CHAPTER 37

JESSA’S GIRLS

334 AR

For two days and nights, Leesha, Wonda, Kendall, and Pawl hiked cross-country through virgin woodland, resting only when exhaustion demanded it.

All wore Cloaks of Unsight, but the protection was seldom needed. Demons grew scarce away from human settlements, and the ones they encountered were nudged away by Kendall’s music. When she looked away from the girl, Leesha could pretend it was Rojer playing, and felt her friend watching over her on this last, desperate mission.

They made camp by a stream just south of Angiers. There was a small pool Leesha warmed with heat wards, that they might take it in turn to wash and put on fresh clothes to pass unnoticed in the city.

“You go first, mistress,” Wonda said. “Won’t let anythin’ bother you.”

Leesha didn’t protest, letting the hot water soak her aching muscles as she expressed milk into the pool. Miles to the south, Olive was suckling at Elona’s pap, and the thought brought a tear to her eye.

The sun was coming up as Leesha put on a fresh dress in the Angierian style. Kendall wore the motley pattern Angierian Jongleurs favored, and Pawl dressed as a common street urchin. Wonda kept her armor on, covering the breastplate with an Angierian tabard.

“This way,” Pawl said. “The rendezvous is just over the next hill.”

They kept to the shelter of the woods as the city came in sight, and Leesha gaped to see her apprentice Roni leaning against a tree, chewing on an apple. It was only a few months since she’d last seen her, but Roni looked years older. Well beyond her eighteen summers, especially with the low neckline of her dress and powder on her face.

“Mistress Leesha!” Roni kept her voice a harsh whisper, but she gave a little squeal and leapt into her arms, squeezing tightly. “Thank the Creator you’ve come.”

“Gotten yourselves into a bit of trouble?” Leesha asked.

“Night, that’s undersaid,” Roni agreed.

Leesha reached out and tugged one of the carefully curled hairs framing Roni’s painted face. The hair straightened and then sprang obediently back into shape. “What’s all this?”

“Ent it lovely, mistress?” Roni struck a pose and gave her hair a flick. “Jessa’s girls been showing us how to paint and preen.”

Leesha turned to regard Pawl, who shrank under her glare. “Jessa? As in Weed Gatherer Jessa, who poisoned Duke Rhinebeck?”

Pawl shifted his feet. “Her Grace expected you would take the news amiss.”

Leesha crossed her arms. “So she had you keep it from me until we were committed.”

“Her Grace was no more pleased than you, Countess,” Pawl said, “but the brothels were the only safe place to hide until we smuggle her out of the city.”

“Mistress Jessa ent so bad,” Roni said. “She and Jizell have been taking good care of folk since the…changes.”

Leesha blew out a breath. “I look forward to seeing her. Can you get us inside?”

“Ay, mistress. There’s a few small gates—just big doors, really—with only a handful of guards.” Roni grinned. “Lonely men with nothing to do all day since the gates were shut. We bring them meals and give them someone to talk to.”

Leesha nodded to Roni’s low neckline. “And while they’re talking…”

Roni giggled. “We take turns slipping out the gate. The girls’ll open it a crack when they bring supper tonight, and I’ll sneak us back in.”

“The guards won’t notice three extra women and a boy passing through?” Leesha asked.

Roni reached into her cleavage, producing a tiny wooden box. “Smell.”

Leesha opened the box, filled with soft red wax. It smelled of roses, but beneath…“Tampweed and skyflower. Another trick Jessa’s girls taught you?”

Roni winked. “Sometimes talk ent enough. A few kisses with that on our lips and they’ll be seeing double.”

Leesha wanted to disapprove, but she needed a way into the city, and Roni had always been boy-crazed. She seemed to think it no hardship to tease her way through the gate.

“Well done, Roni,” she said instead, and a smile lit the girl’s face. “I’m proud of you.”

The shadows grew long as they waited in a small stand of trees by the gate, giving Leesha ample time to worry over her plan. Would the sun set with them still outside the city? It was the first night of Waning, and like a spider at the center of a web, the mind demons might sense a tremor in the wardnet if the gate opened at night.

