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“Charlie, prop that piece over there.” McBrid had already spoken with the Guard about not using the words trap or cage, even though he didn’t quite believe the little Brush-Man could understand them. Unlike Fersia who’d once been a House Servant, this creature had been born a Brush-Man.
“Way over here?” asked Charlie.
“Yep.” He was building a cage around the small cage.
The Guard gave him a disbelieving look but propped one side of the cage at least three feet away from the trap.
“What do you want me to do with these?” Louis held up the other four pieces.
“Lean them against the wall.” He pointed across the room.
“Over there?” Louis was as confused as his brother.
“Yes, and then let’s go.” He bent, putting a decent sized piece of meat in the small trap.
The two Guards followed him out of the lab.
“Sir,” said Charlie. “I don’t understand how that’s going...”
He put his finger to his lips for a second. “Follow me.”
He almost led them to Fersia’s room. It was the safest place for them to talk. Everyone and everything feared the Araneas, but Louis was still very uncomfortable around her. Fersia was friends with Charlie not his brother.
He led them to his office and closed the door. “Have a seat.”
The two Guards sat, still uneasy at this informality even after all these months of working with him.
He grabbed three bottles of water from a small refrigerator and handed one to each Guard before opening his.
He sat at his desk. “The Brush-Man is too smart to go into that small trap.”
“It’s big for him,” said Charlie.
“I thought that too, but it’s been days and he hasn’t gotten used to it enough to go inside. Instead, he always uses some tool to pull the meat to him.” That itself was amazing.
“How’s a broken cage going to trap him?” Louis took a gulp of his water.
“We’ll put it together one piece at a time.” His uncle had suggested this, having read about it in one of the ancient texts. “For the past few days, I’ve been cutting back on the amount of meat I leave for him. He should be good and hungry tonight. He’ll be scared of the one side of the cage, but since it’s so far away and not closed I believe he’ll still go for the food.”
“And then tomorrow we put up another piece?” Louis glanced at his brother still confused.
“Not that soon. We’ll give it a few days. I’ll cut back on his food again. When we put up another piece, I’ll offer him a big hunk of meat. We’ll repeat the process until the last piece is in place.”
“Could work,” said Louis.
“I don’t know.” Charlie leaned forward, his leg bouncing with excitement. “That Brush-Man is smart. He’ll see the wire hooked to the food, just like last time. He’ll understand that it will make the last side of the cage drop. He won’t go for it.”
“That’s very good thinking, Charlie, but you haven’t seen this cage.” He was proud of the Guard. All the reading Charlie did was helping him to think and ponder ideas and choices. “The last piece, the trap door, will be up high. The Brush-Man will probably notice it, but he won’t realize that it drops.”
“He’ll be nervous.”
“You could be right, but we’ll leave it open for a while. Let him get used to it and then I’ll wait nearby and spring the trap when our little friend is busy eating.”