Betrayer's Bane

by Michael G. Manning

  No one spoke for a minute when Brigid walked in and seated herself near the middle—and, although dinner had not started yet, she casually took a large bun from a platter in the center of the table, stuffing it into her mouth.

  She gave no greeting to anyone, or any other sign that she thought her absence of many months was unusual.

  Silence ruled as every ongoing conversation stopped abruptly. Faces ranged back and forth, as everyone glanced first at Brigid, and then at Emma or Kate.

  “Did you get it?!” said Emma.

  Simultaneously Kate blurted out, “Is he alive?”

  “Mmmhmblerga,” mumbled Brigid around a mouthful of fresh bread.

  “What?!” asked Emma, raising her voice in annoyance.

  Kate was already on her feet, however, “Where have you been? Where’s Daniel?”

  Brigid held up a hand to forestall them before stealing the Blake’s cup from where it sat in front of him. Swallowing and chewing she cleared her mouth, “I said, ‘I’m starving’.”

  “Answer the question, Brigid!” ordered Emma.

  “Whose question do I answer first?”

  “Mine!” said both Kate and Emma at the same time.

  Brigid glanced back and forth between the two, arching one brow. “Helen says it’s rude to interrogate a traveler before you feed them.”

  Several of their siblings chuckled but neither Emma or Kate found the answer amusing. Even Lyralliantha looked perplexed.

  Brigid sighed and then glanced back and forth, “Yes and sort of.”

  Emma gave her a steely stare, “Please clarify that.”

  Brigid looked at her sister, “In answer to your question, yes I did get it.” She addressed Kate next, “And he is alive, sort of.”

  Things got confusing after that as everyone began speaking at once, but Ryan broke through the chaotic din with a silent shout, This is not the place. There are too many ears here.

  The reminder worked and the room got quiet quickly. Within minutes Emma and Tyrion’s other adult children had left, taking Brigid with them, presumably to the more secure council chamber.

  Kate and Lyra were left sitting alone at the table.

  Kate’s knuckles were white as she gripped the table edge in front of her. Lyra put a hand on her shoulder, “You need to stay calm. It won’t do you or your baby any good if you let this upset you.”

  “You’re alright with this?” Kate asked her in astonishment.

  “He has been gone a long time,” said Lyra. “Another hour or two is unlikely to make a difference. We should eat now.” She ran her hand over her round belly to emphasize the point.

  “I’m starving but I get full after two or three bites,” complained Kate. “This anxiousness isn’t helping either.”

  “Best to eat now,” advised Lyra. “It may be more than anxiety once we learn what Brigid has to tell.”

  “That isn’t helping!” declared Kate.

  ***

  “It appears we won’t have to worry about alternative plans after all,” said Anthony. Brigid had finished sharing her information, though it took them more than an hour to pry it all out of her. She was remarkably reticent. “You’re sure you know how to handle them?” he asked.

  Emma nodded, “Father gave me very careful instructions.”

  “They sound incredibly dangerous,” observed Abby.

  “They are,” agreed Emma. “One mistake and we’re all dead, but we have a place prepared that should contain them if the worst should occur.”

  “Nothing is foolproof,” said Abby.

  “If it goes wrong they only have to be contained for a few months before they die on their own. They can’t survive long without feeding,” responded Emma. “It’s only myself at risk once we get them in there.”

  “It shouldn’t be you,” suggested Violet.

  “Why?”

  “No one else can do what you do, Emma,” said her sister. “Trust someone else to handle this. We can afford to lose one of us, but you’re unique and we’ll need your talents for the other part of his plan.”

  I will do it, offered Ryan. I designed the containment chamber, and I’m crafting the protective gear. No one understands the risks better than I do.

  “No,” said Emma.

  I also have less to lose, he continued, holding up his metal arm.

  “You’re the only one who might salvage things afterward if there’s a mistake,” argued Emma. “It won’t be you. Besides, that arm is a liability. Aythar makes them more active.”

