The Core by Peter V. Brett
CHAPTER 12
DRAINED
334 AR
“Bekka’s got ’em in her sights.” Wonda’s head was tilted, listening to the broken piece of demon bone resonating in her helmet. “Stela and Keet, skulkin’ down the road toward Smitt’s storehouse.”
Leesha nodded. They always came when the storehouse was restocked, even if Smitt changed the schedule. Someone was feeding them information.
She pulled on her cloak and gloves. “Let’s go. Tell Bekka and the others to stay on the rooftops and keep fingers off their triggers. I see a stray bolt and someone’s out of a job.”
“Ay, mistress,” Wonda said. “But they make a move at ya an’ I’ll feather ’em myself. Not takin’ any chances with yur safety.”
Leesha gave her hora pouch a reassuring squeeze. “Neither am I.”
Bruna had taught her it was undignified to run, but Leesha had long legs and put them to use, setting a brisk pace. The Warded Children could move swiftly at night.
Wonda touched her helmet again. “Ay, got it.” She turned to Leesha. “Ent in a hurry. Strollin’ like they own the whole town.”
Leesha pursed her lips, seeing Smitt standing in front of the heavy storehouse doors with his arms crossed. They were warded now, reinforced with unbreakable glass.
“Try not to provoke them,” she said, coming to stand beside him.
“Them?!” Smitt asked. “My son and granddaughter rob me every fortnight, but you worry I’ll provoke them?”
“Man’s got a point,” Wonda said.
“Ay,” Leesha agreed. “But they’re drunk on magic, and we don’t want a fight. Just here to talk.”
“Hope they feel the same way,” Wonda said.
Just then, Stela and her uncle rounded the corner, pulling up short as they spotted the trio waiting for them. Both of them shone with power, but Stela was brighter. Not as bright as Renna Bales, but brighter than anyone else Leesha had seen, short of Arlen and Jardir. All this, in half a year.
And it’s my doing, she admonished herself. Arlen warned me. Begged me. But I was so sure I knew better.
Keet at least had the decency to look chagrined. Stela only snickered.
“Think this is funny?” Smitt demanded. “I put a roof over your head and food in your bellies your whole lives, and you pay me back by robbing me?”
“Oh, come off it, Pappy,” Stela said. “Creator knows you can afford it. We’re out bleeding in the night while you get fatter every day.”
“Lot of folk out bleeding in the night,” Wonda said. “Ent no excuse to turn bandit.”
“Never hurt anyone,” Keet said. “Just a few sacks and kegs. You rather we go hungry?”
“Used to earn your keep,” Smitt said.
“Still do!” Stela argued. “Now more than ever! Keepin’ folk safe.”
“Demonshit,” Smitt said. “You’re not out there for anyone but yourself.”
“Your grandfather has a point,” Leesha said. “I didn’t ward your skin so you could get magic-drunk and stick each other out in my wood.”
“No, you just gave us a taste, then abandoned us!” Stela snapped. “Arlen Bales said we were all Deliverers, but you just want to keep the power all to yourself!”
“Ay, don’t you talk to Mistress Leesha like that,” Wonda growled.
“C’mon, Stel. Let’s just go,” Keet said.
Stela ignored him, crossing her arms and setting her feet as she met Wonda’s eyes. “Or what?”
There was a creak of armor as Wonda clenched her fists. “Or I’ll give you a spankin’, ya little pissant.”
An image flashed over Stela, Wonda putting her on the ground in training. The girl was eager for a rematch. “Try it, you ugly skink. Think you’re so special because you’re Leesha’s attack dog. Time someone put you back in your kennel.”
Wonda’s aura was blazing as well. Leesha laid a hand on her arm, calming her. “I didn’t abandon you,” she told Stela. “The duke commanded I go to Angiers. What was I to do? Rules are what keep us civilized. Something you seem to have forgotten.”
“Ay, rules,” Stela said. “Like you’ve ever let that stop you doing whatever you like.”
“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for Hollow County,” Leesha said.
