A Bitter Brew

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A Bitter Brew Page 44

by Greg Curtis


  Then again, the woman's husband had tried to murder her!

  Either way she supposed, it wasn't her place to lecture the Lady. So Marnie turned her attention back to Tyrollan. “When do we leave?”

  “Two days. I have some wagon teams coming, and the priests are already making plans for the march. I've already sent some people ahead with what gold we have left to start securing premises.” He began setting out his plans for her.

  “Hello Mother.” Everyone jumped a little as Hendrick's voice unexpectedly came from just behind them just as they were beginning to discuss the journey. “Tyrollan, Marnie.”

  He looked different she thought when she turned around. Better than how he'd been in the healers' tent but still tired and drained. The lines on his face were more pronounced than before. She also thought he looked older. Obviously what he'd done to himself was impacting on his health. But maybe it was just tiredness? Maybe he would recover.

  “Marnie can I ask you for your assistance please?”

  Marnie's jaw dropped in surprise when she heard him say that. Hendrick had never asked for her help before. In fact, she didn't think he'd ever asked anyone for help. “Alright?”

  “This is a piece of the servant that's inside Sana.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stoppered vial with a tiny sliver of ghostly flesh inside it. “Val had the thought that the reason she can't get rid of the dead creature, is because it contains a sort of poison. One that clouds the mind and damages the body's ability to get rid of it like a normal worm.”

  “And?”

  “And you have a spell of antidote. I want you to create one for this.”

  “Oh!” Marnie felt some revulsion at what he was asking of her. Because to use the spell she would have to put a piece of the creature in her mouth. But if the sage was right, maybe she could help. None of her other spells were much use against the servants of the great beast. But if she could help in this way, then that would at least be something. And, though she hated to admit it, he had saved her life along with a million other souls. Wordlessly she reached out her hand for the vial.

  Then when the vial was in her hand, she called the magic to her and tipped the tiny sliver of flesh on to her tongue.

  It was bitter! Beyond bitter. The moment it touched her tongue it almost made her gag. She'd tried cyanide and hemlock. Witchbane and belladonna. And they were all awful. But this thing was even worse. It was more bitter and at the same time more acrid. It was revoltingly pungent and stomach turning. Her immediate impulse was to spit it out as far as she possibly could. But she didn't. Because not only did she understand the importance of what she had been asked to do; she could also feel her spell working.

  Working – but struggling too. Partly because it was so strange. But also because it seemed the spell wasn’t responding to a single poison but to a dozen or more made flesh. And they were all designed to bend the will of the host and twist and warp the host's flesh. It had to be the worst poison she had ever come across. But slowly her magic was winning the battle as one by one it overcame all the different poisons. Finding the perfect sweetness to destroy the bitterness. And it was glorious as her magic was unleashed.

  It took time. A surprising amount of time. But these poisons were not of this world. She could taste that. And her magic had simply never had to deal with such a thing. Still, she persevered. Concentrating. Removing all the distractions from her mind – like the Vitanna worshipping dolt beside her who kept asking her if she was alright.

  And then in one glorious moment she knew she'd done it! She could feel the cure, racing through her entire body. A glorious rush of vitality speeding through her pale green veins, protecting her from the noxious substance. A sweetness such as she could never describe. Hers was a strange gift. One she had almost never used – who poisoned anyone? But still at that moment it felt as wondrous any of her other gifts.

  Marnie spat the remains of the ghostly flesh out – she didn't need it anymore – and then sent the antidote racing through her veins to her fingertip. Moments later she held her finger over the top of the flask, and bled a couple of drops of blood through her skin and into it. It was all he would need.

  “Add a finger of water and make her drink it.” She handed the flask back to Hendrick. “But I don't know if it'll do anything to someone who's actually got one of these creatures inside them. It might even be dangerous.”

  “Thank you.” He nodded to her, turned and was gone.

  As always she found herself amazed by that. Because he hadn’t just entered a portal or turned invisible. He had bent time and space around him so that he could cover scores of leagues in a matter of minutes. That she thought was a useful talent. One that you could use every day. Her gifts weren't nearly so useful. The spell she'd just used she'd never tried before except in practice.

  After he'd gone, Marnie turned back to the others only to discover that Lady Peri had gone. But then she knew, there was a rift between the Lady and her son. One that she doubted either wanted to cross. She turned her thoughts back to the journey.

  “Alright Tyrollan, you can deal with the travel arrangements. I'll talk to the priests. Because Lady Peri's right. If we are going to form ourselves into a guild, then sooner or later we're going to have influence in the realm. And we need to have some clear thought about what that means before we get there. We need to write a charter like other guilds. Set some rules for the use of magic.”

