The Daylight War by Peter V. Brett
Arlen breathed deeply and Drew more power than he had ever dared, pulling on the Hollow’s entire wardnet. He felt his insides burning with the power, and knew he could not contain it long without being consumed.
‘Brace yourselves,’ he told the Hollowers, his voice carrying to every ear. Then he lifted two fingers and wrote wards of heat and air, giving shape to the energy as he released it. A huge blast of wind sprang forth, sweeping the smoke away and huffing out the flames like born-day candles.
He felt dizzy as the magic swept through his body and left, but there was no time to waste. He Drew on the greatward again, this time drawing wards to cast brilliant white light into the air, momentarily turning night into day. There, revealed in the light, were the flame demons, eyes and mouths glowing as they stood frozen, frightened by the sudden glare.
This time when the magic left him, Arlen staggered. Renna was there in an instant, grabbing one of his arms. A moment later Rojer caught the other.
Arlen let them steady him, Drawing a touch more power to send his voice carrying to the archers.
‘Fire.’
23
Trap
333 AR Autumn
First Night of New Moon
Rojer heard the collective hum of bowstrings and the cries of the flame demons as the Hollowers exterminated them.
Rojer was still getting used to the wardsight his mask imparted, but a moment earlier he had seen Arlen glowing as bright as the sun. Now he was dim. Dimmer even than normal folk.
‘Back to the greatward,’ Arlen commanded after a moment. ‘Now.’ The light he conjured began to fail, and he slumped further, suddenly putting his full weight on Renna and Rojer. Rojer stumbled, but Renna tugged them both back upright as effortlessly as she might a small child. Quick as a cat, Rojer had his feet back under him.
He glanced up and saw the first of the Haveners returning, a triumphant look on their faces.
‘Pull yourself together,’ he said through his teeth. ‘I don’t know what that did to you, but these people need to see you on your feet.’
‘Don’t you tell him …!’ Renna began, but Arlen cut her off.
‘No, he’s right,’ Arlen said. ‘I just need a moment to …’ The luminescent mist at his feet began to rush into him, restoring his glow. He stood again, pulling free of their support. ‘There.’
The Haveners took their positions around the border once more, and Gared and the rest of the scouting party returned to where Arlen, Renna, and Rojer stood, oblivious to his moment of weakness. In the distance, the crashing sound of falling trees and ground-shaking rumble of torn stone continued unabated.
‘What in the Core are they doing?’ Gared shouted above the din.
‘It’s a trap,’ Rojer said. ‘Trying to lure us out farther.’
Arlen shook his head. ‘Why make so much noise if it’s a trap? They’re doing something. Bet my stones on it.’
‘What do we do?’ Gared asked.
‘We aren’t going to do anything,’ Arlen said. ‘I am going out to have a look.’
Renna shook her head. ‘We are going for a look.’
Arlen looked at her, and she shot him a hard glare in return. ‘Arlen Bales, don’t you think for one second I’m letting you go out there alone.’
‘Sure as spit ent asking anyone else to,’ Arlen said. ‘Drones can’t hurt me, Ren. I’ll be fine.’
‘That mimic demon hurt you,’ Renna said. ‘And the mind did worse.’
‘Ay, but now I know how to hurt ’em right back,’ Arlen said.
‘You hurt one of them,’ Renna reminded him, ‘and only after I snuck up in your warded cloak and stabbed it in the back. Who knows how many are out there tonight?’
‘Maybe it’s not a trap for us,’ Rojer said. ‘I think maybe it’s a trap for you.’
Arlen looked at him blankly.
‘He’s right,’ Renna said. ‘Second you step off the greatward, you’ll stand out like a lantern in the dark. They’ll be on you in an instant.’
Rojer bit his lip. Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it.
‘I’ll go,’ he said, and cursed himself. Everyone looked at him in surprise, and Rojer couldn’t blame them. He was not known for his bravery, but there was no other way. He was proud of the power he had brought back to the world with the Song of Waning, but after seeing what Arlen had just done, there was no doubt which of them was more expendable.