“Ay?” Stela countered. “That why you got the demon of the desert’s baby up in your keep?”
Wonda growled, and Leesha had to put a hand on her chest to hold her back. “Yes, even that. Would you have preferred his army came through the Hollow like they did Rizon and Lakton?”
Stela laughed. “Tellin’ me you didn’t like it a bit, playin’ the bad girl? Didn’t curl your toes while you were at it?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Leesha said.
“Course not,” Stela said. “Leesha rippin’ Paper doesn’t need to explain herself to anyone. Leaves town for seven years and comes back orderin’ folk around like someone made her duchess.”
“Enough,” Leesha said. “There were conditions when I warded your skin and gave your people weapons. You have broken them, and the laws of Hollow County. You will be taken into custody to answer to the magistrate for your crimes.”
Stela barked a laugh. “By what army?”
Leesha pointed, and the two looked back to see Cutters blocking egress from the alley. They had kept their distance as Leesha instructed, but there was no way out for the pair.
Stela had a wry smile as she turned back. “Ent enough. Not by a long sight.” She leapt, easily clearing the thirty feet between them.
But as fast as she was, Wonda Cutter was faster. She stepped in front of Leesha, immovable as a rock demon, and struck Stela an open-handed blow to the chest that stopped her short, blowing the wind out of her and knocking her to the ground.
The wards tattooed all over Stela’s skin flared to match the anger in her aura. She put her hands under her, not seriously injured.
Wonda gave her no time to recover, kicking her onto her stomach and torquing back one of her arms. Stela screamed, but it was short-lived as Keet stepped in, cracking Wonda across the head with the shaft of his hora spear so hard the strap broke and her wooden helm was sent tumbling away.
“Let’s go!” Keet shouted, pulling Stela to her feet as the Cutters charged.
Stela threw off his arm. “Not until I put this ugly skink on the ground!” Wonda was stumbling to her feet as Stela came in, impact wards flaring on her fist as she punched Wonda square in the jaw.
Had Wonda been a normal person, even a Cutter, the blow would likely have killed her. But Wonda’s flesh was warded as well, and her wooden armor was infused with hora. Even so, Leesha heard the crack of bone.
Leesha pulled her wand, but Wonda wasn’t down yet. She sidestepped the next blow, catching Stela’s wrist and using her own momentum to pull her into a body blow that cracked ribs.
Keet had seemed unwilling to fight, but now that it was upon them, his aura flared nearly as hot as Stela’s. He push-kicked one of the charging Cutters into the woman next to him, cracking a third across the face. A year ago he had been a harmless boy, innocent and a bit simple, but now he moved like a predator, striking where his foes were weakest, never losing track of them as they tried to surround him.
Stela had been right. They hadn’t brought enough warriors.
Stela and Wonda fought like demons, exchanging heavy blows. In the thick of battle, much of the artistry fell from sharusahk, leaving only a brutal melee of kicks, punches, and twists. Wonda put them on the ground, wrestling her way toward a hold, but Stela put an elbow into her, impact ward flaring. Wonda was knocked back and Stela tried to reverse the hold, but Wonda got a foot between them, kicking her off.
“Enough!” Leesha shouted, lifting her wand. Stela turned to her, eyes like a coreling, and started to move her way.
Leesha wrote a practiced series of wards in the air as easily as she might sign her name. She could have used the magic to strike at Stela, but this wasn’t the girl’s
Stela screamed as the magic was torn from her. Her wards dimmed as the wand grew warm in Leesha’s hands. Wonda reached for her, then shouted and pulled her hand back as she was caught in the Draw.
“Stop Keet!” Leesha shouted. “I have this!”
But it didn’t seem like she had it. Stela found her feet, stalking in, eyes ablaze. Smitt took a step back as his granddaughter drew close.
The wand was hot now, but Leesha grit her teeth and stood fast, even as she felt the feedback passing through her specially warded gloves and up her arm. It made her strong, but only increased her anger and frustration.
“How dare you!” Leesha shouted. “You were nothing! A mouse scurrying in my hospit! I gave you power to stand up in the night and this is what you do with it? This is how you repay me?!” She wrote more wards in the air, increasing the pull.