She wondered where Gared and the others were—if they were all right. If her ruse worked and the minds did not realize she’d left her forces, all their attention would be focused on her friends.

But then there was a heavy click, and the door opened just a few inches.

“That’s my cue.” In a move that Leesha had seen Elona do countless times, Roni stuck a finger in her neckline, pulling down even as she used the heel of her hand to push her bosom up. She tugged the laces and tied a quick bow to hold things in place. “Wait here.”

With that, she flitted off and slipped through the gate.

The wait was interminable. Leesha watched the shadows and guessed it was no more than a quarter hour, but it felt like days. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest.

At last, the gate opened wide enough to emit a familiar face. Mistress Jizell, Leesha’s former teacher, reached out a meaty arm, waving them toward the door. “Quickly now.”

Hurriedly they filed through. Jizell locked the heavy door and pulled the warded steel gate shut. She locked that as well, shoving the key into her cleavage.

A guard was passed out at the gatehouse table, Roni wiping the red from his lips. She took a half-empty mug of ale, spilled a bit on the table and his shirt, then arranged it into his hand. Through the next door Leesha could hear laughter.

Leesha held out her arms to embrace her old teacher, but Jizell took a full platter of mugs off the table and shoved it at her instead. “We can hug when we’re safely away, girl.”

Leesha took the tray reflexively, and while her hands were full, Jizell shamelessly reached in and adjusted Leesha’s bosom in much the same fashion as Roni. Leesha hadn’t expressed in hours, and didn’t need much propping to give a man an eyeful. “Walk out like you belong there and start serving.”

Leesha looked over and saw Roni giving Kendall the same treatment. The young Jongleur’s scars made her cleavage too memorable, so they shortened her skirt and gave her hair a fluff. Pawl had already disappeared. Wonda stood awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

Jizell pinched Leesha’s bottom, giving her no time to ponder the problem. She yelped in surprise as she was shoved through the door.

Leesha quickstepped to regain her balance, putting on a wide smile as she swept into the guardroom. “Who’s thirsty?”

There was a cheer from the men, some swaying a bit on their stools as Jessa’s girls, several of whom Leesha recognized, worked the room. In one corner, Leesha’s old apprentice Kadie was propping a guard who could barely stand against the wall while he drowsily attempted to paw at her.

“Party got a little wild.” She winked. Leesha shook her head and started passing out full mugs and collecting empties.

Jizell strode to the front of the room. “Got a surprise for you this evening, boys. She’s the prettiest Jongleur in Angiers, or I’m a coreling.”

While all eyes were on Jizell, Kendall slipped from the gatehouse and sauntered up, all legs and hair. She did a backflip and put bow to string, playing a lively tune. The men gave a cheer.

Wonda attempted to leave the gatehouse next, but the sergeant happened to turn his head and noticed her. “Ay!” He pointed a swaying finger.

Leesha froze. She was behind the man with a heavy clay mug in her hand. She could…

“Yur shift ent over for another half hour, Ames!” the sergeant bellowed. “Back in the gatehouse!”

“Ay,” Wonda dropped her eyes and attempted to deepen her voice, hunching into her armor. “Yessir.” She scuttled back into the gatehouse.

The sergeant grunted, returning his eyes to Leesha’s neckline. “Freakish, how corespawned tall that boy’s gettin’.”

They kept to the crowded market streets on the way to Jizell’s hospit. At a glance, it could have been a normal day as folk bustled about making final purchases and sales before curfew sounded.

A closer look showed disheveled, fearful faces. Produce carts were half empty, the remainder poor specimens sold dear. Folk shifted nervously when Wooden Soldiers and Mountain Spears stomped past.

They made it to the hospit just as the sun set. Jizell opened the door to her private staircase. “Hurry, now. The corelings will rise any moment, and we don’t want to be caught on the street when that happens.”

Leesha heard a great din on the far side of the staircase wall. “I used to be able to count the number of full beds from the noise through this wall alone, but I’ve never heard it like this.”

