frustration, accepting the stinging burn of the magic in hopes of powering their way through. Again and again they were thrown back. Arlen ceased to flinch. He began to scream curses at them, shoving his terror aside.

His defiance only enraged the demons further, unused to being taunted by their prey. They doubled their efforts to penetrate the wards as Arlen shook his fists and made rude gestures he had seen the adults in Tibbet's Brook make to Hog's back sometimes.

This was what he feared? This was what humanity lived in terror of? These pathetic, frustrated beasts? Ridiculous. He spat, and it sizzled on a flame demon's scales, trebling its fury.

There was a hush from the howling creatures then. In the flickering light of the flame demons, he saw the coreling host part, clearing a path for a rock demon that stomped towards him, its footsteps like an earthquake.

All his life, Arlen had watched corelings from afar, from behind windows and doors. Before the terrifying events of the last few days, he had never been outside in the air with a fully formed demon, and had certainly never stood his ground. He knew their size could vary, but he had never appreciated just how much. The rock demon that approached was fifteen feet tall. The rock demon was enormous.

Arlen craned his head upward as the monster approached. Even at a distance, it was a towering, hulking mass of sinew and sharp edges. Its thick black carapace was knobbed with bony protrusions, and its spiked tail slid back and forth, balancing its massive shoulders. It stood hunched on two clawed feet that dug great grooves in the ground with every thunderous step. Its long, gnarled arms ended in talons the size of butchering knives, and its drooling maw split wide to reveal row after row of bladelike teeth. A black tongue slipped out, tasting Arlen's fear.

One of the flame demons failed to move from its path quickly enough, and the rock demon swiped at it in an offhanded manner,

its talons tearing great gashes as the blow launched the smaller coreling through the air.

Terrified, Arlen took a step back, and then another, as the giant coreling approached. It was only at the last moment that he came to his senses and stopped before he retreated right out of the protective circle.

Remembering the circle gave fleeting comfort. Arlen doubted his wards were strong enough for this test. He doubted any wards were.

The demon regarded him for a long moment, savouring his terror. Rock demons seldom hurried, though when they chose to, they could move with astonishing speed.

As the demon struck, Arlen's nerve broke. He screamed and fell to the ground, curling up in a tight ball, covering his head with his arms.

The resulting explosion was deafening. Even through his covered eyes, Arlen saw the bright flash of magic, as if night had become day. He heard the demon's shriek of frustration, and peeked out as the coreling whirled, smashing its heavy, horned tail against the wards.

Again, the magic flared, and again, the creature was thwarted.

Arlen forced himself to let go the breath he had been holding. He watched as the demon struck his wards again and again, screaming in rage. A warm dampness clung to his thighs.

He picked up a stone and threw it at the demon. 'Go back to the Core where you belong!' he cried. 'Go back and die!'

Ashamed of himself, of his cowardice, Arlen came to his feet and met the demon's eyes. He screamed, a primal cry from deep within him that rejected everything the coreling was and everything it represented.

The demon barely seemed to feel the stone bounce off its armour, but its rage multiplied as it tore at the wards, unable to get through. Arlen called the demon every foul and pathetic thing in his somewhat limited vocabulary, clawing at the ground for anything he could throw.

When he ran out of stones, he began jumping up and down, waving his arms, screaming his defiance.

Then he slipped, and stepped on a ward.

Time seemed to freeze in the long, silent moment shared by Arlen and the giant demon, the enormity of what had just happened slowly dawning on them. When they moved, they moved as one, Arlen whipping out his etching stick and diving for the ward even as the demon swiped a massive, clawed hand at him.

His mind racing, Arlen assessed the damage in an instant, a single line of the sigil was marred. Even as he repaired the ward with a slash of the tool, he knew he was too late. The claws had begun to cut into his flesh.

But then the magic took effect once more, and the demon was hurled back, screaming in agony. Arlen, too, screamed in pain, rolling over and pulling the claws from his back; hurling them away before he could realize what had happened.

He saw it then, lying in the circle, twitching and smoking: the demon's arm.

Arlen looked at the severed limb in shock, turning to see the demon roaring and thrashing about, savaging any demon foolish enough to come within its reach; savaging with one arm.

He looked at the arm, its end neatly severed and cauterized, oozing a foul smoke. With more bravery than he felt, Arlen picked the massive thing up and tried to hurl it from the circle, but the wards made a two-way barrier. The stuff of corelings could no more pass out than in. The arm bounced off the wards and landed back at Arlen's feet.

Then the pain set in. Arlen touched the wounds along his back, and his hands came away wet with blood. Sickened, his strength ebbed and he fell to his knees, weeping for the pain, weeping for fear of moving and scuffing another ward, and weeping, most of all, for his mam. He understood now the pain she had felt that night.

Arlen spent the rest of the night cowering in fright. He could hear the demons circling, waiting, hoping for an error that would allow them access. Even if sleep had been possible, he would not have dared attempt it, lest a shift in his slumber grant the corelings their wish.

Dawn seemed to take years to come. Arlen looked up at the sky often that night, but each time he saw only the giant, crippled rock demon, clutching its caked and ichorous wound as it stalked the circle, hatred in its eyes.

After an eternity, a hint of red tinged the horizon, followed by orange, yellow, and then a glorious white. The other corelings slipped back down to the Core before the yellow touched the sky, but the giant waited until the last, its rows of teeth bared as it hissed at him.

But even the one-armed rock demon's hatred was no match for its fear of the sun. As the last shadows scurried away, its massive horned head sank beneath the ground. Arlen straightened and stepped from the circle, wincing in pain. His back was on fire. The wounds had stopped bleeding in the night, but he felt them tear open once more as he stretched.

The thought led his eyes back to the clawed forearm lying next to him. It was like a tree trunk, covered in hard, cold plates. Arlen picked the heavy thing up and held it before him.

Got a trophy, at least, he thought, making an effort to be brave even though the sight of his blood on the black talons sent a shudder through him.

Just then, a ray of light reached him, the sun finally more above the horizon than below. The demon's limb began to sizzle and smoke, popping like a wet log thrown on a fire. In a moment, it burst into flame, and Arlen dropped it in fright. He watched, fascinated, as it flared brighter and brighter, the sun's light bearing down upon it until there was naught left but a thin, charred remain. He stepped over and gingerly nudged it with his toe, collapsing it into dust.

         

Arlen found a branch to use as a walking stick as he trudged on. He understood how lucky he was. And how stupid. Soil wards were untrustworthy. Even Ragen said that. What would he have done if the wind had marred them, as his father threatened?

Creator, what if it had rained?

How many nights could he survive? Arlen had no idea what lay over the next hill, no reason to think that there was anyone between here and the Free Cities, which, by all accounts, were weeks away.

He felt tears welling in his eyes. Brutally, he wiped them off, growling in defiance. Giving in to fear was his father's solution to problems, and Arlen already knew it didn't work.

'I'm not afraid!' he cried out to the sunlit world. 'I'm not!'

Arlen pressed on, knowing the lie for what it was.

Around midday, he came to a rocky stream. The water was cold and clear, and he bent to drink. The move sent lances of pain through his back.

He had done nothing for the wounds. It wasn't as if he could stitch them closed as Coline might. He thought of his mother, and how when he would come home with cuts or scrapes, the first thing she did was wash them out.

He stripped off his shirt, finding the back torn and soaked through with blood, now crusted and hard. He dunked the shirt and watched as soil and blood washed downstream. He laid his clothes out on the rocks to dry, and lowered himself into the cold water.

The chill made him wince, but it soon numbed the pain in his back. He scrubbed as best he could, gently washing out the stinging wounds until he could stand it no more. Shivering, he climbed from the stream and lay on the rocks by his clothes.

He awoke some time later with a start. Cursing, he saw that the sun had moved far across the sky, and that the day was nearly done. He could travel a little further, but he knew the risk would be a foolish one. Better to spend the extra time on his defences.

Not far from the stream was a wide area of moist soil, and the sod pulled free easily, clearing him a space. He tamped down the loose dirt, smoothed it, and set to warding. He drew a wider circle this time, and then, after checking it thrice, drew another concentric ring within the first for added safety. The moist earth would resist the wind, and the sky showed no threat of rain.

Satisfied, Arlen dug a pit and gathered dry twigs, building a small fire. He sat in the centre of the inner circle as the sun dipped, trying to ignore his hunger. He doused the fire as the red sky grew lavender, then purple, breathing deeply to steady his pounding heart. At last, the light vanished and the corelings rose.

Arlen held his breath, waiting. Finally, a flame demon caught his scent, and raced at him with a shriek. In that moment, the terror of the previous night came rushing back to him, and Arlen felt his blood go cold.

The corelings were oblivious to his wards until they were upon them. With the first flare of magic, Arlen breathed his relief. The demons clawed at the barrier, but they could not pass.

A wind demon, flying up high where the wards were weak, passed the first ring, but it smashed into the second as it swooped down at him, landing hard in the space between. Arlen struggled to maintain his calm as it lurched to its feet.

It was bipedal, with a long, thin body, and spindly limbs that ended in six-inch hooked claws. The undersides of its arms and the outsides of its legs were webbed with a thin, leathery membrane, supported by flexible bones jutting from the creature's sides. Barely taller than an adult man, the demon's spread wings spanned twice its height, making it seem huge in the sky. A curving horn grew from its head, bent back and webbed like its limbs to form a ridge down its back. Its long snout held rows of inch long teeth, yellow in the moonlight.

The coreling moved clumsily on land, despite its graceful mastery of the air. Up close, the wind demons were not nearly as impressive as their cousins. Wood and rock demons had impenetrable armour and otherworldly strength to power their thick claws. Flame demons were faster than any man, and spat fire that could set anything alight. Wind demons... Arlen thought Ragen could puncture one of those thin wings with a hard stab of his spear, crippling it.

Night, he thought, I'm pretty sure I could do it myself.

But he didn't have a spear, and impressive or not, the coreling could still kill him, if his inner wards did not hold. He tensed as it drew close.

It swiped the hooked talon at the end of its wing at him, and Arlen winced, but magic sparked along the wardnet, and it was thwarted.

After a few more futile strikes, the coreling attempted to get airborne again. It ran and spread its wings to catch the wind, but it struck the outer wards before it could gain sufficient momentum. The magic threw it back into the mud.

Arlen laughed in spite of himself as the coreling tried to pick itself up. Its huge wings dragged on the ground and threw it off

balance. It had no hands to push up with, and its spindly arms bowed under its weight. It thrashed desperately for a moment before it was able to rise.

Trapped, it tried again and again to take off, but the space between the circles was not great enough, and it was foiled each time. The flame demons sensed their cousin's distress, and shrieked with glee, hopping around the circle to follow the creature and taunt its misfortune.

Arlen felt a swell of pride. He made mistakes the night before, but he would not make them again. He began to hope that he might live to see the Free Cities after all.

The flame demons soon tired of mocking the wind demon, and moved off in search of easier prey, flushing small animals from hiding with gouts of fire. One small, frightened hare leapt into Arlen's outer ring, the demon in pursuit stopped by the wards. The wind demon snatched clumsily at it, but the hare dodged it easily, running through the circle and out the far side, only to find corelings there as well. It turned and darted back in, again running too far.

Arlen wished there was a way he could communicate with the poor creature, to let it know it was safe in the inner ring, but he could only watch as it darted in and out of the wards.

Then, the unthinkable happened. The hare, scampering back into the circle, scratched out a ward. With a howl, flame demons poured through the gap after the animal. The lone wind demon escaped, leaping into the air and winging away.

Arlen cursed the hare, and cursed all the more when it darted right for him. If it damaged the inner wards, they were both doomed.

With a farm boy's quickness, Arlen reached from the circle and snatched up the hare by its ears. It thrashed wildly, willing to tear itself apart to escape, but Arlen had handled hares in his father's fields often enough. He swung it into his arms, cradling iton its back, hindquarters up above its head. In a moment, the hare was staring up at him blankly, its struggles ceased.

He was tempted to throw the creature to the demons. It would be safer than risking it getting free and scuffing another ward. And why not? he wondered. If I'd found it in the light, I'd've eaten it myself.

Still, he found he could not do it. The demons had taken too much from the world, from him. He swore then that he would give them nothing willingly, not now, not ever.

Not even this.

As the night wore on, Arlen held the terrified creature firmly, cooing at it and stroking its soft fur. All around, the demons howled, but Arlen blocked them out, focusing on the animal.

The meditation worked for a time, until a roar brought him back. He looked up to find the massive, one-armed rock demon towering over him, its drool sizzling as it struck the wards. The creature's wound had healed into a knobbly stump at the end of its elbow. Its rage seemed even greater than the night before.

The coreling hammered at the barrier, ignoring the stinging flare of the magic. With deafening blows, the rock demon struck again and again, attempting to power through and take its vengeance. Arlen clutched the hare tightly, his eyes wide as he watched. He knew that the wards would not weaken from repeated blows, but it did little to stop the fear that the demon was determined enough to manage it anyway.