  “Let me,” said Blake with a half-smile. “There’s nothing special about me.”

  “Ian would be better,” suggested Sarah. “No one would miss him.”

  “Hey!” exclaimed Ian.

  “That isn’t fair, Sarah,” said Ashley, breaking in. “Ian has feelings too. Besides, he’s too stupid. He’s bound to get himself killed.”

  “All the more reason to let him,” retorted Sarah.

  “You can all go fuck yourselves!” shouted Ian, standing and heading for the door. “I don’t have to take this shit.”

  “That was hardly wise,” said Abby after he had gone.

  “It was true,” said Sarah bluntly. “Would you miss him?”

  Abby’s mouth compressed into a firm line, but she didn’t disagree.

  “If he betrays us the She’Har will put an end to all of this,” said Anthony.

  “Who would he talk to?” said Sarah dismissively. “The She’Har wouldn’t make any exceptions for him even if he ratted us out. He’d be the first to suffer.”

  Anthony shook his head, “You think he’s smart enough to know that?”

  “Not to worry,” said Emma. She smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I have him under close watch. If the even thinks about betraying us he’ll have something sharp between his ribs before he even realizes what’s happened.” She let that information sink in for a moment. They had to be wondering, who else does she have under watch? A little paranoia would do them good.

  “Let’s get to work,” she added a moment later.

  Chapter 28

  “I already told you where he is,” said Brigid.

  “You did?” Kate didn’t recall anything like that.

  “What was the first thing I said when I sat down?”

  Lyralliantha interrupted, “I don’t think Kate’s in the mood for games. Please speak plainly. This isn’t good for her nerves—or mine.”

  But Kate was already thinking, “Helen!”

  Her younger sister nodded, “I’ve been staying with them while I waited. Can you imagine how bored I’ve been?”

  “But why didn’t he come back with you?” asked Kate.

  “He’s a tree.”

  Kate stared at her in shock, but Lyra was more reactive, “What did you say?”

  “You heard me.”

  “How is this possible?” wondered the silver-haired She’Har.

  Brigid shrugged.

  I knew he had some power that was unique, thought Lyralliantha, but this?

  “He has to come back,” said Kate. “He can do that, can’t he?”

  “He said he wasn’t sure if he could,” said Brigid. “Maybe he likes it. I warned him, though. If he doesn’t come back, I’ll set fire to him.”

  Lyra stared at her in horror. “That had better be one of your human jokes.” Then she exclaimed, “Kate?!”

  The world was spinning and turning dark around Kate. She tried to catch herself but the floor came up and struck her before she could recover.

  ***

  Kate’s body felt cold. Opening her eyes she struggled to focus. She seemed to be in bed, with Lyra sitting propped up on pillows beside her. “What happened?”

  “You passed out,” said Lyra.

  Her hand found a goose egg on her forehead. “How bad is it?”

  “Your belly broke your fall, otherwise that stone floor might have split your skull,” Lyra informed her.

  “The baby!”

  “Not t
o worry, she’s fine,” added Lyra quickly.

  “She?”

  Lyra put a hand over her mouth, “Oops.”

  “You were supposed to keep it a secret,” said Kate ruefully. She started to sit up but a wave of dizziness swept over her.

  “Just relax,” said Lyra, pushing her back gently. “You aren’t well.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m not really sure. I know next to nothing about pregnancy, but I can tell your body is under a lot of stress,” said Lyra. “I think you should rest.”

  Kate could see the worry in her eyes. It was well hidden, but it was definitely there. And given how hard she is to read normally, that means it’s probably pretty bad, thought Kate. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  Lyralliantha sighed, “I don’t know. I want to bring Koralltis here to look at you.”

  “Who?”

  “He’s a lore-warden, from the Prathion Grove.”

  “What would he know about pregnancy?” protested Kate.

