‘Never trust dirt wards,’ Arlen said.
‘Ent a fool,’ Renna said. ‘Posted guards with warded spears, but half Varley’s men are dozing like they’re playing possum on the road, and the other half are ready to piss themselves.’
Arlen nodded, and that hint of smile was back in the corner of his mouth. ‘Don’t worry. I’m getting good at this next part.’
Renna led the way to where the guards stood, and just as she’d said, there were half a dozen who gripped their new warded spears with shaking hands, and then another group, Varley’s bandits led by Donn and Brice, lounging on the ground playing Succour. Their warded weapons lay nearby, half forgotten. The wagons and warded tents were all shut, but there were plenty without such shelter that watched in fear as the sun set. Varley stood nearby, but still he held no weapon. He wrung his hat in his hands.
Everyone looked at Arlen as he passed. There were whispers from every part of the camp, and Renna even saw some of the wagon shutters and tent flaps peek open.
Arlen walked right over to Varley’s men, kicking a shaking cup of dice right from Donn’s hand.
‘Ay, what’s that about?’ the man cried.
‘The sun is setting and you’re playing at dice is what it’s about,’ Arlen snapped.
‘You crazy, Donn, talkin’ back to the Deliverer?’ Brice asked.
‘He ent the Deliverer,’ Donn said. ‘Said so himself.’ He turned to Arlen. ‘Sun ent gonna set for ten minutes, and there’s wards right there in the dirt for all to see.’
‘Can’t trust wards in the dirt,’ Arlen said.
Donn looked up. ‘Don’t look like rain to me.’
‘Ent just rain you got to worry about,’ Arlen said, going to inspect the wards. ‘Anything can scuff out a dirt ward.’ With that, he reached out with his sandalled foot and rubbed out a yard of Renna’s carefully drawn wards. She gasped, but Arlen laughed as the men scrambled to their feet, grabbing their weapons.
‘Ten minutes doesn’t feel like such a long time any more, does it?’ he called loudly, for the whole camp to hear.
‘Creator, are you cracked?’ Varley cried, but Arlen ignored him, striding back over to the dicers.
He nodded to Donn, now gripping his new warded spear tightly. The others, too, had quickly grabbed their warded weapons. ‘Now, you show respect for the coming night.’
Donn glared at him. ‘You’d best be the Deliverer now, ’cause if you ent, you are made of crazy.’
Arlen smiled and moved to face the other men, who now seemed doubly terrified – and with good reason. Already it was dark enough that Renna’s warded sight was coming to life. Luminescent wisps of magic, invisible to the others, were beginning to seep from the ground, pooling in the shadows and strengthening against the light. Soon the paths to the Core would open fully and the demons would rise.
Jered, who was barely sixteen, clutched his spear so tightly his knuckles showed white. ‘Why’d you go and do that? Don’t wanna die.’
‘Everyone dies,’ Arlen said. ‘It’s how we die that matters. Do you want to die because you were too piss-scared to defend yourself? You want your family to die because your knees buckled when you were supposed to protect them? Or do you want to take a coreling with you? Maybe more’n one?’
‘You need to let demons into our camp to make your point, boy?’ Varley demanded. He pointed as he did at the shapes of demons beginning to form just outside the clearing as full dark fell upon them.
‘Ent no demon getting in this camp,’ Arlen said, and he drew a deep breath. Renna watched as the soft glowing mist at Arlen’s feet suddenly rushed towards him like smoke sucked into a bellows. The air around him grew dark as Arlen absorbed the magic, then brightened again as the wards on his skin flared to life. Even the unwarded eyes of the Oatingers could see it, and they gasped as one.
A field demon solidified and ran towards the gap in the wards. Somewhere in the camp a woman screamed. Arlen swept a hand through the air, drawing a large ward. It flared to life as the demon struck the spot, its leap checked in mid-air with a crunch. The magic rebounded, throwing the demon back away from the camp.
‘Creator,’ Varley whispered.
‘Mind if I borrow your spear?’ Arlen asked Jered, snatching the weapon from the boy’s nerveless fingers.