When the morning light banished the demons for another day, Arlen finally let go of the hare, and it bounded away immediately. His stomach growled as he watched it go, but after what they had shared, he could not bring himself to look at the creature as food.

Rising, Arlen stumbled and almost fell as a wave of nausea took him. The cuts along his back were lances of fire. He reached back to touch the tender, swollen skin, and his hand came away wet with the stinking brown ooze that Coline had drained from Silvy's wounds. The cuts burned, and he felt flushed. He bathed in the cold pool again, but the chill water did little to ease his inner heat.

Arlen knew then he was going to die. Old Mey Friman, if she existed at all, was over two days away. If he truly had demon fever, though, it didn't matter. He wouldn't last two days.

Still, Arlen could not bring himself to give in. He stumbled on down the road, following the wagon ruts towards wherever they came from.

If he was to die, let it be closer to the Free Cities than the prison behind.

4

Leesha

319 AR

Leesha spent the night in tears.

That was nothing out of the ordinary, but it wasn't her mother that had her weeping this night. It was the screams. Someone's wards had failed; it was impossible to tell whose, but cries of terror and agony echoed in the dark, and smoke billowed into the sky. The whole village glowed with a hazy orange light as smoke refracted coreling fire.

The people of Cutter's Hollow couldn't search for survivors yet. They dare not even fight the fire. They could do nothing save pray to the Creator that embers did not carry on the wind and spread the flames. Houses in Cutter's Hollow were built well apart for just this reason, but a strong breeze could carry a spark a long way.

Even if the fire remained contained, the ash and smoke in the air could obscure wards with their greasy stain, giving corelings the access they desperately sought.

No corelings tested the wards around Leesha's house. It was a bad sign, hinting that the demons had found easier prey in the dark.

Helpless and afraid, Leesha did the only thing she could. She cried. Cried for the dead, cried for the wounded, and cried for herself. In a village with less than four hundred people, there was no one whose death would not cut her.

          At thirteen summers old, Leesha was an exceptionally pretty girl, with long, wavy hair of coal black and eyes the colour of blue sky. She was not yet flowered, and thus could not wed, but she was promised to Gared Cutter, the most handsome boy in the village. Gared was two summers older than her, tall and thick muscled. The other girls squealed as he passed, but he was Leesha's, and they all knew. He would give her strong babies.

If he lived through the night.

          The door to her room opened. Her mother never bothered to knock.In face and form, Elona was much like her daughter. Still beautiful at thirty, her long hair hung rich and black about her proud shoulders. She had a full, womanly figure that was the envy of all; the only thing Leesha hoped to inherit from her. Her own breasts had only just started to bud, and had a long way to go before they matched her mother's.

          'That's enough of your blubbering, you worthless girl,' Elona snapped, throwing Leesha a rag to dry her eyes. 'Crying alone gets you nothing. Cry in front of a man, if you want your way, but wetting your pillow won't bring the dead to life.' She pulled the door closed, leaving Leesha alone again in the evil orange light flickering through the slats of the shutters.

          Do you feel anything at all? Leesha wondered at her.

          Her mother was right that tears would not bring back the dead, but she was wrong that it was good for nothing. Crying had always been Leesha's escape when things were hard. Other girls might think Leesha's life was perfect, but only because none of them saw the face Elona showed her only child when they were alone. It was no secret Elona had wanted sons, and Leesha and her father both endured her scorn for failing to oblige.

But she angrily dried her eyes all the same. She couldn't wait until she flowered, and Gared took her away. The villagers would build them a house for their wedding boon, and Gared would carry her across the wards and make a woman of her while they all cheered outside. She would have her own children, and treat them nothing like her mother treated her.

          Leesha was dressed when her mother banged on her door. She had not slept at all.

          'I want you out the door when the dawn bell rings,' Elona said. 'And I'll not hear a murmur about you being tired! I won't have our family seen lagging to help.'

          Leesha knew her mother well enough to know that 'seen' was the operative word. Elona didn't care about helping anyone but herself.

Leesha's father, Erny, was waiting by the door under Elona's stern gaze. He was not a large man, and to call him wiry would have implied a strength that wasn't there. He was no stronger of will than of body, a timid man whose voice never raised. Elona's elder by a dozen years, Erny's thin brown hair had deserted the top of his head, and he wore thin-rimmed glasses he had bought from a Messenger years ago; the only man in town with the like.

He was, in short, not the man Elona wanted him to be, but there was great demand in the Free Cities for the fine paper he made, and she liked his money well enough.

          Unlike her mother, Leesha really wanted to help her neighbours. She was out and running towards the fire the moment the corelings fled, even before the bell.

'Leesha! Stay with us!' Elona cried, but Leesha ignored her. The smoke was thick and choking, but she raised her apron to cover her mouth, and did not slow.

A few townsfolk were already gathered by the time she reached the source. Three houses had burned to the ground, and two more still blazed, threatening to set their neighbours alight.

Leesha shrieked when she saw that one of the houses was Gared's.

Smitt, who owned the inn and general store in town, was on the scene, barking orders. Smitt had been their town Speaker for as long as Leesha could remember. He was never eager to give orders, preferring to let people solve their own problems, but everyone agreed he was good at it.

'...never pull water from the well fast enough,' Smitt was saying as Leesha approached. 'We'll have to form a bucket line to the stream and wet the other houses, or the whole village will be ashes by nightfall!'

Gared and Steave came running up just then, harried and sooty, but otherwise healthy. Gared, just fifteen, was bigger than most grown men in the village. Steave, his father, was a giant, towering over everyone. Leesha felt a knot in her stomach unclench at the sight of them.

But before she could run to Gared, Smitt pointed to him. 'Gared, pull the bucket cart to the stream!' He looked over the others. 'Leesha!' he said. 'Follow him and start filling!'

Leesha ran for all she was worth, but even pulling the heavy cart, Gared beat her to the small stream flowing from the River Angiers, miles to the north. The moment he pulled up short, she fell into his arms. She had thought seeing him alive would dispel the horrible images in her head, but it only intensified them. She didn't know what she would do if she lost Gared.

'I feared you dead,' she moaned, sobbing into his chest.

'I'm safe,' he whispered, hugging her tightly. 'I'm safe.'

Quickly, the two began unloading the cart, filling buckets to start the line as others arrived. Soon, more than a hundred villagers were in a neat row stretching from the stream to the blaze, passing up full buckets and handing back empty ones. Gared was called back to the fire with the cart, his strong arms needed to throw water.

It wasn't long before the cart returned, this time pulled by Tender Michel and laden with wounded. The sight brought mixed feelings. Seeing fellow villagers, friends all, burned and savaged cut her deeply, but a breach that left survivors was rare, and each one was a gift she thanked the Creator for.

The Holy Man and his acolyte, Child Jona, laid the injured out by the stream. Michel left the young man to comfort them while he brought the cart back for more.

Leesha turned from the sight, focusing on filling buckets. Her feet went numb in the cold water and her arms grew leaden, but she lost herself in the work until a whisper got her attention.

'Hag Bruna is coming,' someone said, and Leesha's head snapped up. Sure enough, the ancient Herb Gatherer was coming down the path, led by her apprentice, Darsy.

No one knew for sure how old Bruna was. It was said she was old when the village elders were young. She had delivered most of them herself. She had outlived her husband, children, and grandchildren, and had no family left in the world.

Now, she was withered and skeletal, a wrinkle of translucent skin over sharp bone. She was half-blind, and could walk only at a slow shuffle, but Bruna could still shout to be heard from the far end of the village, and she swung her gnarled walking stick with surprising strength and accuracy when her ire was roused.

Leesha, like most everyone in the village, was terrified of her.

Bruna's apprentice was a homely woman of twenty summers, thick of limb and wide of face. After Bruna outlived her last apprentice, a number of young girls had been sent to her for training. After a constant stream of abuse from the old woman, all but Darsy had been driven off.

'She's ugly as a bull and just as strong,' Elona once said of Darsy, cackling. 'What does she have to fear from that sour hag? It's not as if Bruna will drive the suitors from her door.'

Bruna knelt beside the injured, inspecting them with firm hands as Darsy unrolled a heavy cloth covered in pockets, each marked with symbols and holding a tool, vial, or pouch. Injured villagers moaned or cried out as she worked, but Bruna paid them no mind, pinching wounds and sniffing her fingers, working as much from touch and smell as sight. Without looking, Bruna's hands darted to the pockets of the cloth, mixing herbs with a mortar and pestle.

Darsy began laying a small fire, and looked up to where Leesha stood staring from the stream. 'Leesha! Bring water, and be quick about it!' she barked.

As Leesha hurried to comply, Bruna pulled up, sniffing the herbs she was grinding.

'Idiot girl!' Bruna shrieked. Leesha jumped, thinking she meant her, but Bruna hurled the mortar and pestle at Darsy, hitting her hard in the shoulder and covering her in ground herbs.

Bruna fumbled through her cloth, snatching the contents of each pocket and sniffing at them like an animal.

'You put stinkweed where the hogroot should be, and mixed all the skyflower with tampweed!' The old crone lifted her gnarled staff and struck Darsy across the shoulders. 'Are you trying to kill these people, or are you still too stupid to read?'

Leesha had seen her mother in such a state before, and if Elona was as frightening as a coreling, Hag Bruna was the mother of all demons. She began to edge away from the two, fearing to draw attention to herself.

'I'm sick of your abuse, you evil old hag!' Darsy screamed.

'Be off, then!' Bruna said. 'I'd sooner mar every ward in this town than leave you my herb pouch when I pass! The people would be no worse off!'

         Darsy laughed. 'Be off?' she asked. 'Who'll carry your bottles and tripods, old woman? Who'll lay your fire, fix your meals, and wipe the spit from your face when the cough takes you? Who'll cart your old bones around when chill and damp sap your strength? You need me more than I need you!'

Bruna swung her staff, and Darsy wisely scurried out of the way, tripping over Leesha, who had been doing her best to remain invisible. Both of them tumbled to the ground.

Bruna used the opportunity swing her staff again. Leesha rolled through the dust to avoid the blows, but Bruna's aim was true. Darsy cried out in pain, covering her head with her arms.

'Off with you!' Bruna shouted again. 'I have sick to tend!'

Darsy growled and got to her feet. Leesha feared she might strike the old woman, but instead she ran off. Bruna let fly a stream of curses at Darsy's back.

Leesha held her breath and kept to her knees, inching away. Just as she thought she might escape, Bruna took notice of her.

'You, Elona's brat!' she shouted, pointing her gnarled stick at Leesha. 'Finish laying the fire and set my tripod over it!'

Bruna turned back to the wounded, and Leesha had no choice but to do as she was told.

Over the next few hours, Bruna barked an endless stream of orders at the girl, cursing her slowness, as Leesha scurried to do her bidding. She fetched and boiled water, ground herbs, brewed tinctures, and mixed balms. It seemed she never got more than halfway though a task before the ancient Herb Gatherer ordered her on to the next, and she was forced to work faster and faster to comply. Fresh wounded streamed in from the fires with deep burns and broken bones from collapses. She feared half the village was aflame.

Bruna brewed teas to numb pain for some, and drug others into a dreamless sleep as she cut them with sharp instruments. She worked tirelessly; stitching, poulticing, and bandaging.

It was late afternoon when Leesha realized that not only were there no more injuries to tend, but the bucket line was gone, as well. She was alone with Bruna and the wounded, the most alert of whom stared off dazedly into space thanks to Bruna's herbs.

A wave of suppressed weariness fell over her, and Leesha fell to her knees, sucking in a deep breath. Every inch of her ached, but with the pain came a powerful sense of satisfaction. There were some that might not have lived, but now would, thanks in part to her efforts.

But the real hero, she admitted to herself, was Bruna. It occurred to her that the woman had not ordered her to do anything for several minutes. She looked over, and saw Bruna collapsed on the ground, gasping.

'Help! Help!' Leesha cried. 'Bruna's sick!' New strength came to her, and she flew to the woman, lifting her up into a sitting position. Hag Bruna was shockingly light, and Leesha could feel little more than bone beneath her thick shawls and wool skirts.

Bruna was twitching, and a thin trail of spit ran from her mouth, caught in the endless grooves of her wrinkled skin. Her eyes, dark behind a milky film, stared wildly at her hands, which would not stop shaking.

Leesha looked around frantically, but there was no one nearby to help. Still holding Bruna upright, she grabbed at one of the woman's spasming hands, rubbing the cramped muscles. 'Oh, Bruna!' she pleaded. 'What do I do? Please! I don't know how to help you! You must tell me what to do!' Helplessness cut at Leesha, and she began to cry.

