CHAPTER 14

SPANKIN’

334 AR

Shanvah was right where Renna expected, meditating outside her father’s cell.

Shanjat, his mind corrupted by the demon, could no longer be trusted. He was chained inside a cell, fed and cleaned thrice a day by his daughter. The cell door was kept locked at all times.

Shanvah had come to make the hall outside the cell her home, furnishing it with a small mat where she could kneel and meditate, practice sharusahk, or polish her weapons. Whenever not otherwise occupied, she could be found there.

The girl’s eyes were closed when Renna silently materialized, but Shanvah sensed her anyway, eyes opening.

She was on her feet immediately, coming to Renna’s side. “Sister, are you all right?”

Renna shook her head. “Ent. Got any of them tear bottles?”

“Of course, sister.” She went to the satchel lying by her mat, producing a tiny glass vial, mouth raised on one side and sharpened to scrape moisture from a cheek.

Shanvah knelt at one end of the mat, gesturing for Renna to join her. “It is my honor to assist you in your mourning prayer. Who has taken the lonely path?”

“Ent much for prayin’,” Renna said, but she knelt anyway, knees weakening. “Got this thing I need to do, an’ it’s important, we want anyone left alive up here when our job’s done.”

“Your honor is boundless, sister,” Shanvah said. “You will be victorious.”

“Ay, maybe,” Renna said. “But right now, all I know is my friend is dead, and I don’t…”

Shanvah said nothing as Renna choked and tried to compose herself. Her eyes itched. “Don’t want him thinkin’ that I was too busy to cry for him.”

“Of course,” Shanvah said.

“But I thought, if I had one o’ them bottles in my pocket…”

“You could carry his honor with you as you face the trials to come,” Shanvah said.

“Ay, that’s it,” Renna said.

“Speak his name, so that Ev…ah, the Creator, can hear.” Shanvah held up the bottle.

“Rojer,” Renna said. “Ah, son of…Jessum of the Inn family of Hollow County.”

Shanvah’s hand dropped. “Rojer Inn, the jongler?”

“Jongleur, yeah,” Renna said. “You know him?”

“He is my cousin by marriage,” Shanvah said, “wed to my spear sister Sikvah and my cousin Amanvah. Are they well?”

Renna blinked. After all this time together, how could she not have known that? She and the Sharum’ting spoke often, but suddenly she realized how little they really knew about each other.

“Amanvah and Sikvah are all right,” Renna assured her. “Both pregnant with Rojer’s kids. Headed back to Inevera now.”

“Thank you,” Shanvah produced another bottle. “I only met my Rojer once, but I will cry with you.”

“How you gonna cry over someone you barely knew?” Renna asked.

“Oh, sister,” Shanvah said sadly. “Tears are never hard to find. Tell me of the son of Jessum.”

“Put out a bad foot, I first got to the Hollow,” Renna said. “Drunk on magic and angry, I can’t blame folk for not takin’ to me, ’specially since they all wanted Arlen to marry prissy Miss Paper.”

“Leesha Paper?” Shanvah asked. “The Northern whore who seduced my uncle?”

Renna laughed out loud. “Girl, we need to talk more.” Then she remembered why they were kneeling, and felt a wave of guilt wash over her.

“Everyone in the Hollow was giving me side eye,” Renna went on. “Everyone but Rojer Inn. Kissed my hand, first time I met him. Treated me like a person, even while Leesha and the others acted like I was shit on a boot.”

She shook her head. “Saved my life so many times at new moon, I lost count. Not just me. Song of Waning protected thousands, on the field and off. Hollow County would have been lost, not for Rojer Inn.”

Renna started. “You and Sikvah are sisters?”

Shanvah nodded. “Cousins, but trained together in the Dama’ting Palace.”

“Leesha said she was a warrior,” Renna noted.

“A great one,” Shanvah agreed.

“Din’t know that,” Renna said. “Never saw her fight, but the demons all ran scared of her. Said you trained together. That mean you can sing?”

“Of course I can sing.”

“They sang the Song of Waning at his funeral,” Renna said. “Wasn’t there for it, just like I wasn’t there when he needed me most.”

Shanvah reached out, placing one of the tiny vials in Renna’s hand. “Sing it with me, sister, that we may guide the son of Jessum on the lonely path.”

All the talk had calmed her so much Renna feared she could not bring herself to tears on command, but then Shanvah opened her mouth and began to sing.

