You have learned how the First Queen Atiati-kikitia became eager to learn of birthing and how the God of Death and Eating made it her labor to destroy her daughters and their own labors. You have heard of the Gods who stayed aloft and the Gods who came inside. Among the Gods who lived upon the land where the beasts roamed, there was one who was strange to the rest.

  When the God-Queen's daughters were hatched from the eggs that were buried in the land, they found the God-Queen and ate her to become the Gods. One daughter was hatched very late, and she was shrunken and imprecisely made. She had no wings, and there were six eyes on her head. When the other Gods were finished with the body of the God Queen, there was little left for her. Only the smallest piece remained to eat, and so Sikas Six-Eyes grew very little, and she was alone when the other daughters of the God-Queen flew into the sky.

  The strange God with six eyes could not fly, and she walked instead upon the land. She lived low and near to the freshly-killed land-beast, and she never gathered what could be learned from high above. Instead she learned of the beasts that were around her. She learned their thoughts and their shapes, and it seemed to her that she was a beast also, a beast with six legs and six eyes who lived in the dark, for the Sun was not yet in the sky.

  She stayed there while the other Gods learned and labored above, and her thoughts no longer attempted to go upward to them. Her own labors were simple, and in her thoughts they were not labors, because they were learned from the beasts who have none. Her labors were then of eating and waiting and watching. These labors went unnoticed by all but one of the Gods.

  Iki-Ikas, God of Rest and Searching, whose scent is borne by all workers, sought the small learning that could be found low on the land. And in her searching, she found the strange wingless God with six eyes between the short and bending trees that had not yet felt the sun and become eager to reach it.

  “Who are you, strange daughter of the God Queen? Why do you live among the beasts, Six-Eyes?” asked Iki-Ikas. The six-eyed god had not learned the speech of the Gods, and Iki-Ikas shared this learning with her so that they might exchange what they had each gathered. Iki-Ikas named her Sikas then, which was a name made from her own.

  “You will speak with me now, sister Sikas” said Iki-Ikas, who was eager.

  “Are you a mimic-beast, come to steal my food, or my insides that hold it?” asked Sikas. “I have not learned of beasts that look so much like I do. You have only two eyes, this I have learned. This is a strange thing. Were they taken by sucking worms? Did you share them with the spider, who has one-and-two eyes?”

  “I am a God who flies above,” said Iki-Ikas, “and all of us have two eyes. You are shaped as we are, though you are strangely wingless and six-eyed. It seems to me that we may learn other shapes from you. Learn from me that you have sisters in the sky, where we see much. What is your labor here where the beasts walk?”

  “I have no labors,” said Sikas who was touching four of her six eyes. “I watch for danger.”

  “That is a simple labor,” said Iki-Ikas, “though it is like our labors in the sky. My sister Rakkitik is also skilled in the labor of watching. I will bring her to you so that you may share with her your learning of watching.”

  Iki-Ikas flew into the sky and shared with Rakkitik of Sikas Six-Eyes. But Rakkitik did not follow Iki-Ikas down to the land, for she was eager to continue her labors in the sky, and to her it seemed that there was no learning to find below. Iki-Ikas told Sikas of this, and asked her of other simple labors, so that this learning would not be lost.

  “I am eating,” said Sikas Six-Eyes with the armor of beetles in her jaws. Iki-Ikas flew again to the sky and found the God of Death and Eating, who had learned much of the labor of eating.

  “You will not bother me,” said the God of Death and Eating. “I have learned all that there is of eating and it brings me no comfort to learn more. It seems to me that it is a beast you have spoken to, not a God as we are.”

  Iki-Ikas once more told Sikas Six-Eyes of what the Gods had said. “They will not come and learn from you,” she said. “I think that you have gathered much learning, but you have not folded your learning so that it will not be buried. Share with me what you have learned of beasts, and I will share with you food that is not bitter like the armor of beetles,” she said, and Sikas Six-Eyes felt a first eagerness to share.

  Sikas led Iki-Ikas to many places upon the land-beast. She led Iki-Ikas to the spiders first, who had one-and-two eyes, one-and-two legs, and a venom used for eating. Sikas had learned of hiding from them, and of jumping to escape them. Sikas led Iki-Ikas to the beetles who were slow and simple, but had many shapes and many sizes. She had learned of eating soft beetles, avoiding stiff and fearful beetles, and of riding the largest of them. They learned together of the scorpion in the desert who had large pincers, and Sikas showed also how she had learned to hold things in her jaws as they held things in their pincers. Iki-Ikas was eager to learn of the long-bodied worms whose shapes had many parts with four legs on each of them. Sikas Six-Eyes spoke with all, and Iki-Ikas who followed her learned much that could not be gathered from the sky where there were many things below too small to see.

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  Iki-Ikas then shared her learning with Sikas. She shared to Sikas of the labor of building and digging, and Sikas then built a place of comfort in the warm dirt. Iki-Ikas then did the labor of cleaning upon Sikas, who was weighed and stiffened by many seasons of dirt on her armor, and Sikas walked more swiftly than before. Then did Iki-Ikas share with Sikas the labor of sharing food, and Sikas became surrounded by many gentle beetles who ate the food from her sharing-stomach that she held at the tips of her jaws.

  Iki-Ikas gathered a final learning from Sikas then. She asked, “Sikas Six-Eyes, how are the beasts so many while we Gods are so few?”

  “I have seen them making more,” said Sikas. Iki-Ikas would bring this strange learning to Atiati-kikitia in time, and thus would begin the First Queen's eagerness to begin the labor of birthing.

