been made into a workbench, and there were wood shavings and sawdust all over the floor.
Arlen crossed the room, folding a rug out of the way and finding a loose floorboard beneath. He pulled and an entire section of the floor came up with it, cleverly disguised with sawdust to hide the cracks. Renna sat up, and her eyes widened as she looked within. It was full of weapons – oiled, sharp, and heavily warded. She slid off the bed, moving to him and crouching for a better look, her eyes dancing along Arlen’s warding.
Arlen selected a small goldwood bow and a quiver of arrows, handing it to her. ‘Time you learned to shoot.’
Renna’s lip curled in distaste. He was trying to protect her again. Keep her from fighting in close. Keep her safe. ‘Don’t want it. Don’t want no spears, neither.’
‘Why not?’ Arlen asked.
Renna held up her brook stone necklace in one hand, and drew her knife with the other. ‘Don’t wanna kill corelings from some hiding spot. I kill a demon, I want it to die knowin’ who did it.’
She waited for him to argue, but he only nodded.
‘Know exactly how you feel.’ Arlen continued to hold the weapon out to her. ‘But sometimes you’re outnumbered, or need to kill a demon quick before it cores somebody.’ He smiled. ‘And got to say, it ent a bad feeling, to just point at a coreling and kill it from afar.’
Renna took a deep breath. He was right of course. Yes, he was protecting her, but it was in the way he always had.
By teaching her to protect herself.
Love
you, Arlen Bales.
She took the bow, marvelling at its lightness. Arlen handed her a small quiver of warded arrows, then began hauling out the rest of the weapons and rolling them in oilcloth.
‘What do you need all them for?’ she asked.
‘Gonna need these and a lot more,’ Arlen said. ‘Doin’ what I shoulda done a long time ago. Gonna give warded arms to every man, woman, and child strong enough to hold one. Been making these stores all over Thesa, but I kept them all to myself. No more. I don’t need weapons to kill demons. I’m past that, now.’
‘How’s that?’ Renna asked. She waited for his eyes to flick to the side as he decided how to evade the question. Love him or no, she would smack the top of his bald head if they did.
But Arlen looked right at her, his eyes dancing. ‘Gonna show you tonight.’ He reached out, caressing the wards of vision stained in circles around her eyes. ‘Gonna need your night eyes to understand.’
Renna took his hands and rose to her feet. She backed away, pulling him along until her legs struck the bed. They sank into the feathered mattress, and kisses quickly turned to caresses. Blood pounded in her ears, a thrumming that made her feel as alive as she did in the night.
The sun was setting as they came back to the taproom for supper. After they had eaten, Arlen rose and rummaged behind the bar. He reappeared a moment later with a heavy clay jug. ‘Demons like to rise in the fields out back. What say we have a drink while we wait for ’em?’
They walked together in the gloaming, watching the lavender sky darken. The Wellers’ fields were south of the town proper and ran for acres, mostly potato, barley, and sugarcane. The fields hadn’t been tended in years, but a wild patchwork crop still clung tenaciously to the land. There were wardposts at regular intervals throughout the fields. Most were in poor repair – worthless, but here and there she saw fresh ones, their painted wards still crisp and clear. Her eyes ran over the posts, finding the pattern.
‘You made this place a maze,’ she said. ‘Like the one in the desert you told me about.’
Arlen nodded, finding a clear spot and sitting. ‘Good for cutting demons off from the horde, and a moment’s succour is never more than a step away.’ He took the heavy jug and filled two tiny clay cups with clear liquid.
‘They have a spirit in Krasia that the
Sharum
sometimes drink before going into
Arlen crossed the room, folding a rug out of the way and finding a loose floorboard beneath. He pulled and an entire section of the floor came up with it, cleverly disguised with sawdust to hide the cracks. Renna sat up, and her eyes widened as she looked within. It was full of weapons – oiled, sharp, and heavily warded. She slid off the bed, moving to him and crouching for a better look, her eyes dancing along Arlen’s warding.
Arlen selected a small goldwood bow and a quiver of arrows, handing it to her. ‘Time you learned to shoot.’
Renna’s lip curled in distaste. He was trying to protect her again. Keep her from fighting in close. Keep her safe. ‘Don’t want it. Don’t want no spears, neither.’
‘Why not?’ Arlen asked.
Renna held up her brook stone necklace in one hand, and drew her knife with the other. ‘Don’t wanna kill corelings from some hiding spot. I kill a demon, I want it to die knowin’ who did it.’
She waited for him to argue, but he only nodded.
‘Know exactly how you feel.’ Arlen continued to hold the weapon out to her. ‘But sometimes you’re outnumbered, or need to kill a demon quick before it cores somebody.’ He smiled. ‘And got to say, it ent a bad feeling, to just point at a coreling and kill it from afar.’
Renna took a deep breath. He was right of course. Yes, he was protecting her, but it was in the way he always had.
By teaching her to protect herself.
Love
you, Arlen Bales.
She took the bow, marvelling at its lightness. Arlen handed her a small quiver of warded arrows, then began hauling out the rest of the weapons and rolling them in oilcloth.
‘What do you need all them for?’ she asked.
‘Gonna need these and a lot more,’ Arlen said. ‘Doin’ what I shoulda done a long time ago. Gonna give warded arms to every man, woman, and child strong enough to hold one. Been making these stores all over Thesa, but I kept them all to myself. No more. I don’t need weapons to kill demons. I’m past that, now.’
‘How’s that?’ Renna asked. She waited for his eyes to flick to the side as he decided how to evade the question. Love him or no, she would smack the top of his bald head if they did.
But Arlen looked right at her, his eyes dancing. ‘Gonna show you tonight.’ He reached out, caressing the wards of vision stained in circles around her eyes. ‘Gonna need your night eyes to understand.’
Renna took his hands and rose to her feet. She backed away, pulling him along until her legs struck the bed. They sank into the feathered mattress, and kisses quickly turned to caresses. Blood pounded in her ears, a thrumming that made her feel as alive as she did in the night.
The sun was setting as they came back to the taproom for supper. After they had eaten, Arlen rose and rummaged behind the bar. He reappeared a moment later with a heavy clay jug. ‘Demons like to rise in the fields out back. What say we have a drink while we wait for ’em?’
They walked together in the gloaming, watching the lavender sky darken. The Wellers’ fields were south of the town proper and ran for acres, mostly potato, barley, and sugarcane. The fields hadn’t been tended in years, but a wild patchwork crop still clung tenaciously to the land. There were wardposts at regular intervals throughout the fields. Most were in poor repair – worthless, but here and there she saw fresh ones, their painted wards still crisp and clear. Her eyes ran over the posts, finding the pattern.
‘You made this place a maze,’ she said. ‘Like the one in the desert you told me about.’
Arlen nodded, finding a clear spot and sitting. ‘Good for cutting demons off from the horde, and a moment’s succour is never more than a step away.’ He took the heavy jug and filled two tiny clay cups with clear liquid.
‘They have a spirit in Krasia that the
Sharum
sometimes drink before going into
Similar Books