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Setting out what services we can and can't provide. Laws for our members. Establishing a standard charging regimen for our services so people can hire the gifted and know what it's going to cost and what they can expect for their stynes.”

  “We also should formalise things like the meditations, making them a daily part of every single gifted person’s life. We need a library with books of all the spells and histories of those who've had them. Ultimately we'll need a school. The priests can help with that.”

  If they were going to do this she decided, they were going to do it properly. And while it was going to be a lot of hard work, she found herself looking forward to the challenge. Enough that she could finally stop thinking about the giant black crystal ball in front of her and the annoying muck-spout who had just left.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  It was quiet as ever in the twilight world. But the dead were always quiet, and Hendrick was beginning to realise that this was a dead world. The closest thing it had to life was the occasional patch of moss clinging to some of the rocks. And of course, Sana.

  She was, as always, sitting against a rock, waiting for him, her heart filled with insanity and hatred. He doubted that that would ever change. But one thing that had changed was the intensity. Over the previous five days, she had grown quieter. In a normal woman he would have thought that would have simply meant she was growing tired. In her case he doubted it. She didn't get tired. This was instead something of the spirit. The rage was dying and the confusion behind her eyes, growing. Maybe, he dared to hope, now that she was no longer in the same world as her master, she was finally freeing herself from this spell she was under? And if he could free her from the creature inside her, maybe that would help.

  “You're late!” She snapped at him.

  “No. I always come at the same time every day. Your sense of time has slipped in this world with no sun and no stars.”

  “That's true. The great oaf has very few virtues – and he smells like a dung beetle's rear end – but he is punctual.” Val took the opportunity to pass comment as he usually did.

  Hendrick knew it wasn't personal. The sage was just worried. Val didn't want to be here. And he didn't Hendrick to try this. He'd said as much the instant Hendrick had seized on his idea that she'd been poisoned. Val feared that this could go very badly. In fact he'd talked about explosions and wild magic being released and told Hendrick repeatedly that he shouldn't even consider it. Time, he said, was the best answer. But time was what they ne
ver seemed to have enough of. How long would it be before the Behemoth's servants started flying again? Before the dead creature inside her started growing again and re-exerting its full power over her? Before the Great Beast attacked another city – probably Styrion Hearth since the King was on his way there? It was no coincidence that it had struck at the King's cities twice. Hendrick was certain of that.

  “And I suppose you're going to –.”

  Sana's question was answered before she even finished it as Hendrick cast some dimensional restraints on her. They were actually just differently formed dimensional barriers which he could shape into a set of manacles that stopped her moving her arm or her head and bound her to the stone. He always did it. Hendrick knew he had to do it or she would have killed him. If she got her fingers around his throat – or her teeth – he was dead. And despite his death meaning that she would starve to death in this dark, cold world, he knew she would do it. Sometimes she tried to appear calm and even pleasant. But he wasn’t deceived.

  “You know, many men would have other reasons for restraining me!” She did her best to give him a come-hither smile. But then she let it slip when she saw the look of horror on Hendrick's face.

  “Why not? Are you one of those that likes the company of other men? Or is it simply that you don't have the virility of your father?!”

  Hendrick ignored her less than subtle attempts at baiting him. He knew she was only trying to get him to make a mistake. Cautiously he approached her. Hendrick was always cautious around Sana, even though he'd taken the precaution of securing her. He had seen her strength. He knew how dangerous she was. And being anywhere within reach of her remaining arm when it was free meant death. But she couldn't free it, though he could see the way her muscles knotted and writhed as she tried to. She would not give up trying.

  “I've just got some bread and honey I'm afraid. But the bread's fresh at least.”

  “Wine?” She stared at the skein hanging from his shoulder. “Or ale at least? You're supposed to be a brewer!”

  “I told you. The brewery's not running yet. Your little war forced me to stop production for a while. But in another week or two I’ll be back in business. Until then it's just water.”

  Of course it wasn't just water. It was the antidote Marnie had given him, mixed with water. But she had no way of knowing that and she was probably thirsty.

  “Drink?” He put the food down and unstoppered the skein, doing his best to give nothing away. He didn't want her spitting it out.

  “Fine.” She opened her mouth and waited.

  Hendrick raised the skein to her mouth and poured a sip down her throat, making very sure to keep his fingers away from her teeth. He waited until she took her first sip, and then poured some more. Eventually she drank most of the contents.

  Nothing happened immediately. But then it was an antidote, not a spell. It would take a little time. So he spent some of that time feeding her the bread and honey, careful to keep his fingers a safe distance away from her teeth. She'd tried to bite him before, and when her jaws snapped shut they made a remarkably unpleasant noise. One that told him he could lose his fingers very easily.

  “So, tell me about how you met your master.” Having fed her, Hendrick decided to try and talk with her. Sometimes she was in the mood to talk. Usually when she was though, she liked to talk about his many failings and what her master was going to do to him.

