The Daylight War

by Peter V. Brett

  Renna’s satisfaction at the blow was short-lived. Promise stumbled, momentarily losing her stride, and the other corelings gained quickly, almost upon her. Back down the road, the demon she had kicked rolled to a stop and wobbled to its feet. Already its magic was repairing the damage. It would be back in the chase before long.

  Arlen let go of Twilight Dancer’s reins and turned, drawing a ward in the air. Renna felt a rush of air, and the corelings at her heels were thrown back like leaves in the wind.

  Renna smiled and looked back at Arlen, but the curve fell from her lips as she saw how his glow had dimmed. He couldn’t keep using that trick, and the field demons at his own back were barely a stride behind. She cursed her own stubborn refusal to practise with the bow he had given her.

  A field demon leapt, its long hooked talons digging deep grooves into Twilight Dancer’s hindquarters just beneath the barding as it tried to pull the massive stallion down.

  Dancer broke stride to kick back, his warded hooves crushing the demon’s skull, but the pause gave another of the demons time to climb atop an ancient pile of crete and hurl itself at Arlen.

  Arlen twisted, catching a swiping paw in one hand and punching the demon hard in the head with the other. ‘Don’t slow!’ he called as Promise ran past.

  Magic flared from the wards on his fist as he struck again and again, leaving the demon’s face a ruined mass. He hurled the demon back into the reap, knocking others to the ground in a jumble, then kicked Dancer back into a gallop.

  They soon caught up, but Dancer’s flanks were wet with running blood, and his speed began to lessen as the demons renewed their chase.

  ‘Night!’ Renna looked up the road, seeing another reap of demons charging at them from the opposite direction, spread as wide as the road. To either side the ground fell away in a thicketed ditch. There was no escape there.

  Part of Renna longed to fight. The demon in her blood shrieked for the carnage, but the sense left to her knew it was a hopeless battle. If they couldn’t break the ring and outrun the pack, it was likely only Arlen would survive to see the dawn.

  The thought gave her some comfort as she leaned in to the charge.

  ‘Stomp right through,’ she whispered in Promise’s ear.

  ‘Follow my lead,’ Arlen called. He had leached some power from the demon he’d killed, though it was still less than he’d started with. He drew a quick ward in the air, and the demons directly in front of the horses were knocked aside. He laid about with a long spear, jabbing at any demon that drew too close, but one was not fast enough and was trampled under Twilight Dancer’s hooves, magic flashing in the night. Renna followed right behind, trampling the hapless demon further, leaving it crushed and broken.

  Left to itself, the demon might have recovered from even these grievous injuries, but its reapmates sensed its weakness and temporarily gave up the chase, falling upon it viciously, rending its armour with their long talons and tearing away large chunks of flesh in their teeth.

  Renna bared her teeth, and for a second, imagined herself joining them, feasting on demon meat and revelling in the power it brought.

  ‘Eyes in front!’ Arlen snapped, breaking her from the trance. Renna shook her head and turned away from the grisly scene, putting her mind back to the business at hand.

  It looked like they might clear the trap, but the clash had slowed them enough for a wind demon to chance a dive at Renna, talons leading to snatch her right from horseback and carry her off.

  The blackstem wards on Renna’s arms and shoulders flared, forming a barrier that gave the demon’s talons no purchase, but the force of the rebound threw Renna from Promise’s back. She hit the ground hard, smashing her right shoulder with a pop and tasting dirt and blood in her mouth. The wind demon crashed shrieking down beside her, and she rolled, just barely avoiding the razor-sharp talon at the end of its massive wing.

  Her shoulder screamed at her as she shoved herself to her feet, but Renna embraced the pain as wood embraces fire, awkwardly pulling her knife in her left hand. To lie still was to die.

  Not that her chances of living were very good. Nearby, Promise reared and bucked, kicking at the field demons snapping and clawing at her from all sides. In a moment they would be upon Renna as well.

  ‘Renna!’ Arlen wheeled Twilight Dancer about, but even he couldn’t be quick enough.

  The wind demon struggled awkwardly to its feet. Wind demons were clumsy on land, and Renna used that to her advantage, kicking a leg out from under it and driving her warded knife deep into its throat as it fell. There was a hot splash of ichor on her hand, and she felt a wave of magic pump into her. Already, her injured shoulder felt stronger.

