“«Ты говоришь по-русски?»” he replied with surprise.“Not really,” Clarissa said with a smile. “Just enough to get in tro...ble.”“Which is exactly the right amount!” he replied with a grin. “Come in, please.”‘Said the spider to the fly,’ I thought, but didn’t say.“Subdeacon Michael!” Mrs. Zhuravlyova exclaimed. “Welcome. I have tea.”“Thank you. We’ll both have some.”Mr. Zhuravlyov, Clarissa, and I sat down at the kitchen table and Mrs. Zhuravlyova brought tea in traditional Russian glasses set in. The tentaclearms are pliant and move so freely they seem almost to ooze, there doesn'tseem to be any bones to them but they are fantastically strong. And theyare covered in suckers – tiny, sensitive dextrous cups that both caressand probe. The suckers and the arms they cover coil around the boy's limbs,slither across the corrugations of his ribcage, glide down the slope of histightly drawn belly. The b**sts lean in close and lick the boy which renewshis frantic squirming; the lad's stringy. More

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