The Warded Man (18 page)

“Leesha, open the door this instant, or you’ll have night to pay!” her mother screeched.

Leesha ignored her.

“If you don’t listen to yur mother and open this door before I count to ten, Leesha, I swear I will break it down!” Steave boomed.

Fear gripped Leesha as Steave began to count. She had no doubt he could and would splinter the heavy wooden door with a single blow. She ran to the outer door, throwing it open.

It was almost dark. The sky was deep purple, and the last sliver of sun would dip below the horizon in mere minutes.

“Five!” Steave called. “Four! Three!”

Leesha sucked in her breath and ran from the house.

LEESHA LIFTED HER SKIRTS HIGH and ran for all she was worth, but it was over a mile to Bruna’s hut, and she knew deep down she could never make it in time. Her family’s cries rang out behind her, the sound muted by the pounding of her heart and the thud of her feet.

There was a sharp stitch in her side, and her back and thighs were on fire from Elona’s belt. She stumbled, and scraped her hands catching herself. She forced herself upright, ignoring the pain and driving forward on pure will.

Halfway to the Herb Gatherer, the light faded, and the new night beckoned the demons from the Core. Dark mists began to rise, coalescing into harsh alien forms.

Leesha did not want to die. She knew that now; too late. But even if she wished to turn back, home was farther away now than Bruna’s hut, and there was nothing in between. Erny had purposefully built his house away from the others, after complaints about the smell of his chemicals. She had no choice but to go on, heading toward Bruna’s hut at the woods’ edge, where the wood demons gathered in force.

A few corelings swiped at her as she passed, but they were still insubstantial, and found no purchase. She felt cold as their claws passed through her breast, as if she had been touched by a ghost, but there was no pain, and she did not slow.

There were no flame demons this close to the woods. Wood demons killed flame demons on sight. Firespit could set a wood demon alight, even if normal fire could not. A wind demon solidified in front of her, but Leesha dodged around it, and the creature’s spindly legs were not equipped to pursue her afoot. It shrieked at her as she ran on.

She glimpsed a light ahead; the lantern that hung by Bruna’s front door. She put on a last burst of speed, crying out, “Bruna! Bruna, please open your door!”

There was no reply, and the door remained shut, but the way was clear, and she dared to think she might make it.

But then an eight-foot wood demon stepped in her path.

And hope died.

The demon roared, showing rows of teeth like kitchen knives. It made Steave look puny by comparison, all thick twisted sinew covered by knobbed, barklike armor.

Leesha drew a ward in the air before her, silently praying that the Creator grant her a quick death. Tales said that demons consumed the soul as well as the body. She supposed she was about to find out.

The demon stalked toward her, closing the gap steadily, waiting to see which way she would try to run. Leesha knew she should do just that, but even had she not been paralyzed with fear, there was nowhere to run. The coreling stood between her and the only hope of succor.

There was a creak as Bruna’s front door opened, spilling more light into the yard. The demon turned as the old hag shuffled into view.

“Bruna!” Leesha cried. “Stay behind the wards! There’s a wood demon in the yard!”

“My eyes aren’t what they used to be, dearie,” Bruna replied, “but I’m not about to miss an ugly beast like that.”

She took another step forward, crossing her wards. Leesha screamed as the demon roared and launched itself toward the old woman.

Bruna stood her ground as the demon charged, dropping to all fours and moving with terrifying speed. She reached into her shawl, and pulled forth a small object, touching it to the flame of the lantern by the door. Leesha saw it catch fire.

The demon was nearly upon her when Bruna drew back her arm and threw. The object burst apart, covering the wood demon in liquid fire. The blaze lit up the night, and even from yards away, Leesha felt the flash of heat on her face.

The demon screamed, its momentum lost as it fell to the ground, rolling in the dirt in a desperate attempt to extinguish itself. The fire clung to it tenaciously, leaving the coreling thrashing and howling on the ground.

“Best come inside, Leesha,” Bruna advised as it burned, “lest you catch a chill.”

Leesha sat wrapped in one of Bruna’s shawls, staring at the steam rising off tea she had no desire to drink. The wood demon’s cries had gone on a long time before reducing to a whimper and fading away. She imagined the smoldering ruin in the yard, and thought she might retch.