Renna pressed a finger against her chest, feeling the tear bottle nestled there on its leather thong. She moved slowly in Wonda’s wake as the big woman relieved the dungeon guards. Feeding a steady stream of power to the wards of unsight on her skin, Renna was like a raven in the night sky, invisible to all who did not look closely. With Wonda to draw attention, none did.

“Down there,” Wonda said, unlocking the heavy goldwood door, banded with warded steel. Inside, rough stone steps led down out of sight.

“Thanks, Won,” Renna said.

“Sorry this is on you,” Wonda said. “Trainin’ Stela and the others was my job.” She dropped her eyes. “Scarred those wards pretty bad. Girl was ready to kill me when we brought her in last night.”

“Ent your fault,” Renna said. “Tried to kill Arlen more’n once, when the magic was up in my blood.”

Wonda gaped. “Honest word?”

Renna nodded. “He coulda killed me, when it happened. Night, sometimes I wished he had. But it wasn’t me. Got control of it. Stela can, too, she’s strong enough.”

“And if she ent?” Wonda asked.

Renna gave her a hard look. “If she ent—if any of ’em ent—I’ll handle things, and leave your mistress with a clear conscience.”

There was no pleasure in Wonda’s aura at the words, but there was a relief of sorts. She could see Wonda loved Leesha, but knew her mistress didn’t have it in her to execute anyone, even when it was needed.

Renna padded down the stone steps, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she heard the door shut and lock behind her, leaving her in the dim wardlight.

She immediately felt the pull of the wards glowing on the walls and floor. There was no ambient magic, all of it Drawn into the powerful net that kept the prisoner drained. Renna quickened her step. If she did not keep a tight rein on the magic stored within her, Leesha’s wards would suck that away, too.

Even for a dungeon, the place felt unfinished. Count Thamos had built the walls and floor of hewn stone to prevent corelings from rising inside, but as with much of the keep, he had died before it was complete. Not the sort to imprison folk in the cold and dark, Leesha had clearly left it that way until recently. The stone was rough, and most of the cells did not have bars. The wardnet was painted rather than carved. Temporary at best.

“Who’s there?” Stela called from down the corridor. Her voice had changed from the timid thing Renna recalled from just half a year gone. It was deeper now. Confident. “Told you before I got nothin’ to say till the Wardskins come and fetch me.”

“Ay, think you’ll talk to me,” Renna said, moving to stand before the bars of the girl’s cell.

Stela squinted, no doubt seeing Renna’s bright glow in her own wardsight. She was dirty, but larger and more muscular than Renna recalled. Tattooed flesh peeked out from the utilitarian smock she had been given. Her aura was weak, drained, but Renna could see how the demon meat had changed it, perhaps forever.

Was a fool to think I could hide it from Arlen, Renna thought.

The cell looked comfortable enough, with a curtain for the privy and a clean cot, but nothing that could be used as a weapon or a means of escape. The bars were thick iron, set deep into the stone.

“Renna Bales.” Stela gaped and fell to one knee.

“Cut that demonshit right now.” Renna was amazed at how much like Arlen she sounded. “Hear tell you Children wrote down everything me and Arlen ever said, but I don’t recall either of us ever tellin’ folk to kneel. Or to steal. Or to turn on kith and kin.”

Stela got to her feet, aura unsure. “They don’t understand us.”

“Don’t understand yourselves!” Renna snapped. “Actin’ the fools, drunk on magic, behavin’ more like demons than people!”

Stela shrank back into her cell, and Renna could see how the words stung. Her aura filled with shame, and fear.

Good. Renna stepped forward and gripped the bars, again Drawing on the power stored within her. They bent like supple branches, allowing her to step through.

Stela froze as Renna passed by her to sit on the cot. She patted the space beside her. “Come sit with me a spell. Creator knows you and your friends’ve been askin’ for a belt across the backside, but I ent here to give you one, ’less you make me.”

Tentatively the girl came forward, taking the offered seat.

“Been where you are now,” Renna said. “First started warding my skin, killin’ demons was all I could think about. Started seein’ day folk as weak. Had nothin’ for ’em but contempt. Cut a man’s hand off in a tavern when he put it up my leg.”

Stela spat on the floor of her cell. “Had it comin’.”

“Ay, maybe,” Renna said. “But I din’t do it ’cause he had it comin’. Did it ’cause all I could see was red. ’Cause I was so drunk on magic I couldn’t think.”

Renna put a finger under Stela’s chin, lifting until their eyes met. “That’s how animals act, Stela Inn. That’s how corelings fight. All passion and no thought. And that’s why, at the Battle of Cutter’s Hollow, a bunch of scared woodcutters beat ’em down and sent ’em runnin’.”

