8. Who Isn't Strong

Step one, no two, one and a half, zero, next step, flee, can’t take a step anymore—Magim had lost the ability to think. Higgis hung above him, opening his jaws, showing the weird triangular teeth that should have been Magim’s first clue long ago. When he still couldn’t imagine that an animal would eat another animal.

Now he could imagine.

That should not be his final thought! Final thought. I thought we were immortal thanks to the gods, as long as you didn’t do anything crazy. Now he didn’t know what to do. Pray to the godchildren? Pray they would, magically, appear next to him to stop Higgis? Even if they never ventured to this side of the Nightriver? He had nobody else in his life, and nothing else to do, so what was a last thought supposed to be?

Magim had closed his eyes. Higgis’ heavy body pinned him down. He’d rather die due that illness than those teeth.

His hot, smelly breath blew across his entire face.

But the bite didn’t come.

His sick front paws only felt sniffing, a rough snout that pushed against it and then left. Could it be true? he thought with a sliver of hope. I’m too sick to eat?

Higgis roared and kicked the floor. “Why you kind to me?”

Magim was caught by surprise. He had to repeat the sentence five times before understanding. He wanted to say: I am always kind. But that wasn’t true. Could a Fleshfeaster smell lies?

“Needed you.”

A long silence.

“Me you too,” Higgis said. His eyes were still wild and his wet tongue lolled between his jaws. Magim remained a snack in his eyes. And his stomach, which hadn’t eaten meat in days.

“Then don’t eat me!” he yelled. “Eat plants!”

“Can’t eat plants!” Higgis sought a plant for demonstration, but none were left. “Is play! Chew, chew, chew, then spit out.”

He had no choice. He had to eat meat, or he died, after months of terrible hunger. Magim couldn’t even stand being hungry for a day.

Did that make it right? Magim didn’t know. He just wished it wasn’t him.

He didn’t dare look in Higgis’ eyes. Their surroundings were silent and abandoned. Calling for help would be useless. They’d hear and say “well that’s just their bad luck”. How could you ever feel safe like that?

Safety. He’d always had it and paid it no mind. Now he’d give anything to get it back.

“Work together,” he and Higgis said simultaneously.

Higgis thought he was looking at Magim, but he actually looked past him. “Eyes too bad to hunt for meat. So I play stupid. Plant eaters let me close and then …”

“You want me to help you fool other plant eaters? You’re such a—” Magim pushed his long mouth into the swamp floor to prevent saying anything more.

“No.” His tongue licked his lips. His mouth watered, some of it drooling onto Magim’s head. “Other plan. You saw Fleshfeasters size. I am snack to them! Don’t like. Also saw how Leader can touch and magically change us!”

He jumped on top of Magim and pushed him into the dirt at full force. “I go mad! I want food! I want eat you! I must eat you! Let me … let me eat your front paw.”

Magim froze until Higgis explained. “I can eat away sick skin. I eat, you healthy.”

If someone had asked days ago, Magim would have given anything to lose the infection. But giving a Fleshfeaster permission to eat a part of you was not part of that. Magim’s mind raced as much as his body was rendered immobile.

Trust? Don’t trust? First step working together is working together. Higgis is Fleshfeaster! Trust? Don’t trust? First step—

“Yes.”

He spoke too softly for Higgis to hear.

“Only sick skin.”

Higgis nodded. Magim prepared for the dumbest decision of the century. Eeris would tell legends of the stupid bearded dragon who willingly threw himself at meat eater teeth. As a warning to the others, like the warning about staying away from water to all young bearded dragons.

And warnings they needed, because too many animals would still not distrust Higgis.

A sharp teeth cut into his skin. It stung. Higgis growled with satisfaction, pressing on, cutting deeper.

But stopping himself. With a terrifying head jerk, he ripped the skin free. Magim yelled from the sudden flash of pain.

When he looked down, his paw was still there. Injured, covered in wounds and blood, but alive and without infection. Though he still felt sick, his mouth dry and no energy left.

Higgis turned away instantly. He couldn’t see Magim while eating it. As if that would drive him insane and make him do something stupid—even though surviving and eating isn’t stupid.

The lizard and bearded dragon kept each other’s company in silence. Could this cooperation actually work?

The silence was only broken by hundreds of soft steps coming their way. That group of strong animals, fleeing from Fleshfeasters for centuries now, had escaped and circled back.

“You survive! You surrounded by ten Fleshfeasters and survive!”

“Thought you dead!”

“Almost forget you!”

They waved at Magim. Other bearded dragons rapidly blew their beards to full size, and he subconsciously returned the gesture. The night was now at its darkest and they could barely see each other’s eyes. Still they managed to stay at a safe distance from Higgis, who now devoured the last bit of meat with satisfied hums.

“What an idea! Playing dead! Have more ideas? Tell!”

“Well, yes—”

“Fleshfeasters!”

It never stopped. Would this be his life now? Just running and being afraid? Indeed, the next group of animals—bigger and stronger than them—already ran at them in a straight line.

Now he understood Higgis’ words: to them even Higgis would just be a snack. Like he … like he viewed insects. No real animals. You were allowed to crush or eat them, right?

The realization grew. Magim had eaten insects, or accidentally swallowed them, his entire life. He hadn’t thought about it once. For insects were no intelligent animals like him, right? They had no face, no speech, no feelings. But really … he had been a Fleshfeaster all along.

Almost everyone was a Fleshfeaster.

Those big beasts saw them as tiny insects, without a doubt, crushing or eating them at will.

“We cross the Nightriver tonight,” Magim said with confidence. “Step one: find a tall tree along the river. Knock it down.”

Part of the group ran away.

“Step two: find large stones and throw them in the river, like making a path. Like Gray Path instead of Green Path.”

Most animals barely understood him, except his own kind, the bearded dragons. They were able to translate many parts, though, after traveling together with the other species for centuries.

Magim recognized the first Fleshfeaster of the pack. She was there when the Leader magically converted some of them. She seemed converted ten times, judging by her size! And now she had almost reached them.

“Step three: RUN!”

The entire group slithered across the soggy land as if they were one lizard. Higgis pounded and battered his way through the same space. He used his teeth to pick up animals left and right, to carry them on his back. But he ran the wrong way—like always.

“Higgis! Here!”

He heard him. But he didn’t turn around, because Higgis apparently knew exactly what he did. He ran to the back of the group. To the animals who were too slow, who were about to be eaten, who were just “unlucky”. And he carried them too.

The group split into tree searchers, stone searchers and spike searchers. The final group had to find sharp objects to help defend themselves. It was also by far the smallest group: mostly the rare animals who had spikes of their own. The others barely believed a sharp branch, or a thorny plant, would matter at all against a large bloodthirsty lizard.

Magim thought they were right—and also didn’t think big enough. The Nightriver appeared at the horizon and he asked for twenty bearded dragons with the largest beard, and a pile of sharp stones.