A Stifling Protection

How many bugs could a direhound kill? Ooliri --- Ooliri of all people --- was able to knock down one of Unodha's dogs with his baton. He had his brother's help, sure, but then it took one stab from Firha to finish the thing. (If his recounting is right, that is, but would Ooliri have embellished killing something?) Awelah shakes her head. So, Unodha's dogs had to be something a town could defend itself from without needing vesperbanes' help, right? The danger of direhounds is that they come in packs, anyway. There's only one left, now. Yet she had watched that very hound undergo that same muscle-crawling enlargement its master could provoke --- all on its own. Something Makuja had thought was impossible without a spell, Unodha's own spell. Was that direhound casting a spell on its own? But it's impossible for a direhound to be host to the vespers, wield the vespertine arts. Impossible for any direbeast. But not a myxogoth. Awelah tightens for a moment, remembers where her spear is. That was impossible right? Just an obscure myth? Maybe Unodha dying had disrupted whatever hold she had, sent her spell into misbehaving. Awelah breathes in, abdomen rising. Did it matter? Myxogoth or miscast, what would Awelah do? Yanseno insinuated Awelah was selfish --- willing to enact personal justice and nothing more. He had to be wrong, and she had to show him that. How many bugs could a direhound kill? Awelah wondered. Now, she asks a better question: how many bugs can I save by acting? Awelah drops from her perch in Boleheva's office, feet sinking into the carpet. Carpet, and this town hall has dirt floors. No layer of grime dwells in between the cloth fibers, nor discolors its red and light gray pattern. Well, except for the dirt Awelah's sandals are tracking now. She looks up, where a red roach is waiting at the threshold. Her large maxillae are crossed. "Finished your fascination with the floor? You've been sitting there far too long. It's time to go." Awelah nods, mind far from the floors or the roach secretary. What would she say to Ooliri, to Makuja, in order for them to act alongside her? "Be a dear and tell your friends to get lost with you while I close up. It'll save me some breath." Ruby closes the door. Reaching the two other members of Team Duskborn means walking past Yanseno. Right now, he's calling over to Mogs: "Look," he says. "I'm not gonna be your minder. I'm letting you off the hook, just get back here tomorrow, right?" Yanseno balances the black glass of his sensor ball on one dactyl, another dactyl grazing it, spinning the orb. "Remember: I'm a sensor, so it's not a question of whether I'll find you, it's how much of my time you waste. And I charge by the hour." The pale nymph walks on past. Ooliri is beside the maverick, but Makuja is perching by the door. If Awelah can get the red nymph on her side, Ooliri will come along too. Or truly, she didn't even need to go far. Ooliri stands and starts trailing after Awelah just as she passes. "Do you know what's going on?" Awelah waits until Makuja is in hearshot of her low murmur. The red nymph's head turns, auricles flaring. "The direhound is back," Awelah says. "We need to finish it." "You say we, but you mean me," Makuja says. "I can still use my spear." Ooliri turns to her at that, maxillae opening, His palps ghost his file, perhaps considering avenues of objection --- you shouldn't be using your spear, he could say, or we shouldn't be doing something so dangerous. But Ooliri takes a different approach: "We shouldn't do it alone. There are other vesperbanes here." Then he stops. "Would Boleheva even need our help? Is --- is this what she left to do? Then it doesn't seem like she wants us to---" "It's our fault," Awelah says. "We brought it here. It---" She doesn't get a chance to finish, because Yanseno has stopped his conversation with Mogs, and in a single stride, crossed the distance to stand behind Awelah. "What was that?" he asks. "It's following us," Awelah finishes, her voice not raising nor her dictation quickening, as if in defiance of Yanseno's intimidation. "Hunting us. If we go out there, it'll seek us instead of the bees. We can save them." "You're very important, aren't you?" Awelah scowls. "Look, everything you said might be true. Might explain some things. But you forgot what I said this morning. Mother anteater means father anteater. I watched Boleheva read the letter. She wasn't thinking about a direhound, she was thinking about a direanter." Direbeast is all she said, Awelah recalls with a spike of embarrassment. Awelah taps her palps, but no response materializes. "Then we shall not be getting in her way," Makuja says. "Boleheva can hunt the anteater, and we can find Vilja." Find, Awelah notes. Not hunt, not kill, not even stop. "You aren't getting in her way, yeah." Yanseno says. "You've got a room at the inn, and I'm taking you there." "Why do you care," Awelah says. "Let