She let her finger drop, holding the girl’s eyes. “But demons din’t fight stupid when the minds came at new moon. Fought smart, like we gotta. Because the minds are comin’ back, sure as the sun rises.”

Stela’s eyes began to tear. “I tried, Mrs. Bales. I tried, and it all went to the Core. Met a boy. A good boy, and I shined on him like I never knew I could. But I was so drunk on magic I hurt him without a thought. And when he turned his back…”

“All you wanted to do was pounce,” Renna finished.

“Ay,” Stela said sadly.

“He still alive, this boy?” Renna asked.

“No thanks to me,” Stela sniffed.

“You kill anyone else?” Renna asked, peering deep into her aura. “Don’t lie to me.”

“Haven’t,” Stela said, and her aura confirmed it. “Wanted to sometimes. Broken a few bones, but ent killed anyone.”

“Ent too late, then,” Renna said. “Ent too late to come back and get it under control. Ent never gonna be normal, now that you et that demon’s heart, but you can get a handle on it, like Arlen and I did.”

Stela looked at her with wide eyes. “Deliverer used to lose control, too?”

“Dun’t like to be called that, and you know it,” Renna said. “But ay. Never really control it completely, but that’s okay. Sometimes you need the passion. The aggression. Sometimes, when it’s you against a demon’s talons, it’s all that keeps you alive. But you gotta remember who the real enemy is, Stela Inn. Can’t ever forget.”

“Demons,” Stela said.

“Ay,” Renna agreed. “You turn your night strength on day folk, and you become no better’n them. That what you want?”

Stela shook her head. “No, ma’am.”

“And the others?” Renna asked.

Stela slumped. “They’re lost, Mrs. Bales. Like I was. Got some of my senses back when Mistress Leesha drained me, but they’re all still full of ichor. Don’t know if they’ll listen, even to you.”

Renna put a hand over hers. “Then we’ll make them listen.”

Wonda stiffened when she opened the door to see Stela standing behind Renna on the stairs, but she said nothing, stepping back to let them pass.

Stela looked at her, pain lancing through her aura. “I wasn’t myself, Wonda. I know it doesn’t make it better, but…I wasn’t myself, and I’m sorry.”

Wonda pursed her lips. “Know what it’s like, Stel. I do. But my da used to say, ‘Sorry’s only halfway to makin’ things right.’ ”

“On our way to work on the other half,” Renna said. “Let Leesha know I’ll drop in after I give the Children a talkin’-to.”

“Ay,” Wonda said.

“What about Keet?” Stela asked.

“He can wait,” Renna said. “Insurance on good behavior. Sides, got a trick to play that won’t work on him.”

She took Stela’s hand, wards on their skin touching. There was a tingle at the connection. Renna fed a bit of power into the girl, then Drew it back, Reading her. The change was in her blood. Maybe not enough for her to control it—yet—but perhaps enough…

She dissipated, and pulled Stela along with her as she slipped down into the greatward, skating toward Gatherers’ Wood.

They materialized a moment later just outside the wood. Leesha and Arlen had designed the net of Hollow greatwards to leave a gap for the wood, in part because of the difficulty of shaping so many trees, and in part so they could experiment freely with demon magic within.

“Gonna slosh.” Stela stumbled away, falling to hands and knees as she heaved. It was long moments before she caught her breath and wiped her mouth.

“Always like that?” she asked.

Renna shrugged. “Never bothered me, but I’d been eatin’ demon a lot longer’n you before I tried it. Prob’ly easier when you’re at the reins.”

“Ay,” Stela agreed. “Felt like a windie swept out of nowhere, caught me in its talons, and dragged me through the air. Only, there was no air.”

“Get your feet under you and Draw a bit of power,” Renna said. “You’ll feel better.”

“Draw?” Stela asked.

“Like you’re suckin’ air through your feet,” Renna said. “Take a deep breath and pull a bit of magic from the greatward. Not too much.”

Stela raised an eyebrow, then scrunched her eyes shut and grit her teeth, pulling in great gasps of air. It was almost comical. There was no Draw, and her aura remained dim.

“Not like that,” Renna said, coming over to take her hand again. “Like this.” She Drew, pulling magic up from the greatward through Stela. Immediately her aura brightened and she straightened.

Stela gasped. “I feel strong again. How’d you do that?” There was eagerness in her aura now, an addict’s craving reawakened.

“Teach you, and the others, they get in line,” Renna said. “Need to take care, though. Greatwards hold a lot of power. Get greedy an’ take too much, you’ll go up like oil in a fire.”

