The Daylight War (19 page)

‘My mother must hear of this,’ Thamos mumbled after a moment.

Everyone looked at him curiously. Tender Hayes scowled. ‘Mother, Your Highness?’ he murmured. It was too quiet for the others to hear, but Renna heard the words as clear as day. Her senses were stretching farther every day.

Thamos gave a start, sitting up straight as some of the colour returned to his face. ‘Brother,’ he corrected. ‘My brother, Duke Rhinebeck, must hear of this immediately. Arther, ready a Messenger!’

Arther moved to comply, but Arlen raised a hand to forestall him. ‘I regret to inform Your Highness that there is worse news. Mind demons can reach right into your thoughts and eat them, knowing everything you do. They can even take over and work your body like a puppet.’

‘Creator!’ Merrem exclaimed. ‘How are we supposed to fight against that?’ The count’s face looked so green Renna thought he might slosh up at any moment.

‘The greatwards are proof against them,’ Arlen said. ‘And for the rest, there are mind demon wards.’ He produced a sheaf of parchment and a warding brush from somewhere in his robes. The brush seemed an extension of his arm as he quickly drew a large mind ward, turning it to face the others at the table.

‘This symbol can block their intrusion.’ He pointed to the same symbol tattooed on his forehead, and the one in blackstem that now adorned Renna’s. ‘Mind demons are even more sensitive to light than regular corelings. Even moonlight stings them. They only come to the surface at the cycling of the new moon. Those three nights, anyone outside an active greatward needs to be wearing this ward on their head.’

Darsy traced a finger along the curves of the symbol. ‘It’s simple enough. We can make stamps and put them all over town.’

Arlen nodded. ‘Do it.’ He looked to the Butchers. ‘And you’re going to need to step up recruiting and get the Cutters ready for corelings that know how to fight smart.’

‘Got recruits aplenty,’ Dug said, ‘but that just means there’s a lot of raw wood running around with warded spears and not a clue how to use them.’

‘They’ve got three weeks to learn,’ Arlen said. ‘I’ll help as I can, but this is on you, Dug Butcher. You and Merrem,’ he looked at Thamos, ‘and your count.’

‘Can’t believe you just gave up an army of demon hunters,’ Renna said as they went back to the horses.

‘Never wanted to lead an army, Ren,’ Arlen said. ‘These days, any army I lead is apt to have more red on their spears than black. Folk need to stand together, day and night. I’d only get in the way of that. Let Thamos have his throne.’

He looked at her and smiled. ‘I can always kick him back off it, if need be.’

Renna laughed, and a nearby wood demon glanced about excitedly at the sound, trying to find its source. She was only a dozen feet away, but in her warded cloak she could have walked right up to it unnoticed.

The cloak Leesha had so lovingly made for Arlen.

‘Knew there was a reason I never quite liked this thing,’ Renna said. She reached up, undoing the clasp and letting the cloak fall to the ground. The demon gave a shriek as it caught sight of her, coming in fast.

Renna let it come, standing her ground until the last moment before sliding aside, stabbing her knife into a fold in the demon’s armour as it stumbled past.

The demon clutched the wound, but it was not fatal, and already its magic would be healing the damage. It turned back to her and shrieked again. Renna met its eyes and spread her arms, waiting.

The demon was more cautious when it came back at her, keeping its distance and using the reach of its branchlike arms to full advantage. Renna bided her time, giving ground freely as she wove around its attacks. Occasionally she hacked at a passing limb with her knife, but those shallow cuts did little more than sting the demon.

Still she waited, until the coreling set its feet a certain way. She dodged its next attack and came in hard before the demon could recover, stabbing into the gap between its third and fourth ribs on the right side, as Arlen had taught her. She felt the beating as her knife pierced the demon’s heart, pumping raw magic into her as the light left its eyes.

Flailing, the wood demon clawed at her, but magic sparked along the blackstem wards on her skin, keeping it at bay. Finally, it collapsed.

She looked at Arlen. ‘
That
demon knows who killed it.’

Arlen looked down his nose at her. ‘It’s dead, Ren. It doesn’t know anything.’

He bent, picking up the cloak and shaking the dirt and leaves from it be
fore folding it carefully. ‘Honest word, I never liked wearing it, myself. Don’t like hiding any more’n you do. Less, I reckon.’

He grunted. ‘Ever get a gift from someone and know they put a lot of thought into it, but you open it and your first thought is “
This
person
don’t know me at al
l
”?’

Renna nodded. ‘Like when Da would buy a keg of Boggin’s Ale to celebrate my born day, then drink it all himself.’ She shrugged. ‘Tanners ent ever been much for gift giving. Leastways not since Mam died.’

‘How’d she go?’ Arlen asked softly. ‘Heard it was demons, but they never told the tale in town.’

‘Couldn’t say,’ Renna admitted. ‘She was cored sure enough, but there wern’t a breach in the wards – she was out in the yard. Remember she and Da were fightin’ something fierce that night. Didn’t give it a lot of thought when I was little, but now I figure she ran out to get away from him. Night, thought about doing it myself a few times.’

‘Glad you didn’t,’ Arlen said. ‘One thing to run when you got something to run to, but if you gotta go out, better to go fightin’ than runnin’.’

