widened, and she felt him go tense.
‘Why does that terrify you more than facing down demons?’ she asked. ‘Am I so repulsive?’
The Painted Man shook his head. ‘Of course not,’ he said.
‘Then what?’ she asked. ‘I won’t keep you from your war.’
The Painted Man was quiet for some time. ‘Two would soon become three,’ he said at last, letting go her hands.
‘Is that so terrible?’ Leesha asked.
The Painted Man took a deep breath, moving away to another table, avoiding her eyes. ‘That morning when I wrestled the demon …’ he said.
‘I remember,’ Leesha prompted, when he did not go on.
‘The demon tried to escape back to the Core,’ he said.
‘And tried to take you with it,’ Leesha said. ‘I saw you both go misty, and slip beneath the ground. I was terrified.’
The Painted Man nodded. ‘No more than me,’ he said. ‘The path to the Core opened up to me, calling me, pulling me down.’
‘What does that have to do with us?’ Leesha asked.
‘Because it wasn’t the demon, it was me,’ the Painted Man said. ‘I took control of the transition; I dragged the demon back up to the sun. Even now, I can feel the pull of the Core. If I let myself, I could slip down into its infernal depths with the other corelings.’
‘The wards …’ Leesha began.
‘It’s not the wards,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I’m telling you it’s me. I’ve absorbed too much of their magic over the years. I’m not even human anymore. Who knows what kind of monster would spring from my seed?’
Leesha went to him, taking his face in her hands as she had that morning they made love. ‘You’re a good man,’ she said, her eyes welling with tears. ‘Whatever the magic has done to you, it hasn’t changed that. Nothing else matters.’
She leaned in to kiss him, but he had hardened his heart to her, and held her back.
‘It matters to me,’ he said. ‘Until I know what I am, I can’t be with you, or anyone.’
‘Then I’ll discover what you are,’ Leesha said. ‘I swear it.’
‘Leesha,’ he said, ‘you can’t …’
‘Don’t you tell me what I can’t do!’ she barked. ‘I’ve had enough of that from others to last a lifetime.’
He held up his hands in submission. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
Leesha sniffed, and closed her hands over his. ‘Don’t be sorry,’ she said. ‘This is a condition to diagnose and cure, like any other.’
‘I’m not sick,’ the Painted Man said.
She looked at him sadly. ‘I know that,’ she said, ‘but it seems you don’t.’
Out in the Krasian desert, there was a stirring on the horizon. Lines of men appeared, thousand upon thousand, swathed in loose black cloth drawn about their faces to ward off the stinging sand. The vanguard was composed of two mounted groups, the smaller riding light, quick horses, and the larger upon powerful humped beasts suited to desert crossings. They were followed by columns of footmen, and they, in turn, by a seemingly endless train of carts and supplies. Each warrior carried a spear etched with an intricate pattern of wards.
At their head rode a man dressed all in white, on top of a sleek charger of the same colour. He raised a hand, and the horde behind him halted and stood in silence to gaze upon the ruins of Anoch Sun.
Unlike the wood and iron spears of his warriors, this man carried an ancient weapon made of a bright, unknown metal. He was Ahmann asu Hoshkamin am’Jardir, but his people had not used that name in years.
They called him Shar’Dama Ka, the Deliverer.
Special thanks to all the people who test-read this book: Dani, Myke, Amelia, Neil, Matt, Joshua, Steve, Mom, Dad, Trisha, Netta & Cobie. Your advice and encouragement made it possible for me to turn a hobby into something more. And to my editors, Liz & Emma, who took a chance on a new author and challenged me to exceed even my own high standards. I could never have done it without you.
THE DESERT SPEAR
PETER V. BRETT
For Dani and Cassie.
Contents
| Title Page | |
| Dedication | |
| Map | |
| Prologue: Mind Demons | |
| Section I: Victory Without Honor | |
| Chapter 1: Fort Rizon | |
| Chapter 2: Abban | |
| Chapter 3: Chin | |
| Chapter 4: Losing the Bido |
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