Renna sat in a corner as Arlen taught the council combat warding in Hog’s back room. Dasy and Catrin were in and out serving fresh pots of coffee. They watched Renna suspiciously, as if expecting her to suddenly leap up and attack them with Harl’s knife, which lay on the table beside her. She’d painted wards on the blade in a neat hand and now worked with one of Arlen’s fine etching tools, slowly imprinting them onto the metal. Arlen came by once, trying to see her work, but she turned away from him. She was done asking for help.
Dawn’s light was creeping through the cracks in the shutters by the time the Speakers finished, each standing up with a roll of vellum in their hands.
Arlen spoke with Hog a few moments longer, then came over to her. “You all right?”
Renna nodded, swallowing a yawn. “Just tired.”
Arlen nodded and put his hood back up. “Might be you can catch a couple hours’ sleep back at the farm while Hog readies the supplies we need to head back.” He snorted. “The old crook had the stones to charge for them, even after I handed him means to make a fortune.”
“Dunno why you expected different,” Renna said.
“Leaving town then?” Selia asked as they went for the door. “You turn the Brook on its head, and then ride off before you see what comes of it?”
“Town was already on its head when I arrived,” Arlen said. “Reckon I set it aright.”
Selia nodded. “Maybe you did at that. What news from the Free Cities? Are they all warding weapons and killing corelings?”
“The Free Cities ent your concern right now,” Arlen said. “When the Brook is free of demons, you can look to the wider world.”
Jeorje Watch thumped his new spear on the floor. “Tend your own field, before you look to you neighbor’s,” he quoted, a popular verse from the Canon.
Arlen turned to Rusco Hog. “I want copies made and sent to the Speakers of Sunny Pasture.”
“Well, that won’t be cheap,” Hog began. “The vellum alone will cost near twenty credits, plus having them penned—”
Arlen cut him off, holding up a heavy gold coin. Hog’s eyes bulged at the size and thickness of it. “If they don’t get their wards, I’ll hear of it,” he said when Hog took the coin, “and make vellum out of your hide.”
Renna saw Hog’s ruddy complexion pale, and even though he was larger by far, he shrank back from Arlen’s stare and swallowed hard. “Two weeks,” he said. “Honest word.”
“Learned to bully a bit, yourself,” she noted quietly when he came back to her. He didn’t look at her, and his hood was still up. For a moment, she thought he might not have heard.
“Got whole lessons on it, during my Messenger training,” he said, dropping the gravelly pitch he used when speaking to everyone else. She could picture the grin on his warded lips.
Hog opened the doors to the store, and there was a huge crowd waiting on the steps. “Back!” he bellowed. “Clear a path for the Speakers! Ent taking a single order until you do!” Folk grumbled at the risk of losing their places in line, but they made way, letting them pass.
Raddock Lawry was waiting at the front of the crowd as Renna descended the steps of Hog’s porch. “This ent over, Renna Tanner! Can’t hide up at Jeph’s farm forever.”
“Ent hidin’ from no one no more,” Renna said, looking him in the eye. “I’m leavin’ this corespawned town, and ent ever comin’ back.” Raddock opened his mouth to reply, but Arlen raised a warded finger at him and he fell silent, glaring at them as Arlen laced his hands into a step to help her onto Twilight Dancer’s back.
He pulled a small book from his saddlebag, turning and scanning the crowd. Spotting Coline Trigg, he strode over to her. The Herb Gatherer stumbled back from him, tripping over those behind her and going down in a shrieking heap.
Arlen waited for her to right herself, face flushed red with embarrassment, and then pressed the book into her hands. “Everything I know about treating demon wounds is in there,” he told her. “You’re smart, you’ll learn it quick and pass it on.”
Coline’s eyes were wide, but she nodded. Arlen grunted and leapt into the saddle.
Arlen left Jeph’s farm around noon to fetch the promised supplies from Hog. “Pack your things,” he said as he left. “We’ll leave as soon as I get back.”
Renna nodded and watched him go. She had nothing to pack, not even back at Harl’s farm. Only Selia’s dress on her back, her father’s knife at her waist, and the brook stone necklace Cobie had given her, still looped twice around her neck. She wished she had something to offer Arlen in exchange for taking her, but she had nothing but herself. Cobie had thought it enough, but she doubted Arlen would be so easily paid.
Ilain came out onto the porch to stand next to her as she sat etching her father’s blade.
“Brought somethin’ to eat on your trip,” she said, holding out a basket. “Hog cooks so food’ll keep more’n he does for taste. His bacon’s more smoke than meat.”