And then, suddenly, Stela’s aura winked out, snuffed like a candle. She collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
“Night!” The sight brought Leesha back to herself. She stopped the Draw and ran to the girl, panic screaming through her as the magic heightened that as well. She had not meant to drain so much. Not meant to kill her.
Stela was still warm, but she wasn’t breathing, her heart still and her aura dark. The wand was still hot in Leesha’s hand, and she touched it to the keyward on Stela’s breast, giving back a touch of what she had taken.
Leesha saw as the ward greedily drank the magic, sending a spark through the net, racing throughout Stela’s body. She girl jolted, eyes wide as she pulled in a gasping breath, then fell back, panting. Her aura was dim, but Leesha could see her heart beating again, and knew she would survive.
By then Wonda and the Cutters had Keet pinned, stripping him of weapons and armor. Wonda looked to be healing, but her jaw was crooked. Leesha might need to break it again to set it properly.
“Keet and Stela Inn, you are under arrest,” Leesha said. “I’d hoped never to use the dungeons Count Thamos built, but you leave me no choice.”
Stela coughed, spitting blood, but she was smiling. “Not for long. Pack’s gonna hear about this. They’ll come for us.”
“Then they’ll share your cells.” But if the rest of the Warded Children were eating demon meat, Leesha knew it wouldn’t be so simple.
Things would get worse before they got better.
—
“Don’t see the need for all this, mistress,” Darsy said as she and Leesha sipped tea, watching Hollow Soldiers march onto Gatherers’ Academy grounds.
They were in what was once Leesha’s cottage, now the seat of Headmistress Darsy’s administration. It was odd, being a visitor in her old home.
“I pray there isn’t one,” Leesha said, “but the Warded Children’s camp is only a few miles away, and it’s only a matter of time before they realize we have Stela and Keet locked away. With magic amplifying their emotions, they may want to strike back, and not be picky about where.”
Darsy gave her a knowing look. “Ent your fault, Leesha. You didn’t know what would happen.”
“Didn’t I?” Leesha asked. “Arlen told me not to ward flesh. Night, he begged me not to! He knew what it did to folk’s minds. I told myself he wasn’t giving us enough credit, but I think now I wasn’t giving enough to him. The will to resist power like that…what kind of person does it take?”
Darsy blew out a breath. “Thought Renna was bad at first, but she came out the other side, didn’t she?”
“I suppose, but she had Arlen Bales with her, day and night. Children just have each other.” Leesha sipped her tea.
Melny came out of the kitchen with a tray. “Cookie, mistress?”
“Thank you dear.” Leesha took a cookie. “They smell delicious.”
Melny’s smile lit her face. She was a beautiful young woman, swollen bosom and belly barely contained by her homespun dress, but seeing her tending Darsy’s house, no one would ever guess she was the Duchess of Angiers, snuck out of the city with Leesha’s apprentices when her husband was killed in a Krasian attack.
“Can I get you anything else, mistress?” she asked.
“Tea’s a bit sweet,” Leesha said. “No need for sugar in mine next time.”
“I can bring another cup…”
“That’s all right, dear,” Leesha said. “How have you been?”
“Very well, mistress. Headmistress Darsy’s taught me so much.”
“Not enough about baking,” Darsy muttered as the young woman swept out of the room, humming to herself.
Leesha looked at the cookie. It was burnt around the edges, the center too thick. She took a bite and sure enough, it was raw in the middle.
“Most of the apprentices you brought back have done well.” Darsy shook her head. “That one…”
“I watched her husband die,” Leesha said. “She has no one, and I promised to keep her safe.” It was true, if not the whole truth. Should Duke Pether fail to produce an heir with Princess Lorain of Miln, the child Melny carried was next in succession.
Leesha knew she might one day need to use them both as political tools, and hated herself for it. “Thank you for taking her in.”
Darsy shrugged. “Girl ent too bright, still learning her way around the kitchen and a broom, but she’s a good hand with a needle, and always sunny. Throws that pretty smile at everyone, and they all dote on her, especially with the babe in her belly.”
