Briar stood dumbfounded. “Saw magic like that in the Hollow at Halfgrip’s funeral. Two Krasian women singing.”
Kaji had fallen asleep, and Ashia laid him curled in the hollow of her shield. “My cousins Amanvah and Sikvah. They and their honored husband were touched by Everam. I am only running my fingers across the surface of their power.”
Something caught Briar’s attention. He turned away, peering into the night.
Ashia moved to his side. “What is it?”
Briar pointed to a wood demon, bigger and stronger than those common to the wetlands. “That corie’s been followin’ us.”
“Are you sure?” Ashia asked. The alagai did not appear interested in them.
“Sure,” Briar said.
Ashia squinted in Everam’s light, trying to study the pattern of magic in the demon’s aura. It did not appear interested in them, but its aura said otherwise. They were its only interest.
“I think you are right,” Ashia agreed. “We should kill it. Stay with…”
“No.” Briar was already moving out of the circle, spear in hand. “Got it.”
Ashia pursed her lips beneath her veil. She was used to commanding obedience, but Briar was his own force.
To his credit, even with Ashia knowing what to look for, Briar slipped unseen from the alagia’viran. She caught only the barest glimpse as he slipped into the trees. The demon gave no sign, in behavior or aura, that it noticed his departure.
But then there was a call in the distance. The demon cocked its head, then turned and ran after the sound.
A few moments later there were shrieks and flashes of light. Too far for Ashia to make out the details, but as the light and sound continued, a dread began to fill her. If Briar had surprised a lone demon, even a large one, he should have been able to kill it quickly. No warrior wanted a prolonged battle with a demon that large. Demons did not tire.
It went on, and on, and Ashia got to her feet, flicking her arms to extend the blades in her short spears. Every muscle in her body screamed for her to rush out and protect Briar. To stand in challenge against the alagai.
But Kaji, lying in her shield, bound her to the circle. What would happen to him if Ashia and Briar were killed?
Still the battle raged, and Ashia made her decision. She reached for Kaji’s pack. If they were to go into danger, let it be together.
The night fell silent. Ashia shivered, staring into the darkness. Ten breaths. Twenty. She picked up the pack and began to pull the straps over her shoulders.
“Ashia!” Briar materialized out of the darkness, in the open ground where the bog demon had slashed away the demon root. “Ent a normal corie. Need to see.” He stared to turn.
Ashia glanced at Kaji, asleep in her shield. “Is it dead?”
“Ay,” Briar said. “Way’s clear, we’re quick.”
“Everam curse me.” Ashia lifted her spears and followed, running low to the ground until she caught up with him in the trees. “Briar! By Everam, you will tell me…”
Briar turned to face her, a cool breeze at his back, and for once he did not smell of demon root.
It was all the warning she had before the mimic demon lashed out with an arm that lengthened into a tentacle with a spearlike tip. Ashia threw herself back at the last instant, but it was her armor that saved her. The overlapping plates of warded glass deflected the blow, but she felt the woven layers of silk holding them in place weaken and tear. She would not survive a second blow in the same place.
Enkido’s training came to her instinctively. She stole energy from the blow, using it to roll out of the way and back to a position of balance. She felt the vibration as tentacles twice struck the ground mere inches from her, but she kept ahead of them as she circled back in, spears leading.
Another tentacle whipped out to slow her, but Ashia bent as a palm in the wind, slashing with the blades of her spears as it passed overhead. There was a spray of ichor and a lifeless thump behind her as she stepped in close, stabbing at the demon’s body.
The demon howled as magic flared and rushed into her. Ashia looked up, expecting to see the light leave its eyes, but the demon only snarled and spit fire in her face.
Firespit was one of the most dangerous weapons in the alagai’s arsenal. It clung like sap but burned hotter than a furnace. Instinctively, Ashia pulled back, even as the wards on her jewelry warmed, turning the fire into a cool breeze.