“Thanks,” Renna said, taking the basket. She looked at her sister, whom she’d missed desperately for so many years, and wondered why she had nothing else to say to her.
“You don’t have to go, Ren,” Ilain said.
“Yes I do,” Renna said.
“That Messenger’s a hard man, Renna, and we don’t know nothin’ about him other than he kills demons,” Ilain said. “Could be worse’n Da a long sight. You’re safer here with us. After last night, folk’ll hold their peace with you.”
“Hold their peace,” Renna said. “Reckon that makes it sunny they tried to stake me.”
“So you gonna just run off with some stranger crazy enough to scar himself with wards?” Ilain asked.
Renna stood up and snorted. “If that ent the night calling it dark! You din’t love Jeph Bales when you ran away with him, Lainie. Din’t know anything other than he was the sort would take a new wife when the old one wasn’t even cold.”
Ilain slapped Renna, but she didn’t flinch, her eyes hard, and it was Ilain who recoiled.
“Difference ’tween us, Lainie,” she said, “is I ent running away. I’m runnin’ to.”
“Runnin’ to?” Ilain asked.
Renna nodded. “Tibbet’s Brook ent a place I want to live, where folk let a man like Da do as he will, and put me out in the night. I dunno what the Free Cities are like, but they got to be better than here.”
She leaned in, lowering her voice so none might overhear.
“I killed Da, Lainie,” she said, holding up the half-warded knife. “I did. Killed that son of the Core good. He needed killing, not just for what he done, but what he woulda done, I hadn’t. Da never paid for anything an ounce of cruelty could take.”
“Renna!” Ilain cried, recoiling as if her sister had become a coreling.
Renna shook her head and spat over the porch rail. “You had any stones, you’d’ve done it yourself long since, when Beni and I were still young’uns.”
Ilain’s eyes widened, but she said nothing, and Renna couldn’t tell if it was guilt or shock. Renna turned away, looking out at the yard.
“Don’t blame you,” she said after a bit. “I’d had stones, I’d’ve done it myself the night he stuck me. But I din’t, ’cause I was scared.”
She turned back and met Ilain’s eyes. “But I ent scared no more, Lainie. Not of Raddock Lawry or Garric Fisher, and not of this Messenger. I expect he’s a good man, but he turns out like Da, I’ll do the world a favor and kill him, too. Sure as the sun rises.”
The Warded Man came riding fast into the yard a couple of hours later. Renna was waiting on the porch, and came out to him as Twilight Dancer pranced and kicked up dust in the yard.
“Light’s wasting,” he said, not even bothering to dismount. He held a hand out to her.
“You’re not even going to say goodbye?” Renna asked.
“Life’s about to get real interesting in the Brook,” he said. “Best no one have cause to think I got anything more to do with Jeph and Lainie Bales than stealing you.”
But Renna shook her head. “Your da deserves better than you’ve given him.”
He glared at her. “Ent gonna tell him who I am,” he growled.
Renna was uncowed. “Least tell him his son ent dead, or you got no call judgin’ which folk are good enough for your wards and which ent.” The Warded Man scowled, but he dismounted. Renna was right and he knew it, much as he hated to admit it.
“We’re off!” she cried, and everyone came running from all over the yard. The Warded Man looked at his father and nodded away from the press. Jeph followed.
“Rode caravan with an Arlen Bales in the Messengers’ Guild,” he said when they were alone. “Mighta been your son. Bales name is common everywhere, but Arlen not so much.”
Jeph’s eyes lit up. “Honest word?”
The Warded Man nodded. “It was years ago, but I recall he worked for Cob’s Warding Company in Fort Miln. Might be you can still get word of him there.”
Jeph reached out, grabbing one of the Warded Man’s hands in both of his own. “Sun shine on you, Messenger.”
The Warded Man nodded and pulled away, going over to Renna. “Light’s wasting,” he said again. She nodded this time and let him lift her into Twilight Dancer’s saddle. He climbed in ahead of her, and she held his waist as he trotted to the road and turned north.
“Ent the road to the Free Cities south?” Renna asked.
“Know a shortcut,” he said. “Faster, and we avoid the town altogether.” Twilight Dancer opened up his stride, and they flew up the road. The wind whipped through Renna’s hair, and he joined her as she gave a laugh of exhilaration.
True to his word, Arlen remembered every path and pasture of the local farms in the north of Tibbet’s Brook. Before Renna knew it, they were on the main road out of town, past even Mack Pasture’s farm.
They rode hard for the rest of the day and were well on the way to the Free Cities when he finally pulled up, with barely a quarter hour before sunset.
