Betrayer's Bane

by Michael G. Manning

  “What do we do?” said Kate, beginning to panic.

  “We can’t run,” observed Lyra. “Drop the sound barrier, Layla.”

  “…the shield immediately, or I’ll be forced to take matters into my own hands!” came the last half of Emma’s command as Layla modified her shield.

  “Take Inara,” said Lyra, handing the small girl to Layla. “Then lower the veil, I’ll talk to her. If it goes badly cloak yourself and Kate again. Perhaps I can distract them long enough for you to escape.”

  “That’s stupid,” complained Layla.

  “Just do it.”

  A second later they were visible again. After the prolonged darkness, the moonlight seemed brilliant, almost dazzling. Emma and Ryan stood fifteen feet ahead of them, with one of the Prathion slave-mages beside them. Above and slightly behind them the two wall sentries watched silently.

  Emma looked triumphant rather than angry, “I knew you’d show your true colors.”

  “Kate needs help,” said Lyra. “If she doesn’t get it she’ll…”

  “And I’ll give her all the aid I can,” interrupted Emma, “but we aren’t bringing any outsiders into this.”

  “It won’t be enough,” protested Lyra. “Let me take them to…”

  “They aren’t leaving, and neither are you and that little abomination you have brewing in your belly.”

  Em, please… came Ryan’s thought, carrying with it a feeling of concern.

  “What are you saying?” shouted Kate angrily. “Lyra’s baby is just as human as mine. They’re both Tyrion’s children. Why are you doing this Emma?”

  “Go back to the house, Kate,” said Emma flatly. She held something in her hands, and whatever it was cast glints of moonlight occasionally as she moved. “You don’t need to be here for this.”

  “The hell I don’t!” growled Kate. “Have you lost your mind? Is that why you came alone? I don’t see any of the others. Is that because you know they wouldn’t support you?”

  “I didn’t need to bring anyone,” countered Emma. “Ryan is here as a witness.”

  Kate’s temper got the better of her, “Oh, you brought your incestuous lap dog as a witness! How thoughtful of you. Get out of the way and let us go. You know Daniel wouldn’t want you doing any of this, so why don’t you stop being an idiot?”

  Emma jerked as though she had been slapped, and then her body tensed.

  Everything happened at once. Emma’s face grew smooth and her hands opened. A small array of small sharp objects fanned out on either side of her, triangular pieces of metal that looked very much like spear heads, except that they had no shaft attached.

  At the same time, Lyra raised a spellwoven shield around the three of them and the two children. Layla dropped the two children and vanished.

  Emma, no! Ryan’s mental voice sounded like a shout as it echoed in their minds.

  Something flashed and Lyra jerked as her shield broke. Layla reappeared in front of her and slowly collapsed to the ground. The fluid running down her shirt looked black in the moonlight. One of the metallic weapons was buried in the center of her chest.

  “Layla?” said Emma in shock. “Why did she do that?!”

  Pandemonium ensued. Both Inara and Eldin were wailing at their sudden fall and Ryan was pulling at Emma. Kate watched it all in silence, shocked and numb. She wanted to reach down to help Layla, but her belly made it nearly impossible and her head was throbbing.

  But Lyra didn’t hesitate. Her hands were up and something deadly was forming between them. There was a look of rage on her face that none of them had ever seen before. Her spellweave lashed out, lancing toward Emma—and then disintegrated as Brigid’s chain cut through it.

  She had arrived unnoticed and now she faced Lyralliantha, “Don’t give me an excuse.” Brigid’s chain hovered dangerously close to the She’Har woman. Then she turned to Emma, “Things seem to have gotten out of hand, Sister. You should have invited me if you were planning a party.”

  Emma shoved Ryan away and glared at her. “Your assistance is neither needed nor desired.”

  Brigid looked down at Layla. It was too late for her, the weapon had nicked her heart. Her eyes glazed over as the former warden feebly stretched out her hand, trying to reach her son. Something flickered across Brigid’s features, an emotion perhaps, but it was gone too quickly for Kate to decide what it had been. The dark haired young woman turned her attention to the two children and gathered them up awkwardly.

