The Daylight War

25

333 AR Autumn

Third Night of New Moon

‘Oot! They come!’ Coliv called down.

An acrobat himself, Rojer knew a thing or two about balance, but even he was amazed at the ease with which the Krevakh Watcher had planted his twelve-foot-tall ladder on open ground and run straight up to the top rung without using his hands, standing motionless for long minutes as he scanned the horizon.

The two men were alone in the town square of New Rizon, amid the ruins that only a day ago had been a thriving town. Now it was a rotting corpse, almost every structure around the cobbled square smashed by hurled stones or blackened by fire. It was eerily silent.

They had spent the day piling wreckage to restore the greatward, but none had any illusions it would hold for more than a few minutes. They had prevented demons from rising directly in the town, but the corelings had begun dismantling the protection as soon as they solidified, and the Hollowers did not have the strength to prevent it.

And so they waited, Jongleur and Watcher, in the small portable circle Rojer had used all his life. No one liked the plan, least of all Rojer, though it had been his idea. When Amanvah had seen he would not be deterred she insisted that Coliv accompany him, though Rojer thought it would likely mean two deaths instead of one. Still, he could not deny a touch of comfort at the presence of the warrior.

The man tried to kill Arlen, Rojer reminded himself, but he could not bring himself to feel anger over it. Coliv had assumed command of the few remaining Sharum, and they followed Rojer and his wives everywhere. He had lost count of how many times the Watcher had saved his life the night before.

Rojer lifted his fiddle as the sounds of the demons reached his ears. They would need to come through New Rizon to strike at Cutter’s Hollow, and with most of the town destroyed, the easiest path was through the town square.

It was simple to use that fact to enhance his call. Come this way! his music told the corelings. It is quicker! It is easier! There is prey!

And indeed there was. Him.

The demons responded. Dozens at first, striking at his wards with flashes of magic. The number quickly swelled to hundreds, then thousands. They filled the square, and still his call went out, drawing them to him. Soon he and Coliv were lost in a sea of teeth and scales, unable to see anything else.

Corelings crawled over one another, fighting among themselves for the privilege of attacking his wards. But the worn portable circle had been well made, and it turned their attacks back on them, the field only growing stronger as more and more of them fed it with their magic.

But then the inevitable happened. The swirling mass of corelings parted to allow wood demons to advance, these carrying giant clubs made from the trunks of trees. It would be a simple matter for them to smash Rojer and Coliv to pulp and knock his circle out of alignment.

But Coliv was ready, producing a twisted ram’s horn, hollowed and polished. He put the horn to his lips and blew a long note.

At the sound, shutters slammed open around the square, archers appearing in the windows and atop the roofs of the ruined buildings. They did not hesitate, opening fire into the mass of corelings. The demons were packed so tightly it was impossible to miss, but a few of the most skilled marksmen were sure to put down the wood demons threatening Rojer. He saw one of Wonda’s unmistakable shafts appear in one of the demons’ eyes just before it fell.

Demons charged the doorways to the buildings, but they were doused in spray pumped from barrels on the floors above. A moment later torches followed, igniting the liquid demonfire and setting them ablaze.

Another horn sounded. ‘Now,’ Coliv said, never one to waste words. He set his ladder and climbed quickly, taking a weighted line and throwing it to a third-floor window.

Rojer stopped playing, shoving his fiddle into the bag of marvels slung over his shoulder. He ran up the ladder almost as nimbly as Coliv, grabbing onto the Watcher as he leapt. Men in the window pulled at the line as they tucked their legs and swung, feeling the puff of air as snatching talons just missed them.

They slammed into the blackened wall of the building, smashing some of the weakened wood, but Coliv was already climbing to the window, hauling Rojer who clung to his shoulders.

They escaped just in time as Count Thamos and Gared led a charge of heavy horse into the press. Rojer looked sadly at the spot where they had once stood, now trampled by hundreds of steel-shod hooves.

‘Gonna miss that circle,’ he said.

Renna paced back and forth, hating that she was forced to wait while battle was met. But as they had with Arlen, the demons knew her on sight now, and abandoned all other pursuits when she was beyond the wards.

The Hollowers were in full rout when they returned, running hard before a swarm of corelings. At least a third of the archers who had stationed themselves in the square did not return. Thamos’ cavalry appeared to have fared even worse, with many horses carrying two, and still hundreds missing. They gave cover to the footmen, but the horsemen, too, were fleeing, their spears mostly gone as they laid about with warded axe and hammer. Coliv had Rojer slung over his shoulder as he ran.

They flowed around Renna as she stood alone at the border, breathing deeply as she felt the magic pooled at her feet. When they were clear, she Drew.

Ignoring the lesser demons, Renna focused on the rocks, drawing heat and impact wards, targeting the gaps in their stony carapaces. She blasted shoulders and knees, less concerned with killing the demons than with crippling them and preventing them from hurling their deadly projectiles.

She lasted longer tonight, but quickly reached her limit, feeling dizzy as the magic burned at her from the inside.

