The other minds must have felt it, too, for the demons fighting the Hollowers, while not killed, fell into disarray. Arlen looked at his people and realized the price of his arrogance. In the minutes he had been trapped, the organized drones had taken a heavy toll.
Boulders and tree trunks lay scattered about the field amid the broken bodies of dozens of men and horses. There was no sign of Captain Gamon, and Thamos, his armour spattered with ichor, had lost his horse and was fighting spear and shield against a rock demon. Promise ran free, trampling field demons into the ground as Renna fought at his side.
Gared had kept his seat, but Rockslide now had Dug Butcher slung unconscious across his back as well. The Hollowers had killed their share, but the Core could spew an endless stream, whereas every human life was precious and irreplaceable if they hoped to win.
The sight of the dead and wounded filled Arlen with anger and he Drew again, ignoring the burning in his skin as he sent a blast of power into a knot of field demons, clearing a path back to safety.
‘Retreat,’ he called, sending his voice far and wide. ‘Keep your heads, but move back to the greatward quick as you can. Work’s done for now.’
Twice more he drew wards of heat and impact, incinerating groups of demons to help his people back to safety. He used the same wards Leesha used to pull moisture from the air to water her garden to drown a pack of flame demons that tried to give chase. They fell to the ground, steaming and writhing as they gurgled water, glowing eyes going dark.
When the Hollowers were safe, Arlen turned to the stockpiles of boulders and trees the corelings had built, pulling more and more power as he began destroying them.
He Drew so hard, the entire wardnet began to flicker and dim. Arlen’s throat and nose were on fire like he had eaten a handful of Krasian firepeppers. His muscles ached and his fingernails grew hot. His eyes were dry and stung when he blinked.
But there were stockpiles still, so he pulled yet more, until suddenly everything went black, and he felt himself falling.
Forgot to breathe again, he thought just before he hit the ground.
24
333 AR Autumn
Second Night of New Moon
Leesha was in the temporary hospit in New Rizon when the flashes of light began. She was desperately trying to stitch a man’s chest back together, but twice needed to stop work and lean over him, shielding the wound with her own body as explosions shook the building and dust clattered from the rafters. Outside, people were cheering and screaming in equal measure.
‘What in the Core is going on out there?’ she demanded.
‘I’ll find out, mistress.’ Wonda grabbed her bow, glad to have something to do.
She returned a few minutes later. ‘Mistress, you need to come quick.’
Leesha could not spare her even a glance, her fingers slick with blood as she tried to stem a bleeding artery. ‘I’m a little busy at the moment, Wonda. What’s happened?’
‘You need to come now,’ Wonda said. The urgency in her tone made Leesha glance up at last. Wonda’s face was pale with fear. ‘Deliverer’s down.’
Everyone looked up at that. ‘Impossible!’ a woman shouted as others began to wail.
Leesha looked back at the open wound, her work far from complete. ‘I can’t just …’ she began, but then Amanvah laid a hand over hers.
‘Go,’ the dama’ting said. ‘I will take care of this.’
Leesha looked at her. ‘Are you-’
‘I have been treating injured Sharum since I was seven years old, mistress,’ Amanvah cut her off. ‘Go.’
Leesha nodded, grabbing a cloth to wipe her hands before lifting her skirts to run after Wonda.
‘Tell me what you know,’ she said as they went.
‘Folk say he appeared in the sky,’ Wonda said, ‘hurling fire and lightning like the Creator himself to cover the retreat. But then the greatward dimmed, and he fell.’ She choked on the last words, and wiped at her face with an arm. Leesha had never seen the giant young woman cry, and the sight did more to bring home the severity of what had happened than anything she could have said. She picked up her pace, arriving breathless at the crowd that had gathered.
‘Move aside for Mistress Leesha!’ Wonda shouted, but she didn’t wait for them to comply, grabbing people and shoving them aside to clear the path.
In the centre of the ring, Renna knelt by Arlen’s twisted body, lying still on the cobbles. Blood was pooling around his head. Gared and several Cutters stood by keeping the onlookers back, and they quickly opened a way to admit Leesha.
‘Don’t you die on me, Arlen Bales!’ Renna shouted at him, clutching one of his hands, but Arlen gave no response.
‘He’s alive,’ Leesha said as she found his pulse, weak and erratic. His skull was bashed in where it had struck the cobbles, and Leesha could feel the fractures spiderwebbing out from the spot. Jagged bones jutted from his skin. He had a broken shoulder and collar, shattered ribs, pelvis …
But the bleeding had stopped. ‘Night,’ Leesha breathed. ‘He’s healing already.’
Renna looked at her. ‘Ent that a good thing?’
‘Not if he heals all twisted,’ Leesha said. ‘We need to get him on an operating table. Gared! Can you lift him? Carefully!’
Gared moved to comply, but Renna effortlessly shoved him aside, lifting Arlen as tenderly as a babe in swaddling. ‘Everything’s gonna be sunny,’ she promised as tears streamed down her face.
For the next hour, Leesha, Darsy, and Renna pulled, twisted, and splinted Arlen back into his proper shape. Twice, Darsy had to rebreak bones that had healed incorrectly. Through it all, Arlen remained unconscious, which would have been for the best, if not for the head trauma.
Gared stuck his head in when the sun finally crested the sky. ‘He gonna be all right?’
Leesha wiped the sweat from her brow and shrugged. ‘We’ve done all we can. He’s alive and healing fast, we’ll just have to wait till he wakes up on his own.’
But who will we find when he does? she wondered silently. His skull had been cracked like an egg, and though the fractures had melted away before her eyes, there was no telling if the fall had done damage even magic could not heal.
A Gatherer needs to know how to deliver hard news, Bruna had taught, but she also needs to know when. Telling the others, even Renna, that Arlen might have permanent brain damage would set a panic through the Hollow that they couldn’t afford.
Gared nodded and left. Thamos came in soon after. He was spattered with ichor, his thick hair matted with sweat and the enamel shattered in more than one part of his armour, but he seemed hale enough. Leesha felt a slight relief at that, holding on to that good news as she asked for the bad.
‘How many dead?’ she asked.
Thamos shook his head. ‘Hundreds confirmed already, but there are over a thousand unaccounted for. We’re only just starting to gather the remains of bodies left out in the night and take stock of those here in the hospit. I thought Captain Gamon dead until I saw him here in plaster.’
Leesha nodded. ‘He was knocked from his seat, but his armour caught on the saddle, and his horse dragged him all the way back to the greatward. His hip is broken, and he has a concussion.’
‘Will he walk again?’ Thamos asked.
Leesha shrugged. ‘If I have anything to say he will, but we haven’t been doing our best work, Highness. Keeping folk alive has been the priority.’ She made no mention of the demon bones she had depleted to save Gamon’s life. She cared deeply for the count, and believed he had his people’s best interests at heart, but the knowledge that she could heal with magic wasn’t something she was ready to share just yet. Of those working in the makeshift hospit, only she and Amanvah knew the art. There wasn’t nearly enough hora to save everyone, and she had no idea how some might take to the idea of being healed with coreling magic.