The Daylight War (9 page)

Twilight Dancer was lowing in pain when they returned to the stable, tongue hanging from his mouth. His feed was untouched, and the only water he had drunk was what they had poured down his throat. He laboured for breath.

With a single blow, the mimic demon had broken the great stallion’s ribs, puncturing Creator only knew what inside, and launching him through the air. Dancer had struck a tree, breaking his back, and the fall had shattered his legs. Arlen had saved Dancer’s life with his magic, but without further help he would never walk again, much less run.

But Arlen had suffused himself with so much magic his wards glowed of their own accord, lighting the stable bright as day. He seemed like the Creator Himself as he reached for one of Dancer’s legs, pulling the broken bones into proper position and tracing wards on the skin around the fractures.

Dancer whinnied in pain as the bones and sinews knitted back together, a terrible sound Renna could hardly bear. Arlen’s glow lessened a bit with each healing, and there were many. Soon his wards dimmed, and then winked out entirely. Still he worked, his sensitive fingers running over the horse’s body, probing for places to focus his power. Dancer’s chest inflated as the ribs healed, and he began to breathe normally. Renna sighed with relief until Arlen gave a slight groan and collapsed.

He was shivering when she carried him up to bed, his breath coming in short gasps. She could barely hear his heartbeat, and the glow of his magic had faded so much she thought it might wink out at any moment. She stripped and slipped into bed next to him, clutching him tight and willing some of the magic she had absorbed into him, but it seemed to make no difference.

‘Don’t you die on me, Arlen Bales,’ she said. ‘Not after all we been through.’

Arlen did not respond, and Renna stood, brushing back tears as she paced the room, her mind racing.

Needs
magic
,
she thought.
Go
and
get
him
some.

She had her knife in hand in an instant, grabbing her cloak and running out the door without bothering to pull her clothes back on. With the Cloak of Unsight around her, she was invisible to the corelings, and quickly found a field demon prowling not far from the wards.

She cast the cloak aside, and before it knew she was there, she had leapt on the demon’s back, pulling its chin up with one hand while she cut its throat. She took a bucket from the stables, draining the creature’s foul black ichor, rich with glowing magic.

Her naked skin was soon covered in the stuff, and she could feel her blackstem wards pulling at the power. She felt strong beyond belief, moving like wind back to Arlen’s side. She laid him on the floor and dumped the reeking bucket over him, watching the wards on his skin brighten and absorb the magic, then dim as his internal aura brightened. He began to breathe easier, and Renna fell to her knees.

‘Thank the Creator,’ she whispered, drawing a ward in the air.

The gesture was an instinctive one, but so similar to the way Arlen healed Dancer. If only she had been able to do the same for him.

She looked to the bucket, a slimy piece of demon gut clinging to its lip. She scooped the black thing up in her hand, poking at it like jelly. It stank, and her stomach heaved. She had to breathe deeply to keep her supper down.

He’ll pull away, I let him
,
she thought.
Strong
as
he
is, he can’t do this alone. Got to keep the pace, or I’ll be left behind again next time he’s pulled into the Core.

‘Done thinkin’,’ she muttered.

She held her breath, and put the meat in her mouth.

R
enna woke not long after dawn. Arlen slept peacefully now, and she moved carefully so as not to wake him as she washed the dried gore from her skin.

With the curtains drawn tight, Renna still felt charged with power, but as soon as she went out into the sunlight, that strength burned away. She
stretched experimentally, seeking some evidence that her disgusting meal had had an effect on her. If there was a change, she couldn’t sense it. Arlen had eaten demon meat exclusively for months to achieve his level of power. Renna’s stomach churned at the thought of even another nibble.

She moved to the stable, brushing down Twilight Dancer and giving him his morning feed. The stallion looked hale, showing no sign that just two nights ago he had been moments from death. Even his scars were faded things, barely visible.

When she was done, she went out into the field, harvesting potatoes and vegetables from the wild crop, enough to make a proper breakfast for once. She had it ready when Arlen stumbled into the kitchen looking haggard, as if he hadn’t slept at all.

‘Smells like Heaven in here,’ he said.

‘Ent got eggs or proper bread, but I caught a rabbit in the fields, so there’s meat,’ Renna said, spooning the stew into a pair of wooden bowls they took out into the taproom.

When they sat, Arlen looked at his bowl for a moment, then put his head in his hands. ‘Might’ve overdone it last night.’

Renna snorted. ‘That’s undersaid.’

Arlen puffed his cheeks and blew out a slow breath. ‘Regrettin’ all that poteen now.’

‘Eat,’ Renna ordered. ‘Your stomach will calm with something in it. And best drink all the water you can stand, sweet or not.’ Arlen nodded and soon was eating voraciously, his bowl quickly emptied.

‘There any more?’ he asked, and Renna started. She’d been so busy watching him eat, she hadn’t touched her own food.

‘Take mine.’ She slid the bowl to him and took his empty one. ‘I’ll get another.’ She was pleased to see his second helping emptied by the time she sat back down.

‘Feeling better?’ she asked.

‘Feel human,’ Arlen said, a small smile tugging the corner of his mouth. ‘Been a while.’

‘Can rest up another day,’ Renna said. ‘Charge you up again tonight.’

Arlen shook his head. ‘Miles to go today, Ren. Got one stop this afternoon and then it’s straight on to the Hollow fast as we can manage.’

‘What stop?’ Renna asked.