Jizell huffed. “Ent surprising. Got two to a bed, and folk on the floor between.”

“Night,” Leesha said.

“Lot of men were cored that first new moon,” Jizell said. “We know our business and didn’t lose many who made it this far, but we’ve had to be careful not to draw attention, especially at night. We wait for daylight and use magic in a dark room for the worst wounds. The rest are left to heal naturally. We’re running out of hora as it is.”

She opened the door to her office and hurried them in, locking the door behind them. A woman rose from behind the desk, coming around to greet them.

“Countess.” Like her girls, Jessa’s face was painted, her hair immaculate. She spread the skirts of her silk gown, dipping in a perfect curtsy. “What a pleasure—”

Leesha gave her no chance to finish the sentence, punching the Weed Gatherer right in the nose.

Every jaw in the room dropped. Leesha couldn’t blame them. She’d expected to find the woman there, and had no intention of striking her, but her anger had risen quick when she saw Jessa’s smug face.

It’s the magic, she told herself. She had Drawn heavily of late, and knew how it enhanced the passions. But was it truly the magic? Leesha could not deny her satisfaction as Jessa’s bottom hit the floor hard.

Jessa clutched her bloodied nose, words slurring. “Whad id da Core dib yud do thabt for?!”

Thamos’ words came to her. There are times a leader must remain firm, even when they are in the wrong. Leesha hadn’t agreed at the time, but she saw the wisdom in it now. “That was for Bekka, who you nearly killed, and everyone else who paid the price for your scheming.”

Jessa pulled out a cloth, blowing bubbles of blood and examining the nose with skilled fingers to see if it was broken. She pinched at her brow to stem the blood flow.

“You’ve got some stones, girl. If Bruna were here, she would rap your knuckles with her stick. She could never suffer a hypocrite.”

“Ay, you can’t talk to Mistress Leesha like that!” Wonda took a step forward.

Jizell laid a gentle hand on Wonda’s breastplate, but it was enough to stop Wonda short. “Stay out of it, girl. This was a long time coming, and needs to run its course.”

“You’re the one Bruna cast out, Jessa,” Leesha said. “Not I.”

Jessa threw up her hands. “I admit to all of it. I tried to steal the secret of liquid demonfire. Do you know why?”

“Because you’re selfish and power-hungry?” Leesha guessed.

“Because Araine ordered me to!” Jessa snapped. “Just like she ordered Bruna to train me. You think that was an accident?”

Leesha blinked. It made an uncomfortable amount of sense, and explained why Araine so trusted the woman. “You weren’t so loyal to her when you were drugging her son.”

Jessa put her hands on her hips. “You want to blame me for every bad thing that’s happened, these last months. I can see it in your eyes.”

“And why shouldn’t I?” Leesha said. “I never would have come back to this cursed city if not for your scheming. Euchor would never have sent his flamework weapons south. Rojer would be alive.”

Jessa slapped her, hard on the face. The sound was like thunder inside Leesha’s head, and she stumbled back from the blow, cheek burning. “Don’t you talk to me about Rojer. That boy was like a son to me. You think I wanted anything to happen to him? That I wanted to be forced to hide rather than attend his funeral?”

She raised an angry finger. “I drugged Rhinebeck seedless, ay. That son of the Core had it coming. But Rojer and Jasin had blood between them long before you brought him back from the Hollow. Euchor’s wanted to be king since before you were born.

“But you, you had the demon of the desert out of his armor. You could have poisoned him, or slipped a knife between his ribs, and stopped his advance. Instead you let him curl your toes before going on to murder half of Lakton, and enslaving the rest.

“You think you can judge me, Leesha Paper? My girls? You’re as much the whore as any of us, though at least my girls are smart enough to remember their pomm tea.”

The words were harsher by far than Jessa’s slap; they were all Leesha’s deepest fears laid bare. Countless lives had been lost, but she would not change what happened with Ahmann. Not now. Not since Olive.

And in the end, it was Ahmann’s son who attacked Lakton. She couldn’t be blamed for that.