us take out the direhound. If you think we can do it, we get rid of a problem. If you think we can't... that also gets rid of a problem, doesn't it?" There's an edge that creeps into her voice. "I gave you the wrong impression, didn't I?" He shakes his head. "I don't care about every tragedy I see. Takes a hard heart. But I'm not heartless. I'm not going to let a couple of fresh fevered kids throw themselves at the world when you --- literally! --- can't cast a spell to save your life." "So come with us, then," Makuja says. "They can be the bait, and you and I will be the teeth of the trap." "I don't work for free. Right now, the extent of the problem is some howls in the air at night. Direhound hasn't attacked anyone besides yourself, and you say it's got a special grudge against you. There's easier prey in those woods, and I think the dog will do the smart thing, at least till it catches a whiff of you. Boleheva will be back tomorrow, and there's nothing breathing down our necks to do something tonight. Relax a little --- would think you three would be anxious for beds after shades stuck in the wild." Yanseno starts toward the door. Behind him, Awelah is mumbling. (Her voice is quiet, but can he hear anyway?) "Does someone have to die before you'll do anything?" ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ooliri climbs down the trap door. The tavern, with a shuttered look from shafts of sunlight, has a bug sitting at almost every table. The whole room seems to pause when the vesperbanes enter, heads turning, voices quieting. The mood is... expectant. Do they think we'll do something? The quiet means they hear the distant patter of steps, see a green nymph climbing up from downstairs. With timing that perfect... Ooliri frowns. "Did she know when we'd arrive?" In front of him, Yanseno glances back to reveal a quirked palp. "Don't worry about it." "Nouspell?" Yan clicks mandibles, then nods. "No need to answer if you're quick enough to figure it out yourself, ha." The pale nymph is beside Ooliri. "You said you could read minds," Awelah says. "Does that mean you know that --- know what I'm thinking?" Yanseno points at a spinner ant. That one is draped in cloth, colorful stands woven across the surface of the cloth, but it's... hugging? kissing? It's touching another ant, and there's no convenient sheet to read off of. "Way the myweft is woven means something. Can you tell me what it says?" "No." "But you can see it, can't you? Make out the different strands and symbols? Why not tell me what it means?" "I don't understand antscript." "Every mind is its own language," Yanseno concludes. "Being a connectique means being a code breaker for a script with no translator. I'm not bad at it, give me a few sessions and I could answer your question --- but like I keep saying, I charge by the hour." Awelah breathes out at that. "Still, don't need any special insight to know you plan on sneaking out tonight, right?" The green nymph has crossed the distance, stands before the maverick with a smile now giving way to puzzlement. "Why's that?" Quessa asks. "Awelah still wants to risk her life against a direhound for no good reason, and I haven't prevailed sense on her." She glances at the pale nymph and gives her a smile. "That sounds heroic!" "Not if it's ineffective and unnecessary," Yanseno says. Quessa tilts her head. "What if I helped?" A sigh, almost completely muffled by his trenchcoat. "Not you too." The green nymph frowns, but before she can reply, her gaze lowers, looking past the imago. At the entrance he stepped through a moment ago, a new bug is at their heels. Quessa smiles. "Bites Water, was it?" says the maverick. Looking back at the girl, he says, "This one was asking about you earlier." "Right," she says. "There's something you can help me with, in fact! But," --- she looks at Awelah --- "I should probably show you your room? They didn't have one with more than two beds, so there's a cot---" "Not it," Awelah says. "Nor I," Makuja says. They both look to Ooliri, his golden antennae twisting. "Can we rotate, at least?" Yanseno, having lost interest in the conversation or seizing the opportunity to ditch the nymphs, has stepped over towards the bar where a dirt-red mantis glances up. "Looks like I'll need something with energy," he starts. After that, Ooliri turns to see the green nymph waving to him --- she and the other girls have slowly started walking, and the ant steps along with antennae working. They advance and there's silence, at least until they reach the ramp, and then Quessa is whispering. "I can maybe help you three sneak out, if you still want to. But if we do this... I can't tell you the plan." "Why not?" "Yanseno can't read my mind, and I'll know if he tries. It's safer! Also, I can be cool and mysterious. All the strongest vesperbanes have secrets," she says. "So we just have to trust that you mean it and you're not just going to tell him behind our back