“Ent we cutting it close?” she asked.
Arlen shrugged. “Got time enough to set the circles. I was alone, might not stop at all.”
“Then don’t,” Renna said, swallowing her fear at the thought of the naked night. “Promised I wan’t gonna slow you.”
He ignored her, dismounting and pulling two portable circles from the saddlebags. He threw one over Twilight Dancer and the other in a small clearing, quickly aligning the wards.
Renna swallowed, but she did not protest. Stiffening, she clutched her knife and looked around, waiting for the demon mist to rise. Arlen glanced up and noticed her discomfort. He straightened from his work, going over and rummaging through his saddlebags.
“Ay, there it is,” he said at last, opening a cloak with a snap and throwing it over Renna’s shoulders. He tied it in place and put up the hood.
The cloth against her cheek was impossibly soft, like a kitten’s fur. Used to rough homespun, the fabric was finer than she imagined possible. She looked down and gasped again. There were wards sewn into the fabric with stitches impossibly small. Hundreds of them.
“That’s a Cloak of Unsight,” Arlen said. “So long as you keep wrapped in it, no demon will even know you’re there.”
“Honest word?” she asked, amazed.
“Swear by the sun,” Arlen said, and suddenly she realized that she was still clutching her knife. Her knuckles ached from the grip when she finally relaxed and let go. She took her first full breath in what seemed like an hour.
Arlen bent back to the circles and quickly had them ready, while she laid a firepit and took out Ilain’s basket. They sat together a time, sharing cold meat pies and ham, fresh vegetables, bread, and cheese. Corelings threw themselves at the wards occasionally, but Renna trusted in Arlen’s warding and paid them no mind.
“You sit the saddle awkward in that big dress,” Arlen said.
“Eh?” Renna said.
“Can’t give Dancer his full head with you not seated right,” he explained.
“He goes even faster?” Renna asked in disbelief.
Arlen laughed. “Much.”
She leaned over to him, putting her arms around his shoulders. “If you’re looking to get me out of my dress, Arlen Bales, just say so.” She smiled, but Arlen recoiled, putting his hands on her waist and lifting her off him like she might lift Mrs. Scratch from her lap. He was on his feet immediately.
“Din’t bring you for that, Ren,” he said, backing away.
“You ent takin’ advantage,” she said, confused.
“Ent about that,” Arlen said, taking a sewing kit out of a saddlebag. He threw it to her, turning away. “Divide your skirts, and do it quick. We have business yet tonight.”
“Business?” Renna asked.
“You’re killing a demon by dawn,” Arlen said, “or I’m dropping you in the next town.”
“Done,” Renna called. She’d removed her petticoat and shortened the skirt, slitting it high on each side. Arlen looked up from where he sat warding an arrow at the edge of the circle, and his eyes danced across her bared thighs.
“Like what you see?” she asked, and smirked at his discomfort as he started and quickly met her eyes. “Come into the firelight, you want a better look.”
Arlen looked at his hand for a moment, slowly rubbing his warded fingers together, his eyes in distant thought. Finally he shook his head and got to his feet, coming over to her.
“You trust me, Ren?” he asked.
She nodded, and he took out a brush and some thick, viscous ink. “This is blackstem,” he said. “It will stain your skin for a few days; perhaps a week.”
Carefully, almost lovingly, he brushed her long hair from her face and painted wards around her eyes. When he was finished, he blew gently on them to dry the ink. His lips were inches from hers, and she wanted to put her mouth against them, but she still felt the sting of his rejection and dared not.
When his warding was done, he looked at her. “What do you see beyond the firelight?”
Renna looked around. The night was near pitch dark. “Nothing.”
Arlen nodded and laid his hands on her eyes. They were rough hands, scarred and callused, but gentle, as well. There was a soothing tingle in her skin where he touched, and she shivered in pleasure. He took his hands away, and the sensation faded, but the wards around her eyes felt warm now.
“What do you see now?” he asked.
Renna looked around, amazed. Trees and plants now glowed of their own accord, and there was a glowing mist seeping about her feet like a low and lazy fog. “Everything,” she said in wonder. “More’n I see in the sun. It’s all glowing.”
“You’re seeing magic,” Arlen said. “It seeps up from the Core and gives all living things a spark of it that makes them glow.”
“Their soul?” Renna asked.
Arlen shrugged. “I ent a Tender. Corelings are infused with it, and will flare brightly to your eyes now.”
Renna turned toward a rustle in the brush, and a wood demon there, invisible a moment before, now shone in the magic-lit world. She looked at her own hands, glowing only faintly. Twilight Dancer was brighter, wards on his hooves and harness glowing like stars in the sky.