  A field demon leapt upon Promise’s back, and Renna reached into her pouch for a handful of chestnuts. The heat wards she had painted activated when they struck the coreling, and the nuts exploded with a series of bangs and flashes, scorching its coarse armour. The demon wasn’t badly injured, but it was startled and stung, enabling Promise to buck it from its tenuous perch.

  Renna didn’t have time to see what happened next, as the corelings took note of her and several raced her way. Renna sidestepped the first and kicked it in the belly, the blackstem impact wards on her shin and instep flashing with power. The demon was launched away like a child’s ball. Another hit her from behind, clawing through her tight-laced vest and scoring deep lines in her back. She fell to her knees as another came at her from the front, biting hard at her shoulder.

  This time, her wards were not enough to turn the demon. Blood and filth had weakened them, and Renna screamed as the demon locked down, its four sets of talons raking at her. Some of her wards remained in effect, but others did not. The demon’s claws skittered along the flash of magic until they found openings and dug in hard.

  But the pain and the magic both were a drug to Renna. In that moment, she didn’t care if she lived or died, she only knew that she would not die first. Again and again her arm pumped, stabbing her father’s knife into the coreling, bathing in its ichor. Her power intensified even as its weakened. Slowly, she began to force it back, feeling its talons slide back out of her flesh inch by agonizing inch.

  It was dead when Twilight Dancer scattered its reapmates to stand over her and Arlen leapt down, his robe cast aside. His wards flared bright as he prised open the snout of the demon and pulled it off her, hurling it into several others, all of them going down in a heap. Another came at him, but he took it down in a sharusahk pivot and stabbed a finger that sizzled like a hot poker through the coreling’s eye.

  Renna growled, raising her knife. Her body screamed at her, but the magic that gripped her was stronger. The night was a dizzy haze of blurred figures, but she could make out Promise’s huge form, and the demons surrounding her. One swung wildly from her neck, grasping for purchase. If it found its grip, Promise would be pulled down. Renna gave a mad howl and ran her way.

  ‘Renna, corespawn it!’ Arlen shouted, but Renna ignored him and waded into the demons’ midst, kicking and shoving corelings aside and laying about with her knife as she struggled to Promise’s side. Every blow sent a shock of magic thrilling through her, making her stronger, faster – invincible. She leapt up and caught one of the scrabbling hind limbs of the demon on Promise’s back, pulling it into position as she stabbed it in the heart.

  Arlen ran after her, collapsing into smoke as demons struck at him, only to turn deadly solid a split second later, striking hard with warded fists and feet, knees and elbows, even the top of his shaved head. He was beside her in an instant and gave a shrill whistle, calling Dancer to them.

  The great stallion scattered another group of demons on the way, giving Arlen time to draw large field demon wards in the air around them. With her warded eyes, Renna could see the thin trail of magic he left to hold each symbol together. A field demon leapt at them, and two of the wards flared, throwing it back. The wards would only grow stronger the more they were struck. Arlen moved in a steady line, forming
a circle around them, but ahead of him, several demons barred his path, continuing to snap and claw at Promise’s flank. She moved for them, knife leading.

  Arlen grabbed her arm, yanking her back. ‘You stay put.’

  ‘I can fight,’ Renna growled. She tried to pull her arm free, but even with her night strength, he held her in place easily. He turned and drew a series of impact wards in the air, knocking the demons away from Promise one by one.

  As he did, his grip weakened, and Renna used the opportunity to pull away from him with a snarl. ‘You don’t get to tell me what to do, Arlen Bales!’

  ‘Don’t make me slap the fool out of you, Ren!’ Arlen snapped. ‘Look at yourself!’

  Renna looked down, gasping at the deep wounds gaping in her skin. Blood ran freely in a dozen places, and her back and shoulder were on fire. The mad night strength left her, and her knife dropped, too heavy to lift. Her legs gave way.

  Arlen was there in an instant, easing her to the ground, and then moved off to complete the wardnet around and above them. More and more field demons came racing down the road, surrounding them like an endless field of grass, but even that great host could not pierce Arlen’s wards, nor the flight of wind demons circling in the sky.

