Her eyes were watering as she wheezed, but she nodded and a minute or two later she choked out her response, “Ailayana.”
He complimented her, “That’s a nice name. I only ask because you’re the first. If things go well, you’ll be the first of many. If things don’t go well—in that case I suppose you’ll still be the first of many. I will just have to keep working at it until I get it right.”
Ailayana was still panting, trying to catch her breath, but she managed another question, “Working at what?”
“I’m going to disable your ability to spellweave,” he answered reasonably. “If possible I will kill your seed-mind while leaving you unharmed. In essence, I’m trying to make you purely human, although there’s no helping your strange upbringing.”
Her body lurched upward but the restraints arrested her movement while Tyrion’s will fought hers once more. Her resistance ended as he punched her in the belly again, harder this time.
“You’re probably asking yourself, ‘why?’ Why would I want to do something like that? The answer is right here,” he caressed the smooth skin just beneath where her belly button would have been if she had been born in the normal fashion. “Your womb is what I need. Since your elders decided to make the male children a genetic dead end, you, and the other She’Har children of your gender, are the only road I have to gaining the special gifts of the various groves. Unfortunately, your seed-mind is a real problem, since it not only makes it very difficult to keep you a prisoner, but it also suppresses your menstrual cycle.
“Please don’t struggle further. If I have to keep hitting you it might damage your internal organs, and that’s just what I’m trying to avoid, right?” he added.
She was close to breathing normally again, so he began, focusing his aythar and burning a tiny portion of the seed-mind mind nestled inside her brain. Ailayana’s body arched as all the muscles in her body contracted at once and then she went limp, but her eyes were still open.
“How do you feel?” he asked clinically.
She attempted to spellweave again, and he was forced to subdue her once more. Then he cauterized another spot in her seed-mind. This time she screamed, a hoarse piercing cry that seemed as though it would never end. With his magesight Tyrion could see Ailayana’s aura was lit up with an overwhelming indicator of pain.
That was unexpected, since the knowledge he had gained with the loshti indicated that the human brain was incapable of feeling pain when damaged directly. But I suppose that doesn’t necessarily apply to the seed-mind that the She’Har have added. It appeared as though the alien tissue was sending a variety of scrambled signals outward now that it was injured, causing her intense discomfort.
Perhaps I should try cauterizing the points of connection first next time? he wondered. The seed-mind was supposed to be a largely dormant organ normally. From the loshti he understood its primary function to be recording sensory stimuli and storing memories of the host’s experiences until their death. At that point the human brain would die and the seed would germinate, becoming an elder She’Har with full recall of the memories of its human incubator. The only real ‘active’ function of the seed-mind was producing spellweavings, and that only when the mind of its host sent the appropriate signals to it.
Obviously, though, the seed-mind could have more direct effects on its host. Which I should have guessed, thought Tyrion, since I already knew it was affecting the menstrual cycle.
Ailayana’s screaming ended and she attempted to spellweave again, interrupting his thoughts. It was a clumsy effort, however, and he easily suppressed it without needing to hit her again. He cauterized another spot within the seed-mind, observing carefully to see how it affected her.
Ailayana’s body was covered in sweat and she twitched uncontrollably. She continued screaming for another half an hour as he experimented, until her voice gave out completely, leaving her unable to do anything other than make rasping inarticulate wheezes.
Eventually, she died.
“That’s no good,” noted Tyrion, his nose wrinkling at the smell of feces and urine. Her body had voided itself even before she had died. He would have to consider improving his lab design. He hadn’t given much thought to body disposal. Incinerating a corpse in an enclosed chamber deep underground was a bad idea, if you liked breathing that is. Transporting bodies to the surface repeatedly would also be a chore if he had to keep doing this.
Perhaps I can devise an enchantment to pulverize the bodies. Then I could let the water take the remains away. He might need to enlarge the waterway leading out of the chamber. The only other option he could see would be transporting the bodies above ground and then composting them. They would probably make excellent fertilizer.
Either way, he was going to need a lot more test subjects.
Chapter 12
“Where are we?” asked Layla.
“In the Gaelyn grove, across the western ocean,” replied Brangor. “This is the only spot I know here.”
“So you don’t know where we are,” she stated acerbically. Layla looked to Tyrion, “We could be anywhere. This fool knows nothing.”
Brangor growled, but Tyrion held up his hand, “Just because he doesn’t know exactly where this place is doesn’t mean that it isn’t across the ocean.” He addressed Jordan, the other Mordan mage that had accompanied them, “Can you find this place now?”
The blond man nodded, “I can go anywhere once I have been there once.”
“Even though you don’t know where we are now either?” asked Layla skeptically.
Jordan nodded.
The expression on her face was almost a sneer. Layla didn’t trust the Mordan mages. Apparently she had had a bad experience with Brangor in the past, back when she had still been a slave in Ellentrea. “If I discover you have lied to me I will have your balls.”
Brangor spat on the ground defiantly. A second later he began screaming when Layla activated the tattoo on his neck. Seconds went by, but she didn’t release him from his pain.