Bruna's hand jerked from her grasp, and Leesha cried out, fearing a fresh set of spasms. But her ministrations had given the old Herb Gatherer the control to reach into her shawl, pulling free a pouch that she thrust Leesha's way. A series of coughs wracked her frail body, and she was torn from Leesha's arms and hit the ground, flopping like a fish with each cough. Leesha was left holding the pouch in horror.

She looked down at the cloth bag, squeezing experimentally and feeling the crunch of herbs inside. She sniffed it, catching a scent like potpourri.

She thanked the Creator. If it had all been one herb, she would have never been able to guess the dose, but she had made enough tinctures and teas for Bruna that day to understand what she had been given.

She rushed to the kettle steaming on the tripod and placed a thin cloth over a cup, layering it thick with herbs from the pouch. She poured boiling water over the herbs slowly, leaching their strength, then deftly tied the herbs up in the cloth and tossed it into the water.

She ran back to Bruna, blowing on the liquid. It would burn, but there was no time to let it cool. She lifted Bruna in one arm, pressing the cup to her spit-flecked lips.

The Herb Gatherer thrashed, spilling some of the cure, but Leesha forced her to drink, the yellow liquid running out of the sides of her mouth. She kept twitching and coughing, but the symptoms began to subside. As her heaves eased, Leesha sobbed in relief.

'Leesha!' she heard a call. She looked up from Bruna, and saw her mother racing towards her, ahead of a group of townsfolk.

'What have you done, you worthless girl?' Elona demanded. She reached Leesha before the others could draw close and hissed, 'Bad enough I have a useless daughter and not a son to fight the fire, but now you've gone and killed the town crone?' She drew back her hand to smack at her daughter, but Bruna reached up and caught Elona's wrist in her skeletal grip.

'The crone lives because of her, you idiot!' Bruna croaked. Elona turned bone white and drew back as if Bruna had become a coreling. The sight gave Leesha a rush of pleasure.

By then, the rest of the villagers had gathered around then, asking what had happened.

'My daughter saved Bruna's life!' Elona shouted, before Leesha or Bruna could speak.

Tender Michel held his warded Canon aloft so all could see the holy book as the remains of the dead were thrown on the ruin of the last burning house. The villagers stood with hats in hand, heads bowed. Jona threw incense on the blaze, flavouring the acrid stench permeating the air.

'Until the Deliverer comes to lift the plague of demonkind, remember well that is was the sins of man that brought it down!' Michel shouted. 'The adulterers and the fornicators! The liars and thieves and usurers!'

'The ones that clench their rears too tight,' Elona murmured. Someone snickered.

'Those leaving this world will be judged,' Michel went on, 'and those who served the Creator's will shall join with him in Heaven, while those who have broken his trust, sullied by sins of indulgence or flesh, will burn in the Core for eternity!' He closed the book, and the assembled villagers bowed in silence.

'But while mourning is good and proper,' Michel said, 'we should not forget those of us the Creator has chosen to live. Let us break casks and drink to the dead. Let us tell the tales of them we love most, and laugh, for life is precious, and not to be wasted. We can save our tears for when we sit behind our wards tonight.'

'That's our Tender,' Elona muttered. 'Any excuse to break open a cask.'

'Now dear,' Erny said, patting her hand, 'he means well.'

'The coward defends the drunk, of course,' Elona said, pulling her hand away. 'Steave rushes into burning houses, and my husband cringes with the women.'

'I was in the bucket line!' Erny protested. He and Steave had been rivals for Elona, and it was said that his winning of Elona was more to do with his purse than her heart.

'Like a woman,' Elona agreed, eyeing the muscular Steave across the crowd.

It was always like this. Leesha wished she could shut her ears to them. She wished the corelings had taken her mother, instead of seven good people. She wished her father would stand up to her for once; for himself, if not his daughter. She wished she would flower already, so she could go with Gared and leave them both behind.

Those too old or young to fight the flames had prepared a great meal for the village, and they laid it out as the others sat, too exhausted to move, and stared at the smouldering ashes.

But the fires were out, the wounded bandaged and healing, and there were hours before sunset. The Tender's words took the guilt from those relieved to be alive, and Smitt's strong Hollow ale did the rest. It was said that Smitt's ale could cure any woe, and there was much to cure. Soon the long tables rang with laughter at stories of those who had passed from the world.

Gared sat a few tables away with his friends, Ren and Flinn, their wives, and his other friend Evin. The other boys, all woodcutters, were older than Gared by a few years, but Gared was bigger than all save Ren, and would pass even him before his growing was done. Of the group, Evin alone was unpromised, and many girls eyed him, despite his short temper.

The older boys teased Gared relentlessly, especially about Leesha. She wasn't happy to be forced to sit with her parents, but sitting while Ren and Flinn made lewd suggestions and Evin picked fights was often worse.

After they had eaten their share, Tender Michel and Child Jona rose from the table, carrying a large platter of food to the Holy House, where Darsy looked after Bruna and the wounded. Leesha excused herself to help them. Gared spotted the move and rose to join her, but no sooner did she stand than she was swept off by Brianne, Saira, and Mairy, her closest friends.

'Is it true what happened?' Saira asked, pulling her left arm.

'Everyone's saying you knocked Darsy down and saved Hag Bruna!' Mairy said, pulling her right. Leesha looked back helplessly at Gared, and allowed herself to be led away.

'The grizzly bear can wait his turn,' Brianne told her.

'Yull come second to them girls even after yur married, Gared!' Ren cried, causing his friends to roar with laughter and pound the table. The girls ignored them, spreading their skirts and sitting on the grass, away from the increasing noise as their elders drained cask after cask.

'Gared's gonna be hearing that one, a while,' Brianne laughed. 'Ren bet five klats he won't get to kiss you before dusk, much less a good grope.' At sixteen, she was already two years a widow, but had no shortage of suitors. She said it was because she knew a wife's tricks. She lived with her father and two older brothers, woodcutters, and was mother to them all.

'Unlike some people, I don't invite every passing boy to grope me,' Leesha said, bringing a mock look of indignation from Brianne.

'I'd let Gared grope if I was promised to him,' Saira said. She was fifteen, with cropped brown hair and freckles on her chipmunk cheeks. She had been promised to a boy last year, but the corelings had taken him and her father in a single night.

'I wish I was promised,' Mairy complained. She was gaunt at fourteen years, with a hollow face and a prominent nose. She was full flowered, but despite the efforts of her parents, not yet promised. Elona called her scarecrow. 'No man will want to put a child between those bony hips,' she had sneered once, lest the scarecrow crack in two when the babe breaks.'

'It will happen soon enough,' Leesha told her. She was the youngest of the group at thirteen, but the others seemed to centre on her. Elona said it was because she was prettier and better moneyed, but Leesha could never believe her friends so petty.

'Did you really beat Darsy with a stick?' Mairy asked.

'It didn't happen like that,' Leesha said. 'Darsy made some mistake, and Bruna started hitting her with her stick. Darsy tried to back away, and walked right into me. We both fell down, and Bruna kept hitting her until she ran off.'

'If she hit me with a stick, I'd'a hit her right back,' Brianne said. 'Da says Bruna's a witch, and she slaps stomachs with demons in her hut at night.'

'That's disgusting nonsense!' Leesha snapped.

'Then why's she live so far from town?' Saira demanded. 'And how is it she's still alive when her grandchildren are dead of old age?'

'Because she's an Herb Gatherer,' Leesha said, 'and you don't find herbs growing in the centre of town. I helped her today, and it was amazing. I thought half the people brought to her were too hurt to live, but she saved every one.'

'Did you see her cast spells on them?' Mairy asked excitedly.

'She's not a witch!' Leesha said. 'She did it all with herbs and knives and thread.'

'She cut people?' Mairy said in disgust.

'Witch,' Brianne said. Saira nodded.

Leesha gave them all a sour look, and they quieted. 'She didn't just go around cutting people,' Leesha said. 'She healed them. It was... I can't explain it. Old as she is, but she never stopped working until she treated everyone. It was like she kept on by will alone. She collapsed right after she treated the last one.'

'And that's when you saved her?' Mairy asked.

Leesha nodded. 'She gave me the cure just before the coughing started. Really, all I did was brew it. I held her until the coughing stopped, and that's when everyone found us.'

'You touched her?' Brianne made a face. 'I bet she stunk of sour milk and weeds.'

'Creator!' Leesha cried. 'Bruna saved a dozen lives today, and all you can do is mock!'

'Goodness,' Brianne quipped, 'Leesha saves the hag, and suddenly her paps are too big for her corset.' Leesha scowled. The last of her friends to bloom, her breasts, or lack thereof, were a sore spot for her.

'You used to say the same things about her, Leesh,' Saira said.

'Maybe so, but not any more,' Leesha said. 'She may be a mean old woman, but she deserves better.'

Just then, Child Jona came over to them. He was seventeen, but too small and slight to swing an axe or pull a saw. Jona spent most of his days penning and reading letters for those in town with no letters, which was almost everyone. Leesha, one of the few children who could read, often went to him to borrow books from Tender Michel's collection.

'I've a message from Bruna,' he said to Leesha. 'She wishes...'

His words were cut off as he was yanked backward. Jona was two years senior, but Gared spun him like a paper doll, gripping his robes and pulling him so close their noses touched.

'I told you before about talking to those what arn't promised to ya,' Gared growled.

'I wasn't!' Jona protested, his feet kicking an inch off the ground, 'I just...!'

'Gared!' Leesha barked. 'You put him down this instant!'

Gared looked at Leesha, then back to Jona. His eyes flicked to his friends, then back to Leesha. He let go, and Jona crashed to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and scurried off. Brianne and Saira giggled, but Leesha silenced them with a glare before rounding on Gared.

'What in the Core is the matter with you?' Leesha demanded.

Gared looked down. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'It's jus'... well, I ent gotten to talk to ya all day, and I guess I got mad when I saw ya talking to him.'

'Oh, Gared,' Leesha touched his cheek, 'you don't have to be jealous. There's no one for me but you.'

'Really?' Gared asked.

'Will you apologize to Jona?' Leesha asked.

'Yes,' Gared promised.

'Then yes, really,' Leesha said. 'Now go on back to the tables. I'll join you in a bit.' She kissed him, and Gared broke into a wide smile and ran off.

'I suppose it's something like training a bear,' Brianne mused.       'A bear that just sat in a briar patch,' Saira said. 'You leave him be,' Leesha said. 'Gared doesn't mean any harm. He's just too strong for his own good, and a little...' 'Lumbering?' Brianne offered. 'Slow?' Saira supplied.

'Dim?' Mairy suggested.

Leesha swatted at them, and they all laughed.

Gared sat protectively by Leesha, he and Steave having come over to sit with Leesha's family. She longed for his arms around her, but it wasn't proper, even promised as they were, until she was of age and their engagement formalized by the Tender. Even then, chaste touching and kisses were supposed to be the limit until their wedding night.

Still, Leesha let Gared kiss her when they were alone, but she held it at that, regardless of what Brianne thought. She wanted to keep tradition, so their wedding night would be a special thing they would remember forever.

And of course, there was Klarissa, who had loved to dance and flirt. She had taught Leesha and her friends to reel and braided flowers in their hair. An exceptionally pretty girl, Klarissa had her pick of suitors.

Her son would be three now, and still no man in Cutter's Hollow would claim him as their own. It was broadly assumed that meant he was a married man, and over the months when her belly fattened, not a sermon had not gone by where Tender Michel had failed to remind her that it was her sin, and that of those like her, that kept the Creator's plague strong.

'The demons without echo the demons within,' he said.

Klarissa had been well loved, but after that, the town had quickly turned.  Women shunned her, whispering behind her passage, and men refused to meet her eyes while their wives were about, making lewd comments when they were not.

Klarissa had left with a Messenger bound for Fort Rizon soon after the boy was weaned, and never returned. Leesha missed her.

'I wonder what Bruna wanted when she sent Jona,' Leesha said.

'I hate that little runt,' Gared growled. 'Every time he looks at you, I can see him imagining you as his wife.'

'What do you care,' Leesha asked, 'if imagination is all it is?'

'I won't share you, even in other men's dreams,' Gared said, putting his giant hand over hers under the table. Leesha sighed and leaned in to him. Bruna could wait.

Just then, Smitt stood, legs shaky with ale, and banged his stein on the table. 'Everyone! Your attention, please!' His wife, Stefny, helped him stand up on the bench, propping him when he wobbled. The crowd quieted, and Smitt cleared his throat. He might dislike giving orders, but he liked giving speeches well enough.

'It's the worst times that bring out the best in us,' he began. 'But it's them times that show the Creator our mettle. Show that we've mended our ways and are worthy for him to send the Deliverer and end the plague. Show that the evil of the night cannot take our sense of family.

'Because that's what Cutter's Hollow is,' Smitt went on. 'A family. Oh, we bicker and fight and play favourites, but when the corelings come, we see those ties of family like the strings of a loom, tying us all together. Whatever our differences, no one is left to them.

