‘Name’s Yon Gray,’ Arlen said, ‘and he’s the oldest man in the Hollow. Hair was stark white a year ago. Needed a stick to even walk crooked, and his hands shook.’
‘Honest word?’ Renna asked.
Arlen nodded, pointing again, this time to a huge man in the prime of his life, charging in behind the demon while Yon kept its attention. ‘Linder Cutter. Ent no more’n fifteen years old.’
One of the wood demons struck one of the huge men a backhand blow that lifted him from the ground and threw him back several feet. He landed with a heavy thump, his axe mattock flying from his grasp. Renna saw no blood, but the prone man had no time to rise as the demon charged.
Her knife was in her hand in an instant, but Arlen took hold of her shoulder as she started to move. She snapped a glare at him, but he only inclined his head back at the scene. Renna looked and saw an enormous wolfhound leap on the demon’s back, bearing it down as the dog’s huge jaws tore loose a chunk of the demon’s rough, knobbed armour, sinking into the soft flesh beneath.
The man had recovered by then, and buried his mattock in the coreling’s skull with a wet thwack. The dog looked up at him with its muzzle wet with black demon ichor, glowing bright with magic to Renna’s warded eyes. It was the biggest dog Renna had ever seen, five hundred pounds at least, with gnarled charcoal fur and claws so great they couldn’t fully retract. It growled at the Cutter, but he only laughed and gave it a scratch behind the ears. He whistled as he ran back into battle, and the dog licked the ichor from its teeth and followed.
‘Creator,’ Renna said. ‘It’s as big as a nightwolf.’
‘Didn’t used to be,’ Arlen said, ‘but it’s been eating demon. Corespawned dog’s bigger every time I see it.’
‘That how nightwolves grew so big in the first place?’ Renna asked.
‘Reckon,’ Arlen said.
An eight-foot-tall wood demon got past the Cutters in the heat of battle and came at the Wooden Soldiers. The men shrieked, forgetting their spears entirely to lock their warded shields together. They were pushed back by the rebound as the wards flared, stumbling into the women they were supposed to be guarding. One soldier lost his feet completely, taking down two women with loaded crank bows in the tumble. Another soldier screamed as one of the bows went off and the bolt took him in the back of the thigh, punching right through his lacquered armour.
The wood demon had barely lost balance when the attack was deflected, and moved for the gap with frightening speed.
Prince Thamos gave a shout, throwing off his fear as he leapt to interpose himself. With one swipe of his arm, he caught the demon’s claws with his shield, sending them skittering off trailing sparks of magic as he followed through with a thrust of his short, stabbing spear into the demon’s belly. Renna could see the magic that pumped up the weapon into the prince’s arm, filling him with power.
It was a masterfully executed attack, but Thamos’ blow had struck no vital area, and after a shocked instant the demon recovered and swung its branchlike arms at him again. Thamos ducked the first blow and caught the next on his shield, never letting go of his spear as he tried vainly to pull it free of the demon’s thick, barklike armour. The piercing wards on the speartip had broken through easily enough, but there was nothing to aid him pulling it back out.
‘Bad warding for such a nice spear,’ Arlen noted. ‘He’s smart, he’ll let go and let the women handle it.’ Indeed, several women held crank bows at the ready, and would have fired had the prince not been in their way.
But Thamos surprised them. He gave a roar and, still holding on to the shaft of the spear, raised his armoured boot and kicked repeatedly at the coreling’s midsection. Impact wards flared on his boot heel, and the demon was bashed and battered as the prince hammered it off his spear and knocked it onto its back. He was on it in an instant, stabbing his newly freed spear right into the coreling’s heart.
The prince put a foot on the demon’s chest for leverage as he tore the weapon free in a spray of ichor, turning with a shout to assist a pair of Cutters in their own battle. He growled as he put his spear into the back of the demon they faced, pressing in so close the wards on his armour flared.
The frightened man Renna had seen was gone, the prince screaming like a madman as he ran about the clearing, fighting with abandon and little regard for his own safety.
There was a shriek, and Renna turned to see a wood demon bury its talons into a Cutter’s chest. The man knocked the demon back a step with a weak blow from his axe, but the weapon fell from his fingers as he collapsed to the ground.
Renna tensed, but Arlen was already off and running. She followed on swift feet, but neither of them would be there in time as the demon moved in for the kill.
She saw a sudden blur and felt a familiar dizziness as a slender girl appeared, throwing back the folds of a warded cloak much like the one Renna wore. The girl was clad in bright motley – loose pantaloons and blouse, with a tight fitted vest. She was half the size of the Cutter who had fallen, and when she stepped in front of the great wood demon, it was like a house cat hissing at a nightwolf. Still, she stood boldly, meeting the demon’s gaze, and when it reached its claws for her, she raised a fiddle and put bow to string, sending out a series of discordant sounds.
The demon shrieked and swiped at her, but the girl leapt away, tumbling across the ground and coming back to her feet, never ceasing her playing. The demon put its clawed hands to its ears and shrieked again, stumbling back.
Another dizzying blur, and a large woman appeared behind the demon, unnoticed until she swung a heavy warded blade, severing one of its thin arms. The wound, coupled with the grating sounds of the fiddle, proved too much for the demon and it fled the scene, coming right at Arlen and Renna. Arlen barely paused, catching the coreling by one of its horns and pulling it close as he drew a heat ward on its chest. He spun the demon aside, and it blazed into a ball of bright shrieking flames as he rushed to the wounded Cutter.
Both women’s eyes flared at the sight of Arlen running their way, recognition mixed with shock and more than a little fear. The one who had severed the demon’s arm shook her surprise away first.
‘’Bout time you got back,’ she said, kneeling at the injured man’s side and pulling implements from a heavy pocketed apron to treat his wounds. The young girl continued to stare openmouthed at Arlen.
Arlen’s mouth twisted. ‘Good to see you again too, Darsy.’ He looked to the girl. ‘Mind on your music, Kendall.’ He pointed his chin at her fiddle before kneeling beside the Herb Gatherer. Kendall straightened, bringing up her fiddle and scanning the area for other threats.
The Cutter gave a racking cough, blood splattering Arlen’s face, and fell still. Arlen paid it no mind, holding the man steady as Darsy examined his wounds.
‘Night,’ she whispered. Three deep gashes ran from his breast to hip, and there was blood everywhere. ‘Ent nothing we can do.’
‘Demonshit,’ Arlen said, grabbing the first gash and pinching it closed with one hand as he drew a series of wards in the air with the other. A soft glow surrounded them as he worked, Darsy and girl staring dumbfounded as the fatal wounds knitted closed.
The man suddenly pulled in a deep gasp of air, followed by a round of coughing as he attempted to rise. Arlen put a hand on his chest and held him back down. He opened his eyes, looking up at Arlen. ‘You come back,’ he croaked.