Adon and his friends consumed the flesh of the mystic bear.

  The butterfly had lost much of his taste for hunting animals, but as he sank into his feeding trance, he recognized dimly that he could never lose his taste for this exquisite meat. Then there was just the rich, intoxicating savor of bear meat, gamey and strong and delicious in its flavor. Adon lost himself in the taste for a time.

  When Adon emerged from his food coma, he found himself in darkness. The sun had set while he and the spiders were chowing down.

  That was delicious. It was Goldie’s voice. I feel so different. So much more…

  Adon understood what she was referring to, because he felt the same way, overflowing with power and vitality. This mystic beast was easily the most powerful creature any of them had ever tasted.

  There was movement in the corner of Adon’s vision, and he saw, as the advancing figure progressed toward the zone where he could see more clearly, that it was Goldie. She was only barely recognizable. Over the days since her Evolution, she had continued growing with her consumption of Biomass, and her appetite had been ravenous.

  Goldie had gradually grown from a large-dinner-plate-sized spider to a creature whose legs would dangle off the edges of the plate on all sides, until now, as she approached Adon, she appeared to be roughly the size of a manhole cover. With his mind slightly fuzzy from having just woken up, the butterfly was able to see her as a human might see her for a moment—this monster spider who looked like she had just crawled out of one’s nightmares.

  She looks like she would eat your face, Adon thought. Is eating a really advanced enemy like going through a half-stage of Evolution or something?

  How do you feel? Goldie asked.

  I feel great, actually, Adon sent.

  I watched you change, Goldie replied. I mean, I watched how you digested, and your body—have you noticed it?

  Adon fluttered his wings gently, and he felt a difference.

  I’m big, Adon sent. I mean, I’m bigger?

  Goldie nodded. You should give your body a try. I would not want you to fly us home without—without having tested your wings.

  Adon felt suddenly nervous.

  Is there something wrong with my wings? he wondered. Do they look bloated or defective or something? But then, Goldie had not said any of that precisely.

  He flapped his wings tentatively and suddenly shot a foot off the ground.

  What in the world…?

  Adon tried to get control of his unexpected flight pattern, but he overcompensated and flipped over in midair before he regained his equilibrium and began to stabilize.

  What was that?

  The butterfly heard the sound of gentle laughter through Telepathy from below him, and he did not need to look down to know that it was Goldie who he had amused.

  What did you do to my wings, huh? Adon sent. Stick them together or something?

  Me? Goldie replied. It was all the bear. We ate him, and it changed us.

  A chill went through Adon then.

  Changed us how? Adon transmitted.

  Samson is still asleep, Goldie sent. You could come down and look at him, but he’s surrounded in shed bits of skin. You already looked at me. I think you know what I mean. You left several layers of exoskeleton on the ground in the process of eating your share of the bear, too. We have grown. Changed.

  So that’s what you meant, Adon replied. We got bigger…

  Goldie nodded, and Adon spun in the air, flapping over toward the lake where they had encountered the bear. Night had fallen, and it was dark outside, but there was a waxing gibbous moon that night. It provided enough light that Adon would be able to see his own reflection.

  As the butterfly glided over the water, he saw himself mirrored back. If he’d had normal human lungs, the image might have taken his breath away.

  When he had reverted to his butterfly form, his wings had also returned to their naturally clear coloration. Looming over the lake, the gibbous moon floating beside him, his wings refracted the light and enhanced it, making him look luminous and yellow, almost like a second moon beside the first.

  Dimly, the butterfly recognized that this visual did not help him answer the question he had been contemplating: how large he had suddenly grown. With only the moon and stars beside him in the sky, he had no tangible objects to give his size context.

  Deflated, he wheeled away from the lake and moved back toward the site of the bear’s death. He saw Goldie there, still looking inflated beyond the possible like some horrible mutant spider from out of a cheesy low-budget monster movie. And he saw Samson, or rather he saw a pile of shed skins, beneath which he felt certain Samson rested.

  Still have to wait for him to wake up, right, Adon thought.

  He settled down beside the bear—or, more accurately, beside the drastically reduced remnants of the bear that had not yet been devoured.

  Only the head, neck, and a little bit of the upper chest had been meaningfully consumed by the three arthropods.

  Adon estimated that the three arthropods had consumed a twentieth of the bear’s weight. And it had already been in somewhat rough shape when they encountered it, he recognized now, worn down by illness, not at its peak fitness or fighting weight.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Nevertheless, Adon thought that it was far more than they would normally have been able to consume of any other material. The bear must have been a particularly high quality meal that their bodies had worked hard to devour as thoroughly as they could. At least, that was how it seemed to him.

  Adon settled down next to one of the great bear paws and tried to compare his size to that, but it was no good as a measuring device. He could tell that his wingspan was much larger than the paw’s length, perhaps three or four times the length.

  You are trying to decide how much you have grown, Goldie sent, her tone slightly amused.

  Yes, Adon replied. I don’t know how to guess it!

  Goldie chuckled giddily.

  I had the same issue, she sent. But I finally concluded, regardless of what the number is, exactly, I am now probably the largest spider in the world!

  Adon had to laugh at that.

  Yes, you probably are, he agreed.

