no more. He drew in a deep, whistling breath and collapsed face up on the ground in Sagu.
“Tanda! What’s going on?” Balsa cried. She helped him to a sitting position.
Through a fit of coughing, he said, “Torogai sent us a message through the Yona Ro Gai. She said, don’t just make torches. Drench them in oil so they can’t be quenched by water … We don’t have time! We’ve got to hurry and pour oil inside the torches.” Tanda fixed his eyes on Balsa. “In Nayugu, Sahnan is a sea of mud.”
At that moment, they heard a faint scream. Balsa jumped to her feet and set off at a run.
“Balsa! Wait! Are you planning to fight Rarunga without a torch?” Tanda shouted, but she had already vaulted over the rocks and disappeared toward the spring. He frantically stopped the Hunters who had started after her. “Wait! Don’t go yet! We’ve got to ready the torches first. I’m sure Balsa will buy us enough time for that.”
Balsa raced into the river mist — the same mist she had seen before. The dense white fog limited her vision, but she could still make out a small shape running ahead of her: Chagum. She had almost caught up with him at last.
But suddenly she felt a deadly malice course through her body, oozing through the ground under her feet just as it had before. Right as Chagum neared the spring, huge claws ripped their way through the earth, surrounding him on every side.
I’ll never make it in time! Balsa clenched her teeth.
And yet the claws moved ever so slowly, as if they were cutting through rock. The egg … It changed the water from the spring! When she realized this, Balsa jumped onto the river; it was firmer than ice, a road glowing with a pale blue light, and she raced forward as fast as she could. But the claws could still break through it, and with loud cracking noises, they closed slowly, inexorably, upon the frozen Chagum.
But Chagum was no longer scared. Although he could see the terrible Rarunga, he was looking at Nayugu, at the floating island beneath his feet. While his calm was partly due to the egg’s desire to be born, it mostly came from Chagum himself, his deep internal will to survive.
He felt the egg inside him begin to move, rising from his chest to his throat, his throat to his mouth. Before him lay the hole, a deep, deep pit from which the earth’s breath rose. Instinctively, Chagum crouched down on all fours, looking down into Sahnan, urged by the egg into the position that would allow it to be born in Nayugu.
Whoosh! A warm, moist gust of energy wafted upward. This was where the sacred life force of Sagu and Nayugu merged together and rose to the heavens. Exposed to such concentrated energy, the egg completed its final stage of growth, its shell hardening to protect it in both worlds. Hurry! Hurry! Hurry! Chagum thought, and as if it were responding to his urgency, the egg slipped into his mouth.
At that very moment Balsa reached his side. Rarunga’s claws cast their long, sharp shadows over them; there was no time to think. She bent over Chagum, wrapped her left arm around his body, and tried to pick him up. He kicked out and twisted frantically in her arms, fighting to stay near Sahnan. While they struggled, Rarunga’s claws closed tighter, until Balsa realized their opening was gone. Filled with a premonition of death, she hugged Chagum tightly, feeling the warmth of his body against her.
Chagum opened his mouth — and as he did so, the invisible egg dropped from his mouth into the world of Nayugu. Instantly, Rarunga vanished from Sagu to find the egg in that other world. Down the egg fell, deep into the hole of Nayugu. Then, as if the earth had exhaled suddenly, a blast of energy rushed up from the bottom, caught the egg, and carried it, revolving and dancing, up into the sky. Rarunga’s tentacles reached out to grab it, but just before they touched it, the egg left Nayugu.
Balsa had no idea what was going on, but she did not waste the precious time afforded by the monster’s disappearance. She tightened her hold on Chagum and picked him up. A blue light appeared in front of her at the very instant she sensed Rarunga’s return. As Chagum grasped the egg, which danced in the light of the energy from the hole, Balsa leapt into the air and Rarunga erupted from the ground beneath her. Still carrying Chagum, who now clutched the egg, Balsa shot between the claws that surrounded them like a cage. Tentacles whipped after them, chasing the elusive egg.