Leesha rolled her eyes. “Oh, to be so lucky as to be one of Ahmann’s laying hens.”

“Better than the ones gone to slaughter,” Elona shot back.

They reached Leesha’s apartments, and Elona followed her in. Leesha fell onto a pillowed divan, putting her head in her hands. “I wish Bruna were here. She ’d know what to do.”

“She ’d marry Jardir and tame him,” Elona said. “If she had your body and youth, she’d’ve bent both Deliverers to her will by now, and gotten her toes curled to sweeten the pot.”

“You can’t know that, Mother,” Leesha said.

“I know better than you,” Elona said. “I was apprenticed to that miserable old hag before you were ever born, and there were a scant few alive then old enough to remember Bruna in her prime. Her legs never closed, to hear them say it, until she married late in life, and she ran that town even more surely than she did in her dotage. More surely than you run it now, because she had power, not just here,” Elona poked Leesha in the temple, “but here, as well.” She stabbed a finger to point at her own crotch. “That is a woman’s power, as much as gathering herbs, and only a fool chooses not to take advantage of it.”

Leesha opened her mouth to protest, but for some reason her mother’s words rang true, and no rebuttal came to her. Bruna had been a filthy old woman, full of bawdy remarks and tales of her promiscuous youth. Leesha had dismissed many of the stories, thinking the old woman had simply liked to shock people, but now she wasn’t so sure.

“Take advantage how?” she asked.

“Jardir is obsessed with you,” Elona said. “Any woman can read it on him at a glance. That is why Inevera fears you, and why you have an opportunity to take this desert snake by the throat and turn it aside from your people.”

“My people,” Leesha said. “The Hollow.”

“Of course, the Hollow!” Elona snapped. “Rizon’s sun has set, and ent nothing for it.”

“What of Angiers?” Leesha asked. “Lakton? Every hamlet between here and there? I might be able to protect the Hollow, but what can I do for them?”

“From Jardir’s bed?” Elona asked, incredulous. “Is there a place in the world you could influence the war more? Slake a man’s lust, and he will give you anything you ask. Surely that big brain of yours can think of a few simple requests to turn the worst of his tide.”

She bent close to Leesha, putting her lips to Leesha’s ear. “Or would you rather it be Inevera’s voice that whispers advice in his ear as he drifts off to sleep each night?”

It was a terrifying thought, and Leesha shook her head, but she still felt unsure.

“The gates of Heaven don’t lie between your legs, Leesha,” Elona said. “I know you wanted to wait for your wedding night, and truth be told, I wanted that for you, too. But it din’t happen that way, and life goes on.”

Leesha looked at her mother sharply, and saw Elona’s defiant visage staring back at her, ready to stand by every word.

“You see the world very clearly, Mother,” Leesha said. “I envy you, sometimes.”

Elona was taken aback. “You do?” she asked, incredulous.

Leesha smiled. “Not often, mind.”

CHAPTER 30

FERAL

RENNA WAITED PATIENTLY AS the rock demon materialized. She had chosen her perch carefully, high in the single tall tree atop a hill where a large facing of bedrock jutted from the ground like a broken bone sticking through flesh.

The pattern of tracks in the soil told her the giant coreling, some dozen feet tall, materialized in this same spot almost every night. Over the last six weeks, Arlen had taught her many things, including the fact that rock demons were creatures of habit, and lesser demons would have learned to stay clear of any rising place claimed by a rock demon.

As the foul gray mist seeped from the bedrock, slowly coalescing into demonic form, she closed her eyes, breathing deeply as she embraced her fear and found her inner center.

It was amazing how well the Krasian technique worked. It had been a challenge at first, but now it took only a moment to shift her perspective, going to a mental place where there was no pain, no fear of foe or failure.

The world looked different as she opened her eyes and stood, bare feet gripping the tree limb in perfect balance. In her left hand, she gripped Harl’s knife, running her thumb absently over the wards she had carved into the bone handle. In her right, she held a single chestnut.

A cool breeze rustled the yellowing leaves around her, and she inhaled deeply, letting the air caress her bare skin, feeling as much a part of the nighttime world as the unsuspecting demon materializing below her.

Her waist-length brown hair had gotten in her way and was now a short, spiky remnant with only a single braided tail to recall its former length. She had discarded her dress entirely, cutting her shift into two parts: a high vest laced tightly to hold her breasts in place but open below to reveal her warded belly, and a skirt slit high on both sides to free her warded legs.

Arlen still refused to ward her flesh for her, but she had ignored him, grinding her own blackstems. The ink stained her skin a dark brown that lasted many days before fading.

She looked down, seeing the demon solidify at last, and flicked the chestnut. Without waiting to see if it struck its mark, she stepped off the branch into thin air, dropping silently.

The chestnut hit the demon’s far shoulder as she fell, the heat ward she had painted onto its smooth surface blazing bright in the darkness as it sucked magic from the powerful coreling. The tough nut became superheated in an instant, and exploded with a bang.

The rock demon was unharmed, but the flash and noise turned its head the other way just as Renna landed on its broad armored shoulder. She grabbed one of its horns with her free hand for balance and drove her knife into its throat. The wards on the blade flared, and she was rewarded with a jolt of magic and a hot gush of black ichor that covered her hand.

She snarled and drew her arm back for another strike, but the demon howled, throwing its head back, and it was all Renna could do to hold on to its horn and keep her perch.

She swung wildly to avoid the talons as the demon clawed and punched at its own head in an effort to dislodge her, stabbing with the knife and kicking her warded feet at whatever targets came in range. Magic bucked through her with each strike, an electric thrill that made her faster, stronger, more resilient with every touch. The wards around her eyes activated, and the night lit up with magic’s glow.

Her blows distracted the demon, but they did little more. She could no longer access the more vulnerable eyes and throat, and she did not have the leverage to stab through its thick skull. Sooner or later, one of its wild swings would crush her. She laughed at the thrill of it.

Sheathing her knife, Renna reached into her waistband, pulling free the long string of brook stones Cobie Fisher had given her in what seemed like another life. She whipped the necklace around the demon’s throat, letting go its horn to catch the far end as it came around. She crossed her arms and dropped down into the groove between its armored shoulder blades, hanging from the ends of the leather cord just out of the enraged coreling’s reach.

She was slammed about but kept her grip, using her full weight to pull the warded beads tight around the demon’s throat. Renna had painted the smooth stones with wards of forbidding, and they flared to repel, the magic crushing inward from all sides.

In moments the giant rock demon’s thrashing and thunderous footfalls became twitches and staggered steps. The string grew warm as the magic built in intensity, brightening the night.

At last, there was a crack and a final flare before the magic winked out. The giant horned head fell free, and Renna kicked off, leaping out of the way. She landed lightly on her feet as the giant demon came crashing down next to her. She could feel the stolen magic tingling in her skin, healing every scrape and bruise received in the battle. She looked at the black demon ichor on her hands, and laughed again, winding up her beads and running off to continue the hunt.