“We make our choices, Leesha, and we live with them,” Jessa said. “But none of it matters anymore. It’s us against the demons, now.”

How many times had Leesha said those same words, or watched Arlen shout them from a bandshell? They were everything she believed, and here Jessa was, explaining them to her.

And she was right.

“You’re right,” Leesha said. “I’m sorry.”

“There have been some changes in Angiers in your absence,” Jizell said. “Herb Gatherers and Weed Gatherers decided we had more in common than we thought. We are the resistance.”

“The mind demons have hypnotized half the men in Angiers,” Jessa said. “Made it so you can’t trust your own brother, but they’ve left the women alone. So long as no one attempts to escape during the day, or gets too close to the wards men are building around the palace, they go about their business and leave the women to ours.”

“And at night?” Leesha asked.

“The demons stopped attacking the walls,” Jizell said. “Some field and wood demons still rise in the city, and they’ll kill anyone out at night, but they don’t attack the wards or the men on the walls.”

“They want you alive,” Leesha said.

“Why?” Jessa asked. “For what?”

Leesha didn’t answer. “What do you think the wall guards will do when Gared’s army appears?”

“They’ll treat you as invaders, and fire upon you with flamework weapons,” Jessa said. “There are already Jongleurs spreading tales of the Ward Witch of the Hollow coming north to claim the rightful throne.”

“Rightful?” Leesha asked. “Pether is dead. Who sits upon it?”

“No one can prove he’s dead,” Jizell said. “The palace has been sealed since we smuggled out the Duchess Mum. They say it is for the Duke’s protection. Heralds speak in town square of Duke Pether’s curfews and new laws, designed to keep us away from the walls and the greatward they’re building.”

“Night.” Leesha took out her wand, drawing wards to silence and mask their presence. “Are any of your patients affected by the minds?”

“Not many,” Jizell said. “The apprentices question every new admission to probe for their influence. We’re blessed that the mind demons ent interested in hypnotizing the wounded, so there were none in that first attack. The stricken are new arrivals, guards injured preventing escapes, or the workers injured when part of the boardwalk collapsed while working on that new greatward. We have them quarantined.”

Leesha nodded. “We’ll need to question them. Particularly the ones that worked the greatward.”

“You may not get much out of them,” Jessa said. “They act open enough but get lockjaw when asked about their work. You need to circle the topic and infer.”

Leesha nodded, looking to Pawl. “Are you sure you can still get us into the palace? The brothel tunnels have no doubt been sealed.”

“They are…compromised,” Pawl agreed. “But they connect to others, known only to the royal family, that run the length of the palace.”

“What are you planning, girl?” Jizell asked.

Leesha ignored the question. “Do you have flamework?”

“This is a hospit,” Jizell said.

“I have it.” Jessa winked. “The Duchess Mum liked having a personal supply.”

“Which no doubt disappeared after her Weed Gatherer committed treason and fled her service,” Leesha guessed.

“Finally keeping up with the dance,” Jessa said. “How much do you need?”

“All of it,” Leesha said.

“That much flamework will draw a lot of attention,” Jessa warned.

“Waning has already begun,” Leesha said. “Who knows what the minds are doing at this very moment? Gared and the Hollow Soldiers might be fighting for their lives. We can’t afford to play this quietly.”

Jizell crossed her arms. “Play what?”

“At daybreak the girls are going to blow up the greatward,” Leesha said. “And while everyone is focused on that, we’re going to sneak into the palace and kill the mind.”

Demons still prowled the streets of Angiers in the twilight before dawn, but Leesha knew the minds would have long since retreated from the brightening sky. They moved quickly under the cloak of Kendall’s music, visiting Jessa’s hidden cache of flamework then setting the girls in position.

“Got maybe fifteen minutes between the last demon turning to mist and the morning work crew arriving,” Jessa said. “All the time in the world to plant a thunderstick, light the fuse, and walk away.”

The rest of them made their way to Jessa’s abandoned school—now a garrison for Wooden Soldiers. Roni and some of the girls were already there, charming the guards as they delivered morning pastries and coffee heavily laced with tampweed and skyflower. Leesha and the others joined in while Wonda, an Angierian tabard over her armor, took up a post and kept her helmet low.