Stela swallowed, fear flashing in her aura.

“Now show me where the Children make camp,” Renna said.

The trees blurred as they ran, magic granting them inhuman speed. Renna had spent a fair bit of time in the wood, but Stela knew it intimately, like the common room of her own home. In minutes, Renna could see the knot of brightness in her wardsight and knew the camp was close.

She caught Stela’s arm, pulling her up short. “Hold out your arms.”

Stela’s aura was confused, but she did not hesitate, and Renna traced wards of unsight on her limbs and breast, imparting a bit of power to them. She energized her own wards, and the two of them faded into the night. She reached out and took Stela’s hand before she became too difficult to see, and the two moved forward at a slower pace.

The Children were not on guard as they entered the camp, clustered around a podium, eyes on Brother Franq as he paced back and forth, shouting. Half a dozen young Siblings clustered before the pulpit, steely glares scanning the crowd.

The Holy Man was very different from the stiff Child Renna remembered from previous meetings. His neatly trimmed beard and hair had grown wild, fine robes exchanged for a rural Tender’s homespun brown, dirty with the sleeves cut away to reveal his tattoos. They glowed with power, and his aura was bright. Brighter than any single other out of the dozens standing around the platform.

“Do we let this stand?” Franq demanded. “Let them hold our brother and sister in chains for nothing more than wanting to run free in the naked night?”

“No!” the Siblings shouted on cue, and many in the crowd joined them, auras red with anger. It was easy enough for Renna to pick out the Wardskins, their auras almost as bright with power as Franq’s, and the Bones, with their demon bone weapons. They had lost their leaders and boiled with rage. Images floated above them, Children storming Leesha’s keep and kicking in the doors. Considering the power massed in those groups, Renna thought they might well manage it.

But not all were convinced. The Sharum stood apart, Jarit and her granddaughter at their forefront, auras calm as they watched the crowd. They didn’t seem likely to be swayed, but neither were they inclined to intervene.

The Pumps, however, looked like they might be convinced. Callen Cutter stood at their forefront with Jas Fisher, arms crossed. They were angry, too, but not so far gone as the others, having tasted less of the magic than the other groups. They did not join in the shouting.

“Brother Callen!” Franq called, knowing who he must convince. “You doubt our righteous course?”

“Want Stela and Keet back much as any,” Callen said. “But that don’t mean I’m ready to kick in Mistress Leesha’s door.”

“There are times men and women of conviction must stand against injustice,” Franq shouted. “I was there when Arlen Bales himself told Inquisitor Hayes, You stake a fornicator, and I’ll break the stake over my knee and shove half through your door and the other half through the count’s. It was the Deliverer’s way of telling us those who stand against the night are not subject to the laws of men.”

Renna remembered the words. Arlen had spoken them in anger, part of an argument that began, ironically, with Franq mocking her lack of refinement as he served fine wine in crystal stemware. Now he was the unrefined one, pacing like an animal as he attempted to incite the crowd to violence in her husband’s name.

Enough, she thought, cutting the power to her wards of unsight.

“I was there, too!” Renna shouted as she strode into the crowd. Faces turned to her, eyes widening. The Children fell back, stumbling over those behind as they made room for her to approach the podium.

“Renna Bales,” folk whispered all around her, but Renna ignored them, eyes locked on Franq.

“Behold!” Franq gestured to her with a Jongleur’s flourish. “Renna Bales, Bride of the Deliverer, returns to lead us on our righteous path!”

“Ent nothin’ righteous in attackin’ the Hollow!” Renna barked back.

Franq hesitated, but only for a moment. “Do you deny the Deliverer’s own words? You’ve been taking liberties, he said, and need to know where the wards end.”

Renna misted, materializing an instant later on the podium beside Franq. She gripped his robes and twisted, throwing him from the platform to land on his back at the center of a widening ring of onlookers.

“Wards end with you tellin’ me what my own husband meant!” Renna said. “Usin’ words from a fight you started!”

She moved to the steps, eyes angrily locked on Franq, but his young acolytes barred her way. Confusion roiled in their auras. They had been taught to worship her, but it was Franq who knew them, trained them, commanded their loyalty. It was Franq who had given them power.

They would need to be dealt with, and perhaps others, too, but first things first. She drew an impact ward in the air, scattering them from her path as she stalked their leader like a nightwolf.

Brother Franq had risen to a crouch. He was unhurt, his ample magic strengthening his body, his aura seething with rage.