Still the demons came on. She fell to one knee, bracing herself with a hand on the cobbles, and Drew again.

Leesha could feel her muscles knotting tighter the closer the sounds of battle came to the hospit of Cutter’s Hollow. There were too many wounded to move, and where would they move them if the Corelings’ Graveyard fell?

For now, the greatward was secure. Shaped by wide cobbled streets, thick low walls, and huge swathes of land, the ward would require hours of bombardment to weaken sufficiently for demons to gain access — and even then, there were wards on the hospit and other safe zones. It was unlikely the demons could destroy it all in a night.

But they don’t need to, she reminded herself. They just need to do more damage than we can repair in a month. Then as soon as the moon wanes again, they’ll come finish the job.

Outside she heard the explosions as the last of her flamework was used, and boulders fell like rain. Every crash was a stab of pain in her eye. The headaches had returned with a vengeance with the new moon, but there was nothing for it but to endure. She could not afford to take the strong drugs needed to counter them, and neither she nor Thamos was in any state to attempt the alternative solution.

Leesha was not used to feeling so helpless. She wanted desperately to be outside, helping in some way, but what could she hope to do? Her Gatherer’s art was already in play, the Cutters using the last of her flamework, acid, and sleeping draughts. She could risk herself helping wounded on the field, but to what end? They poured into her hospit at a steady rate, more than enough to fill the hands of all the Gatherers and apprentices.

She looked around the main hall, beds and the floor between filled with moans of pain, white bandages and red splotches. The most stable had been sent to the Holy House in Tender Hayes’ care, but the hospit was still at capacity.

Leesha caught Amanvah’s eye, and the young dama’ting nodded. Leesha knew she was no happier to be trapped inside, but her fighting hora had been depleted battling the mimic, and she and Sikvah were needed here. The Krasians healed differently than she had been taught, but Leesha could not deny their skill at treating battle wounds.

There was a shout and the door to the hospit slammed open, admitting Coliv. Leesha could see at a glance from the coloured silk that he was carrying Rojer. The Jongleur’s carrot hair was matted red with blood.

Leesha ran to him, but Amanvah got there first, cradling his head to inspect the damage as Coliv laid him down. Sikvah moved to bar the way.

‘I don’t have time for this demonshit, Sikvah,’ Leesha said, moving to shove the younger woman aside.

But Sikvah was faster, grabbing her arm and twisting it. Leesha found herself spun around and propelled away from them, barely managing to quickstep and keep her feet.

‘See to the others,’ Sikvah said in her heavily accented Thesan. ‘We will tend our husband.’

Leesha drew breath to argue, but just then the rest of the wounded reached the hospit, and it was all she and the other women could do to find space for them and triage.

The sounds of battle drew too close for comfort as they worked. The demons were at the border, which meant Renna Tanner was their last real line of defence. Leesha knew the woman would do her best, but it wasn’t yet midnight. Could she hold back the entire Core till dawn?

The hospit shook as something huge struck the ground out front.

Apparently not.

‘Creator,’ Leesha whispered too quietly for the others to hear, ‘I know you aid those who aid themselves, but we could really use a miracle.’

She didn’t expect an answer, but it came a moment later, as the entire building seemed to rock from side to side. The crash was deafening, and ceiling beams fell into the floor amid a cloud of dust and rubble.

‘Arlen!’ Leesha cried, for his room was on the second floor. She ran to the steps, putting a cloth over her mouth and nearly choking on the dust in any event.

The second floor was partially collapsed. A boulder had apparently passed clear through, shearing off part of the roof and taking out several walls. Leesha tried not to think of the patients who had been in those rooms, picking her way over the wreckage to the small private room where Arlen lay unconscious.

Her worst fears were realized as she moved through the hole where the door had been. Part of the ceiling was open to the night sky, and the space where the bed had been was a mass of rubble from a collapsed wall.

Leesha backed away from the sight until she struck one of the remaining walls. She slid down to the floor, shaking.

‘It’s over,’ she whispered. ‘We’re all going to die.’

But then the rubble shifted and began to rise. A fresh cloud of dust filled the room as beams lifted out of the mass and stones fell away. Arlen Bales was in the centre, his wards glowing brightly as he worked his hands under the beams across his knotted shoulders, pressing them up over his head long enough for him to step free.

Leesha stared at him as he approached, looking like a seraph of the Creator Himself. She was normally the first to deny Arlen was Heaven-sent, but even she found herself believing as he reached a glowing hand out to her.

‘Deliverer,’ she whispered, taking his hand and letting him pull her to her feet. He caught her as she stumbled, and for a moment they held each other close.

Arlen laid a gentle hand on her face. ‘Just me, Leesha. Arlen Bales.’

Leesha reached out, touching his face in return. ‘Sometimes it’s hard to tell.’

‘What’s happened?’ Arlen asked. ‘Last I remember I was destroying the demon’s ammunition piles …’

‘That was two days ago,’ Leesha said. ‘New Rizon is gone. The demons are at the edge of the Corelings’ Graveyard. Renna is holding them back.’

