The Core

by Peter V. Brett

  Cera glanced at Jone, the two women seeming to hold an entire conversation with their eyes. After what seemed an eternity, Cera turned back and gave a brief nod. “What can we do?”

  “Gather the Servants and any council members who remember their wardcraft lessons from the Mothers’ School,” Elissa said. “We’ll need ink, paint, every strip of white cloth in the keep, and anything that could be used as a weapon. Broomsticks, fire pokers, rolling pins, whatever you can find.” As she spoke, her eyes were running across the walltop wards. The keep was high above the city wardnet, and there were additional wind wards to keep those demons from swooping into the keep at night. An idea began to form—grisly, but perhaps effective.

  “What good will broomsticks do against demons?” Jone asked.

  “Feedback magic strengthens items,” Elissa said. “A broomstick might snap if you strike a man with it, but one with impact wards along its length will be strong as steel while the wards are charged. Anything long enough can be sharpened to a point with piercing wards to hold demons back.”

  “You expect Mothers to fight hand-to-hand?” Cera was incredulous.

  “Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” Elissa said, “but hope is in short supply. If they break past the outer defenses, we don’t have time to pretend women can’t swing their arms to save their own lives. Now, can someone take me down to the cellars?”

  —

  Elissa leaned over the wall of Gold Manse to look down the sheer drop as the sun set. Mother Cera, Stasy, and Jone leaned over the crenellations next to her.

  In wardsight she could see demons appear on the chasm floor below as soon as the shadows were deep enough, but they did not rise from mist. They poured from fissures in the ground around the collapsed bridge supports.

  “They’ve been in the city all day.” The thought made Elissa’s chest tighten, and she labored to keep her breathing even.

  “Night,” Stasy whispered.

  “If your adopted son really is the Deliverer, Elissa,” Cera said, “now is the time for him to appear.”

  “I would be happy to be proven wrong, in that regard,” Jone agreed.

  “I wouldn’t count on it,” Elissa said.

  Still the corelings continued to pour through the fissures, dozens becoming hundreds, until the chasm floor was filled. The demons swarmed the base of the cliff, but the rock face was cut deep with wards that sparked and flared, throwing them back.

  Last to climb from the tunnels below were half a dozen full-sized rock demons. These wasted no time snatching up huge chunks of bridge masonry and hurling them at the cliff. They shattered against the rock, weakening the wards, and again the demons swarmed, this time scrabbling at the stone before the wards repelled them.

  “We have to stop those rock demons,” Elissa said, looking to the house guards manning the nearest of the heavy cannons Brayan and Euchor took such pride in. “Can you shoot them?”

  “Begging your pardon, Mother, but no,” one of the guards said. “Cannons are meant to take aim across the chasm, not down into it. They’ll flip right off the wall if we try to aim that low.”

  Elissa eyed the sixteen-pound warded iron balls stacked by the wall next to the powder keg. She lifted one of the heavy things and eyed one of the rock demons below. She took a few steps back, then got a running start, pitching it over the side.

  Elissa watched the ball drop out of sight, picking up speed as it fell hundreds of feet into the demon ranks. She caught sight of it again when it struck and the wards activated, smashing through a cluster of field demons. She had missed her mark by a fair margin, but the throw was satisfying nevertheless.

  She looked to the guard. “Gravity need not be our enemy.”

  The guard coughed. “Ay, Mother. We’ll pass the word.”

  “None of that is going to stop those rock demons.” Jone’s voice had an uncharacteristic edge. Fear. Despair. Elissa looked and saw the same on the face of Mother Cera. Stasy. The guards on the wall.

  Elissa slipped her silver stylus out of her pocket, looping the chain at the end around her wrist. “I’ll handle the rock demons.” Her words were loud enough for several cannon teams to hear.

  All eyes were on her as Elissa drew a series of wards in glowing silver script that hung in the air. When the final symbol was linked, she opened the nib to feed the spell, aiming at a pair of rock demons.

  The line of wards flew like a blade, growing larger and brighter as it went until it cut through the demons like a spike through stone. Their armor shattered, and the pair were thrown down, dead.