‘Honest word,’ Renna said.

‘Cloak’s got its uses, though,’ Arlen said. ‘We might’ve both been cored without it.’

‘Guess I ought to thank Leesha Paper for savin’ us, then.’ Renna spat on the ground.

‘
You
saved us, Ren,’ Arlen said. ‘Wern’t the cloak or your da’s knife that walked up to that corespawn and put him down. Mind demon came closer to ending me than any, and I’ve had some close calls at night.’

He held the bundle out to her, and Renna nodded, accepting it. She smiled. ‘Can’t say I won’t enjoy when your Leesha sees me in it. Tells folk you put me first.’

Arlen smirked. ‘Some folk. The rest will see it and think you’re one of Leesha’s apprentices.’ Renna scowled, and he laughed.

‘C
orespawn it,’ Arlen growled.

‘What?’ Renna asked. They had dismounted after a hard ride, leading the horses through a thick stand of trees that had just opened into a small clearing with a jutting rock face.

‘Someone’s found my hideout.’ He pointed.

Renna followed his finger to the rock face, but shook her head. ‘Don’t see anything.’

‘It’s there,’ Arlen said. ‘You’d have to walk right up to it before you saw the door. Got a metal gate covered in corkweed at the entrance, and the rest covered in moss and grass.’

Renna squinted. ‘How do you know someone’s found it?’

Arlen pointed at a thin trail of smoke drifting out the top of a dead tree that stood solemnly atop the small rocky knoll. ‘That’s my chimney. Didn’t leave the hearth fire burning for three months.’

‘Leave anything important there?’ Renna asked.

Arlen shrugged. ‘Some half-finished warding. Folk joining the Cutters were gobbling up weapons faster’n I could ward them, so I never really built up a cache. Just a place to lay my head.’

There was a squawk, and Arlen sighed. ‘Made my nice stable into a corespawned chicken coop.’

‘So now what?’ Renna asked.

‘Reckon we rent a room in town,’ Arlen said, sounding tired. ‘Starting tomorrow. Day or night, expect folk are going to swarm once we show our faces. Need a few hours’ sleep before it starts.’

‘Why can’t we just camp like we been doing?’ Renna said.

‘Ent animals, Ren,’ he said. ‘Nothing wrong with sleeping in a bed, and we ent too good to get to know folk.’

Renna grimaced. She hadn’t had a chance to hunt tonight, and expected that once they were in town, her opportunities to feed on coreflesh without Arlen’s knowledge would be fewer still. The part of her disgusted by the act was fading quickly as her power grew. She was hungry, and mere food could no longer satisfy.

But the tired look on Arlen’s face checked her. He was carrying the world on his shoulders, and she needed to support him in the coming days, no matter what.

‘Fine. Tomorrow.’ She went to him, taking his hands in hers and kissing him. ‘Put down a circle, and I’ll put you down proper.’ She smiled. ‘You’ll sleep like the dead.’

The tired look left Arlen’s face as she began to caress him. He was never so tired she couldn’t rouse him by dropping her clothes to the ground.

It was hours later when Renna, lying awake as she listened to Arlen’s breathing deepen into a snore, slipped from his embrace. She paused, watching him there in the circle. He looked so small, so vulnerable. For all his power, he wasn’t too good to breathe, or to sleep. He needed someone at his back. Someone he could trust.

Someone strong.

She drew her knife and ran off into the night.

Renna woke with her face in the dirt. She must have rolled off the blanket at some point in the night. She spat and brushed absently at her face as she stretched out the morning kinks. It wasn’t quite dawn yet, but the sky was light enough that she could use her normal vision while still watching the drift of magic as it weakened and fled for the shadows.

Arlen was already up and about, wearing only his bido as he dug in Twilight Dancer’s saddlebags, grumbling to himself. ‘Know I left ’em here somewhere …’

Renna smiled as she watched him. She’d gladly wake up with a mouthful of dirt every morning, if the first thing she could see was Arlen Bales. ‘What’s that?’

Arlen looked up at her as he continued to rummage, and the smile that lit his face was a reflection of hers. ‘My clothes. Aha!’

He produced a crumpled bundle of cloth, shaking out a pair of faded denim trousers and a once white shirt. He pulled them on, and Renna laughed at how baggy they were. ‘Still don’t fit in your da’s clothes?’

Arlen gave her a wry look as he tightened his belt and rolled up his shirtsleeves. ‘Folk said I was lean back in my Messenger days, but I ate well enough. Think I lost twenty pounds since,’ he swept a hand over his tattooed face, ‘all this.’ He cuffed the loose ends of his trouser legs.

His sandals sat atop his neatly folded robes, all of which he placed in a saddlebag. He pulled out an old pair of leather boots but, after a moment’s consideration, grunted and tucked them back away, remaining barefoot.

It was strange to see Arlen in normal clothes. She squinted, trying to imagine the man he might have been if he had never left Tibbet’s Brook, but it was impossible. The tattoos covering his forearms and calves – not to mention his neck and face – were all the more jarring coming from out the plain shirt and trousers. ‘What’s all this?’ Renna asked.