I stared at the hill and saw something buried in its side. An appendage, perhaps, like a beetle’s leg—an enormous one, a quarter of a league long, covered in pale gray chitin and ending in a curious claw. I wondered what was buried in that hill. And then I realized. The green rock formations in the hill were not rock at all. They were bones. Ribs. The leviathan’s carcass was not buried in the hill. The leviathan’s carcass was the hill.