  It was clear that she hadn’t had much experience holding toddlers. Inara squirmed awkwardly and Eldin somehow found himself upside down in her arms. “You should be more careful, First,” she admonished her sister. “You wouldn’t want to hurt the children.”

  Kate was still trying to absorb Layla’s death and she fell as she tried to get on her knees to examine her. Her vision was dim and the world seemed darker than ever. “Why?”

  Lyra looked at Brigid, “Kate needs help. She will die if I am not allowed to take her to Koralltis.”

  “You would betray us!” snarled Emma.

  Brigid ignored her, “Take her and go. The children will stay as a safeguard for your good behavior.”

  Kate looked up, observing the tension in the two young women’s shoulders. Latent violence hung heavy in the air. “No, let me take them with me.”

  Lyra put her arms under her shoulders and using a combination of muscle and magic she helped get Kate upright. “We should go, while we can,” she said softly.

  “You’re badly mistaken if you think I’m letting them leave,” said Emma sternly as she faced Brigid. “I am the one in charge here.”

  “Accidents happen,” said Brigid casually. “I’d hate for one to happen to you, First.” The statement was spoiled slightly as Eldin slipped partway through her right arm and she wound up holding him by one foot. The boy found it humorous apparently, for he stopped crying and began to laugh.

  The metal points hovering around Emma quivered slightly as her anger grew, but Ryan stepped forward, “Don’t threaten her, Brigid. She is the First.”

  “Only if she’s alive,” answered Brigid as she appraised him with her eyes. “Two against one, normally that’s good odds. Would you like to chance it?” She let Eldin slide the rest of the way to the ground, headfirst, and then she bent casually and sat Inara beside him. There was a dangerous light in her eyes as she straightened up again.

  Emma took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. “Go,” she ordered at last.

  Lyra wasted no time. Levitating Kate completely off the ground she began walking quickly in the direction of the grove.

  “Don’t think this is over,” Emma warned Brigid. “I won’t forget this.”

  Brigid smiled, “I wouldn’t want you to.”

  Emma turned away, heading back toward the dormitory. Ryan started to gather up the children but she barked, “Leave them. If she wants hostages she can take care of them herself.”

  Brigid’s confidence vanished and her face took on a look of appeal as she looked at Ryan, but he merely shrugged. She stared down at the two infants. They were much larger than they had once been, almost toddlers they were of a size that they were no longer easy to carry but they weren’t able to confidently walk yet.

  Eldin promptly sat down and slapped the growing puddle of blood on the ground before crawling over to peer into his mother’s face. He had no comprehension of what had happened to her. Brigid felt her insides twist uncomfortably, “Shit.”

  ***

  Kate floated through the dark. Lyralliantha was a pale ghost in the moonlight ahead of her. It was a surreal experience, or it should have been, but the night air brought an uncomfortable touch of reality, that and the numbness in her feet and lower legs.

  It wasn’t a numbness brought on by the cold but something that had been affecting her off and on for days. Sometimes it was her hands, and other times it would be her legs. But Kate wasn’t paying attention to any of that at the moment. All of that was se
condary to the vision in her head. All she could see was Layla’s body, once a picture of strength and vitality, falling slowly to the ground.

  The former warden had always seemed invincible to her, much like Tyrion. Layla had been a fact of life. True, she was strange, with odd tempers and a twisted worldview, but she had been a constant presence. The woman had been possessed of an almost unshakeable confidence that combined, at times almost comically, with her complete ignorance of what Kate had thought were basic human skills.

  She couldn’t be dead.

  The flow of cold air around Kate lessened and then she realized that Lyra had stopped. Shadowy movement alerted her to the fact that they were no longer alone. Several large forms stepped out of the darkness around them. Strange creatures that should have frightened her, but Kate was too tired to care.

  It was the krytek.

