Rise of the Evening Star

A deep roar came echoing out of the mist. To the hut,

Coulter murmured, wiping the knife clean before stowing it.

He tossed the rag that he had used to wipe the knife near the buffalo.

The symmetry of the glass dome was broken only by a small hatch in one side, also made of glass and framed in steel. Coulter opened the hatch and crawled in after Seth.

The hut had no floor-just the bare earth. Hugo waited outside.

We’re safe in here? Seth asked.

As long as we don’t break the glass from the inside, no creature can get us, even a fog giant in a blood frenzy.

Blood frenzy?

You’ll see, Coulter assured him. Fog giants go mad around blood. Worse than sharks. This tribute is the price we agreed to pay for information Burlox gave us about the marshland. After the tribute, he has promised us one more piece of information.

Burlox is the giant?

The most approachable of them, yes.

What if the wrong giant takes the buffalo?

Coulter shook his head. Fog giants are highly territorial.

Another would not encroach on Burlox’s domain. Their borders are clearly defined.

Despite the condensation on the glass and the intervening mist, Seth had a good view of the buffalo. It was grazing.

I feel bad for the buffalo, Seth said.186 Like most livestock, it was born to be slaughtered,Coulter said. If not by a fog giant, by your grandfather. The anesthetic will dull its senses. The fog giant will administer a quick death.

Seth frowned, staring through the glass. What had sounded like fun back at the house was no longer very appealing, now that he recognized the buffalo as an actual living thing. I guess I eat hamburgers all the time, he finally said.

This isn’t much different, Coulter agreed. Somewhat more dramatic.

What about the rules of the treaty? Seth asked. Won’t you get in trouble for killing the buffalo?

I won’t be doing any killing; that will be the giant,

Coulter explained. Besides, the rules are different for animals. The treaty was meant to keep sentient beings from committing murder and casting spells on each other. The same protection does not extend to animals of a lower order of intelligence. When the need arises, we can slaughter animals for food with no repercussions.

Another roar sounded, much closer and more intense. A

gargantuan shadow loomed beyond the buffalo. Here he comes, Coulter breathed.

Seth’s mouth went dry. As the fog giant emerged from the mist, Seth found himself scooting back to the far side of the small dome. Burlox was enormous. Seth was not much taller than his knee. Hugo was shorter than his hip. The buffalo suddenly looked like a house pet.

The fog giant had the proportions of a heavyset man. He187 wore tattered, matted furs, and his body was smeared withoily muck. Beneath the filth, his skin was a sickly bluish gray. His long hair and beard were tangled in slime. In one hand he bore a crude, heavy club. The overall impression was that of a fierce, battle-weary Viking who had lost his way in a swamp.

The giant stopped near the buffalo. He turned and looked toward the dome, giving a single nod and leering.

Seth was acutely aware that a single swing of the huge club could bash the hut to smithereens. Burlox tossed the club aside and then pounced at the buffalo, tearing off the bridle and hoisting the flustered animal into the air.

Seth looked away. It was too much. He heard a noisy combination of bones crunching and flesh tearing before clamping his hands over his ears. Part of him wanted to watch, but instead he kept his head down and his ears covered.

You’re missing it, Coulter eventually said, kneeling at his side.

Seth peeked. The buffalo no longer looked much like a buffalo. Sections of the hide had been cast aside, and jutting bones were visible. Seth tried to pretend that the leg Burlox was mauling was a gigantic spare rib, and that the feasting giant was drenched in barbecue sauce.

Not something you get to see every day, Coulter said.

True, Seth conceded.

Look at him, munching away-he can’t eat it fast enough. He rarely gets meat of this quality. He ought to slow down and savor it. But the brute can’t help himself.188It’s pretty disgusting.Just one beast consuming the meat of another, Coulter said. Although I’ll admit I glanced away at the start myself.

It was sadder than I expected.

Look at him going after the marrow. He doesn’t want to waste a thing.

I can’t imagine eating something raw like that, Seth said.

He can’t imagine cooking it, Coulter replied.

They watched as the giant picked the bones clean and sucked them dry. Here it comes, Coulter said, rubbing his hands. You’d think he’d be satisfied, but no matter how much fresh meat you give them, it just whets their appetite.

The fog giant began rooting around on the ground, apparently lapping up what he could from the mud. Soon his face was masked with sludge, and limp vegetation dangled from his lips. He began hammering his mighty fists against the soggy turf and throwing fragments of bone into the mist. He tossed back his head and let out a long, angry cry.

He’s going berserk, Seth said.

The fog giant wheeled toward the dome, scowling. He picked up his club and charged, eyes ablaze. Seth felt totally exposed. With glass on all sides, held together by narrow strips of metal, it felt worse than no cover whatsoever. One swing of the club and the dome would explode toward him like a thousand daggers. He recoiled and raised his arms to shield his face from flying glass. Coulter sat calmly beside him, as if watching a movie.

Racing at full speed, the giant lifted the club high above189 his head and brought it down with terrible force. Just beforethe club connected with the surface of the dome, it rebounded sharply, making an unnatural pinging sound, and sailed out of the giant’s grasp. Burlox’s forward momentum instantly reversed, and the giant pitched violently backwards.

Shaken and seething, the fog giant arose and staggered away from the dome. As a hulking silhouette in the mist,

Burlox began brutalizing a tree. He tore down huge limbs, and was soon pounding his fists against the sturdy trunk.

Groaning and growling, he seized the trunk in a terrible embrace, twisting and wrenching and wrestling until the bole began to split. With a final mighty heave accompanied by a tremendous crack, he toppled the entire tree and knelt panting, hands on his knees.

Incredible strength, Coulter commented. He should be cooling down by now.

Sure enough, after a few moments, the giant trudged over and retrieved his club. Then he came and stood towering over the dome. Much of the mud had fallen from his face. After the food and the exertion, his complexion was ruddier. More, he demanded, pointing at his mouth.

We agreed on a single buffalo, Coulter called to him.

Burlox grimaced, revealing weeds and bark and fur in his teeth. He stamped a massive foot. More! It came across as a roar rather than a word.