The Core

by Peter V. Brett

  A heavy stone struck him in the chest, but Arlen wrapped his arms around it and planted his feet, skidding back. He hurled the stone back the way it had come, clearing a path through the demons. He ran into the gap, Jardir at his back, gaining several yards before the demons managed to block the way once more.

  Magic-dead spikes thrust at him. Arlen dodged and parried what he could, but one dug into his side, another his shoulder. The mimic came in close, wrapping itself around him, suffocating.

  Arlen powered the mimic wards on his skin, tearing the demon to pieces that showered its fellows in ichor and gore.

  Jardir dropped the crown’s forbidding as a mimic charged, then raised it right between the demon’s legs, trapping one half on either side of the bubble. He sent a blast of magic from his spear, incinerating the half on the inside.

  Arlen Drew more and more power, but the magic seemed without limit here. He felt like Jardir in the Spear of Ala, sweeping powerful demons out of his path like unruly vines before the machete.

  Unburdened by Alagai Ka, Jardir began experimenting with the crown’s warding field, using it to trap mimics in with him where he could destroy them in the enclosed space without fear of others coming to their aid.

  Slowly at first, they made gains to the deeper tunnels. Arlen could hear the queen with his own two ears now—partly the lowing of an animal birthing, and partly a moan of panic and fear at their approach.

  Realizing they could no longer hold them back, two of the mimics turned and drew heat and impact wards, trying to collapse the tunnel. Arlen countered with wards to turn the falling stone to mud as he and Jardir gave a final push. They smashed through the last of the guards and sprinted down the tunnel as it opened into a vast chamber.

  There lay the demon queen, bloated and pulsing.

  She had a conical cranium not dissimilar in shape to her princes’, but huge, with a mouth like a barn door, big enough to swallow Twilight Dancer whole. Her body filled the room, little more than a massive and distended abdomen, scaled and slimy, expelling what seemed an endless stream of eggs. Her legs were short, vestigial things that had obviously not been used in many years, unable to support such bulk.

  At the end was a long reticulated tail tipped with a two-pronged stinger dripping venom that glowed hot with magic. Unlike the limbs, the stinger looked limber and strong. The queen would use it to kill her female offspring before they could usurp her.

  Arlen did not want to know what a strike would do to a human.

  Small worker demons collected the eggs, carrying them away for hatching. The workers were not combat drones, lacking armor and talons, but they froze as Arlen and Jardir entered, then turned and attacked.

  The demons smashed against the crown’s warding field, but in that moment Arlen felt the queen’s psychic scream vibrate through him, piercing out into the world.

  The response was immediate. All around, mists flowed into the room, forming into mind demons and their mimic bodyguards, almost a dozen in all, the last princes of the hive.

  Mind demons were cowards by nature. Not given to acts of bravery or altruism, it seemed even they could not deny the demands of the queen and the survival of the hive.

  They were weakest in the shift from the between-state to solid, and Arlen and Jardir both struck in that moment. Arlen fed power into the impact wards on his knuckles, punching through a mind demon’s chest, even as Jardir parted another’s head from its shoulders with a slash of his spear.

  Before, the death of a mind demon had always sent out psychic waves of agony that killed other demons in the vicinity, but here in the presence of the queen’s overwhelming dominance, that effect was nullified. The mimic forming beside the mind Arlen killed struck back hard, magic-dead ridges on its tentacle tearing deep grooves in his chest as it knocked him back.

  Arlen rolled with the blow, already healing the wound as he powered the mind and mimic wards tattooed all over his body, and drew others in the air, scattering his enemies.

  Jardir’s warding field was expanding and contracting like a beating heart, finding harmony with the pumping of his spear. He pushed demons back to create striking space, then pulled it in close to stab the point of his weapon out of the field while keeping his hands and body protected.

  And all the while, the queen lowed and flailed her stubby legs, distended body quivering as it continued to expel eggs.

  A mimic pitched a heavy rock at him, but Arlen caught it, meaning to hurl it right back. Instead, one of the minds drew an impact ward and it exploded in his hand, smashing him onto his back.