'Four houses lost their wards in the night,' Smitt told the crowd, 'putting a score at the corelings' absent mercy. But due to heroism out in the naked night, only seven were taken.

'Niklas!' Smitt shouted, pointing at the sandy haired man sitting across from him. 'Ran into a burning house to pull his mother out!

'Jow!' he pointed to another man, who jumped at the sound. 'Not two days ago, he and Dav were before me, arguing all the way to blows. But last night, Jow hit a wood demon - A WOOD DEMON! - with his axe to hold it off while Dav and his family ran across his wards!'

Smitt hopped up on the table, passion lending agility to his drunken body. He walked its length, calling people by name, and telling of their deeds in the night. 'Heroes were found in the day, as well,' he went on. 'Gared and Steave!' he cried, pointing. 'Left their own house to burn to douse those that had a better chance! Because of them and others, only eight houses burned, when by rights it should have been the whole town!'

Smitt turned, and suddenly he was looking right at Leesha. His hand raised, and the finger he pointed to her struck her like a fist. 'Leesha!' he called. 'Thirteen years old, and she saved Gatherer Bruna's life!

'In every person in Cutter's Hollow beats the heart of a hero!' Smitt said, sweeping his hand over all. 'The corelings test us, and tragedy tempers us, but like Milnese steel, Cutter's Hollow will not break!'

The crowd roared in approval. Those that had lost loved ones cried the loudest, screaming their defiance through cheeks wet with tears.

Smitt stood in the centre of the din, soaking in its strength. After a time, he patted his hands, and the villagers quieted.

'Tender Michel,' he said, gesturing to the man, 'has opened the Holy House to the wounded, and Stefny and Darsy have volunteered to spend the night there tending them. Michel also offers the Creator's wards to all others who have nowhere else to

go.'

Smitt raised a fist. 'But hard pews are not where heroes should lay their heads! Not when they're amongst family. My tavern can hold ten comfortably, and more if need be. Who else among us will share their wards and their beds to heroes?'

Everyone shouted again, this time louder, and Smitt broke into a wide smile. He patted his hands again. 'The Creator smiles on you all,' he said, 'but the hour grows late. I'll assign...'

Elona stood up. She too had drunk a few mugs, and her words slurred. 'Erny and I will take in Gared and Steave,' she said, causing Erny to look sharply at her. 'We've plenty of room, and with Gared and Leesha promised, they're practically family already.'

'That's very generous of you, Elona,' Smitt said, unable to hide his surprise. Rarely did Elona show generosity, and even then, there was usually a hidden price.

'Are you sure that's proper?' Stefny asked loudly, causing everyone to turn eyes to her. When she wasn't working in her husband's tavern, Stefny was volunteering at the Holy House, or studying the Canon. She hated Elona - a mark in her favour in Leesha's mind - but she had also been the first to turn on Klarissa when her state became clear.

'Two promised children living under one roof?' Stefny asked, but her eyes flicked to Steave, not Gared. 'Who knows what improprieties might occur? Perhaps it would be best for you to take in others, and let Gared and Steave stay at the tavern.'

Elona's eyes narrowed. 'I think three parents enough to chaperone two children, Stefny,' she said icily. She turned to Gared, squeezing his broad shoulders. 'My soon to be son-in-law did the work of five men today,' she said. 'And Steave,' she reached out and drunkenly poked the man's burly chest, 'did the work often.'

She spun back towards Leesha, but stumbled a bit. Steave, laughing, caught her about the waist before she fell. His hand was huge on her slender midsection. 'Even my,' she swallowed the word 'useless', but Leesha heard it anyway, 'daughter did great deeds today. I'll not have my heroes bed down in some other's home.'

Stefny scowled, but the rest of the villagers took the matter as closed, and started offering up their own homes to the others in need.

Elona stumbled again, falling into Steave's lap with a laugh. 'You can sleep in Leesha's room,' she told him. 'It's right next to mine.' She dropped her voice at that last part, but she was drunk, and everyone heard. Gared blushed, Steave laughed, and Erny hung his head. Leesha felt a stab of sympathy for her father.

'I wish the corelings had taken her last night,' she muttered.

Her father looked up at her. 'Don't ever say that,' he said. 'Not about anyone.' He looked hard at Leesha until she nodded.

'Besides,' he added sadly, 'they'd probably just give her right back.'

Accommodations had been made for all, and people were preparing to leave when there was a murmur, and the crowd parted. Through that gap limped Hag Bruna.

Child Jona held one of the woman's arms as she walked. Leesha leapt to her feet to take her other. 'Bruna, you shouldn't be up,' she admonished. 'You should be resting!'

'It's your own fault, girl,' Bruna snapped. 'There's those sicker than I, and I need herbs from my hut to treat them. If your bodyguard,' she glared at Gared and he fell back in fright, 'had let Jona bring my message, I could have sent you with a list. But now it's late, and I'll have to go with you. We can stay behind my wards for the night, and come back in the morn.'

'Why me?' Leesha asked.

'Because none of the other lackwit girls in this town can read!' Bruna shrieked. 'They'd mix up the labels on the bottles worsen that cow Darsy!'

'Jona can read,' Leesha said.

'I offered to go,' the acolyte began, but Bruna slammed her stick down on his foot, cutting his words off in a yelp.

'Herb Gathering is women's work, girl,' Bruna said. 'Holy Men are just there to pray while we do it.'

'I...' Leesha began, looking back at her parents for an escape.

'I think it's a fine idea,' Elona said, finally extricating herself from Steave's lap. 'Spend the night at Bruna's.' She shoved Leesha forward. 'My daughter is glad to help,' she said with a broad smile.

'Perhaps Gared should go as well?' Steave suggested, kicking his son.

'You'll need a strong back to carry your herbs and potions back in the morning,' Elona agreed, pulling Gared up.

The ancient Herb Gatherer glared at her, then at Steave, but nodded finally.

The trip to Bruna's was slow; the hag setting a shuffling crawl of a pace. They made it to the hut just before sunset.

'Check the wards, boy,' Bruna told Gared. While he complied, Leesha took her inside, setting the old woman down in a cushioned chair, and laying a quilt blanket over her. Bruna was breathing hard, and Leesha feared she would start coughing again any minute. She filled the kettle and laid wood and tinder in the hearth, casting her eyes about for flint and steel.

'The box on the mantle,' Bruna said, and Leesha noticed the small wooden box. She opened it, but there was no flint or steel within, only short wooden sticks with some kind of clay at the ends. She picked up two and tried rubbing them together.

'Not like that, girl!' Bruna snapped. 'Have you never seen a flamestick?'

Leesha shook her head. 'Da keeps some in the shop where he mixes chemics,' Leesha said, 'but I'm not to go in there.'

The old Herb Gatherer sighed and beckoned the girl over. She took one of the sticks and braced it against her gnarled, dry thumbnail. She flicked her thumb, and the end of the stick burst into flame. Leesha's eyes bulged.

'There's more to Herb Gathering than plants, girl,' Bruna said, touching the flame to a taper before the flamestick burned out. She lit a lamp, and handed the taper to Leesha. She held the lamp out, illuminating a dusty shelf filled with books in its flickering light.

'Sweet day!' Leesha exclaimed. 'You have more books than Tender Michel!'

'These aren't witless stories censored by the Holy Men, girl. Herb Gatherers are keepers of a bit of the knowledge of the old world, from back before the Return, when the demons burned the great libraries.'

'Science?' Leesha asked. 'Was that not the hubris that brought on the plague?'

'That's Michel talking,' Bruna said. 'If I'd known that boy would grow into such a pompous ass, I'd have left him between his mother's legs. It was science, as much as magic, that drove the corelings off the first time. The sagas tell of great Herb Gatherers healing mortal wounds, and mixing herbs and minerals that killed demons by the score with fire and poison.'

Leesha was about to ask another question when Gared returned. Bruna waved her towards the hearth, and Leesha lit the fire and set the kettle over it. Soon the water was boiling, and Bruna reached into the many pockets of her robe, putting her special mixture of herbs in her cup, and tea in Leesha's and Gared's. Her hands were quick, but Leesha still noticed the old woman throw something extra in Gared's cup.

She poured the water, and they all sipped in an awkward silence. Gared drank his quickly, and soon began rubbing his face. A moment later, he slumped over, fast asleep.

'You put something in his tea,' Leesha accused.

The old woman cackled. 'Tampweed resin and skyflower pollen,' she said. 'Each with many uses alone, but together, a pinch can put a bull to sleep.'

'But why?' Leesha asked.

Bruna smiled, but it was a frightening thing. 'Call it chaperoning,' she said. 'Promised or no, you can't trust a fifteen year old boy alone with a young girl at night.'

'Then why let him come along?' Leesha asked.

Bruna shook her head. 'I told your father not to marry that shrew, but she dangled her udders at him and left him dizzy,' she sighed.

 'Drunk as they are, Steave and your mum are going to have at it no matter who's in the house,' she said. 'But that don't mean Gared ought to hear it. Boys are bad enough at his age, as is.'

Leesha's eyes bulged. 'My mother would never...!'

'Careful finishing that sentence, girl,' Bruna cut her off. 'The Creator abhors a liar.'

Leesha deflated. She knew what Elona was like. 'Gared's not like that, though,' she said.

Bruna snorted. 'Midwife a village and tell me that,' she said.

'It wouldn't even matter if I was flowered,' Leesha said. 'Then Gared and I could marry, and I could do for him as a wife should.'

'Eager for that, are you?' Bruna said with a wicked grin. 'It's no sad affair, I'll admit. Men have more uses than swinging axes and carrying heavy things.'

'What's taking so long?' Leesha asked. 'Saira and Mairy reddened their sheets in their twelfth summers, and this will be my thirteenth! What could be wrong?'

'Nothing's wrong,' Bruna said. 'Each girl bleeds in her own time. It may be you have a year yet, or more.'

'A year!' Leesha exclaimed.

'Don't be so quick to leave childhood behind, girl,' Bruna said. 'You'll find you miss it when its gone. There's more to the world than laying under a man and making his babies.'

'But what else could compare?' Leesha asked.

Bruna gestured to her shelf. 'Choose a book,' she said. 'Any book. Bring it here, and I'll show you what else the world can offer.'

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

5

Crowded Home

319 AR

 

Leesha woke with a start as Bruna's old rooster crowed to mark the dawn. She rubbed her face, feeling the imprint of the book on her cheek. Gared and Bruna were still fast asleep. The Herb Gatherer had passed out early, but despite her own fatigue, Leesha kept on reading late into the night. She had thought Herb Gathering was just setting bones and birthing babes, but there was so much more. Herb Gatherers studied the entire natural world, finding ways to combine the Creator's many gifts for the benefit of His children.

Leesha took the ribbon that held back her dark hair and laid it across the page, closing the book as reverently as she did the Canon. She rose and stretched, laying fresh wood on the fire and stirring the embers into a flame. She put the kettle on, and then went over to shake Gared.

'Wake up, lazybones,' she said, keeping her voice low. Gared only groaned. Whatever Bruna had given him, it was strong. She shook harder, and he swatted at her, eyes still closed.

'Get up or there'll be no breakfast for you,' Leesha laughed, kicking him.

Gared groaned again, and his eyes cracked. When Leesha drew her foot back a second time, he reached out and grabbed her leg, pulling her down on top of him with a yelp.

He rolled on top of her, encircling her in his burly arms, and Leesha giggled at his kisses..

'Stop it,' she said, swatting at him half-heartedly, 'you'll wake Bruna.'

'So what if I do?' Gared asked. 'The old hag is a hundred years old and blind as a bat.'

'The hag's ears are still sharp,' Bruna said, cracking open one of her milky white eyes.

Gared yelped and practically flew to his feet, distancing himself from Leesha and Bruna both.

'You keep your hands to yourself in my home, boy, or I'll brew a potion to keep your manhood slack for a year,' Bruna said. Leesha saw the colour drain from Gared's face, and bit her lip to keep from laughing. For some reason, Bruna no longer frightened her, but she loved watching the old woman intimidate everyone else.

'We understand one another?' Bruna asked.

'Yes'm,' Gared said immediately.

'Good,' Bruna said. 'Now put those burly shoulders to work and split some wood for the firebox.' Gared was out the door before she finished. Leesha laughed as the door slammed.

'Liked that, did you?' Bruna asked.

'I've never seen anyone send Gared scurrying like that,' Leesha said.

'Come closer, so I can see you,' Bruna said. When Leesha did, she went on, 'Being village healer is more than brewing potions. A strong dose of fear is good for the biggest boy in the village. Maybe help him think twice before hurting someone.'

'Gared would never hurt anyone,' Leesha said.

'As you say,' Bruna said, but she didn't sound at all convinced.

'Could you really have made a potion to take his manhood away?' Leesha asked.