Arlen shook his head. ‘Don’t know your power will even work on a mind demon. Can get a cat to chase a bit of reflected light all afternoon, and drones ent much smarter, but you don’t try that trick on people.’
Rojer shrugged. ‘Even people can be blinded when you shine a light in their eyes. And didn’t I just hear Renna say Leesha’s cloak fooled it?’ He grabbed the hem of his warded motley cloak, turning a spin to let it spread out.
‘Rojer, I can’t let you—’ Arlen began.
‘No, I can’t let you,’ Rojer said. ‘I may not be able to put out forest fires with a wave of my hand, but I can do this.’
‘We can do this,’ Gared said, coming over to stand beside him. ‘Goin’ with you. Cloak Darsy made me ent as fine as yurs, but it ent ever failed me.’
‘That’s because you rarely ever use it.’ Rojer shook his head. ‘Your place is with your troops, General.’
Gared spat at his feet. ‘You may be a right little prick sometimes, Rojer, but I’ll be corespawned before I let you go out there alone.’
Rojer felt his throat tighten, but swallowed the feeling behind his Jongleur’s mask. He wanted to argue further, but in truth he felt safer with Gared than he’d ever admit.
‘Coming too,’ Renna said, pulling her own Cloak of Unsight from the bag slung over Promise’s harness and throwing it around her shoulders.
‘Ren.’ Arlen’s voice was pleading as he caught her arm.
She turned and locked stares with him. ‘Said it yourself. You can’t fret the small stuff. You’ve got mind demons to hunt, and I need to protect folk when you can’t.’
He stared at her, and she put a gentle hand on his cheek. ‘I’ll be careful, and bring them back alive.’ At last he nodded, then swept her into a hug, kissing her deeply.
‘Ay!’ Gared said. ‘Spare us the newlywed display!’
Leesha eyed Amanvah as she and Sikvah lounged on a silk couch in Thamos’ tent, their silent guardian standing over them protectively.
The count had erected the pavilion at the edge of the Corelings’ Graveyard to wait for reports and direct his forces. As usual, he had furnished the tent with all the trappings of his royal station and wealth. Inside, the walls hung with lavish tapestries, and the rugs were thick fur, soft as a kitten. The furniture was heavy polished wood, ornate, with gold inlays and filigree. And, of course, he had brought a throne.
But with those trappings of royalty came the responsibilities of etiquette. Amanvah and Sikvah might be enemies, but they were princesses in their own right, blood of the Krasian leader. Their station demanded nothing less than proper royal treatment, including access to Thamos’ tent and his every courtesy. The boy set to serve them was of noble birth, and he scurried to and fro in terror as Sikvah snapped orders at him and cursed his slowness. Amanvah knelt silently beside her, head cocked to one side.
Listening to Rojer.
The thought galled Leesha. Amanvah had tried to murder her, yet still Rojer trusted her with everything that was happening, while Leesha and Thamos were left in the dark. Wives or no, Leesha had been with him every day for almost two years. How could he trust them more than her?
I should have warded Gared’s helmet the same way and not told him, she thought, and immediately felt a pang of guilt. What right did she have to invade even Gared’s privacy that way?
No. She shook her head. That’s the dama’ting way. I’d sooner become Elona than take up their methods.
But Creator, how she wished she could hear what was happening!
Suddenly Amanvah hissed and b
Leesha could bear it no longer. ‘What is it? What’s happened?’
Amanvah looked at her for a moment, considering her words. ‘My honoured husband is brave, but a fool.’
‘We all have a little of each in us, at times,’ Leesha said.
Amanvah nodded, drawing a steadying breath as her dama’ting calm returned. ‘It is inevera.’
‘Is he all right?’ Leesha said.
Amanvah whisked a hand. ‘For now. He has volunteered to go into the night.’
‘Why?’ Leesha asked. That didn’t sound like the Rojer she knew.
‘They apparently believe the demons will sense the Par’chin’s power if he leaves the greatward,’ Amanvah said. ‘And so the Par’chin has sent my honoured husband, the oaf Gared, and his own Jiwah Ka out into the night to do his scouting.’ One of Amanvah’s eyebrows curled, but with her veil in place Leesha could not tell what the gesture signified. ‘His very name means bravery, but he commands others to leave the greatward when he fears to do so himself. He is a coward after all.’