The demon stole a moment to re-form, but Ashia knew the respite would be short-lived. She glanced at the rise and saw with horror that demons were coming out of the surrounding woods in frightening numbers. The foremost held branches, mowing down the demon root with calm efficiency. The demons hissed as they stepped onto the bed of mown alagai’viran, but they pressed forward, closing in on Kaji.
Ashia turned and bolted for the rise before the demons grew too thick to get past. She made several strides before a tentacle snaked around her ankle, pulling her from her feet. She caught herself with her hands, using the energy of the pull to twist into a slash of her long-bladed spear. The severed tentacle fell limp around her ankle, and she shook it free as she rolled into a defensive stance.
The mimic was still mostly in the form of a wood demon, and it abandoned water demon tentacles in favor of powerful branchlike arms.
They were formidable weapons, talons like sharpened stakes, but the large form was slow compared with tiny Ashia—her speed heightened by magic. She wove through the blows to step in past the demon’s guard, stabbing with both spears. They crackled with magic, and Ashia felt some of it rush into her.
She longed to keep the feeling, but there was no time. She pulled the weapons free and rolled away from the mimic’s attempt to claw her. The demon struck itself instead, howling in pain.
A few quick strides closer to Kaji before she was forced to turn and face the demon again. Already alagai crested the rise and were testing the wards around Ashia’s circle. Magic skittered across the wardnet like dew sparkling on a web.
The mimic came in hard, and like a tree sprouting new limbs the gnarled arms split, four attacks instead of two. Ashia ducked one, slipped another, parried a third, but the fourth snaked around her guard, striking her across the back. Her armor held, but at least one of her ribs cracked with the blow.
The demon came on again, and this time Ashia was faster, dancing past all four limbs and preparing to deliver a devastating counterblow.
But four limbs became eight. The demon spun, limbs whipping at her too fast to see clearly. Ashia worked on instinct, skittering back and trying to bat the blows out of alignment, tangling its limbs. She gave ground until the demons swarming the hill were at her back. Those nearest turned to face her, and the mimic struck.
The lesser demons did not attack, simply blocking Ashia’s path. With no room to retreat, she went back on the offensive, slicing away at the demon, bit by bit. Mimics could heal most any wound that wasn’t fatal, but they could not regrow or reattach mass that was severed.
She could wear it down.
A familiar squeal cut through the sound of combat. Ashia stole a glance and atop the rise saw Kaji, roused by the sounds of battle and demons at the wards, roll out of her wobbling shield in a tumble of blanket.
And then he did something miraculous.
She watched with shock and a little pride as, for the first time in his life, Kaji rose shakily on his own two feet and began to stumble through the camp, right for the flashing wards.
“Wads!” he shouted, and Ashia felt fear like she had never known.
The distraction proved too much. The mimic pounced, knocking her down and pinning her arms, spears useless. Ashia struggled against its foul weight, but even her heightened strength could not overcome the physics of it. This was no mindless alagai. This demon knew how to fight. Its maw opened, jaw unhinging as it grew wide enough to swallow her head. Even as she watched, rows of teeth added to the thickening gums.
Drawing a deep breath, Ashia did the only thing s
he could do. She shrieked.
It was not a cry of fear or a wail of pain. It was the raw essence of the verse in the Song of Waning that gave pain to alagai. Unable to sing fully, she held those harsh notes in the air, waving them like a torch.
The response was immediate. The wood and bog demons nearest to her scattered, and even the mimic loosened its grip, limbs moving instinctively to cover its head. Ashia lost one of her spears in the struggle to get free, but she managed to kick the demon off her, scrambling up the rise, using her voice to drive the demons away. With her free hand she pulled off her veil and dialed the wards on her necklace, adding power to her song.
A tree stump, torn from the ground the way a child might grasp a handful of sand, struck her hard in the back before she made it to Kaji. The heavy wood blasted the breath from her, and scattering soil choked her when she tried to draw another. The song died on her lips.
She went limp, letting her armor absorb as much of the blow as possible as she hit the ground in a roll, diffusing the impact. It only took a moment to find her balance, landing just steps from her son, toddling toward disaster.