Bruna cackled. 'Not for a year,' she said. 'Not with one dose, anyway. But a few days, or even a week? As easily as I dosed his tea.'

Leesha looked thoughtful.

'What is it, girl?' Bruna asked. 'Having doubts your boy will leave you unplucked before your wedding?'

'I was thinking more on Steave,' Leesha said.

Bruna nodded. 'And well you should,' she advised. 'But have care. Your mother is wise to the trick. She came to me often when she was young, needing Gatherer's tricks to stem her flow and keep her from getting with child while she had her fun. I didn't see her for what she was, then, and I'm sad to say I taught her more than I should have.'

'Mum wasn't a virgin when da carried her across his wards?' Leesha asked in shock.

Bruna snorted. 'Half the town had a roll with her before Steave drove the others away.'

Leesha's jaw dropped. 'Mum condemned Klarissa when she got with child,' she said.

Bruna spat on the floor. 'Everyone turned on that poor girl. Hypocrites, all! Smitt talks of family, but he didn't lift a finger when his wife led the town after that girl like a pack of flame demons. Half those women pointing at her and crying 'Sin!' were guilty of the same deed, they were just lucky enough to marry fast, or smart enough to take precautions.'

'Precautions?' Leesha asked.

Bruna shook her head. 'Elona's so eager to have a grandson she's kept you in the dark about everything, eh?' she asked. 'Tell me, girl, how are babies made?'

Leesha blushed. 'The man, I mean, your husband... He...'

'Out with it, girl,' Bruna snapped, 'I'm too old to wait for the red to leave your face.'

'He spends his seed in you,' Leesha said, her face reddening further.

Bruna cackled. 'You can treat burns and demon wounds, but blush at how life is made?'

Leesha opened her mouth to reply, but Bruna cut her off.

'Make your boy spend his seed on your belly, and you can lie with him to your heart's content,' Bruna said. 'But boys can't be trusted to pull from you in time, as Klarissa learned. The smarter ones come to me for tea.'

'Tea?' Leesha asked, leaning on every word.

'Pomm leaves, leached in the right dose with some other herbs, create a tea that will keep a man's seed from taking root.'

'But Tender Michel says...' Leesha began.

'Spare me the recitation from the Canon,' Bruna cut her off. 'It's a book written by men, without a thought given towards the plight of women.'

Leesha's mouth closed with a click.

'Your mum visited me often,' Bruna went on, 'asking questions, helping me around the hut, grinding herbs for me. I had thought to make her my apprentice, but all she wanted was the secret of the tea. Once I told her how it was made, she left and never returned.'

'That does sound like her,' Leesha said.

'Pomm tea is safe enough in small doses,' Bruna said, 'but Steave is lusty, and your mother took too much. The two of them must have slapped stomachs a thousand times before your father's business began to prosper, and his purse caught her eye. By then, your mum's womb was scraped dry.'

Leesha looked at her curiously.

'After she married your father, Elona tried for two years to conceive without success,' Bruna said. 'Steave married some young girl and got her with child overnight, which only made your mum more desperate. Finally, she came back to me, begging for help.'

Leesha leaned in close, knowing her existence had hinged on whatever Bruna said next.

'Pomm tea must be taken in small doses,' Bruna repeated, 'and once a month it is best to stop it and allow your flow to come. Fail this, and you risk becoming barren. I warned Elona, but she was a slave to her loins, and failed to listen. For months I gave her herbs and checked her flow, giving her herbs to slip into your father's food. Finally, she conceived.'

'Me,' Leesha said. 'She conceived me.'

Bruna nodded. 'I feared for you, girl. Your mum's womb was weak, and we both knew she would not have another chance. She came to me every day, asking me to check on her son.'

'Son?' Leesha asked.

'I warned her it might not be a boy,' Bruna said, 'but Elona was stubborn. 'The Creator could not be so cruel' she'd say, forgetting that the same Creator made the corelings.'

'So all I am is some cruel joke of the Creator?' Leesha asked.

Bruna grabbed Leesha's chin in her bony fingers and pulled her in close. Leesha could see the long grey hairs, like cat's whiskers, on the crone's wrinkled lips as she spoke.

'We are what we choose to be, girl,' she said. 'Let others determine your worth, and you've already lost, because no one wants people worth more than themselves. Elona has no one to blame but herself for her bad choices, but she's too vain to admit it. Easier to take it out on you and poor Erny.'

'I wish she'd been exposed and run out of town,' Leesha said.

'You would betray your gender out of spite?' Bruna asked.

'I don't understand,' Leesha said.

'There's no shame in a girl wanting a man twixt her legs, Leesha,' Bruna said. 'An Herb Gatherer can't judge folks for doing what nature intended they do when they are young and free. It's oath breakers I can't abide. You say your vows, girl, you'd best plan on keeping them.'

Leesha nodded.

Gared returned, just then. 'Darsy's come to see ya back to town,' he told Bruna.

'I swear I sacked that dimwitted sow,' Bruna grumbled.

'The town council met yesterday and reinstated, me,' Darsy said, pushing into the hut. She was not as tall as Gared, but she was not far off, and easily topped his weight. 'It's your own fault. No one else would take the job.'

'They can't do that!' Bruna barked.

'Oh, yes they can,' Darsy said. 'I don't like it any more than you, but you could pass any day now, and the town needs someone to tend the sick.'

'I've outlived better than you,' Bruna sneered. 'I'll choose who I teach.'

'Well I'm to stay until you do,' Darsy said, looking at Leesha and baring her teeth.

'Then make yourself useful and put the porridge on,' Bruna said. 'Gared's a growing boy and needs to keep his strength up.'

Darsy scowled, but she rolled her sleeves and headed for the boiling kettle nonetheless.

'Smitt and I are going to have a little chat when I get to town,' Bruna grumbled.

'Is Darsy really so bad?' Leesha asked.

Bruna's watery eyes turned Gared's way. 'I know you're stronger than an ox, boy, but I imagine there are still a few cords to split outback.'

Gared didn't need to be told twice. He was out the door in a blink, and they heard him put the axe back to work.

'Darsy's useful enough around the hut,' Bruna admitted. 'She splits wood almost as fast as your boy, and makes a fair porridge. But those meaty hands are too clumsy for healing, and she has little aptitude for the Gatherer's art. She'll make a passable midwife— any fool can pull a babe from its mother— and at setting bones she's second to none, but the subtler work is beyond her. I weep at the thought of this town with her as Herb Gatherer.'

'You won't make Gared much of a wife if you can't get a simple dinner together!' Elona called.

Leesha scowled. So far as she knew, her mother had never prepared a meal in her life. It had been days since she'd had a proper sleep, but Creator forbid her mother lift a hand to help.

She had gone spent the day tending the sick with Bruna and Darsy. She picked up the skills quickly, causing Bruna to use her as an example to Darsy. Darsy did not care for that.

Leesha knew Bruna wanted to apprentice her. The old woman didn't push, but she had made her intentions clear. But there was her father's papermaking business to think of as well. She had worked in the shop, a large connected section of their house, since she was a little girl, penning messages for villagers and making sheets. Erny told her she had a gift for it. Her bindings were prettier than his, and Leesha liked to embed her pages with flower petals, which the ladies in Lakton and Fort Rizon paid more for than their husbands did for plain sheets.

Erny's hope was to retire while Leesha ran the shop and Gared made the pulp and handled the heavy work. But papermaking had never held much interest for Leesha. She did it mostly to spend time with her father, away from the lash of her mother's tongue.

Elona may have liked the money it made, but she hated the shop, complaining of the smell of the lye in the pulping vats and the noise of the grinder. The shop was a retreat from her that Leesha and Erny took often; a place of laughter that the house proper would never be.

Steave's booming laugh made her look up from the vegetables she was chopping for stew. He was in the common room, sitting in her father's chair, drinking his ale. Elona sat on the chair's arm, laughing and leaning in, her hand on his shoulder.

Leesha wished she were a flame demon, so she could spit fire on them. She had never been happy trapped in the house with Elona, but now all she could think of were Bruna's stories. Her mother didn't love her father and probably never had. She thought her daughter a cruel joke of the Creator. And she hadn't been a virgin when Erny carried her across the wards.

For some reason, that cut the deepest. Bruna said there was no sin in a woman taking pleasure in a man, but the hypocrisy of her mother stung nonetheless. She had helped force Klarissa out of town to hide her own indiscretion.

'I won't be like you,' Leesha swore. She would have her wedding day as the Creator intended, becoming a woman in her marriage bed as the town cheered outside.

Elona squealed at something Steave said, and Leesha began to sing to herself to drown them out. Her voice was rich and pure; Tender Michel was forever asking her to sing at services.

'Leesha!' her mother barked a moment later. 'Quit your warbling! We can hardly hear ourselves think out here!'

'Doesn't sound like there's much thinking going on,' Leesha muttered.

'What was that?' Elona demanded.

'Nothing!' Leesha called back in her most innocent voice.

They ate just after sunset, and Leesha watched proudly as Gared used the bread she had made to scrape clean his third bowl of her stew.

'She's not much of a cook, Gared,' Elona apologized, 'but it's filling enough if you hold your nose.'

Steave, gulping ale at the time, snorted it out his nose. Gared laughed at his father, and Elona snatched the napkin from Erny's lap to dry Steave's face. Leesha looked to her father for support, but he kept his eyes on his bowl. He hadn't said a word since emerging from the shop.

It was too much for Leesha. She cleared the table and retreated to her room, but there was no sanctuary there. She had forgotten her mother had given the room to Steave for the duration of his and Gared's indefinite stay. The giant woodcutter had tracked mud across her spotless floor, leaving his filthy boots on top of her favourite book, where it lay by her bed.

She cried out and ran to the treasure, but the cover was hopelessly muddied. Her bedclothes of soft Rizona wool were stained with Creator knew what, and stank of a foul blend of musky sweat and the expensive Angerian perfume her mother favoured.

Leesha felt sick. She clutched her precious book tightly and fled to her father's shop, weeping as she tried futilely to clean the stains from her book. It was there Gared found her.

'So this is where ya run off to,' he said, moving to encircle her in his burly arms.

Leesha pulled away, wiping her eyes and trying to compose herself. 'I just needed a moment,' she said.

Gared caught her arm. 'Is this about the joke yur mum made?' he asked.

Leesha shook her head, trying to turn away again, but Gared held her fast.

'I was only laughing at my da,' he said. 'I loved yur stew.'

'Really?' Leesha sniffed.

'Really,' he promised, pulling her close and kissing her deeply. 'We could feed an army of sons on cooking like that,' he husked.

Leesha giggled. 'I might have trouble squeezing out an army of little Gareds,' she said.

He held her tighter, and put his lips to her ear. 'Right now, I'm only interested in you squeezing one in,' he said.

Leesha groaned, but she gently pushed him away. 'We'll be wed soon enough,' she said.

'Yesterday isn't soon enough,' Gared said, but he let her go.

Leesha lay curled up in blankets by the common room fire. Steave had her room, and Gared was on a cot in the shop. The floor was draughty and cold at night, and the wool rug was rough and hard to lie upon. She longed for her own bed, though nothing short of burning would erase the stench of Steave and her mother's sin.

She wasn't even sure why Elona bothered with the ruse. It wasn't as if she was fooling anyone. She might as well put Erny out in the common room and take Steave right to her bed.

Leesha couldn't wait until she and Gared could leave.

She lay awake, listening to the demons testing the wards and imagining running the papermaking shop with Gared; her father retired and her mother and Steave sadly passed on. Her belly was round and full, and she kept books while Gared came in flexed and sweaty from working the grinder. He kissed her as their little ones raced about the shop.

The image warmed her, but she remembered Bruna's words, and wondered if she would be missing something if she devoted her life to children and papermaking. She closed her eyes again, and imagined herself as the Herb Gatherer of Cutter's Hollow, everyone depending on her to cure their ills, deliver their babies, and heal their wounds. It was a powerful image, but one harder to fit Gared or children into. An Herb Gatherer had to visit the sick, and the image of Gared carrying her herbs and tools from place to place didn't ring true, nor did the idea of him keeping eye on the children while she worked.

'I just came to use the privy,' Gared whispered, coming over and kneeling beside her.

'There's a privy in the shop,' Leesha reminded him.

'Then I came for a goodnight kiss,' he said, leaning in with his lips puckered.

'You had three when you first went to bed,' Leesha said, playfully smacking him away.

'Is it so bad to want another?' Gared asked.

'I suppose not,' Leesha said, putting her arms around his shoulders.

Some time later, there was the creak of another door. Gared stiffened, looking about for a place to hide. Leesha pointed to one of the chairs. He was far too big to be covered completely, but with only the dim orange glow from the fireplace to see by, it might prove enough.

A faint light appeared a moment later, dashing that hope. Leesha barely managed to lie back down and close her eyes before it swept into the room.