  “The lore-wardens have a lot of human knowledge preserved in their minds, and he has the most experience as a healer. If anyone can help you, it would be him.”

  “Daniel was very firm about keeping my pregnancy a secret,” said Kate. “Isn’t there anyone from the Illeniel Grove?”

  “He is the best,” argued Lyra. “I won’t risk you with anyone less skilled and I trust him. I don’t want to lose you, Kate.”

  Were those tears in her eyes? Surely not, thought Kate, but the evidence was right in front of her. Lyra was frightened, for her. “Alright,” she agreed at last.

  ***

  Remember, cautioned Ryan for the tenth time, no magic. None.

  “Yeah,” responded Blake nervously, “You said that before.”

  It bears repeating.

  “Wouldn’t this protect me?” asked Blake holding up his hand. It was covered in a finely wrought chainmail glove, as was the rest of his body. Unlike the mail that men had made in the distant past, to protect themselves from slashing weapons and the like, this mail was delicate and light.

  I can’t be certain, he answered. Ryan had spent countless hours crafting it, first making the thin wire and rolling it and then using his will to weld the tiny rings. It was made from pure iron so it was dark in color, the metal having begun to oxidize even as the wire had first begun to cool.

  Another significant difference from normal mail, this was all of a piece, the shirt, legs, feet, and hands were all joined. A long slit in the back offered the only access to the suit. It made donning the protective garment slow and difficult and once Blake was inside Violet and Ryan worked together to close up the opening, putting new rings in place and welding them.

  Blake’s head was still bare, but once they were finished with the back they slipped a mail coif over his hair and began joining it to the rest at his shoulders. A glass plate covered his face. There were tiny rings embedded in the edges, placed there when it was created so that it could be knitted together with the mail that covered his head.

  When they were done, there were no openings left. Nothing larger than the tiny rings that covered him should be able to reach his body. Dressing Blake and closing the back and neck had taken them almost two hours.

  “What if I need to take a piss?” asked Blake with a smile, his voice slightly muffled by the glass plate.

  I wouldn’t advise it, said Ryan.

  Blake frowned, “No, seriously. I need to pee.”

  “That’s not coming off until you finish,” said Violet. “If you can’t hold it you’ll have to pee inside it.”

  “Damnitt, now I really have to go,” groaned Blake.

  Try not to think about it, or take Violet’s advice.

  “It would be a lot stronger if you had enchanted it,” noted Blake.

  The magic might make things worse.

  “But enchantments don’t bleed magic the way normal spells do.”

  “These things originally ate She’Har elders. Enchantments and spellweaves are fundamentally the same. There’s every chance they could eat through it, just like normal magic,” explained Violet. “Best not to risk it.”

  “Then why don’t they destroy the stasis box?” asked Blake.

  “They aren’t immune to magic. So long as they’re contained, they’re stuck in time, just like anything else in one,” she replied.

  “So when I open this box what will happen?” he asked.

  Probably nothing, said Ryan. It was still dormant when it went in. Just put it in with the food, close the lid and get out.

  “Alright.”

  Together Ryan and Violet lifted the heavy stone sarcophagus that contained the krytek’s first ‘meal’. It was too heavy for hands, of course, so they used their aythar to levitate it before pushing it through the doorway into the stone cell.

  The room’s dimensions were only five feet by eight and there was only one entrance. It had been carved from solid bedrock and they were currently more than a hundred feet underground. Ryan was taking no chances. Even the outer chamber was sealed. Should the worst happen, only the three of them would be at risk.

  Lifting the lid from the sarcophagus Ryan stared down at the meal. A heavyset man lay within, unconscious. A temporary spell kept him asleep and blocked all sensory input from his nerves. There was no need for him to suffer. It was a small mercy. What they were doing was fundamentally evil, but they weren’t cruel.

  “Poor bastard,” said Blake. “Why couldn’t we just have used a sheep or something?”