Good. Renna dropped her guard as she approached, inviting attack. Franq took the bait, springing forward in a rush to try to tackle her. She sidestepped easily, catching his arm and turning a circuit to use his own momentum against him as she threw him across the ring.

Franq remained unhurt, but that give little concern. Much as she wanted to deliver a beating to the man, the show was more important. The onlookers needed to see a fair fight, and to see her dominate.

Franq’s aura was bright with magic, and he outweighed her by close to a hundred pounds, but his sharusahk was still rudimentary. Renna had fought like him once, trusting in sheer ferocity to power through. Against mindless demon drones, it was often enough.

But Renna’s training with Shanvah had broken her of that. The Sharum’ting had humiliated her in much the same way until she had learned respect for defense and the mind of her foe. More, she had taught Renna about convergences, the places where the lines of energy in a body met and branched. It was the secret to dama’ting sharusahk, and Renna, with her wardsight, could see the bright points in Franq’s aura like stars in a night sky.

His rage doubled, Franq came at her again. His guard was up now, but his punches caught only air as Renna bent her torso back and heel-kicked the convergence in his hip. He folded like paper as Renna snaked an arm over his right biceps and back under his arm, twisting it behind his back. A kick to the back of his knee brought him down as she torqued the arm up until it broke with an audible snap.

Franq roared in pain, but she could see in his aura the fight wasn’t over. He shoved hard against the ground enough to get a foot under him, and with his arm broken, much of Renna’s advantage was gone. Sharusahk relied on the weight and leverage of the combatants, but with the magic Franq was holding, Renna weighed little more than a doll.

She let him go, putting her hands on her hips and smirking as he crouched and grit his teeth, pulling his arm straight for the magic to heal. In moments he would be back to combat-readiness.

Renna moved to finish him before that could happen, but there was a shout, and the Siblings charged her. Their surprise was over, and they moved like a pack of drones to protect their mind.

Renna took a deep breath, finding her center as she focused on the convergences in their auras. One young woman tried a kick, and Renna caught it, punching two knuckles into her thigh, collapsing the leg. Another swung a fist and found himself flying through the air. She dropped as she continued the circuit, spinning to hook the leg of a boy she was sure she had seen mucking stables in town.

The last was a young Krasian man who fought with more skill than the others, but he wasn’t nearly as fast. Renna backed up two steps, blocking his punches and kicks, until he was in position, then shattered his pelvis, removing him from the fight.

And then once more there was a clear path to Franq, now recovered. His aura was burning with anger, but he knew better than to try hand combat now. Instead, he raised a hand, drawing a glowing impact ward in the air. His control was rudimentary at best, and he powered it with more than was needed.

Renna collapsed into mist as the concussive force hit, blasting through her to fling one of Franq’s own acolytes to the ground, a twisted ruin.

That’s torn it.

Like a gust of wind, she blew across the ring. Franq flinched, punching wildly through the mist, but he might as well have struck air. She materialized behind him, an arm around his throat and the other up under his armpit, locking her wrist.

In a normal fight she might have choked him, but Franq was too strong, and it was not the message she wanted to send. Instead she reached out through the wards on her skin, connecting with those on Franq’s. But she did not feed magic into him, as she had with Stela. Rather, she Drew hard, sucking the power from him.

Franq’s muscles seized, bucking as if he’d been spat on by a lightning demon. Renna kept control and held tight, increasing the pull. The wards on her skin began to glow, then flare until she could feel the heat of them. Her eyes, throat, and nasal passages dried out, burning. Still she pulled, watching Franq’s aura as it dimmed. The pain increased, until she felt like her entire body was aflame, but she held until his aura was about to wink out.

Renna let the man go with a kick to his backside, and he collapsed limply to the ground. The pain was unbearable now, and she threw as much magic skyward as she could, drawing a light ward that turned night into day.

Still bursting with power, she misted over to the Krasian acolyte whose pelvis she had broken, looking into his aura as she pulled the bones straight and imparted a portion of her magic to fuse them back together. She flitted to the young acolyte struck by Franq’s impact ward, but he was dead, his aura snuffed like a candle.

Corespawn it.

She played another of Arlen’s tricks then, misting only partially as she leapt skyward, floating above the awestruck Children, backlit by her light ward. They squinted and put hands before their eyes, trying to look at her in the glare.

Night, she thought. They’re all so young.

“Arlen Bales din’t say nothin’ about robbin’ folk!” Renna sketched wards to amplify her voice until it shook the trees. “About bustin’ criminals out of prison! He demanded respect, ay, but he gave it first!