  And you are the largest butterfly, Adon, she added. You should be proud. Soak that in for a moment. You are likely the greatest specimen of your species that exists. We know how uncommon butterflies are in general. Mystic butterflies are rarer still. Butterflies that are not mystic probably do not get to consume such large feasts. So, just appreciate it for a moment. You are the largest butterfly in the world. You wanted to achieve great things. Enjoy one of the great things you have achieved.

  Adon shook his head slightly.

  I did not want to make any great achievements in weight, he replied. I had… enough of those in my previous life. But I will stop and allow myself to feel a sense of gratitude.

  For? Goldie asked.

  I’m still light enough to fly! Adon sent.

  The two chuckled together over that.

  It might have been their combined laughter that caused Samson to stir. The pile of exoskeletons with him at the bottom began to move almost immediately as Adon and Goldie amused themselves in the aftermath of their victory.

  What’s so funny? the young spider sent sleepily.

  Just happy we’re still alive, bro, Adon transmitted.

  You should see the other guy, Samson sent instantly.

  Then all three arthropods were laughing, although in the back of Adon’s mind, he felt a bit of lingering guilt. He still wished he could have saved the bear.

  The feeling was completely moot now that parts of the bear, from its head down to the beginnings of its chest, had been reduced to mere fur and bone. But that didn’t stop him feeling like a bit of a failure.

  Imagine if the bear could have fought alongside us when the Empire shows up, he thought to himself.

  Samson crawled out from under the shed skins, and Adon was slightly taken aback.

  The spiderling, just weeks old, was now somewhat larger than Goldie had been when Adon met her.

  Adon could not help but wonder how Samson would ever be able to mate with another spider of his species if he chose to do that in this life. He assumed the size differences had some sort of reproductive relevance, and female spiders were always a bit larger than males in his limited experience.

  Adon, you got really big, Samson sent.

  Me? Adon replied. You should get a look at yourself in a mirror once we head back…

  They bantered back and forth for a few minutes after that, and Samson and Adon each helped the other gauge his size a bit more accurately than he had been able to before. It seemed that Adon’s wingspan was now closing in on three feet long, a breathtaking jump in size.

  Adon would have ranked with the largest butterflies in the world before now, but now he was only comparable to prehistoric insects he vaguely remembered reading about in biology classes in a couple of his lives.

  Insects this big are supposed to be impossible in a world with a smaller concentration of oxygen in the atmosphere than the prehistoric Earth, Adon remembered with an effort. Then again, who’s to say this world doesn’t have that insane level of oxygen…

  He decided that he would not try too hard to think about it unless he suddenly found himself having difficulty taking in enough air through his spiracles.

  Well, should we head back to the palace? Samson asked. We had a more successful hunt than anything you could have imagined, right?

  That’s true, Adon allowed.

  Anyone still hungry? Goldie asked. There is still so much meat…

  I don’t think I’ll ever be hungry again after that, Samson sent. I feel so full—and so incredibly vital after eating that bear. Like a different person. Like I could win a fight with anyone.

  Adon felt a dim concern about the way Samson’s mind was spinning recent events—he did not want his brother to keep on taking challenges that were too big for him. But he shared the same basic impression about his post-bear condition. There was a sensation of overflowing power and energy—of near invincibility.

  I suppose I am not hungry either, Goldie replied regretfully. And we cannot take the meat with us. So sad.

  The spiders both turned and looked to Adon—their transport home.

  Wait, the butterfly sent. I don’t think we can leave the bear like this. We should do something about the body.

  Good thinking, Adon, Samson agreed instantly. Considering what eating some of the bear did for us, I would hate to see the kind of creatures that might emerge if some random scavengers eat the rest of the body. We could get mega-vultures flying around the Claustrian woods. Rosslyn wouldn’t exactly be happy about that.

  That was not, in fact, quite what Adon had been thinking. The idea that scavengers might eat what was left of the bear had dimly occurred to him, but not as a hazard. Mainly, the butterfly felt that it was a little disrespectful to just leave the corpse of a sentient creature—one that had seemingly only attacked them because it was driven mad by sickness—just lying on the ground. Discarded like a piece of trash. The bear had been one of them.

  Adon did not feel like discussing that at length, though. He recognized that he might be going a bit soft, compared to the ruthless predator he had been since hatching. He was ambivalent on whether that was a good thing.

  Instead of explaining anything, he simply recalled what Rosslyn had taught him and ignited his aura into fire magic. He barely noticed it, but the mana flowed more easily than it ever had before, virtually at the speed of thought, and there seemed to be a significantly larger reservoir than there had been. A few seconds later, he touched his burning mana to the bear skin, the last remnants of the bear caught fire, and the sad, skin-and-bone corpse began to burn away.

  The arthropods all stood around the burning mammal in a silent semicircle for the next several minutes, until finally, the body was reduced to black and white bits of ash and bone.

  Now we can go, Adon sent.

  The evidence is all disposed of, Goldie replied in an ironic tone.

  Adon guessed from her voice that Goldie probably understood his real feelings about the bear, but she would not bring them up if he didn’t.

  Instead of responding verbally, the butterfly stretched and grew his back slightly, and he positioned himself so that the spiders could easily step onto his body. He was pleased to find that despite how large the spiders had grown, his body was still able to accommodate them, because Adon’s thorax and abdomen seemed to have increased in size in proportion to his wings.

  The spiders moved up onto his back, and Adon took to the sky once again, intending to fly through the night.