The Core (The Demon Cycle, Book 5)

by Peter V. Brett

‘Bows!’ Yon cried, and the Cutters raised their heavy crank bows. ‘Chip away at the stones!’

  Ragen hesitated, trying to gauge the range of the weapons against how far the demons might throw. Stone demons were terrifyingly strong, but they couldn’t throw farther than Hollow crank bows.

  Neither, it seemed, could the crank bows keep them from getting into range. Bolts that skewered lesser demons skittered off or were caught in the outer layers of stone armour, angering the demons more than harming them.

  One of them came into range with a bristle of sizzling bolts across its chest, drawing back a great arm to fling a rock the size of an apple crate.

  Ragen drew heat and impact wards, but again he overpowered the spell, and the silver stylus flew from his hand. The stone was shattered to pebbles, taking one of the demon’s hands with it. It clutched the crippled limb, screaming, even as Ragen turned and began frantically searching the ground for his stylus.

  Another stone demon readied a throw, but Derek drew a deft impact ward that batted the stone from its hand like a ball.

  More stone demons were coming up the road, even as Ragen got to hands and knees, pawing through the sod for his stylus. A third readied a throw, and Elissa drew a cold ward that struck it in the shoulder. When it brought its arm forward in the throw, there was a great crack! and the limb broke off, falling to the ground alongside the hunk of rubble.

  Ragen found his stylus and used his fine warded cloak to clean the mud from it, turning to see a stone strike Gema Cutter full in the chest, knocking her out of line and throwing her back to crash through one of the carts, opening a gap in the inner circle.

  Night. How old was Gema? Younger than Arlen. Her warded armour might have withstood the blow, but even so, no one could survive an impact like that.

  ‘That tears it!’ Yon cried. ‘Cutters! Tools out!’

  The men began to swing their axes, picks, and mattocks, splitting any demon fool enough to draw close to the wardnet like cordwood. The women continued to shoot, covering the men.

  Two more chunks of rubble smashed into the Cutter ranks. Lary Cutter struggled back to his feet using his long-handled axe as a crutch. His brother Fil remained on the ground, convulsing in his smashed armour.

  Demons concentrated fire on that spot, and finally a stone smashed one of the outer wardposts, opening a breach. Field and flame demons raced for the spot, and were met by a wall of Cutter shields. Yon and his men threw them back, hewing limbs and bodies with their axes.

  Ragen drew more wards, shattering the chest of a stone demon. The rock it lifted fell upon its dead body, but Ragen’s momentary satisfaction vanished when another demon picked up the stone and hurled it at him. He barely threw himself aside in time, and the stone blasted a hole in one of the wagons. On the far side he heard an animal scream.

  A field demon leapt from the shadows, throwing itself at Yon. Elissa drew a field ward and the coreling slammed into the forbiddance like a bird into a window, giving Yon time to split its skull.

  A wood demon reached for Lary, and she set it ablaze with a heat ward. The coreling stumbled, setting the scrub and grass alight, scattering its fellows. She drew a cold ward before the flames could spread, and the fire winked out, the demon crashing stiff to the ground, white with hoarfrost.

  The hairs on her arm stood on end as she drew the lectric ward, arcing lightning through a group of field demons racing toward Ragen, dropping them twitching onto their sides. The effect was temporary, but it bought them a few moments.

  But then she fell into shadow, and looked up to see a huge chunk of masonry arching toward her from above. She shrieked and threw herself to the ground as the masonry smashed the wardpost in front of her and bounced past, missing her by inches. She felt the wind as it passed.

  A field demon raced through the breach at her, so fast she barely drew a forbidding in time. The coreling’s slavering jaws were inches from her face when the ward activated. She was still linked to the script, and the rebound struck the stylus from her fingers even as the demon was knocked back.

  She struggled to get her hands under her. I’ll have to make a wrist thong, if I live to see the dawn.

  More demons poured through the gap in the wards. Elissa clutched at her pockets and found her purse, clawing open the knot. She scattered the ground around her with wooden Hollow klats, each with a ward circle stamped around its edge. Alone they were too small to make much difference, but together, perhaps they could buy her a moment to find her stylus.