  A mimic pounced on him, growing plates of thick, magic-dead armor his mimic wards could not repel. Arlen curled back, rolling up his feet and powering the impact wards on his heels to kick out and knock the creature back. But the demon’s horned tentacles dug into the stone floor, body stretching like a bowstring.

  When Arlen’s kick reached full extension and retracted, the demon snapped back at him, growing spikes that punched through toughened layers of muscle to ricochet off hardened bones.

  He was aware that he was screaming, but barely heard it as he poured power into his mimic wards, finding the demon beneath the magic-dead armor and throwing it back. Again it stretched, but this time Arlen drew quick cutting wards and the tentacles that anchored it were severed. The demon flew back into its master.

  There was no respite, Arlen already rolling and leaping away as the ground where he lay exploded with fire and concussion. The floor he landed on was suddenly slick with ice, and he lost his footing and had to roll again as a stream of acid glanced off his back, burning.

  Jardir was faring little better. The demons could not pass through his warding field, but it was scant protection against their magic and projectiles. Small stones flew from all sides of the room, drawn unerringly to the crown.

  Jardir threw up an arm to protect his face, jamming the crown down tight as he weathered the barrage. He dropped the field and re-energized it to trap a mind and its mimic within. He let out a huge blast of power from the spear, incinerating them before they could escape, but the attention cost him as a heavy stone hit him hard in the back.

  As he hit the ground, a mimic put a spike through his right forearm, and his grip on the Spear of Kaji was broken. He smashed the spike before the demon could yank back and sever his hand, but before he could free his arm, an impact ward kicked the spear out of reach. Jardir leapt for it, but other minds took up the game, bouncing the weapon across the chamber as their mimics blocked his path. He attemped to trace wards to summon it back to his hand, but the demons countered the magic, and the spear resisted his call.

  It was hand-to-hand with the mimics then, Arlen and Jardir focusing power through the wards on their fists and feet, knees and elbows, as they dodged, absorbed, and weathered blasts of magic from the minds. All along there was a tickling in Arlen’s brain, the demons trying to claw past his defenses and attack his will.

  Slowly, the tide began to tell. Arlen was breathing hard, his blows slowing, defenses sluggish. He began taking more hits than he blocked, and they were increasingly difficult to heal. Even this close to the Core, in the center of the hive’s greatward where the current was so strong, he felt his magic waning. The demons were Drawing on the power from all sides even as the queen continued to feed, and his internal reserves were dwindling.

  He could see Jardir’s aura dimming as well, his scarred flesh bleeding freely from a dozen wounds, chest heaving as he drew great gulps of air.

  They were losing, and the world would lose with them.

  A mimic spread out like a blanket to envelop him, and Arlen let it, snuffing his mimic wards to embrace the creature, touching his tattoos directly to its amorphous flesh. Before it could grow layers of magic-dead protection to trap him, he Drew hard against his wards, sucking magic from the demon like juice from an orange. His strength restored, he tore through its lifeless husk.

  Before the minds could react, Arlen turned to the growing pile of sl
ime-covered eggs. Demon larvae pulsed and writhed within their translucent shells. Arlen had to swallow his nausea as he drew a line of impact wards and imparted much of his remaining strength into them.

  Eggs shattered, scattering in every direction with a spray of hot sticky fluid and squirming larvae. Before gravity could pull it back to the floor, Arlen added a line of powerful heat wards. The symbols flared hotter than firespit, setting fire to fluid and flesh. Larvae squealed and writhed, kicking and thrashing as they burned. Greasy smoke billowed up to the high ceiling of the chamber.

  The minds shrieked at the sight, but it was nothing compared with the demon queen. Her lowing became a roar and she found new strength, rolling onto her stub legs and scrabbling until she was close enough to lash out with her stinger.

  Arlen tried to dodge, but the queen’s strike was faster than he believed possible. He powered the wards of forbidding on his skin, but the wards were no protection against a queen and the two prongs of the stinger caught him in the side, pumping hot venom into his body.

