The Core Page 6

  She set down her cup. “Amanvah, let us discuss tonight’s service.”

  —

  Elona was pacing the hall outside when the meeting ended, but she wasn’t waiting for Erny. Her eyes, and her aura, remained fixed on Gared as she gave her husband a peck on the cheek and sent him on down the hall with a shove.

  None of the councilors noticed Elona’s fixation, not even Hayes with his warded eyes. All were simply grateful she was not focused on them, and hurried past. But Gared lingered, talking with Arther and Gamon. When Elona entered the room, the two men scampered away as quickly as their dignity would allow. By the time Gared saw her, Elona had closed the door and he was trapped.

  Elona turned to Leesha, who saw the same frightened urge to flee ripple through her own aura. She liked to think she had better control of her mother, but auras didn’t lie.

  “Bit of privacy, dear?” Elona’s voice held a dangerous edge. Gared looked at Leesha in panic.

  “Sorry, Gar, this is overdue. You and my mother have things to discuss.”

  Leesha turned and Wonda opened the door to the royal entrance. The two of them swept through, closing the heavy door behind them.

  “That’ll be all for now, Wonda,” Leesha said.

  “Mistress?” Wonda asked.

  “I may need to step back into this,” Leesha said. “Do you want to be anywhere near it when I do?”

  The panic rushed through Wonda’s aura now. Night, was there anyone in all the world not terrified of Elona? “No, mistress.”

  “Off you go, then,” Leesha said. “Run and find Rosal. Ask her to fetch her promised from the council room.” Relief flooded Wonda’s aura as she turned and sprinted down the hall.

  Since returning to the Hollow, Leesha had forgone wearing the pocketed apron of an Herb Gatherer. Araine had told her it was not dignified or proper for a countess, and much as Leesha resented it, the woman was right.

  But neither was it dignified or proper for Leesha to hide who she was. She had everyone address her as mistress, and her gowns were covered in stylish pockets, filled with herbs and warded items.

  She selected a delicate warded silver ball dangling from the end of a fine silver chain. She set the ball into one ear, pulling the chain over and behind her ear to hold it in place. Inside the ball was a broken piece of demon bone. Leesha had left its twin on her throne, and through it she could hear everything occurring in the council room.

  “Been avoiding me, boy,” Elona said, but it wasn’t the snappish tone she took with others. This was the purr of a cat sleeping atop the mousehole.

  “Just been busy,” Gared said.

  “Ay, you were always busy,” Elona agreed. “Until you had a stiff tree in your pants, and then you were at my door, beggin’ like a wolfhound.”

  “Ent gonna do that anymore.” Gared’s words sounded more a plea than an order. “Promised Leesha and swore by the sun.”

  “Easy to make an oath like that,” Elona said. “Lot harder to keep it—believe me. Easy now, with that Angierian skink draining your seedpods night and day. Always like that at first. Think you’ll never need another woman. But she’ll tire of the chore, and untie your breeches less and less. Then one day, when your pods are fit to burst, you’ll come looking for me, knowin’ I’ll take you leaves-to-root and use tricks that young debutante of yours never heard of.”

  Gared gasped. Was she touching him?

  “What do you think, boy?” Elona asked. “She empty you like I can?”

  “W-we ent…” Gared stuttered, “done that yet.”

  “Must be backed up to your eyeballs!” Elona laughed, and it sounded triumphant. “What say I do your young promised a favor and skim some off the top for old times’ sake?”

  There was a sound of stumbling and shifting furniture.

  Elona laughed. “Want me under the table, ay? Let me take care of you in secret while folk buzz about?”

  More shifting furniture. “Ent happenin’ again, Mrs. Paper,” Gared growled. “Deliverer said I could be a better man, and I aim to.”

  “You’re bein’ an idiot, boy,” Elona snapped. “You can do better than that girl.”

  “Ya don’t even know her!” Gared said.

  “Had enough tea with that simpering girl and her idiot mum to drown a water demon,” Elona said. “She’s got nothing to offer now that my daughter’s single again.”

  Night, Mother! Leesha thought. Still?!

  But Gared surprised her. “Don’t want Leesha. Shined on her, I know, but that wern’t ever gonna work.”

  Honest word, Leesha agreed.