  A wood demon stalked her, raising one of its arms like a great cudgel, but it stumbled as the klats sparked and jumped beneath its feet, knocking it over onto a field demon. The two landed in a tangle, clawing at each other.

  The outer circle had multiple breaches now, demons flooding the first ring. The Hollowers dropped their bows and it was close-quarters fighting, axes and spears and shields against a foe that only seemed to grow in number.

  A rock demon charged one of the breaches, swinging a full-grown tree like a club. Elissa found her stylus and drew another cold ward. The tree turned white with frost and shattered on the next swing, though it did little to save Amee Planter, who took the crushing blow on her shield.

  The demon was disorientated at the sudden loss of its weapon, and Yon Gray did not hesitate, leaping in close and burying his axe in the back of its knee. Men rushed in to surround the rock demon’s legs, some hacking while others used the defensive wards on their weapon hafts to block its blows and provide cover for their fellows.

  Another field demon came at Elissa, and she drew a forbidding, but the lines in the air were dim as the last of the pen’s charge was expended. The demon was slowed but not stopped, knocking her to the ground. Elissa had no armour like Ragen and Derek, and she screamed as talons raked her flesh.

  She had no weapon, so Elissa did the only thing she could think of, sticking her stylus into its eye. It was a desperate move. She could not hope to kill the creature with a pen, but perhaps she could slow it a few seconds – time for one of the others to reach her.

  But then the wards along the stylus’ length, inert a moment ago, flickered to life as ichor spilled over them. Instinctively, she thrust deeper, moving her fingers to the wards that would activate a Draw.

  The wards flared so brightly she needed to shut her eyes. Power flooded into the stylus, filling its reservoir, flowing into her when the hora inside could contain no more.

  Her wounds began to close. The ringing in her ears stopped. Strength like she had never imagined jolted through her muscles. She reversed the hold and kept the demon pinned until its thrashing began to die away.

  Then the stylus grew hot, and her eyes began to burn. She pulled back, kicking the demon’s lifeless form away. She lifted the stylus, scattering a reap of demons moving her way.

  There was a growl, and Ragen turned just in time to see a wood demon swipe at him. Defensive wards flared on his armour, but the rebound knocked him from his feet and he hit the ground hard, landing on the shield slung on his back. His warded spear was out of reach, stuck in the ground where he had been standing, and his stylus, for all its power, seemed scant defence in close as the demon swiped again.

  Ragen rolled, letting the demon’s talons deflect off the warded shield, and kept rolling, working the shield off his shoulders and slipping his left arm through the shield straps.

  The demon snarled, showing rows of bladelike teeth. Ragen’s every instinct was to run, but there were people counting on him.

  He was ready when the wood demon struck again. He hooked its leading talons with the edge of the shield, then push-kicked it in the belly, creating space to draw a quick impact ward that knocked it onto its back. A wood ward pinned it on the ground, out of the fight.

  A field demon clawed at Nona Cutter’s shield nearby. Ragen drew a cold ward and Nona didn’t hesitate, swinging her shield to shatter frozen scales and crack the demon’s sternum.

  Panting, Ragen scanned the scene, his heart pounding. Gap
s were opening all around the circle, too many for the Cutters to seal with their shields. Their formations were gone, too busy gasping to sing. Everyone was fighting for their lives.

  ‘Fall back into the carts!’ Ragen drew a sound ward to amplify his voice over the din. The inner circle was already compromised, but perhaps they might shore the defences long enough to regroup.

  The Cutters complied as they were able, falling through the gaps in the wagons into the inner circle. The women went first, and once protected they readied their bows. Charged with magic from fighting, they needed no cranks, pulling back the heavy strings with a flex of corded muscles to provide cover for the men’s retreat.

  As Ragen feared, the protection didn’t last. A stone demon caught one of the damaged carts in its talons, lifting the heavily laden wagon and hurling it aside. Twilight Dancer pulled his stake and leapt at the demon, spearing it on his great warded horns, but field demons leapt into the gap.

  Keerin appeared, playing desperately on his lute, but it seemed to have no effect on the charging demons. A pair of Cutters charged in front of him to hold them back. A wind demon swept down, taking one of the men in its talons and carrying him off.

  Ragen stuck a foot in Twilight Dancer’s stirrup and swung up into the saddle. ‘Those that are able, mount up and flee! I will clear a path to the road!’