  “Creator above!” Cera cried.

  Elissa’s satisfaction was short-lived as a wave of dizziness came over her. She’d used too much power to make sure the demons were killed on the first strike. She teetered, but Stasy caught her belt, pulling firmly back before she pitched over the wall.

  “Are you all right?” Stasy kept her voice low.

  “I’m fine.” Already, the dizziness was fading. Thankfully, only Stasy seemed to notice. The others near them on the wall stared at her, dumbfounded.

  From farther off there was pointing and shouting, and Elissa knew word would spread quickly. It was worth the risk, to give the defenders hope, but she could not continue to cast spells like that.

  “Back to your stations!” She sketched a ward to amplify her voice, and the men turned their attention below with renewed vigor, lifting heavy iron balls and pitching them into the demon masses.

  “Mothers,” Elissa said, looking to Jone and Cera. “You’ve seen all you need to see from the wall. I think it best you head back inside.”

  The women hesitated a moment, then Cera shook herself and nodded. “Of course. Come along, Stasy.” She turned to go.

  Elissa caught Stasy’s arm. “I’ll need the young Mother to assist me, I’m afraid.”

  Cera looked like she wanted to protest, but she’d just seen Elissa tear two rock demons in half with her stylus. Jone tugged at her arm, and the two women hurried down from the wall.

  Stasy looked out over the edge again. “I don’t know whether to thank you, Mother.”

  “I don’t want thanks.” Elissa produced a second stylus, plainer than her own, but nevertheless powerful. The Warders’ Guild had a template now, and used the pens to great effect in Harden’s Grove. “I want your help. You’re the only person in this keep I trust with one of these.”

  Stasy started to reach for the pen, then drew her hand back, rubbing her fingers together. “It’s been a long time since I worked in Master Cob’s warding shop.”

  “I’m sure you recall the basics, dear.” Elissa pressed the stylus into Stasy’s hand, meeting her eyes. “Everyone in this keep is going to die if we don’t stop those rock demons. I need you. The Mothers need you. Your son needs you.”

  Stasy nodded. “Ay, Mother. How does it work?”

  Elissa quickly showed her the wards to open the nib, and how to adjust the flow of power. “Try something simple.”

  “An impact ward?” Stasy asked, eyeing a rock demon illuminated in the wardlight.

  “I think not, until you’ve practiced more.” Elissa eyed a guard as he pitched an iron cannonball over the wall, and had a thought. She chose the nearest rock demon to the throw and drew a magnetic ward.

  They lost sight of the projectile, but then it flared with magic, yanked from its natural trajectory to smash the rock demon in the chest. The demon staggered back, alive but not unscathed.

  Stasy nodded, drawing a magnetic ward of her own. She fed it too much power, and from along the wall half a dozen cannonballs were drawn to a single demon, bashing it to death. Elissa readied herself to catch the young woman, but she did not seem harmed by the spell.

  “Oh, to be twenty-five again.” Elissa sighed.

  “What’s that, Mother?” Stasy asked.

  “Nothing. Come along, dear.”

  They walked the wall aiming shots for the guards, but for every rock demon they put down, more appeared. Little by l
ittle, the corelings were gaining ground, slowly scaling the cliff. Soon they would reach the keep walls in numbers that threatened to overwhelm the wardnet.

  “Wind demons!” one of the lookouts cried.

  The flight of demons swooped from the sky carrying smaller bits of masonry to rain down upon the defenses. A few smashed against the battlements, or knocked guards from the wall. The lucky ones fell twenty feet to land on the hard courtyard cobbles. The unlucky ones fell to the demons.

  The deaths were incidental, Elissa noted. “Creator. They’re aiming at the wards! Shoot them!”

  Guards raised mountain spears, and the flamework weapons went off like festival crackers, tearing through the wind demons. Corelings soaring with grace and ease suddenly yarped and spasmed, some dropping their stones prematurely, others losing altitude and crashing into the keep’s wardnet.

  Just a few hours before, wind wards had formed a barrier that would have left a dead demon lying in midair atop the wardnet until the sun burned it away. A live demon would have skittered off, pained and angered but relatively unharmed.