But it was Arlen who shone brightest, the wards on his skin positively brimming over with power. It looked as if they were written in light, permanently activated.
“Too many wards,” Arlen said, noticing her stare and putting his hood up. “Soaked up too much demon magic to ever be just a man again.”
“Why would you want to give up such power?” Renna asked.
Arlen paused, seeming confused. He opened his mouth and closed it. “Don’t know I would,” he admitted at last. “But it ent a choice you can take back, and I wan’t in my right head when I made it.” He pointed at Renna. “You ent in your right head, either.”
“Who are you, Arlen Bales, to tell me when my head is right?” Renna demanded.
He ignored her in that infuriating way he had, taking up a spear and handing it to her. She looked at it doubtfully, and made no effort to take it.
“Speakers all done it,” Arlen reminded her.
“Know that,” Renna said, “but if I’m gonna fight, it’ll be with my own knife.” She had finished etching the piercing and cutting wards, if nothing else. She held it out for him to inspect.
“It’s a fine blade,” Arlen noted when he took it. He touched the edge to his thumb, drawing blood with almost no pressure. “Sharp enough to shave.”
“Da cared for it better than he did his own kin,” Renna said.
Arlen looked at her but said nothing. He held the knife this way and that, inspecting the etched wards. “Good warding,” he admitted with a touch of contrition. “Good as any I’ve seen. Could do with more, but this is enough to start.” He handed it back, pommel-first, and Renna grunted as she took it.
“All that’s left is to test it,” Arlen said. “Time to leave the circle.”
Renna had known all along it would be necessary, but she could not suppress the wave of fear that overcame her at that moment, like welling vomit. She’d told her sister that she wasn’t scared of anything anymore, but it wasn’t entirely true. She might not be scared of men, but corelings … Memories of her night in the outhouse still haunted her, startling her sometimes even when she was awake.
Arlen put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re miles from nowhere, Ren. Corelings cluster where there’s people to hunt, or big game. Won’t be but a few out here. You got your cloak, and I’m right here.”
“To save me,” Renna said. He nodded, and she felt a flash of anger. She was tired of waiting for others to save her, but she looked at a wood demon stalking the edge of the road and shivered. “Ent ready for this,” she admitted, hating to show her weakness.
But Arlen didn’t berate her as he did the Speakers. “Know you’re scared spitless,” he said. “I was, too, my first time. But I learned in Krasia to embrace my fear.”
“How’s that?” Renna asked.
“Open yourself to the feeling,” he said, “and then step your mind back to a place beyond.”
Renna snorted. “That don’t make any sense.”
“Does,” Arlen said. “Seen boys half my age charge demons with nothing more than a wardless spear between ’em. Seen ’em ignore pain and keep fighting like everything’s sunny till they win or drop dead. Fear and pain can only touch you if you let them.”
“Honest word?” Renna asked.
He nodded, and Renna closed her eyes, opening herself up to the sick feeling of her fear. The tension in her limbs and rolling of her stomach. The clenching of her fists and the coldness of her face. When she felt she was aware of it all, she ignored the lot.
Arlen lifted a finger, pointing to a small wood demon clinging to a nearby tree. It would otherwise have blended with the trunk perfectly, but now it glowed fiercely to her warded eyes, a stark contrast with the dimmer glow of the tree.
Trusting in her cloak, Renna left the circle and walked calmly to the demon. It sniffed the air with a look of vague curiosity, but gave no sign it sensed her proximity. Before she realized what she was doing, she stabbed it in the back. The wards flared, and the demon’s barklike armor parted easily. There was a shock up her right arm as if she had just put the whole arm in a roaring fire, a pain that pulsed with ecstasy.
The demon threw back and shrieked, but Renna pulled the blade free and stabbed again. And again. A moment later, the demon hit the ground, sending the magic mist flowing away in tiny eddies and whorls.
Renna straightened, inhaling a breath sweet with summer air. She felt stronger, more alive, than she ever had in her life.
Across the road, she caught a glimpse of a flame demon’s glowing eyes, and this time, she didn’t hesitate, her eyes hard as she charged and dropped to one knee, putting the blade right through its head. This time, she relished the pain of the magic as the demon thrashed and collapsed. Black ichor struck the ground, smoking and starting small fires where it landed.
The original wood demon she had seen on the road was six feet tall, and noticed the commotion. She could have hidden behind her cloak, but the thought never occurred to her as Renna snarled and launched herself at it. The demon roared and took a swipe at her, but Renna was fast and strong like she had never dreamed, and she laughed as she dodged the clumsy attack and put her knife in its chest. This time, it was just like gutting a pig.
