Magnificent.

Varus took notes as he observed the monster. He had filled the four leaves of his first notebook and was already well into the extra one he had brought as an afterthought.

He smiled slightly. Perhaps he could scribe additional notes on the Tribunal's stuccoed railing. If he had considered that possibility, he would have inked notes on shaved boards instead of scribing them on wax with a bronze stylus. Of course, he would probably have run out of ink by now also.

Pandareus had been making odd motions with his hands, curling and opening his fingers in a complex pattern. Is he praying? Varus wondered. Or is that some foreign gesture to turn away evil?

He was just opening his mouth to ask when Pandareus said, "I've counted three hundred and eighteen legs on the side we can see. And we don't know with a creature like this that the entire underside isn't covered with legs, instead of them being placed only around the outer rim of the body."

He's been counting, using the position of his fingers as an abacus! Varus realized in a gush of relief. He wasn't as willing to claim prayer and charms were superstitious twaddle as he might have been a month ago, but it still would have been disturbing to see his teacher descending to such practices.

Aloud Varus said, "You said, 'A creature like this,' master. You think there are more of them?"

Pandareus laughed. They were probably the only two people in the theater who found humor in the situation. That spoke well for philosophy as a foundation for life, or at least for a dignified death.

The creature was tearing a path into the island, hurling increasingly large pieces of soil and bedrock into the ocean behind it. Its hundreds of tentacles worked together, waving like a field of barley in a breeze. They groped down into the land, then wrenched loose great chunks of it.