  Lyra spoke to them in that strange language that Kate had never managed to learn. The conversation was brief and then she turned to Kate, “They will escort us to the Prathion Grove.”

  “Who are they?” asked Kate in confusion. They had barely left Albamarl. It was much too soon to be encountering the She’Har.

  “Krytek, sent by my people.”

  “The She’Har?”

  “The Illeniels,” corrected Lyra.

  “You asked them to meet you here?”

  “No.”

  Kate’s forehead wrinkled in confusion, “Then how?”

  “My people are never surprised. The Elders sent them to ensure our safe arrival.”

  What about Layla? thought Kate. She wasn’t safe. Why hadn’t they met them sooner? Her friend might still be alive if they had. She had a million questions and somewhere deep down she felt the beginnings of an angry spark, but she was too tired to examine it yet.

  The cold air increased in speed as Lyralliantha towed her along, moving constantly in the direction of the Prathion Grove.

  Chapter 31

  Emma wanted to die.

  She was sitting in her room, staring at the wall. Inside her emotions were tearing at her, demanding that she get up, that she do something, anything, to alleviate the guilt she felt, but she was paralyzed. She had killed Layla.

  She had never particularly liked the woman, but she hadn’t hated her either. Many of her brothers and sisters had liked her, though, and she certainly hadn’t deserved to die.

  But I killed her.

  The others had already begun to doubt her sanity. She had seen the looks. That had been going on for weeks now. Her latest blunder would only serve to confirm their fears. Even Ryan was beginning to distrust her.

  They must hate me, she thought. Hell, she hated herself. Seeing Eldin and Inara crying while Layla died in front of her, that had shocked her to the core, but she couldn’t afford to show any sign of weakness. The only thing that kept the others in line was their fear. If they knew she had her own doubts, that she hated herself just as much as they did, they would tear her apart.

  And that would be the end of the dream.

  The dream was all that mattered anymore. She had lost everything else already. She lost her quiet life when Tyrion came and took her from Colne, she lost her innocence when she had been forced to kill in the arena, and she had lost her hope when she had seen Ryan maimed. Ryan’s love, right or wrong, had been the only thing she had left to live for, but now she could feel him pulling away from her.

  As loathsome as his face had become, she was uglier still.

  How did I get here?

  Tyrion was easy to blame. It was his weakness that had brought her into the world, but he wasn’t the source. His mistakes had created her particular situation, but it was the She’Har that had ultimately brought this misery upon her, upon them. Even if she hadn’t been born, even if she hadn’t been cursed, someone would be suffering for their arrogance, cruelty, and selfishness.

  She fingered her blades, feeling the cool strength present in the metal. They were designed in a similar manner to Brigid’s chains. They would only respond to her aythar and they made her particular skill at rapid fire ranged attacks far deadlier. She could have killed Brigid last night.

  She almost did.

  But then she would have lost everything. Ryan might have tried to stop her, and she couldn’t allow that. In the end she probably would have killed everyone, and that would have been certain to cause her plans to unravel. The dream would have died there.

  When it was all over the world would be free. Humankind, the small portion of it left, would be able to start anew. All the suffering, all the evil done, by herself and by those who had forced her to it, would be given at least a tiny bit of meaning, if it meant the people of the future could find their own happiness.

  She wouldn’t get to enjoy it, of course. She didn’t deserve to, her soul had been blackened just as surely as her father’s. Only death could release her from her inner torment, but she wouldn’t accept the call of the grave until she had made certain that she had finished his task.

  “What does it matter if they hate me?” she asked aloud. “Most of them are going to die anyway.” Practically everyone around her was a walking corpse. They were dead, they just didn’t know it yet.

  ***

  Eldin grabbed at the shiny metal of the chain again. He was fascinated by the way it moved through the air, but his fingers slid away from it whenever he tried to grasp it.

  “Stop that,” ordered Brigid, not that she expected him to obey. The little boy was a handful. While Inara sat quietly, playing with whatever was close at hand, he was constantly in motion. Everything needed to be touched, and whatever he touched needed to be put in his mouth. “Why can’t you be more like her?” she asked him.