“What…!” one of the guards gasped as his men began to drop to the floor. He stumbled toward Wonda. “Quickly, man! Sound the alarm!”

Wonda moved as if to steady him, then shoved a rag in his mouth and twisted him to the ground.

“Quickly now.” Jessa pulled the hidden latch that slid a bookcase aside, revealing a twisting stair down.

Just then the ground shook, and there was a great roar as the thundersticks blew apart the boardwalk greatwards.

“What’s going on up there?” a voice demanded.

Leesha poured two chemics into a flask and stuck in the cork, giving it a brisk shake. This she threw down the stairs to shatter on the landing. The mixture hissed and gave off an ominous steam. There were muffled shouts and coughing.

Wonda led the way down. She wore a filter mask, the wards on her helm allowing her to see clearly through the haze in wardsight. She was fast, and Leesha could hear bones breaking as she cleared the path. Even if they managed to wake, many of the men would not be able to follow.

Leesha slipped the wand from her belt and held her breath, stepping into the darkened stairwell. She drew air wards, and a gust of wind cleared the fog from their path as they descended.

“Kendall.” The young Jongleur tucked her fiddle under her chin and began to play as Jessa opened the secret tunnel nobles had used for two generations to access the brothel from the palace.

Leesha nodded to Jessa and Jizell. “Get out now. Gather the girls and keep them safe.”

Jizell gave her a quick hug. “Creator go with you, girl.”

“Ay,” Jessa said. “Good luck.”

And then Pawl led them into the darkness.

Kendall’s music wrapped around them like a Cloak of Unsight as she, Leesha, Wonda, and Pawl slipped by the corelings patrolling the catacombs. At one unremarkable wall, Pawl opened a hidden door that took them out of the demon-infested tunnels and into a narrow, carpeted passage that led up into Araine’s office in the women’s wing of the palace.

But the place was not what Leesha remembered. The windows were painted black and covered with heavy curtains, leaving them in darkness save for their wardsight. The walls and floors had been stripped of wards, scoured with deep claw marks.

“We have to cross the hall to the next passage,” Pawl said.

Under the cover of Kendall’s music, they slipped from the office to find the wide hall equally devastated. Demons slept on the floor, and Leesha discovered she was holding her breath as they tiptoed past. Pawl led them to another room where the cold fireplace opened to a new corridor.

“Almost there,” Pawl said, pointing to a doorway at the end of the narrow passage.

There was a growl behind them. Leesha looked back, seeing nothing. “Quickly now.”

Pawl nodded, hurrying to the door and opening it. Just then, the walls and floor behind them came alive, paint and carpet distending and turning to hard scales, molding into demonic form.

“Run!” Leesha cried, dashing through the doorway into the throne room. She felt the mind wards on the silver netting in her hair grow warm, and knew the trap was sprung even before wards lit up in a circle around them.

Wonda fired an arrow at the approaching demons, but it skittered off the wards and fell back at their feet. Kendall, still running, ran into the wardnet. It flared to life and she gave a cry of pain as she was thrown back, fiddle skidding across the floor.

Leesha lifted her hora wand, but an impact ward appeared in the air, knocking it from her grasp and out of the circle. There was a tug at her belt, and her hora pouch was yanked away. Wonda gave a shout, hammering the meat of her fists against the wards. With each strike she cried out in pain. Leesha could see in the magic spiderwebbing through the air there were no holes to exploit.

Pawl sauntered into the throne room even as the mimics began to circle, flitting half seen through the darkness.

“You little pissant!” Wonda continued to hammer at the wards, seemingly oblivious to the pain. “When I get my hand on you—!”

Pawl threw back his head and laughed. The sound sent a shiver down Leesha’s neck. When he spoke, his voice had grown colder—older. “For all your arrogance, you are no better than the lowliest rock drone, beating yourself to death against the wards.”

“Pawl?” Leesha asked.