Bruna sat nearby in her rocking chair, humming softly as she deftly worked a pair of knitting needles. Leesha could not understand her calm. She felt she might never be calm again.

The old Herb Gatherer had examined her wordlessly, grunting occasionally as she salved and bandaged Leesha’s wounds, few of which, it was clear, had come from her flight. She had also shown Leesha how to wad and insert clean cloth to stem the flow of blood between her legs, and warned her to change it frequently.

But now Bruna sat back as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, the clicks of her knitting and the crackle of the fire the only sounds in the room.

“What did you do to that demon?” Leesha asked, when she could stand it no longer.

“Liquid demonfire,” Bruna said. “Difficult to make. Very dangerous. But it’s the only thing I know that can stop a wood demon. Woodies are immune to normal flames, but liquid demonfire burns as hot as firespit.”

“I didn’t know anything could kill a demon,” Leesha said.

“I told you before, girl, that Herb Gatherers guard the science of the old world,” Bruna said. She grunted and spat on the floor. “A scant few of us, anyway. I may be the last to know that infernal recipe.”

“Why not share it?” Leesha said. “We could be free of the demons forever.”

Bruna cackled. “Free?” she asked. “Free to burn the village to the ground, perhaps. Free to set the woods on fire. No heat known can do more than tickle a flame demon, or give a rock demon pause. No fire can burn higher than a wind demon can soar, or set a lake or pond alight to reach a water demon.”

“But still,” Leesha pressed, “what you did tonight shows how useful it could be. You saved my life.”

Bruna nodded. “We keep the knowledge of the old world for the day it will be needed again, but that knowledge comes with a great responsibility. If the histories of the ancient wars of man tell us anything, it’s that men cannot be trusted with the secrets of fire.

“That’s why Herb Gatherers are always women,” she went on. “Men cannot hold such power without using it. I’ll sell thunder-sticks and festival crackers to Smitt, dearly, but I won’t tell him how they’re made.”

“Darsy’s a woman,” Leesha said, “but you never taught her, either.”

Bruna snorted. “Even if that cow was smart enough to mix the chemics without setting herself on fire, she’s practically a man in her thinking. I’d no sooner teach her to brew demonfire or flame powder than I would Steave.”

“They’re going to come looking for me tomorrow,” Leesha said.

Bruna pointed at Leesha’s cooling tea. “Drink,” she ordered. “We’ll deal with tomorrow when it comes.”

Leesha did as she was told, noting the sour taste of tampweed and the bitterness of skyflower as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Distantly, she was aware of dropping her cup.

Morning brought pain with it. Bruna put stiffroot in Leesha’s tea to dull the ache of her bruises and the cramps that clutched her abdomen, but the mixture played havoc with her senses. She felt as if she were floating above the cot she lay upon, and yet her limbs felt leaden.

Erny arrived not long after dawn. He burst into tears at the sight of her, kneeling by the cot and clutching her tightly. “I thought I’d lost you,” he sobbed.

Leesha reached out weakly, running her fingers through his thinning hair. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered.

“I should have stood up to your mother long ago,” he said.

“That’s undersaid,” Bruna grunted from her knitting. “No man should let his wife walk over him so.”

Erny nodded, having no retort. His face screwed up, and more tears appeared behind his spectacles.

There was a pounding at the door. Bruna looked at Erny, who went to open it.

“Is she here?” Leesha heard her mother’s voice, and the cramps doubled. She felt too weak to fight anymore. She couldn’t even find the strength to stand.

A moment later Elona appeared, Gared and Steave at her heels like a pair of hounds.

“There you are, you worthless girl!” Elona cried. “Do you know the fright you gave me, running off into the night like that? We’ve got half the village out looking for you! I should beat you within an inch of your life!”

“No one’s beating anyone, Elona,” Erny said. “If there’s blame to be had, it’s yours.”

“Shut up, Erny,” Elona said. “It’s your fault she’s so willful, coddling her all the time.”

“I won’t shut up,” Erny said, coming to face his wife.

“You will if you know what’s good for ya,” Steave warned, balling a fist.