Arlen stepped out beyond the ward, pointing to the recovering demon with the spear. ‘See how the field demon had to thrash to get to its feet,’ he called loudly for all to hear. ‘There ent nothing faster on four legs, and their sharp scales can blunt the attack of even a warded spear …’ The demon leapt at him, but Arlen stepped nimbly to the side, striking the demon with the butt of the spear. Impact wards flared, flipping the demon onto its back. ‘… but put it off its feet, and you expose its belly, which ent armoured for spit.’ He struck hard, putting the spear directly into the demon’s chest.
As he spoke, Renna moved to confront the next demon taking form. She inhaled as Arlen had, willing the ambient magic into herself. The air about her did not darken, but Renna could swear she felt something. The day’s weariness was gone. She felt strong.
The field demon swiped at her, its arm like a whip, but Renna saw the move coming and was well ahead of the flashing talons. She darted in before it could recover, whipping her beaded necklace around its throat. The wards painted on the brook stones flared to life, crushing inward. The demon tried to scream, but it came out a hoarse gasp. Renna locked her legs around it, carefully tucked in behind the claws as it rolled and thrashed about. Another moment, then a flash of magic as the beads came free with a jerk and the demon’s head fell free. She drew Harl’s knife and watched the other demons that stalked the area as Arlen continued his lesson.
It was nearly morning when Arlen approached the healing tent. All the Oatingers were asleep except for the guards patrolling the wards. Renna had finished the remaining wardposts, and Arlen had given Varley a map to Deadwell. He drew a little skull over the town well.
‘Sure you gotta do this?’ Renna asked.
Arlen nodded. ‘Can’t turn a blind eye, Ren.’
‘Don’t suppose you can,’ Renna said. ‘So do it quick, while no one’s looking.’
Arlen knelt by the young girl, armless and dying of demon fever, and drew wards in the air. The girl breathed in sharply as the magic swept through her, then relaxed again. The redness and blisters faded from her face, and a healthy pallor began to return to her skin.
‘Where’d you learn healin’ wards, anyhow?’ Renna asked. ‘You pull that from the demon’s mind?’
‘Sort of,’ Arlen said. ‘Ent exactly healing wards. Body wants to make itself well and knows what to do. The wards just give it power to do it fast.’
Arlen moved from one patient to the next, working quickly. He had charged himself with as much energy as he could hold, but it faded quickly with the healing. Soon he was swaying. Finally, his eyes half closed and he stumbled.
Renna was there in an instant to catch him. ‘That’s enough,’ she whispered. ‘Done what you could. Will you kill yourself to heal the rest?’
‘Sneaks up,’ Arlen said. ‘Feel invincible one second, and like I’m drowning the next. Need to learn my limits.’ He drew a deep breath, and again all the magic pooling across the ground like fog was drawn to him. The glow of his wards brightened, but it was nothing compared with the power he had radiated just a few minutes before. He looked haggard, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes.
‘Time to go,’ Renna said.
They galloped for several miles before Renna pulled up. Arlen wheeled Twilight Dancer around when he noticed her fall behind.
‘Go,’ Renna said.
‘Eh?’ Arlen asked.
‘Hunt something,’ Renna said. ‘Ent light yet, and you need more than just the magic in the air to get back up to speed. This ent the time to be getting sloppy.’
Arlen tilted his head, considering her, and that hint of smile crept back onto his face.
Renna was cold
to it. She pointed off the Messenger road to the plains. ‘Go.’
He nodded and was off, leaping Twilight Dancer off the road and onto the grasses. Renna waited until he was out of sight, then turned Promise and galloped back the way they had come.
She didn’t have a lot of time, but Renna didn’t need a lot. The wood demon she had glimpsed a few minutes before was still lurking by the thick tree that had hidden it from Arlen’s warded eyes.
She ran Promise right up to the tree and set her kicking, warded hooves exploding into the demon like thunderbolts, hurling it twisted and broken to the ground.
Renna leapt lightly from the horse, drawing Harl’s knife. Arlen’s pushing himself hard.
The demon thrashed as she came for it. Already, its magic was healing its wounds. In moments it would be ready to attack her again, but the demon did not have moments. Wood demon armour was a thick tough skin, gnarled and knobbed, with heavy bone plates jutting from beneath. The ridges between the plates were where they were most vulnerable. Renna struck hard, prising the demon’s breast plates apart and cutting its heart out before it stopped writhing.