Through slitted eyes, Leesha saw her mother looking into the common room. The lantern she held was mostly shuttered, and the light threw great shadows, giving Gared room enough to hide if she didn't look too closely.

They needn't have worried. After satisfying herself that Leesha was asleep, Elona opened the door to Steave's room and disappeared inside.

Leesha stared after her for a long time. That Elona was being untrue was no great revelation, but until this very moment, Leesha had allowed herself the luxury of doubting that her mother could truly be so willing to throw away her vows.

She felt Gared's hand on her shoulder. 'Leesha, I'm sorry,' he said, and she buried her face in his chest, weeping. He held her tightly, muffling her sobs and rocking back and forth. A demon roared somewhere off in the distance, and Leesha wanted to scream along with it. She held her tongue in the vain hope that her father was sleeping, oblivious to Elona's grunting, but the likelihood seemed remote unless she had used one of Bruna's sleeping draughts on him.

'I'll take you away from this,' Gared said. 'We'll waste no time in making plans, and I'll have a house for us before the ceremony if I have to cut and carry all the logs myself.'

'Oh, Gared,' she said, kissing him. He returned the embrace, and lay her down again. The thumping from Steave's room and the sound of the demons without all faded away into the thrum of blood in her ears.

Gared's hands roamed her body freely, and Leesha let him touch places that only a husband should. She gasped and arched her back in pleasure, and Gared took the opportunity to position himself between her legs. She felt him slip free of his breeches, and knew what he was doing. She knew she should push him away, but there was a great emptiness inside her, and Gared seemed the only person in the world who might be able to fill it.

He was about to drive forward when Leesha heard her mother cry out in pleasure, and she stiffened. Was she any better than Elona, if she gave up her vows so easily? She swore to cross the wards of her marriage house a virgin. She swore to be nothing like Elona. But here she was, throwing all that away to rut with a boy mere feet from where her mother sinned.

'It's oath breakers I can't abide,' she heard Bruna say again, and Leesha pressed her hands hard against Gared's chest.

'Gared, no, please,' she whispered. Gared stiffened for a long moment. Finally, he rolled away from her and retied his breeches.

'I'm sorry,' Leesha said weakly.

'No, I'm sorry,' Gared said. He kissed her temple. 'I can wait.'

Leesha hugged him tightly, and Gared rose to leave. She wanted him to stay and sleep beside her, but they had stretched their luck thin as it was. If they were caught together, Elona would punish her severely, despite her own sin. Perhaps even because of it.

As the door to the shop clicked shut, Leesha lay back filled with warm thoughts of Gared. Whatever pain her mother might bring her, she could weather it so long as she had Gared.

 

Breakfast was an uncomfortable affair, the sounds of chewing and swallowing thunderous in the mute pall hanging over the table. It seemed there was nothing to say not better left unsaid. Leesha wordlessly cleared the table while Gared and Steave fetched their axes.

'Will you be in the shop today?' Gared asked, finally breaking the silence. Erny looked up for the first time that morning, interested in her reply.

'I promised Bruna I'd help tend the wounded again today,' Leesha said, but she looked apologetically at her father as she did. Erny nodded in understanding and smiled weakly.

'And how long is that to go on for?' Elona asked.

Leesha shrugged. 'Until they're better, I suppose,' she said.

'You're spending too much time with that old witch,' Elona said.

'At your request,' Leesha reminded.

Elona scowled. 'Don't get smart with me, girl.'

Anger flared in Leesha, but she flashed her most winning smile as she swung her cloak around her shoulders. 'Don't worry, mother,' she said, 'I won't drink too much of her tea.'

Steave snorted, and Elona's eyes bulged, but Leesha swept out the door before she could recover enough to reply.

Gared walked with her a ways, but soon they reached the place where the woodcutters met each morning, and Gared's friends were already waiting.

'Yur late, Gar,' Evin grumbled.

'Gotta woman t'cook for him, now,' Flinn said. 'That'll make any man linger.'

'If he even slept,' Ren snorted. 'My guess is he got her doing more'n cooking, an' right under her father's nose.'

'Ren got that right, Gar?' Flinn asked. 'Find a new place to keep yur axe last night?'

Leesha bristled and opened her mouth to retort, but Gared laid a hand on her shoulder. 'Pay them no mind,' he said. 'They're just try in' to make you spit.'

'You could defend my honour,' Leesha said. Creator knew, boys would fight for any other reason.

'Oh, I will,' Gared promised. 'I just don't want ya to see it. I'd rather ya keep thinking me gentle.'

'You are gentle,' Leesha said, standing on tip-toes to kiss his cheek. The boys hooted, and Leesha stuck her tongue out at them as she walked off.

 

 

 

'Idiot girl,' Bruna muttered, when Leesha told her what she had said to Elona. 'Only a fool shows their cards when the game's just getting started.'

'This isn't a game, it's my life!' Leesha said.

Bruna grabbed her face, squeezing her cheeks so hard her lips puckered apart. 'All the more reason to show a little sense,' she growled, glaring with her milky eyes.

Leesha felt anger flare hotly within her. Who was this woman, to speak to her so? Bruna seemed to hold the entire town in scorn, grabbing, hitting, and threatening anyone she pleased. Was she any better than Elona, really? Had she had Leesha's best interests at heart when she told her all those horrible things about her mother, or was she just manipulating her to become her apprentice, like Elona's pressure to marry Gared early and bear his children? In her heart, Leesha wanted both of those things, but she was tiring of being pushed.

'Well, well, look who's back,' came a voice from the door, 'the young prodigy.'

Leesha looked up to see Darsy standing in the doorway of the Holy House with an armful of firewood. The woman made no effort to hide her dislike for Leesha, and she could be just as intimidating as Bruna when she wished. Leesha had tried to assure her that she was not a threat, but her overtures only seemed to make things worse. Darsy was determined not to like her.

'Don't blame Leesha if she's learned more in two days than you did in your first year,' Bruna said, as Darsy slammed down the wood and lifted a heavy iron poker to stoke the fire.

Leesha was sure she would never get along with Darsy so long as Bruna kept picking at the wound, but she busied herself grinding herbs for poultices. Several of those burned in the attack had skin infections that needed regular attention. Others were worse still. Bruna had been shaken awake twice in the night to tend those, but so far, her herbs and skills had not failed her.

Bruna had assumed complete control of the Holy House, ordering Tender Michel and the rest around like Milnese servants. She kept Leesha close by, talking continuously in her phlegmy rasp, explaining the nature of the wounds, and the properties of the herbs she used to treat them. Leesha watched her cut and sew flesh, and found her stomach was strengthening to such things.

Morning faded into afternoon, and Leesha had to force Bruna to pause and eat. Others might not notice the strain in the old woman's breath or the shake of her hands, but Leesha did.

'That's it,' she said finally, snatching the mortar and pestle from the Herb Gatherer's hands. Bruna looked up at her sharply.

'Go and rest,' Leesha said.

'Who are you, girl, to...' Bruna began, reaching for her stick.

Leesha was wise to the move and faster, grabbing the stick and pointing it right at Bruna's hooked nose. 'You're going to have another attack if you don't rest,' she scolded. 'I'm taking you outside, and no arguing! Stefny and Darsy can handle things for an hour.'

'Barely,' Bruna grumbled, but she allowed Leesha to help her up and lead her outside.

The sun was high in the sky, and the grass by the Holy House was lush and green, save for a few patches blackened by flame demons. Leesha spread a blanket and eased Bruna down, bringing her special tea and soft bread that would not strain the crone's few remaining teeth.

They sat in comfortable silence for a time, enjoying the warm spring day. Leesha thought she had been unfair, comparing Bruna to her mother. When was the last time she and Elona had shared a comfortable silence in the sun? Had they ever?

She heard a rasping sound, and turned to find Bruna snoring. She smiled and spread the woman's shawl over her. She stretched her legs, and spotted Saira and Mairy a short ways off, sewing out on the grass. They waved and beckoned, shifting over on their blanket to make room as Leesha came to sit.

'How goes the Herb Gathering?' Mairy asked.

'Exhausting,' Leesha said. 'Where's Brianne?'

The girls looked at one another and giggled. 'Off in the woods with Evin,' Saira said.

Leesha tsked. 'That girl is going to end up like Klarissa,' she said.

Saira shrugged. 'Brianne says you can't scorn something you haven't tried.'

'Are you planning to try?' Leesha asked.

'You think you've no reason not to wait,' Saira said. 'I thought that, too, before Jak was taken. Now I'd give anything to have had him once before he died. To have his child, even.'

'I'm sorry,' Leesha said.

'It's all right,' Saira replied sadly. Leesha embraced her, and Mairy joined in.

'Oh, how sweet!' came a cry from behind them. 'I want to hug, too!' They looked up just as Brianne crashed into them, knocking them laughing into the grass.

'You're in good spirits today,' Leesha said.

'A romp in the woods'll do that,' Brianne said with a wink, elbowing her in the ribs. 'Besides,' she sang, 'Eeevin told me a secret!'

'Tell us!' the three girls cried at once.

Brianne laughed, and her eyes flicked to Leesha. 'Maybe later,' she said. 'How's the crone's new apprentice today?'

'I'm not her apprentice, whatever Bruna may think,' Leesha said. 'I'm still going to run my father's shop once Gared and I marry. I'm just helping with the sick.'

'Better you'n me,' Brianne said. 'Herb Gathering seems like hard work. You look a mess. Get enough sleep last night?'

Leesha shook her head. 'The floor by the hearth isn't as comfortable as a bed,' she said.

'I wouldn't mind sleeping on the floor if I had Gared for a pallet,' Brianne said.

'And just what is that supposed to mean?' Leesha asked.

'Don't play dumb, Leesh,' Brianne said with a hint of irritation. 'We're your friends.'

Leesha puffed up. 'If you're insinuating..!'

'Come off the pedestal, Leesha,' Brianne said. 'I know Gared had you last night. I'd hoped you'd be honest with us about it.'

Saira and Mairy gasped, and Leesha's eyes bulged, her face reddening. 'He had no such thing!' she shouted. 'Who told you that?'

'Evin,' Brianne smiled. 'Said Gared's been bragging all day.'

'Then Gared's a ripping liar!' Leesha barked. 'I'm not some tramp, to go around...'

Brianne's face darkened, and Leesha gasped and covered her mouth. 'Oh, Brianne,' she said. 'I'm sorry! I didn't mean...'

'No, I think you did,' Brianne said. 'I think it's the only true thing you've said today.'

She stood and brushed off her skirts, her usual good mood vanished. 'Come on girls, she said. 'Let's go somewhere where the air's cleaner.'

Saira and Mairy looked at each other, then at Leesha, but Brianne was already walking, and they rose quickly to follow. Leesha opened her mouth, but choked, not knowing what to say.

'Leesha!' she heard Bruna cry. She turned to see the old woman bracing on her cane and struggling to rise. With a sad glance at her departing friends, Leesha rushed to aid her.

Leesha was waiting as Gared and Steave came sauntering down the path towards her father's house. They joked and laughed, and their joviality gave Leesha the strength she needed. She gripped her skirts in white-knuckled fists as she strode up to them.

'Leesha!' Steave greeted with a mocking smile. 'How's my soon-to-be daughter today?' He spread his arms wide, as if to sweep her into a hug.

Leesha ignored him, going right up to Gared and slapping him full in the face.

'Hey!' Gared cried.

'Oh ho!' Steave laughed. Leesha fixed him with her mother's best glare, and he put up his hands placatingly.

'I see yuv some talkin' to do,' he said, 'so I'll leave you to it.' He looked at Gared and winked. 'Pleasure has its price,' he advised as he left.

Leesha whirled on Gared, swinging at him again. He caught her wrist and squeezed hard. 'Leesha, stop it!' he demanded.

Leesha ignored the pain in her wrist, slamming her knee hard between his legs. Her thick skirts softened the blow, but it was enough to break his grip and drop him to the ground, clutching his

crotch. Leesha kicked him, but Gared was thick with hard muscle, and his hands protected the one place vulnerable to her strength.

'Leesha, what the Core is the matter with you?' Gared gasped, but it was cut off as she kicked him in the mouth.

Gared growled, and the next time she lifted her foot, he grabbed it and shoved hard, sending her flying backwards. The breath was knocked out of her as she landed on her back, and before she could recover, Gared pounced, catching her arms and pinning her to the ground.

'Have you gone crazy?!' he shouted, as she continued to thrash under him. His face was flushed purple, and his eyes were tearing.

'How could you?' Leesha shrieked. 'Son of a coreling, how could you be so cruel?'

'Night, Leesha, what are you about?' Gared croaked, leaning more heavily on her.

'How could you?' she asked again. 'How could you lie and tell everyone you broke me last night?'

Gared looked genuinely taken aback. 'Who told you that?' he demanded, and Leesha dared to hope that the lie was not his.

'Evin told Brianne,' she said.