“We aren’t shielded for sound, Layla,” cautioned Tyrion.
Her face was casual as she answered, “I altered the screen to stop sound when I activated his tattoo.”
Brangor was still writhing. “Let him go,” ordered Tyrion. “Keep that up for too long and he will be useless.”
She dipped her head, “Very well, my lord.” With a word she canceled the pain and the blond Mordan went mostly silent, gasping and sweating as he tried to recover his composure.
“You learned your lesson, didn’t you?” asked Tyrion amicably.
Eyeing Layla fearfully the man panted, “Yes, my lord.”
Ryan spoke up then, “How will we find a good location, Father? I can sense nothing through Layla’s shield. We’re effectively blind and the region is completely unknown to us.” While they could see each other with their magesight within the shield, it was pitch black to normal vision and the outside world was completely blocked from their senses, arcane and otherwise.
“I will handle that,” answered Tyrion. “Emma can do the same if necessary. Let me have a few minutes and I’ll know more.” Sitting down he began to listen.
“Wait,” said Emma. “Someone needs to keep a watch on you. Let me help.”
“I’ll do it,” offered Brigid, placing her hands on Tyrion’s shoulders.
Tyrion felt the tentative touch of her mind on his. She had never done such a thing with him before, but he felt more comfortable having her watch him than Emma. Of all his children, Brigid was the wildest, the most aggressive, and certainly the most violent. Whatever she might see lurking in the darkness of his heart, she was the least likely to be repulsed by it.
Letting go of his concerns he started listening once more, forgetting the six people around him and focusing on the slow beat of the earth. His awareness expanded and his body grew larger. Well, his human body didn’t change, he just wasn’t defined by its boundaries any longer. He was the soil, the stone, and he stretched outward into th
e distance.
The land became his body and he felt the roots of the trees growing into him for miles in every direction. Over one portion of himself ran a great line of water, meandering along a curving course, in another place he rose to greater heights where the stone thrust itself skyward forming a massive stone outcrop. Scattered across him were places where small things moved, their feet sending tiny vibrations through his skin.
To the east he dipped low and a great body of water lapped over him, the beginning of the ocean. The trees were few there, but a large number of animals gathered there, some running into the water and others laying quietly on the soft sandy shores.
He felt an insistent tug on his mind. That’s enough, Father. Come back. He resisted the pull for a moment, but it felt familiar. Collapsing he began to shrink into himself, letting the other awareness guide him.
When he opened his eyes again it was to darkness, but his magesight showed him six figures gathered around the small body that seemed to contain him. The one that had been calling him was closest, a female, with her arms around his shoulders, clutching him tightly.
“Is he back?” asked a masculine voice.
“Yes,” answered a feminine voice. That’s Emma, supplied his brain as it began to function more normally.
Two men were watching him with expressions of disgust on their faces. Brangor and Jordan, he realized. They are uncomfortable seeing people touch one another. Brigid still had her arms around him. “That’s enough,” he told Brigid, shrugging free of her and retaking his feet.
“Did you find a suitable place?” asked Ryan.
“Yes. The ocean is to the east of us. There’s a group of She’Har there, sunbathing and enjoying the waves. The grove stops a mile short of the shoreline, so we won’t have too much trouble remaining unobserved,” he told them.
“How many?” asked Brigid.
“Thirty or fourty.”
“We only have enough boxes for twenty-five,” observed Ryan.
Tyrion shook his head. “Boxes for twenty-three,” he reminded. “Two are have already been allocated.”
“Sorry,” said Ryan. “I forgot. So what will we do if we get more than twenty-three?”
“Those are mine,” announced Brigid, grinning evilly.
“Try to kill the males rather than the females,” ordered Tyrion. “If necessary I can use them, but I’d prefer the women. Once I find my answer they will be the foundation of the next stage.”
They spent the rest of the day trekking across the landscape, heading eastward. They rested every couple of hours, when Layla could no longer keep her invisibility shield up. It made the journey slow, but she was buoyed by the fact that once they arrived she wouldn’t have to do the same for their return trip.
When they finally reached the ocean Layla risked making a small opening in the shield to survey the surrounding area more directly, but she was unable to spot the She’Har children that Tyrion had mentioned before. “I don’t sense anyone.”
Emma was beside her, “Almost a mile north of us. They’re almost too far for me to detect.”
Layla nodded. She already knew that Emma and Tyrion had a far greater range for their magesight. “We need to get closer then.”
They marched north, following the shoreline. Except for Layla, who strained to keep her invisibility shield up, the rest of them enjoyed the walk. They had removed their boots and the wet sand was pleasant sensation for tired feet.
They moved carefully when they got closer to the group of She’Har lounging on the beach. When they were within a hundred yards Tyrion shifted the sand beneath them and they sank into the ground. From there they slowly made their way through the earth until they were directly underneath their prey. Twenty feet above them the She’Har rested, unaware of the threat below them.
“You can release your shield now,” Ryan told Layla. “Emma has us concealed.”
“You’re certain it will work?” asked Layla. “They are very close.”
“Trust her,” answered Ryan.