But it was long enough for the mimic to pounce, pinning her. She gasped a breath, throat still raw, but a tentacle snaked around her mouth, silencing her. The demon drew back an arm, razor-sharp talons lengthening.
A speartip, bright with magic, thrust out from the mimic’s midsection, spraying Ashia with ichor. The demon screamed, loosening its grip enough for her to draw a shallow breath, but not enough to escape.
Briar appeared, running up the mimic’s back and taking its head in a sharusahk hold. His hands blazed with magic. The demon thrashed and gnashed its jaw, but it could not loosen the hold. Ashia could see it jolting as wards on Briar’s hands sent waves of crushing magic through its skull.
The demon began to lose cohesion, the limbs holding Ashia turning flaccid. She struggled, managing to slip free. She hacked with the blade of her spear, stabbing and cutting while the demon did not have the wherewithal to heal.
But then there was a flash of light and a cry from above. A demon had struck at Kaji, slamming against the wardnet. The alagai rebounded, stunned, and Kaji fell back, landing hard on his bottom.
“Go!” Briar shouted.
Kaji had begun to cry, but stopped when he saw her coming. “Mama!” He got to his feet more easily this time, reaching for her and again stepping toward the wards.
And then she was there, sweeping him into her arms. “My son, my son! I am with you.” She kissed his head. “Be brave, Kaji.”
She tucked him into his pack and slung it over her back. Twisting the end of her remaining spear, she telescoped it to twice its size, taking her shield in her other hand.
Briar gave a yelp, and Ashia looked up to see the mimic had him wrapped in a horned tentacle, its flesh hissing and giving off some foul vapor as it gripped him. Unable to hold on for long, it flung the boy into the ward circle. Briar tangled up in the cord as he rolled to a stop, pulling the wards askew and opening a great gap in the protection.
The mimic took a moment to regroup, three demons forming a defensive wall around it. Briar’s spear sloughed out of its body. Its flesh became hard and resilient once more, but Ashia could see its magic was dimmer. The demon was weakening.
Rasa gave a terrified whinny as alagai swarmed for the break in the circle. She pulled up her stake, rearing and leaping out into the night. For a moment it looked as if she might break away, but then the demons turned and half a dozen raced after her.
Rasa’s screams sounded almost human as they tore her apart.
A pair of bog demons were first to reach the gap in the wards, but Ashia made short work of them, batting the attack of one into the other, then using the distraction to spear the second through the heart. She twisted her spear as she pulled pack, making sure the organ was torn beyond the alagai’s ability to repair before it died.
She caught the next attack from the first demon on her shield, punching her spear up through its chin and into its brain.
But it was all just distraction as the newly re-formed mimic came at them, a rock demon’s body gliding on wind demon’s wings. It lashed out with the horned tentacles of a water demon, its flame demon snout aglow with firespit.
Ashia felt Briar rushing her way, but without his spear she did not think he could get close enough to do the demon harm before it killed him.
Still he leapt by her, turning a circuit and hurling the soup pot at the demon. Briar’s hogroot stew splashed across the mimic and it shrieked, flesh boiling and bubbling like tar.
They both rushed in, Ashia catching a thrashing mass of tentacles on her shield, severing a thick one before skittering back. Briar leapt in, and Ashia could see the large wards tattooed on his palms, shining with magic. He struck the demon in the throat with the impact ward, choking it on its own firespit, then boxed its ears.
The demon stumbled and Ashia was back in, stabbing and slicing, spear spinning.
A swamp demon managed to get behind her. She sensed its leap, but was not fast enough as it struck Kaji’s pack with its talons.
Kaji cried out, but the warded glass scales woven in silk between the layers of stout cloth turned the blow. Her son’s cries told her he was all right even as she opened the swamp demon’s stomach and gave it a kick, watching its vital organs spill onto the wet ground.