“And he trusted in Mistress Leesha! More than any, she’s stood by the Hollow in its time of need. More than any, she’s led the way. Arlen knew it, I know it, and it’s time you knew it, too. Anyone here don’t hop to her word is gonna get a spankin’ that makes what I did to Franq look like a pat on the bum!”

There was a stunned silence as dozens of faces looked up at her, illuminated in the wardlight.

“If you hear me, say ay!” she barked.

“Ay!” they shouted. “Ay! Ay! Ay!”

Renna pointed, drawing a smaller ward to illuminate Stela, who entered the circle to help Franq to his feet. “Stela Inn, say ay!”

Another quick ward, and Stela’s “Ay!” sounded louder than any other.

Renna made a fist, the wards on her hand burning with power. “Brother Franq, say ay!”

Franq looked up at her, his dim aura cowed at last. “Ay,” he croaked, but Renna made sure his word was clear to all.

She slowly drifted down to the ground, softening her voice as she let the light behind her dim. “Know what you’re feelin’. Magic makes it hard to think. Makes your every emotion into a storm. Been there. Arlen, too.”

Her feet touched the ground. She turned slowly as she spoke, meeting the eyes all around her. “But now more’n ever, can’t forget you’re human. The Core’s about to rise up again, and you need to be ready to fight, not just for Hollow County, but for the entire human race. Ent gonna get another shot at this.”

She caught Jarit’s eye. “Sharak Ka ent comin’ anymore. It’s here.”

She spread her hands. “You got powers now, but ent one of you got a clue how to control ’em. Things get bad,” she gestured to the crumpled body of the acolyte, “when you can’t. I can help, but in the end you need to help yourselves.”

Renna could see Leesha’s aura, relaxed at first, tense when she saw it was Renna, not Arlen, materializing in her office.

Good. Don’t want her gettin’ too comfortable.

The two women eyed each other for a moment, but Leesha was quick to break the stare. “Thank you for coming. Tea?”

“Ay, thanks,” Renna said. “Can’t stay long. Need to skate back to Arlen before sunup.” She flopped in one of the countess’ fine chairs, putting her feet on the table. Leesha’s eyes flicked to them, but she said nothing as Wonda poured the tea.

“Did you see them?” Leesha asked.

“Ay,” Renna said.

“And?” Leesha prompted, when she was not forthcoming.

“Stela was right,” Renna said. “They were ready to march into the Hollow and kick your gate in.”

“Night,” Wonda said. “How many? When?” Images floated above her, the walls of Leesha’s keep lined with women aiming crank bows.

Renna waved for her to calm. “Settled ’em down like I promised.” She turned back to Leesha. “Still be a headache, but that’s on you.”

“What did you do, if I may ask?” Leesha looked like she had eaten a lemon. Renna didn’t smirk, but no doubt Leesha could see the feeling on her aura, and that was all right.

“Franq was the biggest rabble-rouser,” Renna said. “Delusions of grandeur. Turnin’ Arlen’s words to his own ends. Took him to the woodshed, and let the others watch. Put the fear of the Creator into ’em. Can’t promise they’ll stay pliant, but they’ll fight for the Hollow when night comes, and the raids will stop.”

“What can we do to ensure it stays that way?” Leesha asked. “Do they have demands?”

Renna shook her head. “Still changin’ their shorts after my little display, but that ent gonna last. Aim to visit a few more times, try’n make things stick. Be a sign of good faith, you release Keet in the morning. Gonna want to break the Pack up if you can. Find places for the Pumps and Bones with the Cutters, maybe get Franq a seat on Jona’s new Council of Tenders.”

“Ya just said he was the one stirrin’ things up!” Wonda said.

But Leesha nodded. “All the more reason to keep him somewhere we can see him. I’ll speak to Jona, and ask that the council meet under the sun.”

“Smart,” Renna agreed. “Wardskins are going to be a problem no matter where you put ’em. Keep ’em in sight, but I wouldn’t want them inside your walls.”

“We’ll think of something,” Leesha said.

“Not sure what you can do with the Sharum,” Renna went on. “Could ask Jardir for his thoughts before he leaves to see his wife.”

Leesha flinched at the words, and Renna cursed her own stupidity. There was a time she might have thrown them as a purposeful barb, but…

“Sorry,” she said. “Din’t mean…”

“It is what it is,” Leesha said. She put a hand in one of the many pockets of her gown, pulling forth a sealed letter. “Will you give this to him, when you see him? If he’s to learn of the babe, I’d rather it be from me.”

Renna nodded, taking the envelope. “Course.”