Layla’s shield vanished and suddenly their magesight began reporting the world around them. They were surrounded by waterlogged sand, for while they were under the beach, they were below the sea level. Above the She’Har sat and lounged, enjoying the sunset to the west and the appearance of the stars on the eastern horizon.
“Forty-one,” counted Brigid.
“Add five more to that,” said Tyrion. “There are a few stragglers coming in from the water.”
Ryan frowned, “There’s no one there. Wait—oh they’ve transformed into some sort of big fish.”
“Dolphins,” supplied Tyrion as the unfamiliar word came to his lips. “That’s what the ancient humans called them. They aren’t fish, they’re a type of seagoing mammal.”
“Well, they look like fish,” said Layla.
Tyrion tapped Emma on the shoulder, “Go ahead and start working on the weather. You need to work slowly. I want this to look natural.”
“There’s nothing natural about a wind that can tear down trees and rip up stone,” replied his daughter.
“It happens quite often in some parts of the world,” her father informed her. “Just because you’ve never seen one doesn’t make it unnatural. You remember the picture I showed you?”
“Yes,” said Emma, sitting down and getting comfortable. Ryan sat beside her, holding her hand.
“Can she still hide us and do this?” asked Layla worriedly.
Tyrion nodded, “The earth will continue to do as she had bidden it. She won’t have to waste her attention on that.”
“What if the storm scares them away?” asked Brigid.
“They are confident in their power. They will probably just create a spellweaving to shield them and enjoy the show,” said Tyrion. “If they do start to move Ryan will notify Emma and we will start sooner.”
“You’re sure no one will see us?” asked Layla.
Tyrion smiled, “Their parents are too far from here to observe us. We simply have to make sure none escape.”
“Parents?”
“The god-trees,” he responded. Turning to Jordan he commanded, “Go. Tell the others we are ready. Bring them here.”
***
Ste’lar watched as clouds rolled in from the ocean, bringing darkness even sooner than the setting sun might have. The wind was picking up and there was every indication that a truly spectacular storm was brewing.
Eal’estea strode toward him from the waves, her long red hair whipping wildly in the fierce breeze. Water rolled down her smooth brown skin. Having just transformed, she was naked, but the air didn’t bother her. Modesty was unknown among the children of the She’Har. “Perhaps we should return,” she suggested, looking up at the sky.
Ste’lar smiled, “We would miss the show. Imagine what the storm will look like from here, rolling over the horizon and across the sky. Between the lightning and the waves I cannot believe we will ever see something so majestic any time soon.”
Apia laughed, her red eyes shining, “He’s right. Let us build a shelter and watch the show.”
The others agreed and within a minute two of them had created a spellwoven shelter, a transparent dome to stop lightning and rain, with openings along the sides to allow the wind and smells to enter. The entire group gathered beneath it to lie on their backs, facing the sky. Most of them did, anyway. Four paired off into couples to pursue more sensual pleasures while the storm passed over.
Of the five groves, the children of the Gaelyn Grove were the most given to indulging in sexual activity. Possibly because of their gift for transformation. Their time in the bodies of animals made them more aware of the primal instincts.
The wind built steadily, until the force of it began lifting small pieces of driftwood from the beach and sending them tumbling across the sand. “Is this a hurricane?” asked Eal’estea.
“Impossible,” replied Ste’lar. “The Elders would have warned us if such a thing were approaching.”
“Perhaps we should return after all,” she suggested.
“Wait, look at that!” said one of the others, surprise and awe in his voice. Over the water, beyond the range of their magesight, loomed a dark shape rising up from the water. It towered into the sky, a black column that went too far to see. A roiling, twisting, mountain of water approached, a waterspout.
“Should we run? We can’t fly in this,” said Apia.
Ste’lar shook his head negatively, “We’d never make it. Our best hope is to wait here. It will probably miss us. We can strengthen the spellweave to protect us.”
They waited and watched as the massive waterspout moved past them to the south. It changed as it came inland, dumping its water and beginning to roar. It grew ever more powerful and without knowing exactly how close it was they couldn’t gauge its true dimensions, but it was huge.
It moved directly for the closest of the elders.
“Will it damage them?” wondered Apia.
No one answered. They were all watching, awestruck at the size of the tornado. The elders could defend themselves from most weather events, but something that powerful—there could be no doubt that any of the massive trees in its path would be torn down.
And then the ground fell away beneath them.
Startled most of them fell. Only Ste’lar reacted quickly enough to transform, taking the form of a gull and beating his wings to keep from falling. His body exploded as a flash of serpentine metal flicked upward from the hole to slice through his feathered torso.
Eal’estea screamed as she saw him die. There were figures all around her, moving through the darkness. The sudden change in lighting made it difficult to see properly and her magesight was confused by the chaos around her. Many of her companions were already lying limply, unconscious. Others were creating defensive spellweaves to protect themselves.
Apia rose to her feet beside her and began a spellweave of her own. Eal’estea started to follow her example when she saw her friend’s head explode. A sudden burst of raw aythar had struck before Apia’s defense had materialized.
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