  “It’s not just Leesha, you idiot,” Elona snapped. “You marry her, you could be Duke of the Hollow. Night, one day you might be king of Thesa!”

  Her voice turned back to a purr. “Now that she’s had a few spears, she’s ready for a real tree. And when she’s not climbing it, I’ll keep the fruit plucked.”

  “W-what about Erny?” Gared squeaked.

  “Pfagh,” Elona said. “He’ll hide in the closet and pull at himself until you’re gone, like always.”

  Leesha had enough, slipping off the warded earpiece and opening the door. Gared was using the council table like a shield, frozen as a deer on the far side.

  “Creator be praised.” Gared hurried over. Leesha wanted to laugh at the sight of Gared Cutter, seven feet of pure muscle, cowering behind her.

  “Fine, keep it in your pants!” Elona growled. “That don’t change what it’s left behind!”

  “Ay, what’s that supposed to mean?” Gared asked over Leesha’s shoulder.

  “It means I’ve got your babe in my belly, woodbrain,” Elona snapped.

  “What?!” Gared demanded. “Just thought you put on a few pounds.”

  It was the worst thing he could have said. Elona’s aura went red, her eyes bulging.

  But then the council room door opened and Rosal stepped in.

  “Night!” Elona threw up her hands. “Does everyone in this ripping keep have an ear to the door?”

  Rosal smiled. “I was just looking for Gared.” She threw him a wink. “He’s got paperwork to do.”

  Gared looked pale as Rosal looked back to Elona. “It’s not as if this is news to me. Gared has tells whenever your name is mentioned.”

  “I do?” Gared asked.

  Rosal’s eyes flicked over, holding his. “You’re not in trouble for anything past, so be smart and keep quiet now. I’ll handle this.”

  Gared blew out a breath. “Ay, dear.”

  Elona put her hands on her hips, fixed on Rosal now. “Smarter’n I gave you credit for, girl.”

  Rosal gave a mocking curtsy. “I know you’re something special here in the Hollow, Lady Paper, but I went to school with dozens like you. I don’t mind that you broke Gared in, but on our wedding night I’m going to do things that will make him forget all about your bumpkin wife’s tricks.”

  Elona’s hand darted out, reaching for Rosal’s long, thick hair, but Rosal was ready for it, slapping the hand aside and stepping out of reach. She had a dancer’s balance, and Leesha knew she could strike back if she wished.

  But Rosal kept control. Her voice was quiet, smile still in place. “He’s not yours anymore.”

  “Core he ent,” Elona said. “Got his brat in me.”

  “You’ve got a child in you,” Rosal agreed. “But is it Gared’s? Who can say? You’re a married woman.”

  “And when the babe don’t look like Erny?” Elona asked.

  Rosal shrugged. “I doubt any will be surprised. You have quite the reputation. ‘What’s Lady Paper done now?’ is a drinking game among the servants, did you know?”

  Elona’s aura darkened again, but she stood frozen.

  “But…what if it really is mine?” Gared squeaked. All eyes turned to him.

  “Told the Deliverer I’d be a better man,” Gared said, his voice slowly gaining strength. “Ent lookin’ for scandal, but I ent any kind of man, I can’t stand by my babe.”

&
nbsp; Rosal went over to him. He flinched as she reached for him, but she only laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Of course not, my love. I would never ask that of you. But there are many ways to stand by the child, if we learn it’s yours.”

  “Ay?” Gared asked.

  “By the time the babe comes, we’ll be married,” Rosal said. “And our marriage contract will put our issue first in your succession. After that, you’re free to claim the child if you wish.”

  She put a hand on his face. “But you may find it easier for all to simply visit often and shower the child with gifts.”

  Elona crossed her arms. “And if I start the scandal, myself?”

  “You won’t,” Rosal said. “Not without proof, and likely not even then. You’re not as smart as you think you are, Lady Paper, but you’re smarter than that. You have more to lose than Gared.”

  Leesha spoke up at last. “I can call Amanvah if you wish, Mother. With a drop of your blood and a throw of her dice, she can give you proof. We can settle this all here and now.”

  “You, too, girl?” Elona spat on the rug, turning on a heel to storm from the room.

