"La Reine le veult!
Swarm! Swar-rm! Swar-r-rm!"
The Hive shook beneath the shattering thunder of a stuck-down
quilt being torn back.
"Don't be alarmed, dears," said the Wax-moths. "That's our work.
Look up, and you'll see the dawn of the New Day."
Light broke in the top of the hive as the Queen had,
prophesied--naked light on the boiling, bewildered bees.
Sacharissa rounded up her rearguard, which dropped headlong off
the frame, and joined the Princess's detachment thrusting toward
the Gate. Now panic was in full blast, and each sound bee found
herself embraced by at least three Oddities. The first instinct
of a frightened bee is to break into the stores and gorge herself
with honey; but there were no stores left, so the Oddities fought
the sound bees.
"You must feed us, or we shall die!" they cried, holding and
clutching and slipping, while the silent scared earwigs and
little spiders twisted between their legs. "Think of the Hive,
traitors! The Holy Hive!"
"You should have thought before!" cried the sound bees.
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