Belle and the Prophecy of Bane

Chapter 9

After about five minutes of listening to the shiners, Belle was considering throwing herself overboard. Her head was aching, her ears rang with the insects' incessant bickering, and she was sure that this was what torture felt like. The two shiners really were unbelievable! They argued about where they would sit, about who would take the first shift--they even argued about whose servant Temp would be, because he was obviously just a no-account crawler and should be treated as such.

That is, until Temp himself spoke up, with uncharacteristic force, "Only the princess, Temp serves, only the princess."

In a desperate attempt to quiet the maddening arguing for a while, Mareth served dinner, but the shiners just quarreled about one another's table manners.

"Must you talk with your mouth full, Zap?" Photos Glow-Glow moaned indignantly. "It kills my appetite."

"This from someone who just sat in his milk!" Zap returned hotly. She was apparently right, as Photos Glow-Glow's bottom began to glow an angry red. He promptly turned away, pouting and chomping on a mushroom in silence.

"Are they always like this?" Gregor whispered to Belle.

"In truth, these are not as bad as some I have seen," she murmured in return. "Once, I saw a pair try to fight to the death over a piece of cake."

"Try to?" asked Gregor.

"They are not capable fighters, and they tire rather quickly. They just accused one another of cheating and gave up. Then they sulked for several days," replied Belle.

"Do we really need them?"

Belle sighed. "Unfortunately, yes."

Even Boots, who had stationed herself a short way from Belle and Gregor, seemed aggravated by the newcomers. "Fo-Fo, too loud!" she chastised, tugging on one of the shiner's wings. "Shh, Fo-Fo!"

"Fo-Fo? Fo-Fo? I am he called Photos Glow-Glow, and will answer to no other name!" he said loudly and arrogantly.

"She is only a child," Belle said, coming to Boots's defense. "She cannot pronounce your name."

"Then I cannot understand her!" Photos Glow-Glow spat.

"Allow me to translate," said Twitchtip's voice from the next boat, and Belle looked at her in surprise. "She said that if you don't stop your incessant babble, that big rat sitting in the boat next to you will rip your head off."

The silence that followed was blissful. Belle felt the first trickle of actual friendliness toward Twitchtip.

They were far out over the Waterway now. The few torches had been extinguished upon the shiners' arrival, and their glow only illuminated the immediate area. Belle watched as Gregor flicked on his flashlight and swept its beam over the water. There was no land in sight. He clicked the light off again.

Belle had settled herself beside Ares. Bastet was curled up in the usual clump of bats, dozing, but Ares sat alone. Bastet was the only one who would welcome him warmly, so tonight Belle was his only companion. She sat, nestled in his wings, staring into the darkness and pretending she could see the stars.

Gregor sat down next to them.

"Hey," he said in greeting. "Do you guys know how long it will take us to get to the Labyrinth in this boat?"

"At least five days," Ares answered. "If we flew, we could make it in less time, but it is believed that very few bats could make the journey. No one has ever tried it."

"I bet you could make it," Gregor said. Belle believed it. Henry had not only chosen Ares for his bond because of his 'bad boy' reputation; Ares was also impressively strong and swift.

"I have thought that I might try it someday, to see if I could accomplish it," Ares admitted, resting his chin atop Belle's head.

"Like Lindbergh," said Gregor. "He's the first guy who flew across the Atlantic Ocean by himself."

"He had wings?" asked Ares.

"Mechanical ones," explained Belle, joining in. "He had an airplane, a flying machine."

"Yeah," said Gregor. "And now people fly across the ocean all the time in great big planes, but they didn't when Lindbergh flew."

"He is famous, in the Overland?" asked Ares curiously.

"Yeah. Well, he's dead now, but he was real famous. People were mad at him, too. Because of something about a war," said Gregor.

For a few minutes, they were all quiet, and Belle's thoughts wandered. Eventually, she found herself thinking of "The Prophecy of Bane."

Die the baby, die their hearts, for each their most essential part.

She looked over at Boots. The little girl was quietly singing "Row, Row, Row Your Boat" as she drummed patiently on Temp's shell. She was so perfect, in the way very small children are, and so innocent. How could anything be solved with her death? And yet Belle knew that at that very moment, hundreds of rats were scouring the Underland intent on killing this child.

"Can rats swim?" Gregor asked suddenly, as if reading her mind.

"Yes," Belle replied. "But not as far out as we are. The rats cannot reach her here."

"Have you ever killed a rat, Belle?"

"Not alone. With Bastet, yes."

Gregor paused. "How...how do you do it?" he asked awkwardly. "I mean, where exactly is it best to...where do you stab it?" The words sounded strange in his mouth.

"The neck is vulnerable," said Belle, her voice heavy. "The heart, but one must get past the ribs. Through the eyes to the brain. Under the foreleg is a vein that bleeds greatly. If you strike at the belly, you may not kill instantly, but the...enemy will likely die within days from infection."

"I see," said Gregor, looking like he really didn't see at all.

Belle knew how he felt. She just couldn't see herself really doing it--killing the Bane, that is. It felt surreal, like a dream. Or more appropriately, like a nightmare.

"Is it okay if I'm riding you?" said Gregor, addressing Ares. "Or do I have to be on the ground?"

"I will be there, if it is at all possible," said Ares. He held Belle a little tighter. "For both of you."

"Thanks," Gregor replied. "And...I'm sorry. That I got you into this mess."

"You also freed me of one," said Ares, and they left it at that.

Mareth called everyone to eat then. The shiners ate as if it were their last meal, though they had been fed barely ten minutes before.

After everyone had eaten, Mareth lowered the sails in their boat and hooked the front of it to the back of Howard's craft with a tow rope. "Howard and I will take turns sailing the lead boat while the rest sleep. But we need someone on guard and one shiner on duty at all times."

"Zap will take the first shift," said Photos Glow-Glow lazily. "My light requires more energy."

"It is a lie!" howled Zap. "He can make more than one color, but the effort is the same! He just says this so that he will be given more food and less work!"

"Photos Glow-Glow will take the first shift," Twitchtip declared, "or I'll shred his wings into ribbons." So it was settled. "Who wants to watch with him?"

Gregor volunteered and settled himself beside the shiner.

In the lead boat, Howard took his place by the rudder to steer while his bat folded her wings to sleep. Twitchtip, who had barely moved since their departure, closed their eyes. Zap's soft yellow light faded out, and she began to snore.

Mareth stretched out on the floor beside Andromeda, while Photos Glow-Glow lit on the bow in front of them and turned his bulb to a steady orange glow.

Belle and Ares lay curled together in the stern, Boots sandwiched between them and Temp lying calmly at their feet. Bastet put with her back to Belle's and shut her eyes.

Belle hadn't slept soundly in days, so she drifted off almost at once. She didn't have a single dream.