The odour emanating from the conical peak of the nest was not so unpleasant as the stench of the tunnel beneath, but still brought a wrinkle to Shamil’s nose. It was rich in raw meat, as he would have expected, but also bore the taint of breath exhaled by inhuman lungs.
“Right,” Tihla said, dumping the sack containing a recently butchered goat at the entrance. Getting there had required a confusing climb of a dozen crisscrossed ladders made arduous by the burden of meat they had to carry. “Best if you spend no more than an hour feeding them at first; they’ll get scratchy otherwise. When you’re done, report to Ehlias. Time you two got fitted for your helmets.” With that Tihla started back down the ladder.
“We don’t need to be . . .” Lyvia began uncertainly, “. . . introduced?”
This provo