  It was like swallowing boiling acid. His insides screamed and melted as the poison worked its way into him. His legs went limp, and he collapsed.

  “Par’chin!” Jardir was by his side in an instant, chopping his hand like a hatchet into the reticulation beneath the stinger. Cutting wards scarred alongside his little finger and palm blazed with magic, severing the demon queen’s tail. He pulled the stinger free of Arlen’s body, the organ still spurting venom that smoked and hissed as it struck the stone floor.

  Arlen summoned the last of his magic to neutralize the poison, but the venom fought him, bringing its own dark magic to bear.

  He could see in Jardir’s aura the desperate need to help him, but his friend’s attention was split, working to defend them against the tightening ring of enemies.

  “Fight, son of Jeph!” Jardir shouted. “All Ala hangs in the balance!”

  But Arlen felt his fight draining away. He forced venom from the wound, but the dark liquid ran down his body like firespit, melting flesh into a putrid ooze. Still more coursed through his veins, using his own heart against him as it spread through his body.

  Arlen propped himself on one arm, and Jardir let him go to focus on driving back the surrounding demons alone. Arlen tried to rise, but the chamber was spinning. He could barely tell up from down, and knew even getting to his feet was beyond him.

  —

  “Quiet, now.” Renna pulled her Cloak of Unsight tight around her as she, Shanvah, and Shanjat crept into the birthing chamber.

  Shanvah had been singing for hours, but still her voice continued, pure and unbroken, making them a part of the tunnels, part of the darkness, part of the stone. The demons, focused on the melee with Arlen and Jardir, took no notice of them as they hugged the wall, circling the mammoth chamber.

  Every fiber of her being screamed at her to go to their aid, but Renna knew it would be a losing battle against so many. She and the two Sharum were powerful—they might hold back the minds a bit longer at Arlen and Jardir’s side—but it would only delay the inevitable.

  She shuddered as the queen’s stinger struck Arlen, but she bit her tongue and kept moving, eyes on the only prize that mattered.

  The Spear of Kaji lay forgotten on the floor, far from the fighting. Jardir could not get to it, and the demons could not touch it, so it had fallen from attention as the battle raged on.

  Renna swallowed, forcing herself not to run. The queen and minds were focused on Arlen and Jardir, but the cloak and Shanvah’s song were scant protection here in the center of the hive. Their magic worked best when standing still, or moving at a slow, deliberate pace.

  The baby writhed in her belly, and she wondered if she was about to doom the child, herself, her husband and friends, all for a fool’s chance.

  The spear was a dozen yards away. Then ten. Five. One.

  Renna scooped it up, feeling power surge into her from the mighty artifact. She broke from her slow stride, putting magical speed into her run and leap.

  At the last moment the demon queen’s eyes flicked to her. She lashed out with her tail—so fast. It struck Renna a glancing blow and would have been the end of her, but the stinger was severed. The stump gave her a painful smack, spraying her with ichor. She twisted in midair, never losing sight of her target.

  The queen’s cry echoed through the chamber as Renna buried the Spear of Kaji deep into her eye.

  The orb burst, spraying Renna with fluid. The demon queen’s head swung wildly, gigantic maw snapping at her. Renna caught hold of one of the many spiked horns and held fast, kicking against the giant teeth in a desperate scramble as she tried with one hand to force the spear in deeper.

  The Spear of Kaji seemed to come to life. Its wards glowed brighter and brighter as it Drew the queen’s power and turned it into killing waves of magic. The shaft grew hot, and Renna was forced to let go, the imprint of the spear seared into her flesh.

  “Inevera!” Jardir shouted, but whether he was calling out to his wife or to his deity, Renna could not say. He lashed out with his crown, scattering demons with the forbidding as he took three great running strides and leapt. He struck a mighty blow against the butt of his spear, driving it like a nail all the way into the demon queen’s skull.

  The queen’s entire body thrashed in response, and Renna could feel her psychic scream, echoed by the shrieks of the minds and mimics in the chamber. They attempted to retreat, but Shanvah and her father were waiting, spears thrusting into dark, cold hearts. Renna leapt clear of the queen’s convulsions, landing in a crouch and drawing heat and impact wards to scatter the remaining corelings.