'I'll kill that son of the Core,' Gared growled, easing his weight back. 'He promised to keep his mouth shut.'

'So it's true?!' Leesha shrieked. She brought her knee up hard, and Gared howled and rolled off her. She was up and out of his reach before he recovered enough to grasp at her again.

'Why?' she demanded. 'Why would you lie like that?'

'It was just cutter talk,' Gared groaned, 'it dint mean anything.'

Leesha had never spat in her life, but she spat at him. 'Didn't mean anything?!' she screamed. 'You've ruined my life for something that didn't mean anything?!'

Gared got up, and Leesha backed off. He held up his hands and kept his distance.

'Your life isn't ruined,' he said.

'Brianne knows!' Leesha shouted back. 'And Saira and Mairy! The whole village will know by tomorrow!'

'Leesha...' Gared began.

'How many others?' she cut him off.

'What?'

'How many other did you tell, you idiot?!' she screamed.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and looked down. 'Just the other cutters,' he said.

'Night! ALL of them?!' Leesha ran at him, clawing at his face, but he caught her hands.

'Calm down!' Gared shouted. His hands, like two hams, squeezed, and a jolt of pain ran down her arms, bringing her to her senses.

'You're hurting me,' she said with all the calm she could muster.

'That's better,' he said, easing the pressure without letting go. 'Doubt it hurts anywhere near as much as a kick in the seedpods.'

'You deserved it,' Leesha said.

'Suppose I did,' Gared said. 'Now can we talk civilized?'

'If you let go of me,' she said.

Gared frowned, then let go quickly and skittered out of kicking range.

'Will you tell everyone you lied?' Leesha asked.

Gared shook his head. 'Can't do that, Leesh. I'll look a fool.'

'Better that I look a whore?' Leesha countered.

'You ent no whore, Leesh, we's promised. It's not like yur Brianne.'

'Fine,' Leesha said. 'Maybe I'll tell a few lies myself. If your friends teased you before, what do you think they'll say if I tell them you weren't stiff enough to do the deed?'

Gared balled one of his huge fists and raised it slightly. 'Ya don' wanna do that, Leesha. I'm being patient with ya, but if you go spreading lies like that, I swear...'

'But it's fine to lie about me?' Leesha asked.

Won't matter once we're married,' Gared said. 'Everyone will forget.'

'I'm not marrying you,' Leesha said, and suddenly felt a huge weight shift from her.

Gared scowled. 'Not like you have a choice,' he said. 'Even if someone would take ya now, that bookmole Jona or somesuch, I will beat him down. Ent no one in Cutter's Hollow gonna take what's mine.'

'Enjoy the fruits of your lie,' Leesha said, turning away before he saw her tears, 'because I'll give myself to the night before I let you make it a reality.'

 

 

 

It took all of Leesha's strength to keep from breaking down in tears as she prepared supper that night. Every sound from Gared and Steave was a like knife in her heart. She had been tempted by Gared the night before. She had almost let him have his way, knowing full well what it meant. It had hurt to refuse him, but she had thought her virtue was hers to give. She had never imagined that he could take it with but a word, much less that he would.

'Just as well you've been spending so much time with Bruna,' came a whisper at her ear. Leesha whirled to find Elona standing there, smirking at her.

'We wouldn't want you to have a round belly on your wedding day,' Elona said.

Regretting her tea comment from that morning, Leesha opened her mouth to reply, but her mother cackled and whirled away before she could find a word.

Leesha spat in her bowl; Gared and Steave's, too. She felt hollow satisfaction as they ate.

Dinner was a horrid affair; Steave whispering in her mother's ear, and Elona snickering at his words. Gared stared at her the whole time, but Leesha refused to look at him. She kept her eyes on her bowl, stirring numbly like her father beside her.

Only Erny seemed not to have heard Gared's lie. Leesha was thankful for that, but she knew in her heart it could not last. Too many people seemed intent to destroy her with it.

She left the table as soon as she could. Gared kept his seat, but Leesha felt his eyes following her. The moment he retired into the shop, she barred him inside, feeling slightly safer.

Like so many nights before, Leesha cried herself to sleep.

                                                 

 

 

Leesha rose doubting she had ever slept. Her mother had paid Steave another late-night visit, but Leesha felt only numbness as she listened to their grunts over the cacophony of the demons.

Gared, too, caused a thump deep in the night, discovering the door to the house barred. She smiled grimly as he tried the latch a few more times before finally giving up.

Erny came over to kiss the top of her head as she set the porridge on the fire. It was the first time they'd been alone together in days. She wondered what it would do to her already broken father when Gared's lie found his ears. He might have believed her once, but with his wife's betrayal still fresh, Leesha doubted he had much trust left to give.

'Healing the sick again today?' Erny asked. When Leesha nodded, he smiled and said, 'That's good.'

'I'm sorry I haven't had more time for the shop,' Leesha said.

He took hold of her arms and leaned in close, looking her in the eyes. 'People are always more important than paper, Leesha.'

'Even the bad ones?' she asked.

'Even the bad ones,' he confirmed. His smile was pained, but there was neither hesitation nor doubt in his answer. 'Find the worst human being you can, and you'll still find something worse by looking out the window at night.'

Leesha started to cry, and her father pulled her close, rocking her back and forth and stroking her hair. 'I'm proud of you, Leesh,' he whispered. 'Papermaking was my dream. The wards won't fail if you choose another path.'

She hugged him tightly, soaking his shirt with her tears. 'I love you, da,' she said. 'Whatever happens, never doubt that.'

'I never could, sunlight,' he said. 'I'll always love you, as well.'

She held on for a long time; her father the only friend she had left in the world.

She scooted out the door while Gared and Steave were still pulling on their boots. She hoped to avoid everyone on her way to the Holy House, but Gared's friends were waiting just outside. Their greeting was a hail of whistles and catcalls.

'Jus' came by to make sure you and yur mum aren't keeping Gared and Steave abed when they oughta be working!' Ren called. Leesha turned bright red, but said nothing as she pushed past and hurried down the road. Their laughter cut at her back.

She didn't think she was imagining it; the way people stared and broke into whispers as she passed. She hurried to the security of the Holy House, but when she arrived, Stefny blocked the door, her nostrils flaring as if Leesha stunk of the lye her father used to make paper.

'What are you doing?' Leesha asked. 'Let me pass. I'm here to help Bruna.'

Stefny shook her head. 'You'll not taint this sacred place with your sin,' she sneered.

Leesha pulled herself up to her full height, taller than Stefny by inches, but she still felt like a mouse before a cat. 'I have committed no sin,' she said.

'Hah!' Stefny laughed. 'The whole town knows what you and Gared have been up to in the night. I had hopes for you, girl, but it seems you're your mother's daughter after all.'

'What's all this?' came Bruna's hoarse rasp before Leesha could reply.

Stefny turned, filled with haughty pride, and looked down at the old Herb Gatherer. 'This girl is a whore, and I won't have her in the Creator's house.'

'You won't have?' Bruna asked. 'Are you the Creator now?'

'Do not blaspheme in this place, old woman,' Stefny said. 'His words are written for all to see.' She held up the leather-bound copy of the Canon she carried everywhere. 'Fornicators and adulterers keep the plague upon us, and that sums this slut and her mother well.'

'And where is your proof of her crime?' Bruna asked.

Stefny smiled. 'Gared has boasted their sin to any who would listen,' she said.

Bruna growled, and lashed out suddenly, striking Stefny on the head with her staff and knocking her to the ground. 'You would condemn a girl with no more proof than a boy's boast?' she shrieked. 'Boys' bragging isn't worth the breath that carries it, and you know it well!'

'Everyone knows her mother is the town whore,' Stefny sneered. A trickle of blood ran down her temple. 'Why should the pup be different from the bitch?'

Bruna thrust her staff into Stefny's shoulder, making her cry out in pain.

'Hey there!' Smitt called, rushing over. 'Enough of that!'

Tender Michel was hot on his heels. 'This is a Holy House, not some Angierian tavern...'

'Women's business is what this is, and you'll stay out of it, if you know what's good for you!' Bruna snapped, taking the wind from their sails. She looked back to Stefny. 'Tell them, or shall I lay bare your sin as well?' she hissed.

'I have no sin, hag!' Stefny said.

'I've delivered every child in this village,' Bruna replied too quietly for the men to hear, 'and despite the rumours, I see quite well when things are as close as a babe in my hands.'

Stefny blanched, and turned to her husband and the Tender. 'Stay out of this!' she called.

'The Core I will!' Smitt cried. He grabbed Bruna's staff and pulled it off of his wife. 'See here, woman,' he told Bruna. 'Herb Gatherer or no, you can't just go around hitting whomever you please!'

'Oh, but your wife can go around condemning whomever she pleases?' Bruna snapped. She yanked her staff from his hands and clonked him on the head with it.

Smitt staggered back, rubbing his head. 'All right,' he said, 'I tried being nice.'

Usually, Smitt said that just before rolling up his sleeves and hurling someone bodily from his tavern. He wasn't a tall man, but his squat frame was powerful, and he'd had plenty of experience in dealing with drunken cutters over the years.

Bruna was no thick muscled cutter, but she didn't appear the least bit intimidated. She stood her ground as Smitt stormed towards her.

'Fine!' she cried. 'Throw me out! Mix the herbs yourself! You and Stefny heal the ones that vomit blood and catch demon fever! Deliver your own babies while you're at it! Brew your own cures! Make your own flamesticks! What do you need to put up with the hag for?'

'What, indeed?' Darsy asked. Everyone stared at her as she strode up to Smitt.

'I can mix herbs and deliver babies as well as she can,' Darsy said.

'Hah!' Bruna said. Even Smitt looked at her doubtfully.

Darsy ignored her. 'I say it's time for a change,' she said. 'I may not have a hundred years of experience like Bruna, but I won't go around bullying everyone, either.'

Smitt scratched his chin, and glanced over to Bruna, who cackled.

'Go on,' she dared. 'I could use the rest. But don't come begging to my hut when the sow stitches what she should have cut, and cuts what she should have stitched.'

'Perhaps Darsy deserves a chance,' Smitt said.

'Settled, then!' Bruna said, thumping her staff on the floor. 'Be sure to tell the rest of the town who to go to for their cures. I'll thank you for the peace at my hut!'

She turned to Leesha. 'Come, girl, help an old crone walk home.' She took Leesha's arm, and the two of them turned for the door.

As they passed Stefny, though, Bruna stopped, pointing her staff at her and whispering for only the three women to hear. 'You say one more word against this girl, or suffer others to, and the whole town will know your shame.'

Stefhy's look of terror stayed with Leesha the whole way back to Bruna's hut.

Once they were inside, Bruna whirled on her.

'Well, girl? Is it true?' she asked.

'No!' Leesha cried. 'I mean, we almost... but I told him to stop and he did!'

It sounded lame and implausible, and she knew it. Terror gripped her. Bruna was the only one who stood up for her. She thought she would die if the old woman thought her a liar, too.

'You...you can check me, if you want,' she said, her cheeks colouring. She looked at the floor, and squinted back tears.

Bruna grunted, and shook her head. 'I believe you, girl.'

'Why?' Leesha asked, almost pleading. 'Why would Gared lie like that?'

'Because boys get praise for the same things that get girls run out of town,' Bruna said. 'Because men are ruled by what others think of their dangling worms. Because he's a petty, hurtful little wood-brained shit with no concept of what he had.'

Leesha started to cry again. She felt like she'd been crying forever. Surely a body could not hold so many tears.

Bruna opened her arms and Leesha fell into them. 'There, there, girl,' she said. 'Get it all out, and then we'll figure out what to do.'

                                                 

 

There was silence in Bruna's hut while Leesha made tea. It was still early in the day, but she felt utterly drained. How could she hope to live the rest of her life in Cutter's Hollow?

Fort Rizon is only a week away, she thought. Thousands of people. No one would hear of Gared's lies there. I could find Klarissa and...

And what? She knew it was just a fantasy. Even if she could find a Messenger to take her, the thought of a week and more on the open road made her blood run cold, and the Rizonas were farmers, with little use for letters or papermaking. She could find a new husband perhaps, but the thought of tying her fate to another man gave little comfort.

She brought Bruna her tea, hoping the old woman had an answer, but the Herb Gatherer said nothing, sipping quietly as Leesha knelt beside her chair.

'What am I going to do?' she asked. 'I can't hide here forever.'

'You could,' Bruna said. 'Whatever Darsy boasts, she hasn't retained a fraction of what I've taught her, and I haven't taught her a fraction of what I know. The folk'11 be back soon enough, begging my help. Stay, and a year from now the people of Cutter's Hollow won't know how they ever got along without you.'

'My mother will never allow that,' Leesha said. 'She's still set on me marrying Gared.'

Bruna nodded. 'She would be. She's never forgiven herself for not bearing Steave's sons. She's determined that you correct her mistakes.'