  According to what Emma was told, they only consume human flesh. When the She’Har redesigned them they silenced the traits that allowed them to devour She’Har trees and added traits that enabled them to devour humans, explained Ryan. He said he would reactivate their original dietary habits, but he didn’t have time to remove the new ones. Besides, the She’Har children are human in most respects and we need to eliminate them as well if we are to succeed.

  “I still feel bad for him.”

  At least he won’t feel it. He’s the only one that will be that lucky.

  Violet turned away, “Please stop talking about it.”

  She walked back into the outer chamber and Ryan followed her. Once there they used their power to slide the large stone slab door that closed the inner chamber into place. Then Ryan took an additional precaution. Removing a heavy roll of lead that had been shaped into something akin to a rope, he wedged it into the crack around the door and melted it into place.

  The inner chamber was sealed.

  “If anything goes wrong we won’t be able to get him out quickly,” noted Violet.

  If anything goes wrong the last thing we want to do is open that door, corrected Ryan.

  Inside the chamber Blake held one of Brigid’s stasis boxes in shaking hands. He shouldn’t be nervous. “This will be easy,” he told himself.

  Placing the small box inside the sarcophagus he took a deep breath and twisted the knob on top, deactivating the stasis and unlocking the box. Removing the small lid he shook the contents out on top of the comatose man and held still.

  A small round, brown skinned fruit rolled out. It came to rest on one side and he could see the crack in its skin. He jumped involuntarily when he saw a hint of movement. A tiny wasp-like creature was worming its way free.

  “Fuck!” He moved to the other side and began shoving the heavy stone lid back into place, but it was heavy and difficult to move. For a split second he started to use his aythar before he caught himself. “Shit.” He shoved harder, adrenaline and fear giving him the strength he needed as he threw his shoulder against the lid.

  With a groan it slid into place.

  Blake spent several minutes checking himself, looking up and down his body to see if anything had escaped before he got the lid into place. Then he searched the floor and walls around the stone coffin, making doubly sure.

  Moving to the door he shouted, “Alright, it’s done. Let me out!” He wasn’t certain if they could hear him
through the thick stone, though. Should I project a mental voice, he wondered. How much aythar does that release? Does it matter now that the lid is on?

  Of course, they had already agreed ahead of time to wait an hour before opening the door, but fear and a new sense of claustrophobia had changed Blake’s mind on that account. A faint rustling sound came from the coffin and he turned to face it.

  “Stay calm, deep breaths,” he told himself. “Everything is fine.”

  Then he heard a muffled scream. The krytek must have destroyed the magic that kept their subject comatose.

  “This was a stupid idea,” said Blake. “Why did I volunteer? I’m never going to do that again.”

  The screaming grew louder, punctuated by solid thumps as the man inside began to jerk, or perhaps beat against the sides of his stony prison.

  Blake wanted to vomit. He felt lightheaded. Am I hyperventilating? He made a conscious effort to slow his breathing. “Everything’s fine. The lid is closed. Everything’s fine, the lid is closed,” he chanted to himself.

  “How many could be in there?” he wondered. It hadn’t been long, five, ten minutes at the most. Surely they couldn’t reproduce that quickly.

  And then he found out.

  With a shuddering thump the lid jumped and slid partly to one side as the occupant threw his body against it from the inside. And then the little wasps began to pour out, flying directly at Blake.

  “No, no, no, no, no!”

  They should have tied it shut, or put straps around it. Hell, he should at least have sat on top. In that moment of clarity Blake knew that. But they hadn’t considered it. The lid was too heavy for someone to lift ordinarily, and the man had been comatose. None of them had known he would awaken, and how strong fear might make their victim.

  They were all over him, crawling up and down his chest, on his shoulders, and walking across the glass in front of his face. The krytek were small, as small as a wheat kernel, but still too large to get through the rings of his mail.

  But what do I do next? Blake realized then that no matter how effective his protective gear was, they couldn’t open the door, not like this, not with the krytek swarming everywhere. He was trapped.