  “Why should you care?”

  “I'm curious. Val says there's always a reason that girls go to the beast. Some darkness in their soul. And I know you're afflicted with Illuminium. Is that what drew you to him? Did he offer you something? Freedom from the affliction maybe?”

  “Freedom from my magic?” She smiled cruelly at him as if he was some sort of simpleton. “Why would I want that? Do you want to be free of yours? Because my Lord can make that happen.”

  Hendrick sighed. “Then what did he offer you?”

  “Power. The power to shape my own destiny.” Her smile broadened. “And it was beautiful. He was beautiful.”

  What did that mean, Hendrick wondered? The power to shape her own destiny? Wasn't she already noble born? She surely had all the power she wanted.

  “But you can't remember what he looked like, can you girl?” Val asked her.

  “Of course I remember! He was magnificent. A true King! Not like the worthless old mumblecrust that sits on the throne. He was glorious!”

  “And did he have dark hair or fair? Was his skin pale or dark?”

  Sana didn't answer the sage. Maybe she couldn't. Or maybe she just wouldn't. But even Hendrick noticed the look of confusion that suddenly crossed her face. Followed by the anger that swiftly replaced it. Anger, he was beginning to realise, was a way for her to cover up her other emotions. If she was frightened or uncertain, anger would drive those feelings away.

  “What does it matter, Beast!” She shouted at him. “He was everything a creature like you could never be!”

  “It matters because you never saw him. You heard his call and fell under his spell. But you never saw him. And then, without your permission or awareness he sent his servants to place their eggs in you.” Val was as calm and sad as he had ever been as he said it. “And now it's killing you and you can still think of nothing but that first lie.”

  “How dare you!” She yelled at the sage.

  “How dare I?” the sage asked her, his voice becoming stern. “I speak for the soul of a lost child, sacrificed on the altar of a foul beast. A child so lost she does not even remember what the path home looked like. How dare I not speak up?”

  Val turned to face Hendrick. “I do not want to see this. I told you. This can only end in pain.”

  Hendrick stared back at his friend, worried. Val did not normally make pronouncements like that. And he was almost never wrong. But he also knew he could not force the sage to watch this. He could not be cruel to his friend.

  “As you wish. Question answered.” He released Val to return to his world and then turned back to Sana.

  “You were trapped by your life at home?” He knew little of Sana’s life. Just that she was of the Mirrion family. An ancient lineage that stretched back almost to the days of the founding of Styrion. And that they had a city named for them. But he guessed from what she'd said that life for a girl might not have been easy. Especially if she had been afflicted. More so if that affliction was hidden. He had been cast out for his affliction after all. Unlike him, she was the family's only child. To cast her out would have been to end the family line. And she had told him that she had been locked away while wise men and scoundrels had tried to remove the affliction.

  “I feel strange.” She stared at him, confused. “Hot.”

  “Hot?” He hadn't expected that. Least of all in this cold world. But Hendrick guessed it might be the antidote finally beginning to take effect.

  “My baby. It's in trouble.”

  “That creature inside you is dead. It has been for months.”

  It was dead, wasn't it? The thing had no head. Nothing survived once its head had been torn off. It had to be dead. And yet it had grown wings and limbs even after it was dead. And she had been taken back by the beast. That had to mean something.

  “It hurts!” Sana cried out at him, as if expecting him to do something. And then she started screaming with pain

  “It's dead. It can't possibly hurt anymore.”

  Sana though disagreed. And then once she'd started screaming, she didn’t stop.

  “What's wrong?!” He shouted at her, suddenly worried. This wasn't supposed to happen. The remains of that thing inside her were supposed to finally die completely, freeing her. Not this. It wasn't supposed to hurt her. And yet clearly it was.

  Sana didn't answer him. She just kept screaming and struggling impotently against her bonds. No amount of force would overcome a dimensional barrier. The rock she was chained to however, wasn't so strong. And as she screamed and writhed and threw herself against it again and again, he
could see cracks appearing in it and dust rising. Sooner or later it would give way.

  “Sweet Vitanna!” Hendrick backed away and watched helplessly as her titanic struggle with her bonds continued, and the rock slowly gave way. Her broken body began almost tying itself in knots in front of him. He wanted to step in and end her suffering. But he couldn't. He had no way of stopping whatever was happening.

  What had he done?! It had seemed like such a clever idea. But as she kept screaming and struggling against her restraints, he was beginning to think that it had been a horrible mistake.

  Finally the rock gave way in a cloud of dust, and she was partly free. Quickly, Hendrick bound her in new dimensional restraints. Ones that weren't attached to the bedrock beneath her. And then he continued to watch her. He was worried.

 

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