  It was a desperate ploy, but perhaps a handful might outrun pursuit until dawn or the next way station.

  Then he saw a demon charging Keerin flinch and veer away. Oblivious, the Jongleur continued to play, but the sounds of battle were too great for his lute to overcome. There was little effect outside his immediate vicinity.

  Ragen lifted his stylus, drawing sound wards around the herald. Suddenly the discordant sounds of his instrument shook the night air, and the demons shrieked.

  The effect was so powerful and immediate that none could miss it. The demons backed away from the Jongleur, and the Cutters formed a ring around him, filtering the injured to the back of their ranks as Keerin’s music rang out into the darkness.

  Flame and field demons scampered off at speed. Stone demons put talons to their ears, howling as they stumbled back, easy prey the skilled Cutters took quick advantage of. In the sky, wind demons shrieked and banked away.

  Keerin’s confidence grew as he played, and his song changed, drawing the fleeing demons back just enough to put them in range as the Cutter women began to pick targets with their powerful crank bows. When they drew too close for his comfort, Keerin changed his tune again, driving them back.

  Elissa was already seeing to the wounded while Ragen and Derek used their styluses to shore up the gaps in the circle of protection. It began to look like they would survive after all, if not find outright victory.

  But then a boulder came crashing through their ranks, scattering warriors and forcing Keerin to tumble out of the way. He managed to hold on to his instrument, but the music stopped, and the corelings shook themselves, returning to their senses.

  Into the gap charged a massive field demon, big as a horse and running faster than even Twilight Dancer in open gallop. Its head was earless and smooth, and it seemed unaffected as Keerin resumed playing and other demons began to shriek again.

  A Cutter moved to block it from the Jongleur’s path. Jase was quick and agile as he timed the swing of his axe, but the demon barely slowed, its flesh flowing from the path of the strike. The demon stepped to the side and stood on its hind legs, sweeping a razor talon that grew two feet in length in the time it took to strike. Jase’s head flew from his body as the demon carried on, making for Keerin.

  His confidence vanished, Keerin stopped playing and tried to flee, but it was hopeless; the demon was too quick.

  Fast though it was, Elissa was faster. She raised her stylus, silver script tracing lectric wards in the air. She powered the spell, and lightning arced through the creature, knocking it from its feet. It melted away from the blast and re-formed, resuming its charge.

  ‘Corespawn you, Keerin!’ Ragen screamed as the other corelings began to converge again. ‘Keep playing!’ As he shouted, he raised his stylus, knocking the mimic demon from its feet with an impact ward, then powering a cold ward to freeze it.

  Hoarfrost gathered on the demon’s scales, but its eyes began to glow like a flame demon’s, and the rime began to melt.

  Elissa added her power to his, both circling the demon and drawing cold wards, even as Keerin resumed his song. Derek amplified Keerin once more, then drew an impact ward that shattered the mimic demon like glass.

  Just like that, the battle ended. The shattered bits of demon melted to ichor, lifeless and reeking, and Keerin’s music sent the lesser corelings running.

  Keerin continued to play long after the ward circles had been repaired. He played until his fingers bled, bandaged them, and played on.

  He played until the sun rose, then crawled into one of the remaining wagons and collapsed.

  ‘Lay the dead in the ruined wagons, and we’ll set them ablaze.’

  Yon looked at Ragen sceptically. ‘Don’t seem right, leavin’ ’em.’

  ‘Nothing about this cursed journey is right,’ Ragen said. ‘But if the demons are on our trail, we can’t allow the dead to slow the living.’

  Yon spat in the dirt. ‘Ay, all right.’

  By mid-morning they were on the road again, abandoning all the carts save the one where Keerin slept amid chests of precious hora from the Hollow. The rest of the company was still charged from killing demons, alert despite the lack of sleep and wounds mostly healed.

  They could see the smoke long before the next way station came into sight late afternoon. There was less than the total destruction of the last station, but the broken wall said enough.

  ‘Night,’ Derek breathed.

  ‘Ay, the caravan!’ a familiar voice called from the watchtower.

  ‘Ay, the way station!’ Ragen kicked Twilight Dancer into a gallop, quickly leaving the others behind as he raced to the gate.