  He was back at her side as soon as the net was complete, cleaning the dirt and blood from her wounds. There was a fallen demon inside the forbidding, and he dipped a finger in its ichor like a quill in an inkwell, writing wards on her skin. She could feel her flesh tightening, pulling as it knit back together. It was incredibly painful, but Renna accepted it as the cost of life and breathed deep, embracing it.

  ‘Put your cloak on while I tend the horses,’ Arlen said when he had done all he could. Renna nodded, pulling her warded cloak from the pouch at her waist. Lighter and finer than any cloth Renna had ever felt, it was covered in intricate embroidered wards of unsight. When drawn about her, it rendered Renna invisible to corespawn. She had never cared for the cloak, preferring to let the demons see her coming, but she couldn’t deny its usefulness.

  Lacking the warded barding of Twilight Dancer, Promise was easily the more wounded of the two horses, but she stamped and snorted at Arlen’s approach, teeth bared and snapping. Arlen ignored the posturing, moving almost too fast to see as he swept in and took a great handful of Promise’s mane. The mare tried to pull away, but Arlen handled her like a mother changing a struggling baby’s nappy. Eventually, Promise relented and let him tend her, perhaps realizing at last that he was trying to help her.

  The casual display of power might have surprised her a few days ago, but Renna was used to surprises from Arlen now, and it barely registered. Again and again, she saw her gaping wounds in her mind’s eye, terrified to think she’d been ignoring them as her life’s blood drained away.

  ‘That what happens to you?’ Renna asked when he returned. ‘Feel so alive you don’t even realize it’s killing you?’

  Arlen nodded. ‘Forget to breathe sometimes. Get so drunk on the power it feels like I shouldn’t need to do something so … mundane. Then I suddenly break out gasping for air. Almost got me cored more’n once.’

  He looked up, meeting her eyes. ‘The magic will trick you into thinking you’re immortal, Ren, but you ent. No one is, not even the corelings.’ He pointed at the field demon carcass beside her. ‘And the struggle never goes away. It’s a new fight, every time you taste the power.’

  Renna shuddered, thinking of the irresistible pull of the magic. ‘How do you keep from losing yourself?’

  Arlen chuckled. ‘Started keeping Renna Tanner around to remind me I’m just a dumb Bales from Tibbet’s Brook, and ent too good to breathe.’

  Renna smiled. ‘Then you got nothing to fear, Arlen Bales. You’re stuck with me.’

  Renna and the horses were well recovered by morning, but Arlen eased the pace, never taking Twilight Dancer above a trot, and stopping to rest twice before midday.

  ‘Thought we were in a rush,’ Renna said when they dismounted the second time.

  ‘Day or two don’t matter at this point,’ Arlen said.

  ‘That’s not how you felt yesterday,’ Renna said.

  Arlen looked away, and his shoulders sagged. ‘Had my priorities wrong, Ren. Sorry for that. Ent right to push you and the horses past your limits.’

  Renna took a deep breath. She hated the way he turned from her when saying things he didn’t think she’d like. Men were always doing that, thinking it spared feelings.

  And maybe it does, Renna thought. But only their own.

  ‘Don’t mean you got to baby us, either,’ she said.

  ‘You came an inch from dying last night, Ren,’ Arlen said. ‘Promise and Dancer, too. Ent no harm in stopping now and again to stretch our legs and have our necessaries.’

  He was right, but Renna didn’t feel like she’d been close to death. In truth, she felt stronger and more alive than ever in her life. There was new pink flesh where her wounds had been, lighter than her natural tan and needing fresh blackstem, but smooth without even hint of scar. Her body thrummed with power.

  Her eyes flicked to Promise, already knowing it was not the same. Arlen had used the same healing wards on the mare’s flank as he had on Renna, drawn in demon ichor thick with magic. Nothing remained of Promise’s wounds but a few strips of hairless flesh on her blotchy coat, but there was still a tenderness to the horse’s movements, and she showed little sign of her usual wilfulness.

  Renna looked up at the morning sun, and smiled. Power’s inside me now. And gettin’ stronger, more I eat. Ent gonna slow you down, Arlen Bales. Soon, you’ll need help to keep up with me.

  ‘Tell me about the Hollow, then,’ she said. ‘Everyone there think you’re the Deliverer, too?’