“Thank you, Renna,” Leesha said. “I know we haven’t always…”

Renna smacked the air. “Tired of you slingin’ that line, Leesha. You ent fond o’ me and I ent fond o’ you. Don’t mean we’re not on the same side. Not gonna get in the way of you doin’ right by your child.”

Reflexively, Renna brushed her fingers over her still-flat belly, thinking of the life growing there.

“Fair and true,” Leesha said, but her head tilted suddenly, studying Renna’s aura. It went on a little longer than Renna liked, until she felt her skin begin to crawl.

“What?” she snapped.

“Wonda, dear,” Leesha said. “Will you excuse us, please?”

“Ay, mistress,” Wonda said, taking her bow off the wall and heading for the door.

The moment it closed behind her, Leesha activated the wards of silence around the room, and Renna got to her feet, unable to stand sitting a moment longer. “What?!”

“You’re pregnant,” Leesha said.

Renna went cold. She Drew her aura in tight, breathing to remain calm. Should she deny it? Argue? Tell Leesha it was none of her corespawned business?

It wasn’t, but neither was Leesha’s child, yet half a year ago Renna had been happy to rub Leesha’s indiscretion in her face.

She blew out a breath. “Married woman, Leesha. Don’t owe you any explanations.”

“You don’t.” Leesha got to her feet, coming over to her. Her hands were spread, eyes calm, voice soothing. Her aura was tense, worried. “But using magic while I was pregnant affected my child. Please, for the sake of the baby, let me examine you.”

Renna felt her muscles tighten. Her hands clenched into fists, and it was a sheer act of will to straighten the fingers again. She’d just finished preaching to the Warded Children, but now the magic in her blood was screaming, amplifying her own emotions, telling her to flee, or to attack Leesha, silencing her before she could tell anyone else. It was all she could do just to stand there, breathing.

Leesha no doubt saw much of it, no matter how hard Renna tried to hide her aura, but she weathered it calmly, keeping still and saying nothing.

“Ay,” Renna said at last. “Think that’s a good idea.”

“How’d it go?” Arlen asked as Renna materialized in the kitchen of their tower. He, Jardir, and Shanvah sat at the table having breakfast.

“Broke a few bones and did a little flamework display,” Renna said. “Put the fear o’ the Creator back in them and got ’em on track, but they need lessons, they want to be in control when the swarm comes. Goin’ back a few more times before we leave.”

She looked to Jardir. “There’s Krasians among them. Widows and children of Leesha’s escort. They’re painting their skin with blackstem and ent eaten demon that I seen, but they’re lost, Ahmann. Hollow’s their home, but they don’t fit in.”

“I don’t imagine they would,” Jardir said. “But neither are they likely to leave the ground their husbands and fathers hallowed with their blood.”

“Leesha said she’d be obliged, if you had advice on it,” Renna said.

“Who leads them?” Jardir asked.

“Jarit,” Renna said.

Jardir nodded. “Kaval’s Jiwah Ka. I have looked into her soul, and it is pure. She has done well in holding her people together. I will speak of her to Inevera. She will need to send dama’ting to the Hollow, and Sharum to escort and guard them. Our brothers and sisters in the Gatherers’ Wood will not be forgotten.”

“There’s more,” Renna said, producing the letter. “Leesha asked me to give this to you.”

Jardir’s eyes widened, and he took the paper, immediately bringing it to his nose and inhaling. “Thank you, Renna jiwah Arlen am’Bales am’Brook.” He bowed once, then quickly left the room.

Renna shook her head. “Talkin’ about his wife in one breath, and inhalin’ Leesha’s perfume with the next.”

“We do not see marriage as you greenlanders do,” Shanvah said. “The Evejah tells us love is boundless. It does not dishonor the Damajah to share. A portion of infinity remains infinite.”

“That go both ways?” Renna asked. “Love infinite enough for a woman to have two husbands?”

“Got someone in mind?” Arlen asked.

Shanvah said nothing, but her face made it clear she was scandalized at the very notion.

“Thought not,” Renna said.

Renna watched as Ragen rode Twilight Dancer awkwardly around the practice yard, trying to get a feel for him. He was a big man, and an expert rider, but Dancer was no ordinary horse. He stood a head taller than other mustangs, they in turn giants compared with even the heavy destriers Milnese Messengers favored. Arlen had pondered long and hard, but in the end there had been no one he trusted more to take his precious stallion—his friend—than Ragen, the man who taught him to ride.

