like a rotten tooth. As the villagers stared open-mouthed, a weak ray of sun broke from the overcast sky, striking it. Even in the mud, the length began to smoke, sizzling away the fresh droplets of drizzle that struck it.
In a moment, the rock demon’s horn burst into flame.
‘Every demon can be killed!’ the Painted Man cried, pulling a warded spear from Twilight Dancer and throwing it to stick in the burning horn. There was a flash, and the horn exploded in a burst of sparks like a festival flamework.
‘Merciful Creator,’ Jona said, drawing a ward in the air. Many of the villagers followed suit.
The Painted Man crossed his arms. ‘I can make weapons that bite the corelings,’ he said, ‘but they are worthless without arms to wield them, so I ask again, who will stand with me?’
There was a long moment of silence. Then, ‘I will.’ The Painted Man turned, surprised to see Rojer come and stand by his side.
‘And I,’ Yon Gray said, stepping forward. He leaned heavily on his cane, but there was hard determination in his eyes. ‘More’n seventy years I’ve watched ’em come and take us, one by one. If tonight’s t’be my last, then I’ll spit in a coreling’s eye afore the end.’
The other Hollowers stood dumbfounded, but then Gared stepped forward.
‘Gared, you idiot, what are you doing?’ Elona demanded, grabbing his arm, but the giant cutter shrugged off her grip. He reached out tentatively and pulled the warded spear free from the ground. He looked hard at the wards running along its surface.
‘My da was cored last night,’ he said in a low, angry tone. He clutched the weapon and looked up at the Painted Man, showing his teeth. ‘I aim t’take his due.’
His words spurred others. One by one and in groups, some of them in fear, some in anger, and many more in despair, the people of Cutter’s Hollow rose up to meet the coming night.
‘Fools,’ Elona spat, and stormed off.
‘You didn’t need to do that,’ Leesha said, her arms wrapped around the Painted Man’s waist as Twilight Dancer raced up the road to Bruna’s hut.
‘What good is a mad obsession, if it doesn’t help people?’ he replied.
‘I was angry this morning,’ Leesha said. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘You meant it,’ the Painted Man assured her. ‘And you weren’t wrong. I’ve been so occupied with what I was fighting against, I’d forgotten what I was fighting for. All my life I’ve dreamed of nothing but killing demons, but what good is it to kill corelings out in the wild, and ignore the ones that hunt men every night?’
They pulled up at the hut, and the Painted Man leapt down and held a hand out to her. Leesha smiled, and let him assist her dismount. ‘The house is still intact,’ she said. ‘Everything we need should be inside.’
They went into the hut. Leesha meant to head straight for Bruna’s stores, but the familiarity of the place struck her hard, and she realized she was never going to see Bruna again; never hear her cursing or scold her for spitting on the floor, never again tap her wisdom or laugh at her ribaldry. That part of her life was over.
But there was no time for tears, so Leesha shoved the feelings aside and strode to the pharmacy, picking jars and bottles and shoving some into her apron, handing others to the Painted Man, who packed them quickly and loaded them on Twilight Dancer.
‘I don’t see why you needed me for this,’ he said. ‘I should be warding weapons. We only have a few hours.’
She handed him the last of the herbs, and when they were safely stowed, led him to the centre of the room, pulling up the carpet, revealing a trapdoor. The Painted Man opened it for her, revealing wooden steps leading down into darkness.
‘Should I fetch a candle?’ he asked.
‘Absolutely not!’ Leesha barked.
The Painted Man shrugged. ‘I can see well enough,’ he said.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap,’ she said. She reached into the many pockets of her apron, producing two small stoppered vials. She poured the contents of one into the other and shook it, producing a soft glow. Holding the vial aloft, she led them down the musty steps into a dusty cellar. The walls were packed soil, wards painted onto the support beams. The small space was filled with storage crates, shelves of bottles and jars, and large barrels.
Leesha went to a shelf and lifted a box of flamesticks. ‘Wood demons can be hurt by fire,’ she mused. ‘What about a strong dissolvent?’
‘I don’t know,’ the Painted Man said. Leesha tossed him the box and got down on her knees, rummaging through some bottles on a low shelf.
‘We’ll find out,’ she said, passing back a large glass bottle full of clear liquid. The stopper was glass as well, held tightly in place with a twisted net of thin wire.
‘Grease and oil will steal their footing,’ Leesha muttered, still rummaging. ‘And burn hot and bright, even in the rain …’ She handed him a pair of cured clay jugs, sealed in wax.
More items followed. Thundersticks, normally used to blow free unruly tree stumps, and a box of Bruna’s celebration flamework: festival crackers, flamewhistles, and tossbangs.
Finally, at the back of the cellar, she brought them to a large water barrel.
‘Open it,’ Leesha told the Painted Man. ‘Gently.’
He did so, finding four ceramic jugs bobbing softly in the water. He turned to Leesha and looked at her curiously.
‘That,’ she said, ‘is liquid demonfire.’
Twilight Dancer’s swift, warded hooves had them down to Leesha’s father’s house in minutes. Again, Leesha was struck hard by nostalgia, and again, she shoved the sentiment aside. How many hours until sunset? Not enough. That was sure.
The children and the elderly had begun to arrive, gathering in the yard. Brianne and Mairy had already put them to work collecting tools. Mairy’s eyes were hollow as she watched the children. It had not been easy to convince her to leave her two children at the Holy House, but at last reason prevailed. Their father was staying, and if things went badly, the other children would need their mother.
Elona stormed out of the house as they arrived.
‘Is this your idea?’ she demanded. ‘Turning my house into a barn?’
Leesha pushed right past, the Painted Man at her side. Elona had no choice but to fall in behind them as they entered the house. ‘Yes, Mother,’ she said. ‘It was my idea. We may not have space for everyone, but the children and elderly who have avoided the flux thus far should be safe here, whatever else happens.’
‘I won’t have it!’ Elona barked.
Leesha
