Cursing, Stuart staggered forward. The star-cloak stayed. He tried to grip it somewhere, to wrench it free, but he could not. The thousands of tiny eyes raced past him, glittering with alien ecstasy, shining brighter and ever brighter as they fed.
He felt the life being sucked out of him.... Deeper stabbed the gelid cold ... louder roared that throbbing tone in his ears.
He heard his voice gasping furious, hopeless oaths. His eyes ached with the strain of staring at that blinding glitter. Then—
The heart of the Watcher. Crush the heart!
The words crashed like deep thunder in his brain. Had someone spoken them—? No ... for, with the command, had come a message as well. As though a thought had spoken within his mind, a telepathic warning from—where?
His eyes strained at the dazzle. Now he saw that there was a brighter core that did not shift and change when the rest of the star-cloud wove its dreadful net. A spot of light that—
He reached out ... the nucleus darted away ... he lurched forward, on legs half-frozen, and felt a stone turn under his foot. As he crashed down, his hand closed and tightened on something warm and living that pulsed frantically against his palm.
The humming rose to a shrill scream ... frightened ... warning.
Stuart tightened his grip. He lay motionless, his eyes closed. But all around him he could feel the icy tendrils of the star-thing lashing at him, drinking his human warmth, probing with avid fingers at his brain.
He felt that warm—core—writhe and try to slip between his fingers. He squeezed....