  Arlen sighed. ‘There most of all. Two years ago, Cutter’s Hollow was a town not even as big as Southwatch. But a flux hit last year, laying half of them low. Someone dropped a lamp in the inn, and fire spread quick, with no one to fight it. Wasn’t long before the wards failed.’

  Renna saw the disaster in her mind’s eye and ground her teeth. She found herself clutching at the bone handle of her knife, and it took the full force of her will to let go. ‘Trouble makes for trouble, my mam said.’

  ‘Honest word,’ Arlen said. ‘Came on them the next day, and found more’n a hundred dead, and half the rest on their backs. With night coming, I warded their axes and taught those that could to fight. Put the rest in the Holy House and made our stand out front. Lot of folk died that night, but they gave better than they got, and more than not were on their feet come dawn. Built the town back from scratch, putting the roads and houses in the shape of a forbidding. Ent no demon setting foot in the Hollow now, not even the princes.’

  Renna grunted. ‘Sounds like you made quite the Jongleur’s show of it. Figure you must want them thinkin’ you’re the Deliverer, at least a little.’

  Arlen’s face darkened. ‘Last thing I want anyone thinking. Waitin’ for the Deliverer’s kept us hiding behind wards for three hundred years.’

  ‘Ay, but the wait’s over, ent it?’ Renna said. ‘Painted Man’s come to save us all.’

  Arlen scowled, but Renna dismissed it with a wave. ‘Oh, you slap the fool out of any that bow to you and call you Deliverer, but you’re just as quick to temper when folk don’t take one look at you and start hopping to your words.’

  Arlen pulled back, stung, but Renna matched his stare and didn’t back down. Finally he gave a helpless chuckle and shrugged. ‘Can’t deny it helps get things done, Ren. And there’s a lot to do. Folk ent got any idea of what’s coming with the next new moon, and I ent got time to baby ’em.’

  Renna smiled. ‘Ent arguin’, just keepin’ you honest.’ Quick as a rabbit, she darted in and kissed his warded cheek.

  They rode for some time before splitting off from the Old Hill Road down a thickly overgrown Messenger way. Late in the day they met up with a new road of hard-packed dirt. There was a large warded campsite at the intersection.

>   ‘Huh.’ Arlen hopped down from Twilight Dancer, moving to inspect the wards. ‘Little clumsy, but thick and strong. Darsy Cutter painted these.’ He grunted. ‘Hollow must be growing like wildfire, they’re this far north already.’

  ‘Sun’s setting.’ Renna said loosening her knife in its sheath as magic began to seep into the lengthening shadows, opening the paths from the Core. ‘We should get moving.’

  Arlen shook his head, again not meeting her eyes. ‘We’re stopping here.’

  ‘Ent going to hide behind the wards every night over one close shave,’ Renna growled.

  ‘Ent asking you to,’ Arlen said.

  ‘Then we’re going,’ Renna said.

  ‘Going where?’ Arlen asked. ‘Right where we need to be.’ He went to the camp’s wood stores, then began laying kindling in the firepit. He did not meet her eyes, but there was a smugness about him, like this was a game.

  Anger flared in her, hot and fast, and out of the corner of her eye Renna saw the magic drifting in gentle whorls and eddies at her ankles suddenly flow into her like smoke from a pipe. As soon as she noticed it, the flow stopped and nothing she could do could will it back.

  She looked at Arlen, still laying a fire, proud as a cat with a mouse in its teeth, and grew angrier still. Magic came to him easy as breathing, but not to her? Why?

  Ent eaten enough. Still got a way to go.

  ‘Gonna hunt, then,’ she said.

  Arlen shrugged. ‘Won’t kill you to have some supper first.’

  Renna wanted to slap the back of his shaved head. Her fists clenched, nails digging into her skin, drawing blood. She wanted to rend …

  She caught herself. Magic pulsed through her, primal and powerful, awakening base desires and turning them into raging storms.

  Maybe I’ve eaten too much already.

  Renna breathed deeply, again and again in rhythm, the Krasian technique Arlen had taught during her sharusahk lessons. Slowly her fists began to unclench, and her heart stopped pounding in her chest, or at least slowed to a steady throb. She forced herself to dismount, brushing down Promise and letting her graze on the thick grass at the side of the road.