He’d have kept on healing folk until it killed him. Always trying to give his life for someone, Arlen Bales. That ent changed in all these years.
It almost seemed to frustrate Arlen that he could find no demon great enough to destroy him, no burden too great to bear. He would keep seeking until he found one. Always trying to die a Krasian death.
Renna bit into the demon’s heart. It was foul and bitter, slick with black ichor, slimy and tough. There was a burst as her teeth met, sending some even fouler liquid spraying in her mouth. She thought there could be no viler taste until she retched, bile flooding around the half-chewn demon heart and up into her nostrils. She longed to spit the horrid mixture on the ground and give heave to her stomach, but she ground her teeth instead.
Arlen can’t find his death here, he’s gonna look for it in the Core, and I ent letting him go alone. Promised to stay with him, and never slow him down.
Renna swallowed, letting the tears stream down her face. She embraced the nausea, riding it like she had ridden Promise that first time, forgetting all else and holding on until her stomach finally calmed. Then she took another bite.
She had collected herself when Arlen returned, his glow restored. The dark circles were gone from his eyes, his movements sharp and agile once more. And his blood was up. She could hear it in his breathing and see the magic crackling around him, bringing with it primal urges not easily suppressed.
She felt much the same. Only the utmost concentration let her keep focus on the wards she was painting onto Promise’s blotched coat. The mare swatted Renna with her tail, but didn’t nip or pull away.
‘Feeling stronger?’ she asked.
Arlen nodded. ‘Still feel off, though. Charged and exhausted at the same time. But it’ll do. We got a long way to ride, and I don’t mean to stop till we reach the Hollow.’
He pointed. ‘Path up ahead will take us east to the Old Hill Road. Fell out of use ’round ninety years ago when the corelings destroyed Fort Hill. Should give us a straight, clear run to the Hollow. We ride on through tomorrow night and we’ll be there noon the next day.’
Renna nodded. ‘Who’s Leesha Paper to you?’
Arlen breathed three times in rhythm, the surest tell he was embracing some feeling or memory, but there was no way to know what that might be. ‘Leesha Paper is Herb Gatherer of Deliverer’s Hollow, but she’s more like Selia Barren from back in the Brook. People hop when she claps. Innkeep in Riverbridge said Jardir snatched her from the Hollow and forced her to his bed. Need to see if that’s so. Pick up the trail, if I can. Find out Jardir laid a finger on her, gonna kill him.’
Renna smiled. ‘Wouldn’t be the man I love if you didn’t. What he did to you, I’m part fixin’ to kill him myself.’
‘Don’t you go tryin’ that, Ren,’ Arlen said. ‘You ent a match for him, no matter what you think you’ve learned. Jardir’s been fighting demons since before either of us was born.’
Renna shrugged. ‘Still haven’t answered my question. Din’t ask “Who’s Leesha Paper?” Asked “Who’s Leesha Paper, to you?” Hear tell the Krasians been forcing a lot of women to their beds. Why’s this the one that makes you come running?’
‘She’s my friend,’ Arlen said.
‘You don’t talk about her like a friend,’ Renna said. ‘You go all stiff. Cold. Can’t read you. Makes me think you’re hidin’ somethin’.’
Arlen looked at her and sighed. ‘What do you want me to say, Ren? You’ve got your Cobie Fishers, and I’ve got mine.’
‘Cobie Fisher is one,’ Renna said, feeling her blood pounding in her veins. ‘Da drove off any other boy who came to court more’n once. How many you got?’
Arlen shrugged. ‘Two or three.’
‘Well ent you popular.’ Renna spat. She could feel the monster raging within her, the demon essence, shrieking for violence. She gritted her teeth. It was too big to embrace. It was overwhelming. She tensed, fighting back the urge to leap at him. To kill him, even.
‘What?’ Arlen snapped, seeing the fierce look in her eyes and returning it tenfold. ‘Was I supposed to hold true because our das bartered us like cattle? I left Tibbet’s Brook and never meant to come back, Ren.’