  Elissa had since added cutting wards to the net. When the wind demons struck the forbidding, they were sliced to pieces. Ichor, leathery bits of wing, and still-twitching chunks of flesh rained down upon the courtyard, sending shimmers of power through the crude greatwards painted on the cobbles.

  A demon caught sight of Elissa, veering from its course to focus on her, a heavy stone in its talons. She raised her stylus and drew an impact ward, keeping it small, like the head of a hammer. It smashed into the thin shoulder joint of the coreling’s left wing, and the wind demon lost control of its flight, flapping awkwardly before the wardnet tore it apart.

  Guards in the courtyard rushed out with warded halberds to finish off anything still kicking. These were followed by Warders who spread the remains to power the greatwards evenly, and harvested hora to power wardings of their own. It was grisly work for men and women used to ink and carving tools, and the sour stink of vomit mixed with the stench of demon ichor in the air. Elissa wet a scarf and pulled it over her nose and mouth, but her own stomach roiled.

  Buckets of demon guts and ichor were collected and carried to the cellars to strengthen the sewer wards. If the demons had been able to knock out the bridge supports, it was likely they were already in the tunnels below the keep, looking to break through.

  The demons’ progress on the cliff was steady, if not quick. Even the mighty rock demons couldn’t throw stones the full height of the cliff. They began to climb, tearing chunks one-handed from the rock face and hurling them upward. It was slower work, but only a matter of time before they reached the top of the cliff and began to assault the walls.

  Elissa looked to a cannon team, their store of ammunition rapidly diminishing. “Pitch the powder keg over the wall.”

  “Flame powder don’t work like that, Mother,” one of the guards said. “Won’t go off.”

  Elissa raised her stylus. “I think I can encourage it.”

  The guard grinned, and he and his men heaved the barrel up and over the side. Elissa watched it fall, then drew a heat ward just before it fell from sight. The keg exploded, knocking demons from their purchase to plummet to the chasm below. Corelings could recover from enormous damage, but Elissa doubted even they could survive a fall from such height.

  The defenders cheered, daring to hope once more, but then there was a rumbling like a quake and part of the courtyard collapsed. Demons, unable to reach the wall, had tunneled beneath it. Greatwards crumbled in huge sections of the yard, their power winking out.

  “Breach!” Elissa felt the wall teetering beneath her as the foundation crumbled. Soldiers and Warders were rushing for the stairs, but whether by luck or design, Elissa and Stasy were far from an exit as their section of wall began to tip toward the chasm.

  Elissa froze, but Stasy kept her head, drawing wind wards in front of them as she grabbed Elissa and pushed both of them off the wall into the courtyard.

  Stasy’s wards activated, cushioning their fall, but still they struck the cobbles hard, breath knocked out of them. Elissa would be a mass of bruises by morning, if she lived that long.

  She would have lost her stylus if not for the chain about her wrist. She caught it again and Drew just a little, restoring her strength.

  A pair of stone demons were pulling themselves from the foundation of the broken section of wall. These were followed not by field or flame demons, as Elissa might have expected, but something she had only heard of in stories.

  Snow demons, their white scales scintillating in the wardlight, came in a blizzard. Elissa raised her stylus to draw heat wards, but the demons ignored her and the other defenders, running to hawk coldspit onto undamaged sections of wall. The crete turned white with hoarfrost even as Elissa began burning the demons alive.

  Guards armed with flamework weapons formed firing lines, and many of the snow demons yelped and dropped to the ground, but the damage was done. The stone demons ignored flamework and heat wards alike as they charged the wall, hammering the frozen stone with blows that shook the entire keep.

  Blizzards and quakes, Arlen said. The words proved prophetic as the stone demons smashed through the walls, opening the courtyard to the night. Corelings shrieked as they came streaming through the gap.

  “Back to the manse!” Elissa used magic to strengthen her voice, but she needn’t have bothered. The few soldiers who managed to reload laid down fire as their fellows stampeded through the courtyard to enter the house proper.