The mimic was just getting its footing when Briar threw a pouch at its maw. Instinctively, the demon chomped down, and the pouch erupted in a cloud of demon root powder. Ashia slashed across its throat as Briar rolled down the hill for his spear.
More demons took the places of the fallen. One fell before it could reach Ashia and Kaji, Briar’s thrown spear pinning it to the ground. Briar retrieved Ashia’s lost spear as well, burying it in the mimic’s back.
Her breath returned, Ashia began to sing, her voice keeping the lesser demons at bay while she and Briar pressed the mimic. It was slowing noticeably now. Healing and transforming its flesh took an enormous amount of magic, and in Everam’s light it was growing dimmer and dimmer.
They did not let up. It tried to take flight, but Ashia slashed a great rent in its leathery wing, bashing the light, flexible bone that supported it with her shield. The wards on the rim flared, and she felt the bone shatter.
The other wing fell limp and Briar ran right up it, seizing the demon’s horns in his warded palms, pulling its head back. Ashia took the opportunity to lunge, and at last managed to sever the demon’s neck.
The other demons froze as the mimic fell dead, already beginning to melt like wet clay.
Ashia shrieked at them, and the alagai fled.
—
Briar had broken down the camp as the sky filled with color. Ashia patrolled the ring, her warded eyes searching the darkness and fog for signs of cories. It seemed the demons had fled the rising sun’s power, but they were not prepared to break the wardnet before sunlight touched the rise.
Neither of them slept, even after the circle was restored. The power they Drew battling the mimic was more than enough to sustain them. Briar’s muscles felt like ship cables, and he was jittery with energy. He felt he could throw Ashia and Kaji both on his back and run a hundred miles.
Only Kaji slept, snoring peacefully in his harness on Ashia’s back. His breath was deep and even, like Briar’s father, Relan, had taught his sons during their sharusahk lessons. Briar breathed with him, borrowing the boy’s peaceful nerves to settle his own.
He made quick forays outside the circle to harvest the hogroot the cories had reaped, filling his pockets and pouches. He bruised handfuls of leaves, rubbing the sticky sap into his clothes.
He handed a few stalks to Ashia. “You, too.”
He was getting better at reading her expression under the veil. Her nose scrunched slightly in disgust.
Briar was not offended. Folk were always like this around him. Some threw stones, calling him Stinky. Mudboy. Ashia was not so cruel, but he could smell the soap on
her, and even after weeks in the wetlands the silks she wore remained pristine as one of Leesha Paper’s dresses. She might be down in the mud, but she was raised in a palace.
Still, there was no time to coddle. Briar shook the leaves at her. “Cories got our scent. Need to do everything we can to shake the trail.”
Ashia sighed, taking the stalks. “Do you think we can?”
“Got a few tricks to pull. Gonna be a long day’s running, but we’ll have safe succor tonight.”
“We will need it,” Ashia said. “It will be the better part of a week before Waning is safely past. It seems even a crescent strengthens Nie’s power.”
The words were serious, but Briar remained confident. “Best briarpatch I got. Cories can get us there, they can get us anywhere.”
Ashia stared at him a moment, then nodded. The decision made, she was thorough and efficient, grinding the leaves and rubbing them over every inch of her silks, permanently ruining them with sticky, smelly sap. She set Kaji down, rubbing the sap into his pack, even his blanket.
Briar broke off the best leaves, mixing them with nuts and berries and a bit of oil for their breakfast.
“Why do you hide them?”
“Ay?” Briar looked up, finding her staring at his hands, again covered in their wraps.
“Your tattoos,” Ashia said. “Do you cover them because you fear I will be offended?”
Briar remembered what Jarit had told him about the Krasians and tattoos. It was supposed to be an affront to Everam, but Briar could not see how.
Briar turned slightly, hiding his hands. “Don’t like the look of them, is all.”
“But they give you power,” Ashia pressed. “I do not believe they are an affront to Everam. My master Enkido was tattooed, and I know of no man save the Deliverer himself who carried greater honor.”
“Got ’em for the wrong reasons,” Briar said.
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