“And how are our Milnese guests faring?” Leesha asked.
“Learning more from them than they are from us,” Darsy admitted. “Guildmaster Ragen and Mother Elissa have been giving guest lectures on warding all week.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t seem right, though, teaching bone magic to a man.”
“You’re going to have to get used to it, Darsy,” Leesha said. “Just as the men are getting used to women taking up the spear. Olive has me thinking a lot about the lines we draw for ourselves. Why shouldn’t a man be allowed to Gather, if he has the aptitude and desire?”
“Core if I know.” Darsy blew out a breath. “Just strange, is all. Next thing we’ll be teaching them the secrets of fire.”
“You heard the news from the Battle of Angiers,” Leesha said. “The men of Miln already have the secrets of fire, but all the flamework weapons in the world aren’t going to save them if a mind demon targets them on new moon. Guildmaster Ragen raised Arlen Bales. If he can’t be trusted, we might as well give up hope.”
CHAPTER 13
THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF ARLEN BALES
334 AR
“She’s gonna be steamed,” Renna warned.
“Ay, you don’t know the half of it,” Arlen agreed. “But she’s got a right.”
“Sure you don’t want me to come along?” Renna asked. She didn’t say it, but the image of Arlen and Leesha in passionate embrace flashed across her aura. She didn’t believe it was a real risk now that they were man and wife, but neither could she forget it happened.
“Be back for you soon enough, Ren,” he said, “but Leesha’s earned herself a shout, and I’m better equipped to weather it alone.”
“Long as that’s all it is,” Renna said. “No one gets to slap you but me.”
“Ent I fortunate.” Arlen winked at her, drawing a deep breath and letting himself dissipate as he blew it back out. The demons called this the between-state, where they existed only as energy, subject to the currents of magic all around them, with only will to hold them in place.
He reached out with his will, finding a tendril of magic venting up from the Core and using it as a guide as he slipped deep beneath the surface. Other paths opened to him, converging in a complex maze, but he didn’t hesitate in choosing his course. Even hundreds of miles away, he could sense the current of the Hollow greatwards, Drawing all magic in the area into a great vortex.
He let it Draw him until he was inside the net, then exerted his will and fell into orbit around the greatward’s center, lest it pull him
Knowledge opened to him once he was on the greatward, and he drank it in, absorbing much of what had transpired in his absence as he sifted out a single aura and skated toward it with the speed of thought.
The wards Leesha had laid about the count’s keep were formidable, but they were meant to repel demons and, in some cases, humans. Arlen was neither, slipping between the cracks, invisible to the unwarded eye. Even those with wardsight would only see an increase in ambient magic, drawn to the pull of the wards on the walls.
Arlen skated along these as easily as the greatward. He taught wardcraft to Leesha; knew her script like none other. Running along it was like caressing a part of her, reminding him of caresses they shared in what felt like another life. He was thankful Renna was not with him. When they dissipated together, their emotions were laid bare.
He found her sitting in the count’s office. Arlen materialized in the shadows, releasing some of his inner magic into the wards of unsight tattooed along his limbs.
Hidden from sight, he Drew a touch of ambient magic from the room, Reading. Not the count’s office anymore. Thamos hadn’t been here in months, and one glance at Leesha’s aura told him she was countess now. Power—and the burdens it brought—radiated like heat around her, images dancing around her like demons.
Arlen remembered to breathe, letting the pain wash over him. Count Thamos, for all his bluster, had been a good man, and those were ever in short supply. His death did the world no favor.
Leesha was not alone. Wonda stood guard, blackstem wards peeking out from the rolled sleeves of her blouse. She shone with power, and it was beautiful to see. Arlen had looked into thousands of auras, but few were as pure and uncomplicated as Wonda Cutter’s.
But even that was nothing compared with what radiated from the cradle. The child of Leesha and Jardir, burning like a miniature sun. He swallowed a lump in his throat, reaching up to brush a tear from his eye.