'I won't do it,' Leesha said. 'I'll give myself to the night before I let Gared touch me.' She was shocked to realize that she meant every word.

'That's very brave of you, dearie,' Bruna said, but there was disdain in her tone. 'So brave to throw your life away over a boy's lie and fear of your mother.'

'I am not afraid of her!' Leesha said.

'Just of telling her you won't marry the boy who destroyed your reputation?'

Leesha was quiet a long time before nodding. 'You're right,' she said. Bruna grunted.

Leesha stood. 'I suppose I had best get it over with,' she said. Bruna said nothing.

At the door, Leesha stopped, and looked back.

'Bruna?' she asked. The old woman grunted again. 'What was Stefhy's sin?'

Bruna sipped her tea. 'Smitt has three beautiful children,' she said.

'Four,' Leesha corrected.

Bruna shook her head. 'Stefny has four,' she said. 'Smitt has three.'

Leesha's eyes widened. 'But how could that be?' she asked. 'Stefny never leaves the tavern, but to go to the Holy...' she gasped.

'Even Holy Men are men,' Bruna said.

Leesha walked home slowly, trying to choose words, but in the end she knew that phrasing was meaningless. All that mattered was that she would not marry Gared, and her mother's reaction.

It was late in the day when she walked into the house. Gared and Steave would be back from the woods soon. She needed the confrontation over with before they arrived.

'Well, you've really made a mess of things now,' her mother said acidly as she walked in. 'My daughter, the town tramp.'

'I'm not a tramp,' Leesha said. 'Gared has been spreading lies.'

'Don't you dare blame him because you couldn't keep your legs closed!' Elona said.

'I didn't sleep with him,' Leesha said.

'Hah!' Elona barked. 'Don't take me for a fool, Leesha. I was young once, too.'

'You've been 'young' every night this week,' Leesha said, 'and Gared is still a liar.'

Elona slapped her, knocking her to the floor. 'Don't you dare speak to me like that, you little whore!' she screeched.

Leesha lay still, knowing that if she moved, her mother would hit her again. Her cheek felt like it was on fire.

Seeing her daughter humbled, Elona took a deep breath, and seemed to calm. 'It's no matter,' she said. 'I've always thought you needed a knocking from the pedestal your idiot father put you on. You'll marry Gared soon enough, and folk will tire of whispering eventually.'

Leesha steeled herself. 'I'm not marrying him,' she said. 'He's a liar, and I won't do it.'

'Oh, yes you will,' Elona said.

'I won't,' Leesha said, the words giving her strength as she rose to her feet. 'I won't say the words, and there's nothing you can do to make me.'

'We'll just see about that,' Elona said, snatching off her belt. It was a thick leather strap with a metal buckle that she always wore loosely around her waist. Leesha thought she wore it just to have it at hand to beat her.

She came at Leesha, who shrieked and retreated into the kitchen before realizing it was the last place she should have gone. There was only one way in or out.

She screamed as the buckle cut through her dress and into her back. Elona swung again, and Leesha threw herself at her mother in desperation. As they tumbled to the floor, she heard the door open, and Steave's voice. At the same time, there was a questioning call from the shop.

Elona made good use of the distraction, punching her daughter full in the face. She was on her feet in an instant, the belt whipping into Leesha, drawing another scream from her lips.

'What in the Core is going on?!' came a cry from the doorway. Leesha looked up to see her father struggling to get into the kitchen, blocked by Steave's meaty arm.

'Get out of my way!' Erny cried.

'This is between them,' Steave said with a grin.

'This is my home you're a guest in!' Erny cried. 'Get out of the way!'

When Steave did not budge, Erny punched him.

Everyone froze. It wasn't clear that Steave had felt the punch at all. He broke the sudden silence with a laugh, casually shoving Erny and sending him flying into the common room.

'You ladies settle yur differences in private,' Steave said with a wink, pulling the kitchen door shut as Leesha's mother rounded on her once more.

Leesha wept quietly in the back room of her father's shop, daubing gently at her cuts and bruises. Had she the proper herbs, she could have done more, but cold water and cloth were all she had.

She had fled into the shop right after her ordeal, locking the doors from the inside, and ignoring even the gentle knocks of her father. When the wounds were clean and the deepest cuts bound, Leesha curled up on the floor, shaking with pain and shame.

'You'll marry Gared the day you bleed,' Elona had promised, 'or we'll do this every day until you do.'

Leesha knew she meant it, and knew Gared's rumour would have many people taking her mother's side and insisting they wed, ignoring Leesha's bruises like they had many times before.

I won't do it, Leesha promised herself. I'll give myself to the night first.

Just then, a cramp wracked her guts. Leesha groaned, and felt dampness on her thighs. Terrified, she swabbed herself with a clean cloth, praying fervently, but there, like a cruel joke of the Creator, was blood.

Leesha shrieked. She heard an answering call from the house.

There was a pounding at the door. 'Leesha, are you all right?' her father called.

Leesha didn't answer, staring at the blood in horror. Was it only two days ago she had been praying for it to come? Now she looked at it like it had come from the Core.

'Leesha, open the door this instant, or you'll have night to pay!' her mother screeched.

Leesha ignored her.

'If you don't listen to yur mother and open this door before I count to ten, Leesha, I swear I will break it down!' Steave boomed.

Fear gripped Leesha as Steave began to count. She had no doubt he could and would splinter the heavy wooden door with a single blow. She ran to the outer door, throwing it open.

It was almost dark. The sky was deep purple, and the last sliver of sun would dip below the horizon in mere minutes.

'Five!' Steve called. 'Four! Three!'

Leesha sucked in her breath and ran from the house.

6

The Secrets of Fire

319 AR

 

 

Leesha lifted her skirts high and ran for all she was worth, but it was over a mile to Bruna's hut, and she knew deep down she could never make it in time. Her family's cries rang out behind her, the sound muted by the pounding of her heart and the thud of her feet.

There was a sharp stitch in her side, and her back and thighs were on fire from Elona's belt. She stumbled, and scraped her hands catching herself. She forced herself upright, ignoring the pain and driving forward on pure will.

Halfway to the Herb Gatherer, the light faded, and the new night beckoned the demons from the Core. Dark mists began to rise, coalescing into harsh alien form.

Leesha did not want to die. She knew that now; too late. But even if she wished to turn back, home was further away now than Bruna's hut, and there was nothing in between. Erny had purposefully built his house away from the others, after complaints about the smell of his chemicals. She had no choice but to go on, heading towards Bruna's hut at the woods' edge, where the wood demons gathered in force.

A few corelings swiped at her as she passed, but they were still insubstantial, and found no purchase. She felt cold as their claws passed through her breast, like she had been touched by a ghost, but there was no pain, and she did not slow.

There were no flame demons this close to the woods. Wood demons killed flame demons on sight. Firespit could set a wood demon alight, even if normal fire could not. A wind demon solidified in front of her, but Leesha dodged around it, and the creature's spindly legs were not equipped to pursue her afoot. It shrieked at her as she ran on.

She glimpsed a light ahead; the lantern that hung by Bruna's front door. She put on a last burst of speed, crying out, 'Bruna! Bruna, please open your door!'

There was no reply, and the door remained shut, but the way was clear, and she dared to think she might make it.

But then an eight-foot wood demon stepped in her path.

And hope died.

The demon roared, showing rows of teeth like kitchen knives. It made Steave look puny by comparison, all thick twisted sinew covered by knobbed, bark-like armour.

Leesha drew a ward in the air before her, silently praying that the Creator grant her a quick death. Tales said that demons consumed the soul as well as the body. She supposed she was about to find out.

The demon stalked towards her, closing the gap steadily, waiting to see which way she would try to run. Leesha knew she should do just that, but even had she not been paralyzed with fear, there was nowhere to run. The coreling stood between her and the only hope of succour.

There was a creak as Bruna's front door opened, spilling more light into the yard. The demon turned as the old hag shuffled into view.

'Bruna!' Leesha cried. 'Stay behind the wards! There's a wood demon in the yard!'

'My eyes aren't what they used to be, dearie,' Bruna replied, 'but I'm not about to miss an ugly beast like that.'

She took another step forward, crossing her wards. Leesha screamed as the demon roared and launched itself towards the old woman.

Bruna stood her ground as the demon charged, dropping to all fours and moving with terrifying speed. She reached into her shawl, and pulled forth a small object, touching it to the flame of the lantern by the door. Leesha saw it catch fire.

The demon was nearly upon her when Bruna drew back her arm and threw. The object burst apart, covering the wood demon in liquid fire. The blaze lit up the night, and even from yards away, Leesha felt the flash of heat on her face.

The demon screamed, its momentum lost as it fell to the ground, rolling in the dust in a desperate attempt to extinguish itself. The fire clung to it tenaciously, leaving the coreling thrashing and howling on the ground.

'Best come inside, Leesha,' Bruna advised as it burned, 'lest you catch a chill.'

Leesha sat wrapped in one of Bruna's shawls, staring at the steam rising off tea she had no desire to drink. The wood demon's cries had gone on a long time before reducing to a whimper and fading away. She imagined the smouldering ruin in the yard, and thought she might retch.

Bruna sat nearby in her rocking chair, humming softly as she deftly worked a pair of knitting needles. Leesha could not understand her calm. She felt she might never be calm again.

The old Herb Gatherer had examined her wordlessly, grunting occasionally as she salved and bandaged Leesha's wounds, few of

which, it was clear, had come from her flight. She had also shown Leesha how to wad and insert clean cloth to stem the flow of blood between her legs, and warned her to change it frequently.

But now Bruna sat back as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened, the clicks of her knitting and the crackle of the fire the only sounds in the room.

'What did you do to that demon?' Leesha asked, when she could stand it no longer.

'Liquid demonfire,' Bruna said. 'Difficult to make. Very dangerous. But it's the only thing I know that can stop a wood demon. Woodies are immune to normal flames, but liquid demonfire burns as hot as firespit.'

'I didn't know anything could kill a demon,' Leesha said.

'I told you before, girl, that Herb Gatherers guard the science of the old world,' Bruna said. She grunted and spat on the floor. 'A scant few of us, anyway. I may be the last to know that infernal recipe.'

'Why not share it?' Leesha said. 'We could be free of the demons forever.'

Bruna cackled. 'Free?' she asked. 'Free to burn the village to the ground, perhaps. Free to set the woods on fire. No heat known can do more than tickle a flame demon, or give a rock demon pause. No fire can burn higher than a wind demon can soar, or set a lake or pond alight to reach a water demon.'

'But still,' Leesha pressed, 'what you did tonight shows how useful it could be. You saved my life.'

Bruna nodded. 'We keep the knowledge of the old world for the day it will be needed again, but that knowledge comes with a great responsibility. If the histories of the ancient wars of man tell us anything, it's that men cannot be trusted with the secrets of fire.

'That's why Herb Gatherers are always women,' she went on. 'Men   cannot   hold   such  power  without  using   it.   I'll   sell thundersticks and festival crackers to Smitt, dearly, but I won't tell him how they're made.'

'Darsy's a woman,' Leesha said, 'but you never taught her, either.'

Bruna snorted. 'Even if that cow was smart enough to mix the chemics without setting herself on fire, she's practically a man in her thinking. I'd no sooner teach her to brew demonfire or flame powder than I would Steave.'

'They're going to come looking for me tomorrow,' Leesha said.

Bruna pointed at Leesha's cooling tea. 'Drink,' she ordered. 'We'll deal with tomorrow when it comes.'

Leesha did as she was told, noting the sour taste of tampweed and the bitterness of skyflower as a wave of dizziness wash over her. Distantly, she was aware of dropping her cup.

Morning brought pain with it. Bruna put stiffroot in Leesha's tea to dull the ache of her bruises and the cramps that clutched her abdomen, but the mixture played havoc with her senses. She felt as if she were floating above the cot she lay upon, and yet her limbs felt leaden.

Erny arrived not long after dawn. He burst into tears at the sight of her, kneeling by the cot and clutching her tightly. 'I thought I'd lost you,' he sobbed.

Leesha reached out weakly, running her fingers through his thinning hair. 'It's not your fault,' she whispered.

'I should have stood up to your mother long ago,' he said.

'That's undersaid,' Bruna grunted from her knitting. 'No man should let his wife walk over him so.'

Erny nodded, having no retort. His face screwed up, and more tears appeared behind his spectacles.

There was a pounding at the door. Bruna looked at Erny, who went to open it.

'Is she here?' Leesha heard her mother's voice, and the cramps doubled. She felt too weak to fight anymore. She couldn't even find the strength to stand.

A moment later Elona appeared, Gared and Steave at her heels like a pair of hounds.

'There you are, you worthless girl!' Elona cried. 'Do you know the fright you gave me, running off into the night like that? We've got half the village out looking for you! I should beat you within an inch of your life!'