  For a time, Iki-Ikas did not return to Sikas upon the land, and the Six-Eyed god once more became eager for the sharing of learning. She could not find Iki-Ikas in any place that she had led her, and so she turned to the beasts around her to do her labor of sharing. She first went to the many-legged worm. She asked, “What is your trouble?”

  The worm told Sikas, “We are often killed by birds who fly above us, who we do not see.”

  Sikas shared with them the learning of digging that she was given by Iki-Ikas. The worm dug long tunnels in the ground, and was safe there. Then she went to the spider, and she asked, “What is your trouble?”

  The spider told Sikas, “It is my hunting. My hunger is great but I eat rarely and I cannot gather enough food to ever finish.”

  Sikas shared with the spider the learning of thread-twining that Iki-Ikas had shared with her. The Spider learned to make great nets that held food for later eating. Then she went to the dragonfly, and she said, “What is your trouble?”

  “It is my wings,” said the dragonfly. “When I was young there were none who could escape me. Now my wings do not hold the air and are heavy upon me.”

  Sikas shared with the dragonfly the learning of cleaning that Iki-Ikas had shared. The dragonfly learned to clean its wings of filth, and soon flew as swiftly as ever.

  Many upsets then came to the land on which Sikas and the beasts lived. The Gods had then begun to strive against one another in the sky, and it brought terrible quakes and storms that killed many beasts. Worst of all was the appearance of the Sun, when the God of Death and Eating convinced one of her own to take such a great shape.

  Before, the scaled beasts of the land were the slowest and stupidest of all. They had always complained of the cold, even when the air was comfortable, and they stayed deep below the ground where it was warmest. But with the heat of the sun on their backs, the scaled beasts grew strong and could go where they would. They grew to be very large from all of the beasts that they ate, and Sikas and the other beasts learned to stay far from them.

  Sikas then went to where Atiati-kikitia and the Gods who had stayed beside her had settled on the ground. Their eyes were upon the sky from where the God of Death and Eating shared her terrible hatred. Only Iki-Ikas took notice of Sikas, and it was a great comfort to her to see the six-eyed God again.

  “Much has happened since we labored together,” said Iki-Ikas. Sikas told her of the learning she had shared with the worm and the spider and the dragonfly. But Iki-Ikas was afraid and distracted, for she was preparing to stand before the God of Death and Eating in disagreement. Sikas returned then to her place of comfort, and she watched the sky to learn of her sister Iki-Ikas.

  When she saw Iki-Ikas thrown down by the God of Death and Eating, she went to where Iki-Ikas had been broken into many small pieces. She found a great scale-beast there who had eaten all the pieces. She said, “Lizard, you have eaten something that I will have returned from your stomach.”

  But the lizard disagreed, saying, “You will not take my food from me, because I found it.”

  Sikas said to the lizard, “I will make it my labor to take the pieces of Iki-Ikas that you have eaten.” She went to the worm and the spider and the dragonfly, and gathered them together with offerings of food from her sharing-stomach. They all were eager to be with her, for they were hungry for any new learning that she might share to them.

  “There is a labor that I must complete,” Sikas said to them. “There is a lizard that has eaten something that I would gather.” They agreed, joining this labor that they could not have themselves, and followed Sikas to where she would complete her labors.

  Sikas brought them to the lizard. The worm first challenged the lizard, darting into its tunnels whenever the lizard lunged to eat it. Then the dragonfly bit at the lizard's eyes, always flying just out of the reach of its teeth. Then the spider brought down many webs upon the lizard, so that it could not move. Sikas crawled into the lizard's belly and drew out the pieces of Iki-Ikas that were there. They then blew away on the wind, where they returned to the First Queen Atiati-kikitia.

  Thus was the grandest labor of the God of Rest and Searching, Iki-Ikas, rescued by Sikas Six-Eyes and the beasts that she had shared labors with. In time the beasts would forget their having joined this labor, for the beasts do not fold their thoughts away.

  * * *

  This was the final story that Akkis shared with Skith. As she finished the labor of its telling, she reached her feelers into the wide span of Outside where the trees were dark columns across from her. Skith also faced Outside, and Akkis smelled her follower's terrible fear.

  “Walk into the Outside now, Skith, where death is not so certain as Inside.”

  Skith's fear did not subside, and she said, “How will I live, without food to be shared and without labors to be completed? I will die with my labors incomplete. I will not go to the Tunnels That Glitter.”

  “These are evil thoughts,” said Akkis. “Your fear has a voice that speaks these to you. I have learned little of the Outside that was not shared with me by fear's voice. But you have lived in a place Outside before now, in the pit where you were alone.”

  Skith could not compel her legs to carry her. Not in the pit nor the tunnels of the Colony had her eyes ever been faced by so much to be gathered. “Fear is at its loudest here,” she said. “It was quietest in the higher tunnels that even now are below my legs. I cannot quiet it. It will be a burden to me again as it was in the pit.”

  “You will learn of breaking fear. You will make it your labor,” said Akkis.

  Skith could not speak then, for an eagerness surrounded Akkis as she continued. “Not all the Gods Outside are enemies, for many are like the beasts. Step into Outside, Skith, and be among great things. No longer will you follow me. You will climb into the trees and beyond. Count your steps, and stop only once the number is uncountable.”

  Then did Skith go Outside, with a song from Akkis behind her in the manner of the nest-keepers. And in the song were the words of Skith the First Forager, her namesake, the words that were carved above the entrance halls:

  Beyond is found the world of Outside, where the Sun watches all things; with danger and distance your labors are tested. Whether by leading or following, the Colony waits for your return, and great labors will come from the learning you will gather.