Promise was her engagement gift. Their intention had been to breed the horses, expanding their family in more ways than one. Arlen had tears in his eyes when Renna left the tower with the horses. Seeing Wonda approach, Renna understood how he felt. She stroked Promise’s neck, gripping tight to her mane.

The horse seemed to sense her tension, snorting and stamping. Renna laid her head against her, and did not fight her tears. “Come back for you. Swear it by the sun. Wonda’ll be good to you. Ent no woman more suited to ride you while I’m gone.”

Wonda moved confidently as she approached the horse, but Renna caught a hint of fear in her scent. Arlen and Renna’s horses were legends in the Hollow.

“Won’t take a bit or saddle,” Renna said. “Got a harness to hold bags and help you keep your seat, but she ent much for reins. Don’t be afraid to give her mane a good yank, she tries to throw you or go her own way. She can take it.”

Wonda swallowed, but she nodded. “Da used to have a workhorse. Din’t have money for a saddle. Learned to ride bareback.”

“Don’t take any of her demonshit till she learns to respect you,” Renna said, “and you’ll be all right.”

Promise eyed Wonda coolly, but allowed the woman to lay a hand on her neck. Something about the gesture made it real, and the lump in Renna’s throat grew.

“Likes green apples the best,” she choked. “Sour, like her disposition.”

“Buy a barrel of ’em today,” Wonda said.

“Ent too good for honey in her oats, though,” Renna said.

“Got bees right here in the keep.”

Renna couldn’t stand it anymore. She sobbed, giving Promise one last embrace, then fled the yard.

“Greatward’s our strongest asset, and worst enemy,” Renna said loudly, pacing the floor of the lecture theater at Gatherers’ Academy. The floor was painted with a miniature greatward, powered by hora stones set around the walls.

Leesha and Wonda stood to the side, observing with crossed arms. Both glowed bright with power, unmistakable to the gathered Children seated around the theater. Renna had guaranteed their safety, but they were taking no chances.

“Remember Arlen floatin’ in the sky?” Renna asked the crowd. “Throwin’ lightning at the demons?”

Several of the Children cheered and applauded. Renna nodded, waiting until it died down. “Remember how he fell?”

There was no applause at that. It had been the Hollow’s darkest hour.

“Wards Draw magic and hold it,” Renna said. “Directing it depending on their shape. But when you’re standing inside the lines,” she stepped onto the greatward on the floor, “you can tap into them by sheer will.” She Drew, and grew brighter and brighter, until some of the observers had to shield their eyes. The point made, she let the power drain back into the symbol.

“Hollow greatwards got power enough to make you feel like the Creator Himself, but we ent built to channel power like that. Not me, not even Arlen Bales. He pulled too much and burned out. Came crashin’ down to the cobbles, broke like an egg.” Renna pointed to Leesha. “Mistress Leesha din’t come runnin’ to put him back together, he wouldn’t’ve made it.”

Leesha acknowledged the words with a nod, a purposeful reminder to the gathering of her power.

“Stela Inn,” Renna called. “Come down here and Draw some power off this ward.”

There was fear in Stela’s aura, but she came, tentatively stepping onto the theater floor.

“Sandals off,” Renna said. “Gonna want to put your wards right on the lines at first.”

Stela kicked off her sandals and stood on one of the thicker lines, closing her eyes.

“Like I taught you,” Renna said. “Draw nice and slow. Careful, not too much.”

Stela’s breathing was even, but her heart was thudding in her chest, trying to contain the pleasure and ecstasy flooding her. “How much is too much?”

“That’s enough for now,” Renna said as Stela’s wards began to glow of their own volition, visible to the unwarded eye. “More, your insides will start to itch. Eyes and throat and nose will dry out, and you’ll have trouble concentratin’. More’n that, you’ll start to ache, and it’ll be hard to think straight. Keep goin’, and you’ll lose control and burn yourself alive.”

“How do I let off the excess?” Stela sounded worried, the fear in her aura reflected in the onlookers.

“Greatward’s pullin’ at it even now,” Renna said. “Only your will keeps it in you. Drain it out slow and steady, like pouring boilin’ water from a kettle.”

Stela shut her eyes, willing the magic to drain away, but she was too eager, pushing the magic from her instead of letting the ward do the work. The powerful greatward greedily drank it in, and Renna had to grab her hand and stop the Draw before the girl was sucked dry.

“Good try,” Renna said. “Go an’ take your seat. Ella Cutter, step down and give it a try.”

She sniffed as the next girl approached. The Wardskins were still eating demon meat, but she didn’t tell them to stop. They’d need the power soon enough.

If she could teach them to control it.