“The boy’s mind is rich, for one so young,” Pawl said. “We will feast upon it, when we have no further use for him.”

Leesha tilted her head. “How did you get in? I painted the mind ward on him myself.”

One of the mimics shimmered, and as it walked up to the wards, Leesha’s heart caught in her throat. It looked for all she could tell that Rojer was standing right before her. “How delightfully stupid they are.”

Another mimic shimmered, taking the form of Thamos so precisely Leesha’s eyes grew moist. “Even now, they do not see.”

“You were always in,” Leesha realized. “From that first night. Araine didn’t escape. You let her go.”

“It would have been difficult to unseat you from your center of power,” Pawl agreed.

“Easier to dangle a carrot, and lure you like a mule,” Rojer said.

“The boy himself did not know he was ours, even as he led you to us,” Thamos said.

“And now what?” Leesha asked. “You kill us? Eat our minds?”

Pawl showed his teeth. “When you are of no further use to us.”

“Still they do not see,” Thamos repeated in wonder. “Pathetic.”

“We’re pathetic?!” Wonda shouted. “Yur the ones hidin’ behind kids and changelings!”

In response, the room brightened in wardsight, and Leesha looked up to see a demon lounging on the ivy throne, watching them with bulbous eyes. The coreling shone so bright with power, Leesha had to squint.

Two other mind demons stood at the base of the steps. Their thin bodies were no larger than Kendall, supporting great conical heads, ringed with vestigial horns and ridges that throbbed and pulsed.

Thamos lashed out an arm that became a long tentacle, wrapping around Leesha.

“Mistress Leesha!” Wonda grabbed her, but the demon was too strong. It yanked, pulling Leesha from the circle even as Wonda fetched up painfully against the wards and was thrown back.

Thamos pulled her in close, smiling in that way he had when they were alone. He caressed her cheek with his hand, feeling—even smelling—like Thamos. His hand slid up, gently sliding out the pins that held the warded silver hairnet protecting Leesha’s mind in place.

She thrashed, but Thamos only grinned. “Do not struggle, my love. Soon you will have such a headache you will beg for my caress.” He bent in and kissed her, so like Thamos, down to his breath. Leesha tried to hide her revulsion, but no doubt they could see it on her aura.

“When you leave this place, it will be with tales of our defeat,” Rojer said. “You will believe them. Remember them as if they truly happened. You will be regarded as saviors, and take command of your armies once more.”

“You will walk in day, and ward your mind at night, even as you weaken your defenses from within,” Pawl said.

“And the Hollow will be ours,” Thamos said.

It was Leesha’s turn to smile. “I don’t think so.”

“You are helpless to stop it.” Thamos pulled the last of the pins.

The boy with the blood debt will lead you into the spider’s web, Leesha’s dice had said. Only then may you strike.

“Now, dears,” she said into her warded earring.

The demons paused, but for a moment nothing happened.

Then there was a deafening boom that knocked human and demon alike from their feet. Even the demon atop the dais clutched the ivy throne tightly. There were more explosions, muffled by the ringing in Leesha’s ears.

And then, through the choking haze of dust, morning sunlight streamed through blown window frames to crisscross the throne room. The mind demons shrieked, scrambling for the shadows, but even there, the light touched them, their limbs smoking.

Micha appeared in one of the windows, pitching a spear of warded glass that punched through the chest of the mimic demon in Thamos’ form.

Stela Inn bounded through another, kicking the Rojer mimic into a sunbeam that burst it into flame. She snatched up the struggling Pawl before he could cause any mischief.

Leesha pulled free of the tentacle as Kendall snatched up her fiddle and Wonda charged from the now disabled circle.

The remaining mimics and minds could not mist and find a path to the Core in sunlight. They ran for the exits, but Stela Inn was faster, moving to block one hall. They scattered, but Brother Franq appeared at the next. Ella Cutter at a third.

“I’d like to introduce you to my Warded Children,” Leesha called to the demons as they shrieked and batted at the flames beginning to spark on their skin.

“We don’t like the way you’ve been treating Mum,” Stela said.