Renna recoiled. Arlen Bales, just the idea of him and the memory of that kiss in the hayloft and her words of promise, had been Renna Tanner’s whole world when she was young. Dreams of Arlen had kept her going through hard times that would have broken other folk. That did break other folk. The thought that she had meant nothing to him back then, that she didn’t even enter into his thoughts, was too harsh to bear.
Arlen rushed at her, and instinctively she drew her knife. He was quicker, grabbing her wrists and holding them down with the strength of a rock demon. She strained against him uselessly.
‘Din’t know the girl you were then,’ Arlen said. ‘Or the woman you’d be. I had, I would have turned right around to take you away with me.’
Renna stopped struggling and looked at him. ‘You mean that?’
‘Honest word,’ Arlen said. ‘You askin’ if I got some past with women? Ay, I do. But past, as in done.’ He reached out, cupping her face and lifting it so their eyes met. ‘My future is Renna Tanner.’
Renna let her knife drop to the ground, but when he let her go, she still leapt on him.
4
Second Coming
333 AR Summer
26 Dawns Before New Moon
They galloped until dawn, then eased the horses into a walk as the sun burned their night strength away. Arlen took them off road, leading Twilight Dancer with confidence down a Messenger way so overgrown and twisted it was almost invisible. The path beneath Renna’s feet never vanished, but it opened up suddenly before her and closed off quickly behind, like she was wandering through a thick fog.
Around midday, the path merged into a wide Messenger road, and they were able to mount again after a break for lunch and necessaries. Like the roads in Riverbridge, the Old Hill Road was made of stone, but most of it was now cracked and eroded into enormous potholes, filled with dirt and thick with stunted patches of scrub and weed. In more than one place, a full tree had broken through, leaving great blocks of broken stone, moss-covered and filthy. In other places, the road ran for long stretches as if untouched by time, miles of grey stone, flat and uniform with nary a crack or seam.
‘How’d they haul stones that big?’ Renna asked in wonder.
‘Din’t,’ Arlen said. ‘They made a muddy porridge called crete, which hardens into solid rock. All roads used to be like this, wide and stone, sometimes hundreds of miles long.’
‘What happened to them?’ Renna asked.
Arlen spat. ‘World got too small for big roads. Now Old Hill Road’s one of the last of her kind. Nature doesn’t take them back quickly, but eventually she does take ’em back.’
‘We’ll make good time here,�
� Renna said.
‘Ay, but night will be a race,’ Arlen warned. ‘Field demons are drawn here like pigs to the trough. Come up through the potholes.’
Renna smirked. ‘Who am I to worry? Got the Deliverer with me.’ Arlen scowled, and she laughed.
Renna wasn’t laughing any more. Promise had relented to take a few strips of braided leather as a girth, but it was still all Renna could do to hang on as the giant Angierian mustang galloped flat-out over the ancient highway, leaping obstacles and barely keeping ahead of the reap of field demons at her heels.
Twilight Dancer fared no better, with as many of the corelings on his tail as Promise’s. The demons seemed bred for the road, their long tireless strides eating up the pavement.
Above, the raptor cries of wind demons filled the night sky. Renna glanced up and saw the demons clearly by the glow of their magic, massive wingspans blotting out the stars. Even wind demons weren’t quick enough to dive and take a galloping horse, but if they slowed …
‘Do we fight?’ Renna shouted to Arlen. Both their senses were far more acute in the night, but it was still hard to tell if he heard her over the thunder of hooves and the shriek of demons sensing a kill.
‘Too many!’ Arlen shouted back. ‘We stop to fight, more will catch up! Keep on!’
His face was clear as day to her night eyes, lined with worry. He was in no danger, of course. Nothing could harm Arlen in the night. But Renna had no such security. Her warded cloak would not shield her at a gallop, and while she had painted much of Promise’s splotchy coat, those wards wouldn’t last long in a pitched battle against an ever-increasing number of demons. Even Twilight Dancer’s warded barding had gaps necessary for mobility.
Renna’s hand itched to go to her knife, but she kept her arms tight around Promise’s powerful neck. A coreling nipped at the mare’s heels, and caught a hoof in the face for its efforts. The wards Renna had carved into it flared, and the coreling’s long, razor-sharp teeth shattered as the demon was thrown back.
The Daylight War Page 9