  It was chaos like Elissa had never seen as the nimble snow demons set upon the fleeing men and women.

  “Keep to the greatwards!” Elissa boomed. Indeed, the wards still glowed in sections of the yard, and demons chasing those who reached their succor were swatted away.

  Elissa and Stasy were not so fortunate, having landed on a section of the damaged cobbles.

  Stasy caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned just in time to draw an impact ward and knock away a wind demon that soared through the gap in the wardnet. It would only be moments before others took similar advantage.

  A group of snow demons turned in unison, black eyes fixed on Elissa. She drew a heat ward at them, but the demons scattered, converging on them from several angles.

  “Run!” Elissa lifted her skirts with her free hand, and she and Stasy ran for the manse doors. The demons were faster, but they drew snow wards, knocking them from their path. It looked as if they would reach the house when a stone demon stepped into their path.

  They pulled up short, raising styluses, but at that moment one of the pursuing snow demons hawked coldspit, striking Elissa across the legs. She screamed, falling to the cobbles, the limbs burning with pain unlike anything she had ever known.

  “Elissa!” Stasy screamed.

  “Run!” Elissa struggled to one hand, raising her stylus to draw a shaky heat ward that scorched her own face even as it burned the nearest snow demons.

  “Like night I will!” Stasy held the stone demon off with a quick ward of protection and ducked to throw Elissa’s free arm over her shoulder. She heaved, and managed to get them both to their feet. One of Elissa’s legs burned but held her weight. The other was numb, and managed little more than a jolting limp.

  They stumbled onto one of the greatwards, but the stone demon tore free a cobble and threw it their way. Stasy turned, swinging Elissa in her haste, but she wasn’t quick enough to stop the projectile. It smashed into her chest, knocking her and Elissa both to the ground.

  “Stasy!” Elissa drew an impact ward, using much of her remaining magic to power it. The stone demon was knocked onto its back, armor spiderwebbed with cracks.

  Elissa felt for a pulse. Half the woman’s chest was caved in, her face red with blood.

  There were screams all around them, men, women, and demons dying, but many of the injured corelings were already recovering. They scratched at the forbidding of the greatward, talons trailing silver light as
they search for the gaps in the protection. Not far off, Elissa saw the other stone demon pick up a piece of rubble and take aim at her.

  All around the courtyard, demons were turning her way. She felt hundreds of eyes on her, and knew a mind must be close.

  With a wail of anguish, Elissa pushed herself to her feet. One leg shook and the other was little more than a peg to balance against. She threw an impact ward to knock away the demon’s missile and limped for the manse doors.

  A pair of guards reached her, ducking under her shoulders and lifting her right off her feet as they ran for the house.

  Demons charged, but the greatwards were only growing in power, feeding the wards on the manse walls. They were flaring brightly now, pulling power from the swarming demons. A rock demon threw a hunk of masonry at the manse, but the ward flared and it shattered, leaving the wall intact.

  The greatwards had reached critical mass with so many demons to Draw upon, fields overlapping one another around the manse. The demons tried to surge through, but it only made the forbidding stronger. They pressed up against the magic like children putting their faces against glass as guards fired cannons and flamework weapons from the manse roof, turning the courtyard into a kill zone.

  “Quickly now!” Mother Cera herself was at the door, holding a spear in one hand and stretching the other toward Elissa. She was pulled inside, and the doors slammed shut behind her.

  Elissa was dimly aware of being dragged to a couch. She was wrapped in blankets in front of a roaring fire, but couldn’t seem to stop shivering and sobbing. Stasy’s crushed breast was frozen in her mind’s eye.

  A cup was pushed into her hands and she drank, ignoring the burn of the hot tea on her throat. She lay there shaking as the Gatherer lifted her dress, but she felt nothing.

  “Night,” the Gatherer gasped.

  And then the tea took hold, and Elissa let her eyes close, welcoming oblivion.

  —

  It was still night when Elissa was started awake. She was bathed in sweat, head pounding, throat dry. Every movement brought burning pain. Outside, the bombardment continued.

  “What time is it?”