  The guard met him at the gate, and Ragen was surprised to find he knew the man. Sergeant Gaims, who once worked the Miln city gate.

  ‘Guildmaster Ragen!’ Gaims cried. ‘Thank the Creator! Have you a Gatherer in your company?’

  ‘We don’t,’ Ragen said, ‘but I’ve some Gathering training, and many of the Hollowers in our escort have experience with demon wounds. What happened here?’

  ‘Corelings attacked the station just before dawn,’ Gaims said as Elissa, Derek, and Yon caught up. ‘We weren’t expecting it. Demons attack at sunset or deep in the night, not as the sky lightens. Before we knew they were there, the wall was cracked open and corelings were flooding the yard. We fired on them, knocking some of the lesser demons from their feet, but most shook the wounds off. Bullets didn’t even slow the larger demons.’

  ‘Creator,’ Elissa said.

  ‘We barricaded ourselves in the station, but the corelings had a shape changer with them. Punched a hole in the wall and poured through it like cake batter. Then it was in among us …’ Gaims shuddered.

  ‘How many survivors?’ Ragen asked.

  ‘That’s the thing,’ Gaims said. ‘It didn’t kill anyone.’

  Ragen blinked. ‘No one?’

  Gaims shook his head. ‘Broke our weapons. Bit and sliced and bashed. Crippled a few men, and others hurt real bad. Everyone is on their back, but so far no one’s died.’

  ‘How come you’re all right?’ Ragen asked.

  Gaims paled, and Ragen didn’t need an answer. ‘You ran.’

  The guard looked at his feet. ‘Hid in the cold cellar.’

  ‘Why you little …!’ Yon balled a fist, but Ragen held up a hand.

  ‘Any man with a lick of sense will run from a mimic demon, Yon. We’re not here to judge.’

  Yon eased his hand open. ‘Ay, fair and true. Leave judgement to the Creator.’

  ‘Who’s in command?’ Ragen asked.

  ‘Lieutenant Woron,’ Gaims said, ‘but he�
�s in a bad way.’

  ‘Run and tell him help’s arrived,’ Ragen said. Gaims backed quickly away from Yon and ran inside the station. The doors had been bashed in, but the walls were mostly intact.

  ‘Expected more from the Mountain Spears, after all the ale stories in Angiers,’ Yon said when the man was gone. ‘Mark me, there’s somethin’ that little pissant ent tellin’ us. Corelings don’t leave folk alive.’

  ‘Nor do they attack just before dawn,’ Elissa put in.

  ‘Unless they were the same demons that fled Keerin’s music,’ Derek said. ‘It would have taken most of the night to reach the next station and try to deny us succour.’

  ‘Dun’t explain leavin’ survivors when they had the walls down,’ Yon said.

  ‘Because they’re not just denying us succour,’ Ragen realized. ‘It’s a trap.’

  Elissa nodded. ‘Twenty wounded men in a station already breached. They know we can’t just leave them.’

  ‘Can’t we?’ All eyes turned to Derek.

  Yon’s hand curled again. ‘Just once, gonna pretend ya din’t say that, boy.’

  Derek held up his hands. ‘I want to help these men as much as you, but if the demons want us to do something, we should at least consider not doing it.’

  ‘Consider all ya like,’ Yon said. ‘But ya wanna run, yu’ll do it alone. Cutters don’t leave folk to the demons.’

  Elissa laid a hand on Derek’s arm. ‘Yon’s right.’

  Derek blew out a breath. ‘Ay, all right. What do we do?’

  ‘Bring everyone inside and patch the breaches in the wall with wardposts,’ Ragen said. ‘Make sure to create fallback positions. Wake Keerin and put him in the watchtower. Elissa and I will go talk to the lieutenant.’

  ‘Ay, we’ll see to it,’ Yon said.

  Elissa looked at the wounded in horror. She’d seen blood aplenty in the last year, a stark reminder that humans were fragile things of meat and bone.

  ‘Good to … see you … Guildmaster.’ The words seemed to exhaust Lieutenant Woron, and he lay back against the wall, drawing a slow, wheezing breath. He’d taken his own mountain spear in the midsection, the bayonet’s point jutting from his back. He was pale, bathed in sweat. Elissa marvelled that he was still alive.