Arlen smiled again, this time wider, with a glitter to his eyes. ‘Need to pick you a proper promise gift.’

Arlen set a strong pace as they headed down the Messenger road. Renna could see it took a toll on him after a few hours, but he steadfastly refused to ride.

‘Dancer needs the rest more’n me,’ he said.

The sun was well past its high point when they came to a fork in the road and Arlen turned onto the less travelled way, little more than a bridle path heading into the wild hilly plain.

‘What’s off this way?’ she asked.

‘Rancher I know,’ Arlen said. ‘Owes me a favour.’ Renna waited for more, but nothing was forthcoming.

It was an hour’s walk before the ranch came in sight. There were three barns, each with its own wards in addition to the posts set around the exercise pen and yard. Wide grazing areas had been warded as well.

A boy appeared on the roof of the closest barn, holding a short bow with an arrow nocked and pointed at them.

‘Whozzat?’ he called.

Renna crouched at the sight, ready to dodge left or right if the boy should shoot. She gripped the familiar bone handle of her father’s knife, though it would do her no good here. She’d hated Harl Tanner, but always felt safe when touching the knife she’d used to kill him.

Arlen seemed unconcerned as he shouted back to the boy
,
‘Someone who’s going to regret not letting you get et by that wood demon, Nik Stallion, you don’t put down that bow and fetch your da.’

‘Messenger!’ Nik shouted, lowering the bow and waving. ‘Ma! Pa! Messenger’s come, and he’s brought Dancer!’

The boy slid down the roof to the porch awning, swinging easily to the ground from its lip. He ran to the garden and pulled up a couple of carrots before hurrying over to them, staring at Twilight Dancer in wonder. ‘He’s grown big as a barn!’

He eased carefully up to the great stallion, holding out the carrots. ‘Easy, boy, it’s me, Nik. You remember, don’t you?’ Twilight Dancer nickered, taking the carrots, but the boy stayed tense, ready to run.

Renna couldn’t understand his tension. If the boy knew Dancer, he should know the horse was gentle as the dawn. ‘He ent gonna kick or bite you, boy.’

Nik turned and seemed about to say something, but he paused mid-breath, noticing Renna for the first time. His eyes roamed her body, and she wasn’t sure if he was looking at her blackstem wards or the flesh they were painted on. She didn’t much care what he saw, but it was rude, and she put her hands on her hips and gave him a glare to remind him of his manners. The boy jumped and looked away so quickly Renna had to stifle a laugh.

Nik turned to Arlen, blushing fiercely. ‘You
tamed
him?’

Arlen laughed. ‘Hardly. Dancer’s still the meanest horse alive, but he only bites and kicks corelings now.’

A low whistle came from behind them, and Renna whirled. Without thinking, her hand found the knife handle again. She took it away quickly, hoping no one had noticed.

And
I
meant
to
teach
young
Nik
his
manners
.

The man who approached showed no sign that he had seen. Like the boy, he only had eyes for the horse at first. He approached calmly, giving Dancer time to get used to his presence. The stallion snorted and stamped a bit, but accepted his touch.

‘He
has
grown,’ the man said, running his hands over Dancer’s heavy flanks. He was tall and lean, with a thick but close-cropped beard. His brown hair was long and braided in back. ‘Must be two hands taller than his sire, and old Rockslide’s bigger’n any horse I ever saw.’ He picked up one of the stallion’s feet. ‘Could do with a shoeing, though.’

The man looked up at them at last, and like the boy he let his eyes range over Renna, examining her as if she were a horse. A low growl formed at the back of her throat, and the man gave a start when his eyes finally met hers and saw her glare.

Arlen stepped between them. ‘Just a look, Ren,’ he murmured. ‘These’re good folk.’

Renna gritted her teeth. Much as she hated to admit it, he was right about what the magic did to a person, even in the day. Passion came quick to her now. She took a deep breath and let her anger fall away.

Arlen nodded and turned to the rancher. ‘Renna Tanner, this here’s Jon Stallion and his boy Nik. Jon breaks and breeds wild Angierian mustang.’

‘
Catches
and breeds, anyway,’ Jon said, his eyes offering an apology as he put out his hand. ‘Ent easy to tame something that can trample a field demon to death and outrun anything else in the naked night.’ Renna took his hand, but let go quick when he winced at her grip.

‘Know how they feel, sometimes,’ she muttered.

Jon nodded back at Dancer. ‘Take that’un. Caught him as a colt not six months old. Thought for sure I could break the wild out of one that young, but he wouldn’t take so much as a halter, and kicked his way out of the barn more’n once.’

‘The naked night ent forgiving,’ Arlen said. ‘Six months is a lifetime out with the demons.’

Jon nodded. ‘Didn’t think even
you
could tame him.’

‘Didn’t,’ Arlen said. ‘Just brought him back where he belonged.’

‘Got him taking a saddle and reins, though,’ Jon noted, ‘but I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Back then, you were just the crazy tattooed Messenger who saved my boy. Now I hear tell you’re the ripping Deliverer!’

‘Ent,’ Arlen said. ‘I’m Arlen Bales out of Tibbet’s Brook, and I just got more sack than sense, sometimes.’

‘So you have a name, after all,’ a woman said, coming out from the ranch house. She was plain, but had the vigorous look of one used to hard work. She wore men’s clothes – high leather boots, breeches, and vest with a simple white blouse beneath. Her hair was brown and braided back much like Jon’s.