  Jardir began warding as well. He shattered the entrance to the main tunnel to bar escape as the terrified and disoriented demons were cut down by Renna and his Sharum. Arlen still propped himself on one arm, but Renna could see him Drawing power, working to burn away the queen’s poison.

  For a moment, she thought they had won.

  But then the queen gave a last moan and collapsed. Her cervix opened wide, expelling eggs in a great, shuddering flood. They ran over the floor with slime and fluid, reeking and steaming in the open air. It seemed no threat, until the last.

  Six eggs the size of nightwolves burst from the womb, shattering the moment they hit air. Renna knew immediately these were the hatchling queens Alagai Ka spoke of. Unlike the mature, bloated creature Renna killed, these were sleek and battle-ready, crouching on powerful limbs, reticulated tails moving as if with minds of their own, prongs dripping venom.

  The remaining minds hissed in delight. One, bolder than his brethren, rushed forward, talons clutching, as if hoping to snatch one of the demon queens and abscond.

  She stung him instead. The mind threw his head back, mouth foaming, and fell to the cavern floor, twitching and convulsing.

  The juvenile queens were still small, barely larger than Renna herself. They were disoriented by their sudden hatching—vulnerable. Renna pulled her knife, stalking forward to finish things once and for all.

  But then the queens began to glow.

  Auras already bright with power, the hatchling queens sucked at their mother’s magic like babes at the teat. As they did, they started to grow. In seconds, they were the size of horses. Then rock demons. Still the power flowed into them.

  They turned as one to face her and Renna backpedaled in sudden fear. There was intelligence in their eyes to match the power in their auras. Alagai Ka had said the first thing juvenile queens would do was fight and kill one another until only one remained, but it seemed that came second when there was a threat to the hive.

  One of the queens leapt at her, slimy wings unfurling on her back, beating furiously as she cleared the distance. Renna Drew magic to fight back, but the baby began kicking wildly, and she stumbled, the power slipping away.

  “Kill!” Shanvah pointed with her spear, and Shanjat launched himself forward, meeting the queen in midair before she could reach Renna.

  Shanjat�
��s spear punched a hole in the juvenile queen’s side, but she seemed to take no notice of it. His shield was made of thick, powerfully warded steel, but the queen clawed through it like paper, tearing his arm away with the blow. Her maw darted forward, snatching the warrior up and swallowing him in three, quick bites.

  Shanvah shrieked, not the sound of a daughter in mourning, but the full force of her magically enhanced voice, attempting to drive the queen back as she herself charged in.

  But the sound did even less to deter the hatchling queens than Shanjat’s shield. If anything, it angered them. One flew at her, and Renna could only watch as Shanvah was torn in two.

  CHAPTER 43

  THE CORE

  334 AR

  Arlen felt another wave of nausea and hawked, trying to clear his breath. Something gathered in his throat, burning and choking. He coughed violently, expelling thick black fluid that hissed and smoked on the stone. Everything began to spin. Renna, Jardir, the remaining demons.

  “To me!” Jardir shouted, raising the crown’s warding field. Renna stumbled back into its protection, but Arlen knew the crown’s magic would do no more good than Shanjat’s shield, Shanvah’s song.

  There are no queen wards. If just one of the minds escaped with a queen, or they established a new order here, all Thesa would suffer. If more than one managed it, everyone he knew and loved was doomed.

  Alagai Ka was still missing. Had the demon planned this? Known what would happen when they killed the queen? Was it his intention all along to end the last queen’s reign and begin a new dynasty? Arlen looked around as if expecting the demon king to appear, but there was no sign of him amid the maelstrom.

  Time seemed to stretch. The world floated around him, a Jongleur’s show he had ceased to pay attention to. Was this the end?

  He shook his head violently, trying to return to the present, but instead his thoughts drifted to the past.

  I don’t pretend to see the path, Tender Jona told him before the Battle of Cutter’s Hollow, but I know it’s there all the same. One day, we’ll look back and wonder how we ever missed it.