She looked around, breathing hard, but not in exhaustion. It felt more like … lust. She wanted there to be more demons. Wanted there to be a horde of them.
But there were none.
“Told you,” Arlen said, smiling. He gathered the circles back up and took Twilight Dancer’s reins. “Let’s go for a ride in the naked night. Free.”
Renna nodded, vaulting easily into the giant stallion’s saddle without touching the stirrup. She took the front position, leaving room for Arlen to climb in behind her. He laughed and leapt into place as easily as she had. He put his arms about her and she kicked Twilight Dancer, giving a whoop of glee as the stallion leapt forward and they galloped down the glowing night road.
It had been a full turn since the coreling prince glimpsed its prey in the walled breeding ground. It was forced to spend two nights tracking the one, coming at last to soar above an abandoned ruin thick with his scent. Fresh wards protected the structure, strong ones, but easily breached nonetheless.
There was no need, however, as the mind demon spotted the human mind moving through the woods far from the walls.
With a flap of it gargantuan wings, the mimic banked and soared toward the human, silent as death. The mind demon reached out with its thoughts, seeking access to the one’s thoughts, but it was turned away by powerful warding. It hissed, but as it spread its probe wider, it discovered he was not alone. The human mind traveled with a female whose mind was as open as the sky. It slipped quietly into her thoughts and rested unnoticed, seeing through her eyes.
Renna stabbed hard into the wood demon, twisting the blade up into its heart. Next to her, Arlen had wrestled the other one to the ground, holding it prone while the killing wards all over his body did their work.
There was a growl, and Renna looked up to see a third demon appear in the branches above her. She twisted as it dropped, but caught the hilt of her knife on the ridged armor of the first demon. The coreling fell dead, and the weapon was twisted from her grasp.
“Demonshit,” she said, dropping to her back and coiling her legs as Arlen had taught her. She caught the wood demon’s branchlike arms and pulled them aside as she kicked out, using its own momentum against it. The demon landed right in front of Arlen, who crushed its skull.
“You’d let me paint my knuckles, I could do that myself,” Renna said.
“Ent no need to ward your skin,” he told her. “Knife’s good enough for now.”
Renna went over to the wood demon, pulling her knife free. She held it up for Arlen to see. “Din’t have the knife.”
“You handled it well enough without.”
“Only because you wern’t still wrestlin’ that other one,” Renna said. “Ent looking to use a needle, only a brush and some blackstem.”
Arlen frowned at her. “Feedback’s different when the wards are on your skin, Ren. Strong enough to lose yourself in. I was lost a long time after I started doing it, and I ent myself even now. Don’t want to see that happen to you. You mean too much to me.”
“I do?” Renna asked.
“Good to have someone to talk to other than Dancer,” Arlen said, oblivious to her sudden interest. “I … get lonely.”
“Lonely,” Renna echoed. “Know what that’s like. Apt to lose yourself there, too. World’s full of things to lose yourself in. Don’t mean we should spend our whole lives behind the wards.”
Arlen looked at her a long time. Finally, he shrugged. “Can’t tell you what to do, Ren. You want to ignore me and paint your hands, it’s on you.”
The coreling prince observed the courting for several more minutes, amused by human mating rituals. It was clear the one barely understood his magic, oblivious to the mind demon’s presence or the extent of his own powers. He had the potential to be a unifier, but here in the wilderness he was no threat and could be safely observed.
The demon let go the female’s surface thoughts, probing more deeply into her mind for information on the one, but there was little of value. It planted a question on her lips.
“How’d you bring back the lost wards?” Renna asked, surprising herself. She knew Arlen hated to talk about what had happened to him after he left the Brook.
“Told you. Found them in a ruin,” Arlen said.
“What ruin? Where?” she pressed.
“What does it matter?” Arlen snapped. “It ent some Jongleur’s saga.”
Renna shook her head to clear it. “I’m sorry. Dunno why I got so interested. Dun’t matter. Ent lookin’ to pry.”
Arlen grunted and headed off toward the keep they had spent the last few weeks warding while he trained her to hunt demons.
The coreling prince hissed as the one refused the question. Logic said to kill them both, but there was no urgency. The number of wards around their shelter suggested they would not leave soon. It could observe another few cycles.
As the humans crossed the wards, the mind demon was cut off from the female’s mind. A moment later the mimic landed in a clearing and turned to mist, guarding the path as the coreling prince slipped back down to the Core to consider.