  Gared let out a groan, and Rosal patted his arm. “Breathe, love. You did well. We haven’t heard the last of this, but the worst is over. You just keep your distance and leave Elona to me.”

  She turned to him, catching his eyes and holding them with her own. “And come our wedding day, you’ll never want her to climb your tree again.”

  “Don’t want it now,” Gared said.

  Rosal caught his beard, pulling his face down for a peck on the cheek. “Smart boy.”

  Gared put his hand over hers. “Thought ya’d never understand, ya knew what I done.”

  Rosal smiled. “Past is past, we agreed. Yours and mine.”

  She looked to Leesha. “Thank you, mistress.”

  “Ay, Leesh,” Gared said. “Came in like the Deliverer just then.”

  “Hardly,” Leesha said.

  “Demonshit,” Gared said. “Ent the first time. Yu’ve always been there when folk need ya most, Leesh. You an’ Rojer an’ Arlen Bales. Came to the Hollow together when we were beaten, and turned it around. Ent no one whose life ent changed by ya.”

  “Now Arlen is gone,” Leesha said. “And Rojer. People are going to realize I’m no Deliverer when they see the foolish choices I’ve made.”

  “Ent gonna see any such thing.” Gared waved an arm dismissively. “Broken folk come to the Hollow, lookin’ for the Deliverer, but the first thing they see is Leesha Paper, takin’ care of ’em.”

  Leesha shook her head. “You’re the first thing they see, Gar.”

  “Ay, on the road, maybe,” Gared agreed. “Cutters make ’em feel safe, but safe don’t give them a place to sleep and a full belly. Safe don’t heal the cored. Safe don’t put clothes on their backs and put ’em right back to work. Don’t give ’em a new life before losing the old one even has time to set in. You do that, Leesh. Time ya stopped bein’ so guilty about it.”

  “Guilty?” Leesha asked.

  “That yur alive and Rojer ent,” Gared said. “That ya had to kill those Krasians came to murder the duke. Poisoned them Sharum last summer so they couldn’t turn on us. Stuck the demon of the desert. Ya done what ya done to help people, every time. Wern’t selfish, or evil. Quit tellin’ yurself otherwise.”

  Leesha looked at Gared, trying to peel back the years to their childhood romance, or the young man she had hated for so many years. The man who had ruined her reputation and arguably her life. The man in front of her was both those men, and neither. The mistakes of youth had cast both of them onto new paths.

  Those paths had been difficult, but they’d led inexorably to them becoming the most powerful people in Hollow County.

  And somewhere along the way, he had become like a brother to her. He was a woodbrained oaf even now, but he was a good man, and she loved him still. Leesha reached out, taking Gared’s and Rosal’s hands in hers. “I am truly happy for the two of you.”

  CHAPTER 4

  RAGEN AND ELISSA

  334 AR

  “Night.” Ragen pulled up short as the thick woods to either side of the warded Messenger road ended abruptly. It was nearing dusk, but there was light still. “We passed through less than a year ago, and this was miles of woodland.”

  “Cutters’ axes swing day and night,” Briar said. The boy was on foot, somehow keeping pace with the horses.

  Even atop his saddle, Ragen could smell Briar. Elissa had him bathing now, but all the hogroot the boy ate had gotten into his sweat. The scent protected him from demons at night, but it made him stand out to everyone else.

  “They didn’t just clear the land,” Elissa said. “There are entire towns that weren’t there before.”

  “Greatwards, too,” Briar said. “Cories can’t touch the Hollow.”

  “Creator be praised.” Elissa blew out a breath. “I set out from Miln to have a taste for once of the naked night. Now I’ve had my fill. I’m ready for walls, a bath, and a feathered bed.”

  “Walls make you soft,” Briar said. “Forget what’s out there.”

  “I daresay I’ll have no trouble remembering,” Ragen said. They had been making their way out of Lakton for weeks via ill-used Messenger ways. Ragen had maps, but since the great Messenger road was built, many of the old trails had been reclaimed by the wetlands.

  But the road was too dangerous. After the Battle of Docktown, the Krasians sent an army to take the Monastery of Dawn. The monastery was the most defensible spot Ragen had ever seen short of Lakton itself. He and Shepherd Alin had thought to hold out for weeks, but even those great walls were no match for Krasian laddermen. There was hand-fighting on the walls the first day, and they had been forced to flee to the docks.