Erny looked at him and swallowed hard. “I’m not afraid of you,” he said, but it came out as a squeak. Gared snickered.

Steave grabbed Erny by the front of his shirt, lifting him clear off the ground with one hand as he drew back his hamlike fist.

“You’re going to stop acting like a fool,” Elona told him, “and you,” she turned to Leesha, “are coming home with us this instant.”

“She’s not going anywhere,” Bruna said, setting down her knitting and leaning on her stick as she rose to her feet. “The only ones leaving are you three.”

“Shut it, you old witch,” Elona said. “I won’t let you ruin my daughter’s life the way you did mine.”

Bruna snorted. “Did I pour pomm tea down your throat and force you to open your legs all about town?” she asked. “Your misery is your own doing. Now get out of my hut.”

Elona rounded on her. “Or you’ll do what?” she challenged.

Bruna gave a toothless smile and slammed her stick down on Elona’s foot, bringing a scream from the younger woman’s lips. She followed the blow with one to the gut, doubling Elona over and cutting her outburst short.

“Here, now!” Steave cried. Tossing poor Erny aside, he and Gared rushed the old woman.

Bruna seemed no more concerned than she had at the wood demon’s charge. She reached into her shawl and brought forth a fistful of powder, blowing it into the faces of the two men.

Gared and Steave fell to the floor, clutching their faces and screaming.

“There’s more where that came from, Elona,” Bruna said. “I’ll see you all blind before I take orders in my own home.”

Elona scampered for the door on all fours, shielding her face with her arm as she went. Bruna laughed, helping Elona out the door with a powerful blow to the posterior.

“Off with you two!” she shouted at Gared and Steave. “Out, before I set you both afire!” The two men fumbled blindly, moaning in pain, their red faces awash in tears. Bruna swatted at them with her stick, guiding them out the door as she would a dog that had peed on the floor.

“Come back at your peril!” Bruna cackled wildly as they ran from her yard.

There was another knock, later in the day. Leesha was up and about by then, but still weak. “What now?” Bruna barked. “I haven’t had this many visitors in one day since my paps sagged!”

She stomped over to the door, opening it to find Smitt standing there, wringing his hands nervously. Bruna’s eyes narrowed as she regarded him.

“I’m retired,” she said. “Fetch Darsy.” She started to close the door.

“Wait, please,” Smitt begged, reaching out to hold the door open. Bruna scowled, and he drew the hand back as if it had been burned.

“I’m waiting,” Bruna said testily.

“It’s Ande,” Smitt said, referring to one of the men hurt in the attack that week. “The wound in his gut started to rot, so Darsy cut him, and now he’s passing blood from both ends.”

Bruna spat on Smitt’s boots. “I told you this would happen,” she said.

“I know,” Smitt said. “You were right. I should have listened. Please come back. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Bruna grunted. “I won’t make Ande pay for your stupidity,” she said. “But I’ll hold you at your word, don’t you think for a second I won’t!”

“Anything,” Smitt promised again.

“Erny!” Bruna barked. “Fetch my herb cloth! Smitt here can carry it. You help your daughter along. We’re going to town.”

Leesha leaned on her father’s arm as they went. She was afraid she would slow them, but even in her weakened state she could keep pace with Bruna’s slow shuffle.

“I should make you carry me on your back,” Bruna grumped to Smitt as they went. “My old legs aren’t as fast as they once were.”

“I’ll carry you, if you wish,” Smitt said. “Don’t be an idiot,” Bruna said.

Half the village was gathered outside the Holy House. There was a general sigh of relief as Bruna appeared, and whispers at the sight of Leesha, with her torn dress and bruises.

The crone ignored everyone, shoving people out of the way with her stick and going right inside. Leesha saw Gared and Steave lying on cots with damp cloth over their eyes, and swallowed a smirk. Bruna had explained that the pepper and stinkweed she dosed them with would do no permanent damage, but she hoped Darsy had not known enough to tell them that. Elona’s eyes shot daggers at her from their side.

Bruna went straight to Ande’s cot. He was bathed in sweat, and stank. His skin was yellowed, and the cloth wrapped around his loins was stained with blood, urine, and feces. Bruna looked at him and spat. Darsy sat nearby. It was clear she had been crying.