The Core

by Peter V. Brett

  Arlen turned his back, fists clenched.

  Renna turned to Leesha. “Know it’s your office, mistress, but I’d like a few minutes alone with my husband.”

  Floating above her was a ghostly image of Renna slapping the back of Arlen’s shaved head. It was so comic Leesha had to fight back a smile. “Of course.”

  —

  Arlen didn’t need to see Renna’s aura to recognize her tone when she asked the others to leave. He made her promise to slap the fool out of him when it was warranted, and it was a promise she’d never failed to keep. He turned, ready to bat the hand aside.

  But Renna stood calmly, arms crossed. There was no anger in her aura, only disappointment. “Turnin’ your back on folk in need? That ent the man I married.”

  He grit his teeth at the sting of the words. “What am I supposed to do, Ren? Barely kept you in check when you turned feral. To hear Leesha tell it, there’s dozens of them now. Ent got time for this.”

  “So we’re gonna give up on ’em?” Renna demanded. “Hollow folk? Stela Inn? Callen Cutter? You an’ I were worth savin’, but they ent?”

  “Ent as simple as that,” Arlen said.

  Renna jerked her head from side to side. “All Deliverers, you said. You mean that, or was it just words to trick a bunch of scared woodcutters out into the night?”

  “Course I meant it,” Arlen said.

  “Then we need to make time,” Renna said. “You can spare a couple hours.”

  Arlen scowled. “Couple hours ent gonna do it. I been gettin’ help for two years now, and I still nearly ripped Gared Cutter’s head off when he struck a nerve. You heard Leesha. Franq’s got their heads spinnin’ with this Deliverer nonsense. Already twistin’ our words to suit himself. Anythin’ I say’s gonna to get turned around once I go.”

  “Then he needs a spankin’,” Renna said. “Front of everyone. An’ words he can’t twist. Creator knows I don’t shine over Leesha Paper as much as the rest of this town, but even I can see the sense in tellin’ the Warded Children to mind her until this swarm business is done.”

  Arlen blew out a breath. “Say I do that. Take Stela an’ Franq an’ anyone else needs it to the woodshed. Tell ’em to stop stealin’, mind the Hollow’s leaders, and keep the fight to the demons. For the sake of argument, say it even works.

  “Then say just one of them runs their mouth in town about me bein’ alive, or gets caught by a mind. Our whole plan falls apart. Everything we sacrificed, all these months. Demon princes ent dumb, Ren. They’ll figure what we’re aiming for and be ready for us.”

  Renna put her hands on her hips. “Ay, then. I’ll do it.”

  Arlen shook his head. “It’s too dangerous…”

  Renna spat on the floor. “Kids don’t know their own strength yet. Took me months and my life on the line to learn to mist. Now’s the time to get ’em to eat a little dirt and set ’em back in the sun.”

  She grinned. “Think the minds were scared of us? What’re they gonna do when there’s dozens out there?”

  Slowly, Arlen too began to smile. “Keep their eyes on the surface. Stop lookin’ for us.”

  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.