‘And what does that make me, waiting here in the centre?’ Thamos demanded. All eyes turned to the count, and Leesha could see the tension in his face. Leesha remembered how he had been abed that first night, and the tales Darsy had told of the count’s fear of demons, and how his need to conquer that fear led to erratic acts of bravery. He was terrified of being labelled a coward and losing the respect of his people. ‘A leader must be free to direct his forces.’
Amanvah snorted, sparing him a dismissive glance. ‘My holy father does not sit on his throne after the sun sets, and he is the greatest leader the world has ever seen. You are chin, and your cowardice is expected, but the Par’chin was said to be different.’
Thamos looked enraged, what little temper was left to him quickly evaporating. In a moment, he would begin shouting, and it would go poorly for everyone.
Leesha stepped between them, locking stares with Amanvah. ‘With respect, Amanvah, I have seen your honoured father send men, even his own sons, far into the night to do his scouting. I know you worry for your husband, but Rojer has gone into the night hundreds of times. He’ll be all right.’
‘How can you claim to know what even the dice will not say?’ Amanvah asked.
‘I can’t,’ Leesha admitted. ‘But I have faith.’
Amanvah blinked, then nodded. ‘It is inevera.’ She breathed to calm herself, moving back to her corner of the tent and kneeling once again in meditation as she listened.
Rojer held his fiddle and bow in his good left hand as they stepped out into the naked night, trusting in the cloaks to protect them. His right hand he kept free. Even with just three fingers, he could flick a warded knife into it and throw in seconds.
‘I’ll lead,’ Renna said. ‘Used to seeing in the dark.’ Neither Rojer nor Gared cared to argue. He was still adjusting to the mask Amanvah had given him. He could see well enough that he wasn’t apt to run into anything or miss a passing demon, but the swirls of coloured magic clinging to everything were distracting and confusing, making him feel as unsure as if in a thick morning fog.
As Renna moved ahead, right at the edge of their wardsight, Rojer turned to Gared. ‘You’re right I took you for granted. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. Sometimes I get so caught up in my own drama I forget I’m not the only one in the play.’
Gared grunted. ‘It’s a fallen tree. No point climbing it.’
Rojer turned to face him. ‘I know, I just—’
‘We’re out in the naked night, Rojer,’ Gared cut in, ‘and I feel like I’m caught inside a ripping rainbow cloud. Ent mad at you any more. Now eyes in front.’
Rojer nodded, turning his gaze this way and that, but as he did, something unclenched inside him. One less thing to fret over. Now all I need to worry about is being eaten by demons.
The walk was agonizingly slow. Leesha’s Cloaks of Unsight had never failed, but needed to be wrapped close around the wearer, and they could not move too quickly. Rojer and Renna were more practised, setting the pace for Gared.
Just beyond the tree line they began to see signs of the flame demons’ play: blackened trunks and scorched ground that had once been the fertile forest bed. Their boots and the hems of their cloaks became black with ash.
Ahead, the sounds of ongoing destruction were like nothing Rojer had ever heard. Instinct screamed at him to turn and run in the other direction, but he steeled himself and kept putting one foot in front of the other as they picked their way through the trees.
They did not have to go far. The woods ended abruptly, violently, in a place of utter devastation. All the thundersticks Leesha had ever made could not have done a fraction of the damage. The ground was blackened and blasted, with great piles of loose soil next to huge gaping holes where whole trees and heavy stones had been torn free.
There was something repellent about the place. A wrongness Rojer could sense in every fibre of his body. They did not belong here.
Field demons, sleek and low to the ground, prowled the area, climbing atop the piles and sniffing the air. Above, wind demons circled.
Renna drifted back to them. ‘Too many places for demons to hide. We stay close from here on.’
Rojer and Gared nodded, the three of them moving deeper into the destruction. Huge piles of stones stood twenty feet high, as did stacks of trees. Rojer looked at one of the stone piles, then back the way they had come. ‘How far do you think a rock demon could throw one of those?’