Arlen pulled back at the name. ‘Renna’s out there alone?’

And just like that, he collapsed into smoke, Leesha left holding empty air.

Arlen materialized in the Corelings’ Graveyard an instant later, immediately spotting Renna on her elbows and knees. The remaining Wooden Soldiers stood in a half circle around her, their indestructible shields locked together to block her from sight and bombardment as she struggled to rise.

But Arlen could see she would not be able to rise again. Her aura was flickering. She was seconds from passing out.

He was at her side immediately, not bothering to draw wards as he laid a hand on her shoulder. He reached through her into the greatward, feeling its power. The link that connected the net of Hollow County was gone, but the central keyward of Cutter’s Hollow was the strongest by far, more power than they could use and live to tell the tale.

He Drew, pulling magic through Renna steadily until her aura was restored and the blackstem wards on her skin began to glow of their own accord.

‘Arlen,’ she breathed, rising to her feet and throwing her arms around him, kissing him deeply.

Arlen held her face in both hands, meeting her eyes. ‘Promised I’d die before I let demons take the Hollow, Ren. You mean it when you said the same?’

Renna nodded. ‘Every word.’

Arlen kissed her again. He pulled back, taking her hand in a firm grip. ‘Then Draw with me.’ The two of them pulled at the greatward, flooding themselves with power.

‘Shields open!’ Arlen shouted, and the Wooden Soldiers broke apart, giving them a clear view of the enemy. As one, they raised their hands to trace wards in the air.

Leesha wept as dawn came and the sounds of crashing boulders, exploding flamework, and screams of pain fell away. The last notes of the Song of Waning, which Rojer’s Jongleurs had been playing constantly to keep the enemy at bay, ended as cramped and bleeding fingers finally released their instruments. There was silence for a moment, and then ragged cheering throughout the Hollow.

They had survived.

Some of us, Leesha amended, looking at the shrouded bodies lying all over the Corelings’ Graveyard. The battle hadn’t ended when Arlen and Renna collapsed. Reinforcements had come from the other boroughs when it was clear the demons were making a full press for the centre of the Hollow and battle had been joined directly. Arlen and Renna had destroyed most of the larger demons by then, and denied ammunition to the rest. It became an open melee, tooth and talon against warded steel, with Gared and Thamos leading assault after assault.

There were so many wounded she had been forced to begin laying them out in the square, and then on the streets. There was death everywhere, but she had neither the time nor the help to move the bodies, and they were left where they lay. Thousands of dead and wounded mixed together. Even those on their feet looked half dead. No one had slept in days.

She looked sadly at the Holy House where they had made their last stand in the Battle of Cutter’s Hollow, its roof now caved by several boulder strikes. Perhaps it was well after all that Inquisitor Hayes was building his cathedral to replace it. New Rizon had been nearly levelled, as well as the now ironically named Sweet Succour, but the defences had held in the other boroughs.

Horns and flamework had signalled Thamos and his mounted soldiers through the night, sending them along the border as the demons probed for weak spots and tried to break the greatward. Rojer’s Jongleurs drove back the demons and confused them as the Cutters struck, and Coliv and the remaining Sharum were found wherever the fighting was thickest.

She went to her office in the hospit to check on Rojer. He lay propped up on her desk, his head wrapped in bandages as Amanvah and Sikvah took it in turns talking to him and asking questions, trying to keep him awake and alert. Amanvah had used the last of her hora to close the wound, but he had still taken a heavy blow to the head, and if he passed out, there was still a chance he might not awaken.

‘How is he?’ she asked.

‘He will recover,’ Amanvah said. ‘The dice tell me Everam still has need of him.’

Leesha nodded. ‘He needs us all.’

‘My people think the chin weak,’ Amanvah said, ‘but my father spoke of the Hollow tribe’s strength. In this, as in all things, he was right. Your people have honoured the Creator this Waning. You will rise stronger than ever.’

Leesha shook her head. ‘We can’t keep taking losses like this. We’ll need to deepen and strengthen our greatwards, and get people off the streets on Waning. Dig basements, tunnels, sewers …’

‘You must build an Undercity,’ Amanvah said.

‘Good start,’ a voice said behind her, ‘but it won’t be enough.’

Leesha turned, and her eyes widened. ‘Arlen!’ she cried, throwing her arms around him before she could help herself. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing, and for the first time in days, she felt a touch of hope. ‘Thank the Creator you’re all right. We won’t survive another new moon without you.’

Arlen looked at her sadly. ‘May have to. I’m why the minds have come. It’s all my fault.’

‘That’s not-’ Leesha began.

‘Demons were in my head, Leesha,’ Arlen cut her off. ‘Heard their plans — and worse, they heard mine. Know everything I do, including my plans for Jardir, and for taking the offensive against them. Everything I’ve been devising, made worthless in an instant.’

He looked up, meeting Amanvah’s eyes. ‘Need to do something they won’t expect.’