  He looked up at her. “Baa!”

  With a sigh she picked him up but regretted it immediately. As usual he grabbed at her breast and tried to suckle, but there was nothing there for him. It was also an unpleasant sensation for her. She pulled him away. “How did they put up with you?” She was giving serious thought to wearing shirts again, just to keep him away from her chest.

  Feeding the two of them was a problem, but thankfully they were old enough to eat real food, if she chewed it for them. Goat’s milk had been the first thing she had given them, but it held its own problems. They drank it greedily and usually vomited most of it up afterward.

  As a result, they smelled of sour milk, among other things.

  A knock at the door was a welcome relief. Brigid opened it to find Abby standing in the hall. She stared at her sister with a look of hope and desperation. “Have you come to take them away?”

  Abby’s nose wrinkled at the smell in the room, but she managed to smile anyway, “No. I just wanted to check on you.”

  “Oh,” said Brigid, losing interest almost immediately.

  Abby’s eyes assessed the room and the state of the toddlers with a long sweeping glance. “They need a bath.”

  Brigid shrugged, “Why bother? They’ll just crap on themselves as soon as they’re clean, or spit milk all over themselves.”

  “You’re letting them get too much,” said Abby.

  “It doesn’t matter. A little or a lot, they spit it up most of the time anyway.”

  “Are you burping them afterward?” asked her sister.

  “Huh?”

  Abby spent the next half an hour showing her. When she put little Eldin across her shoulder and began gently patting him on the back Brigid warned her, “He’s just going to puke sooner if you beat on him.”

  “That’s what the rag is for,” explained Abby. “If you do it right he’ll bring up the air and keep most of the milk.”

  Sure enough, the little boy burped after a couple of minutes. A little milk came up, but it was nothing like his usual explosive belches of sour foulness.

  “You try it now. Inara is still waiting,” suggested Abby.

  Brigid did.

  “Not so hard,” cautioned her sister. “It doesn’t take much. Be patient and she’ll burp when she’s
ready.”

  After a while Inara let out a small burp of air, but nothing else. Brigid stared at Abby in amazement. “How did you know all this?”

  “I had several smaller siblings at home, before coming here,” answered Abby.

  For the first time, Brigid felt a pang of jealousy for Abby’s calm knowledge. Handling the two small children was hard. “I don’t know how they did it,” she commented.

  “Did what?”

  “Took care of these two all day,” Brigid clarified.

  “There’s more than one kind of strength,” said Abby. “The most important kinds often go unnoticed.”

  Brigid stared at her for a long minute, thinking. “You should be the one to do this. I’m not suited for it.”

  Abby smiled, “That may be true, but you can learn. I have other things that need doing.”

  Her eyes narrowed, “Such as?”

  “People have to eat.”

  “We just fed them.”

  “Not them,” explained Abby, “everyone else. With Kate and Lyra gone there’s no one to organize the meals.”

  “Let the First do it,” said Brigid sarcastically. “She used to love to cook.”

  “Emma is in a bad place,” said Abby. “I don’t think she’ll be cooking again for a long time, if ever.”

  “She killed Layla,” said Brigid, “the bitch doesn’t deserve to feel good about herself.”

  Abby flinched, but said nothing. After a moment she spoke, “Let me show you how to bathe them.”

  “You think she was right to do that?” said Brigid in a challenging tone.

  Her sisters face was smooth as she looked directly into her eyes, “I think I am as much to blame for Layla’s death as she is. I have supported her through all of this. I only hope she can hold herself together long enough to finish what he started.”

  “It’s supposed to be them that we are killing,” said Brigid. “Layla was one of us.”

  “Murder is wrong, Brigid,” said Abby firmly. “Everything we are doing is wrong. We have given up any right to judge. Layla’s death was an accident. I’ve given up trying to be good, or justify my actions, or hers. It doesn’t matter if we’re killing each other, or killing the She’Har. It’s wrong.”