Malduanan tried to flatten itself, but the joint with the sword sticking into it was jammed partway open. The creature's body stuck at an angle to the ground, wedged by a limb that could neither fold nor help support the creature.
Dennis rolled sideways and jerked his point free. Malduanan's damaged leg flopped loose below the wound, but the upper limb pivoted in its ball-and-socket joint with the body, as though it still carried weight. The youth curled against a pincered kick or a stab from Malduanan's beak.
Nothing hit him. As he spun to his feet he heard the clang of the creature's forelimb batting Chester through the air like a shuttlecock, swaddled in ribbons of silk.
There was a gouge thumb-knuckle deep in the metal where Dennis had parried the creature's blow with his sword. The same limb had just struck Chester squarely.
Dennis' face was white as dead bone. He stabbed. If Chester had been killed or reduced to crippled impotence for the rest of eternity because his master was a boastful fool...
He hadn't thrust for a limb joint this time. Dennis didn't know how cold a murderous rage could be—not until he saw the creature smash down at Chester for a mistake that was Dennis' own, all his own. The point glided butter-smooth over the armored collar and into Malduanan's neck.
The creature snatched itself aside.
Dennis thought he'd missed, cut only air because his sharp blade hadn't even quivered with contact—
But there was slime on a hand's breadth of the swordpoint and there was a spurt of gray-green ichor hanging in the air behind Malduanan's head as the creature lunged forward again—and stumbled.
Chester clung to both undamaged limbs on the right side, and the legs didn't scissor apart as Malduanan expected them to.
"Got him!" Dennis cried in triumph at his friend's life; but it was a warrior's cry too, and a swordsman's. He thrust, ignoring the pain in his torn side as he'd ignored if ever since he realized that he had to function normally—even if his body didn't think it could.
Malduanan's eyes were pools of glittering blood. Its beak opened as the legs on its right side forced themselves apart against Chester's metallic grip.
The sword slid through Malduanan's beak. The point jarred to a halt on the inner surface of the creature's armored braincase.
The creature's six limbs flailed in a convulsive motion swifter than anything they'd managed under conscious control. Dennis jumped back, dropping the swordhilt of necessity. He stumbled, from weakness and not because his foot had caught on a tangle of dry grass.
The left side of his garments, trousers as well as tunic, was sticky with the blood that oozed from cuts over his ribs.
The ground shook as Malduanan fell. The creature's legs beat a drum-roll that scattered dirt and grass high enough to throw a long shadow.
Dennis sat up. He had to lean on his arms to stay upright. His vision was clear, but he saw double images of everything around him.
Malduanan's armored back arched; then the creature's belly slammed the ground again and its tail lifted, spinnerets spewing out gobs of silk that fell over it and the landscape promiscuously.
The creature's whole huge body shuddered and grew still.
The doubled images in Dennis' eyes drew back together. The scene shrank down to a pool of white light.
He barely felt the ground's impact as he collapsed.
CHAPTER 37
There was something damp and cool over Dennis' eyes. All the rest of his skin prickled as though burning needles were being driven into the surface of his body.
"Is the sword all right, Chester?" he whispered.
His lips were cold and stiff until he moved them. Veins of fire razored through them like lava rising in the crevices of a glacier.
"The sword is with us, Dennis," the little robot said. "It was used hard in the struggle, as you were used hard; but both of you will be well, that is so."
A sponge mopped Dennis' breastbone, then moved cautiously across the torn left side of his chest. He shuddered. He was cold to the core.
He knew he was dying.
"Chester," he said, "you're all right, aren't you?"
"Indeed I am well, Dennis," the robot replied. "And you have slain Malduanan."
"We killed him, my friend," Dennis said.
When he smiled, he felt a little better. The empty cold of his body mixed with his burning skin. He wondered where he was lying. He didn't feel the grass heads tickling him as he expected.
His smile faded. "You'll tell my parents, won't you, Chester?"
"When next we see your parents, I will tell them that you are a hero and have slain Malduanan, Dennis."
"And—and Aria?"
"What is it that your friend can tell me that I don't see for myself, Dennis?"
Dennis lurched upright. The cloth fell from his eyes, but for a moment dizziness blinded him to all but the light.