Gared considered the pile, then he, too, glanced back. ‘A big one? Too far for my liking.’
‘They’re stockpiling,’ Rojer said. ‘We should go back and—’
‘Not yet,’ Renna interrupted. ‘If that’s all they’re doing, where are all the rock and wood demons?’
Rojer swallowed the lump in his throat, knowing she was right. They kept on, skirting around the piles of wood and rock that might soon be hurtling at Newhaven. At last, they peeked around a giant mound of dirt and saw the demons at work.
The land had been cleared, and huge trenches were being dug by wood and rock demons, as well as some other breeds Rojer could not recognize. The trenches were twenty feet wide and over ten deep, but the demons swept the dirt away with their great claws as if it were nothing more than dry leaves. When they came to a large stone, it was torn free of the ground and carried to one of the many piles.
‘What are they doing?’ Gared asked, looking at the seemingly random series of trenches. ‘Building a defensive perimeter? That don’t sound like demons.’
‘These are smart demons,’ Renna reminded him. ‘There’s a mind, or more than one, nearby directing them.’
‘Still don’t make sense,’ Gared said. ‘Demons flee with the sun. What’s the point of taking and holding ground?’
Rojer looked, his eyes running over the precise shapes forming in the ground, and felt his face go cold, suddenly putting a name to the feeling of repulsion he had been feeling steadily increase as they approached.
‘They’re building a greatward.’
Gared and Renna both snapped their gazes at him, and Rojer felt a sudden pressure in his bladder. Creator, I’m about to piss myself.
Wordlessly, he ran back around the great pile of dirt, throwing open his cloak and yanking the drawstrings of his motley trousers. He barely had his member in hand before the stream came pouring out.
‘Ahhh,’ he gasped, but his relief was short-lived as a low growl sounded a few feet away. Rojer looked up and saw a field demon tamping its feet to spring.
He fell back with a cry as it launched itself at him, getting tangled in his still-undone trousers and landing heavily on his back. He fumbled, trying to free a knife, but could not flick his arm
But then Gared was there, roaring as he swung his heavy axe with two hands. Warded by Arlen himself, the blade split the demon’s head from the tip of its snout to the base of its neck, covering Rojer in a spray of ichor.
The demon still kicked as Gared bore it to the ground, tearing at his cloak in its death throes. Rojer was up in an instant, retying his trousers and readying his fiddle and bow just as a reap of field demons appeared, surrounding them. Renna had her long, sharp knife in hand and was growling like a demon herself. She looked hungry for the fight, though they had little hope against so many.
This one’s nuttier than Arlen, Rojer thought, and that’s saying something.
‘No one move,’ he said, putting bow to string. He played a few sharp notes to surprise the demons and drive them back, then wove in a melody to mesmerize them before he caused the distraction that would allow them to disappear.
But the demons were not mesmerized. They had leapt back from his first shrieking notes, but it didn’t last. One darted in to snap at Renna, but a quick slash of her knife drove it back. They began to circle hungrily, growling and clawing at the soil, searching for an opening.
Uh-oh, Rojer thought.
‘We can’t stay here,’ Renna said. ‘If they’re under the control of a mind, half the Core will be on us in a minute.’
Rojer glanced at Gared’s torn cloak, and his own, covered in coreling ichor. There was no escape there, and fighting was madness. He gritted his teeth and deepened the melody, adding layer after layer of complexity. There was a telltale drooping in the demons’ eyelids, but still they circled.
‘I need a distraction,’ Rojer said. ‘Renna, your cloak is intact. Can you draw them off for a moment?’
‘Ay,’ Renna said, ‘but they won’t all follow me.’
‘I can make them,’ Rojer said.
‘Spit on that plan,’ Gared said. ‘I ent running and letting you …’ But before he could finish the sentence, Renna leapt at the ring, tackling one of the field demons and stabbing it repeatedly as they rolled across the ground. She sprang to her feet unharmed, while the demon laboured for breath on the ground. Already it was healing.