  Krasian privateers harried them for miles, but could not keep pace with Captain Dehlia and the Sharum’s Lament. They lost sight of the pursuers long enough to send boats out to a tiny fishing village to the north where they could begin the trek back to Miln.

  The Krasians were conquering every village near the Messenger road, so Ragen had taken his charges overland, through out-of-the-way hamlets and along trails that were little more than dim memories of a path. They made valuable contacts along the way, and sent Euchor reports whenever possible, though Creator knew if any of them made it to him.

  Ragen shook his head as they approached the first greatward. “I remember when Cutter’s Hollow was a hamlet with less than three hundred people. Now it’s home to a hundred thousand, by some estimates.”

  “All because of Arlen,” Elissa said.

  “You really knew him?” Briar asked. “Warded Man?”

  “Knew him?” Ragen laughed. “We practically raised him. Like a son to us.” Briar looked up at him, and Ragen reached down, squeezing the boy’s shoulder. Briar tended to flinch at intimate contact, but this he allowed, even leaning into it a bit. “Like you’ve become, Briar.”

  “In another life, you might have called him brother.” Elissa choked on the words. “But now Arlen is gone.”

  “Ent,” Briar said.

  “What’s that, boy?” Ragen asked.

  “Folk saw him,” Briar said. “When Krasians first came. He was on the road, helping.”

  “There were rumors,” Elissa said.

  Ragen reached over to take her hand. “People tell ale stories, Briar.”

  Briar shook his head. “Different folk, different places, same story. Drew wards in the air and cories burst into flame.”

  “Do you think…” Elissa asked.

  “Wouldn’t surprise me,” Ragen said, though he hadn’t dared believe it himself. “Boy’s too stubborn to die.”

  Elissa laughed, sniffling.

  She looked up suddenly. “Do you hear singing?”

  —

  “There.” Ragen had the distance lens to his eye, whatever he saw lost in the gloom to Elissa.

  “What is it?” Elissa asked.

  Ragen passed Elissa th
e lens. “Looks like a funeral procession.”

  In the lens, Elissa could see a fiddle-playing Jongleur, flanked by two singing Krasian women in bright, colorful robes. Behind the Krasian women were a Tender and a finely dressed woman, followed by their attendants and six Cutters bearing a wooden litter on their wide shoulders.

  Hundreds followed in their wake, voices joined in song. They were led by a bright patchwork troupe of Jongleurs.

  “The Jongleur at the lead,” Elissa said, moving the lens back to the front. “Might that be Arlen’s friend? The fiddle wizard, Rojer Halfgrip?”

  “Not unless Arlen didn’t notice that Halfgrip is a woman with two hands,” Ragen said. Elissa looked closer and saw he was right. The three in front were all women.

  Elissa studied the women. Their music was eerily clear, carried on the night air as if by magic. “Why would a funeral procession be heading to the edge of the greatwards?”

  “Kill seven cories,” Briar said.

  Elissa looked at him. “Whatever for?”

  “It’s a Krasian ritual,” Ragen said. “They believe killing seven demons—one for each pillar of Heaven—honors and guides a departing spirit down the lonely path.”

  “The lonely path?” Elissa asked.

  “Path that leads to the Creator.” Briar’s voice tightened. “And His judgment.”

  They stepped off the road as the procession reached them, blending into the crowd as it passed. The Mistress of the Hollow held a rod in her hand that looked to be a slender bone covered in gold plate, etched with wards. As they went, she used it to draw light wards that hung in the air like silver script. Then she gave a flick of her wrist and they shot high into the sky and burst into brilliance, hanging in the air to illuminate the procession.

  “Ragen,” Elissa said quietly.

  “I see.” Ragen had heard of the demon bone magic of the Krasians, but didn’t truly understand it until now. If demon bones held magic after the coreling died, it meant any skilled Warder could do what the mistress just did.

  And few in Miln were as skilled as the Warders’ Guildmaster and his wife.

  The procession stopped at a great clearing, and the trio at the lead left the road, going to stand at its center. They changed their song, and demons appeared at the outskirts, drawn to the sound. Elissa gripped Ragen’s arm with sharp fingernails, but neither of them could utter a word.