He took a deep breath. That's just the magic talking. He tried hard to believe it.

'Morning, ladies,' he said, putting a cheerful smile on his face. 'Visit was cut short last night.' He looked to Leesha. 'Mind if we talk a spell?'

Leesha blinked, then shook her head. 'Of course not. Walk with me in the gardens? They've gone untended too long.'

Arlen nodded, and Leesha took a basket of gardening tools and led the way out into the yard. As they walked into the garden maze, he caught a last exchange between Darsy and Wonda, still back in the cottage.

'What I wouldn't give to be a bee buzzing in the garden right now,' Darsy said.

'They got enough people buzzing about them right now, Darsy Cutter,' Wonda said. 'Best not be hearing talk about them walking in the garden alone, next time I'm in town.'

'You threatening me, girl?' Darsy demanded, her voice rising with her short temper.

'Ay,' Wonda replied quietly. 'And you'd best take heed.'

Arlen smiled to himself. If anyone else had said those words, Darsy would have made them eat them. But even Darsy wasn't fool enough to swing a fist at Wonda Cutter.

Leesha stopped by the hogroot patch, pulling out a weeding tool. 'I swear, Darsy should have been a woodcutter. She's far better at killing plants than growing them.'

Arlen nodded. 'She's also as much a gossip as any in town. Wonda just cowed her into keeping quiet about our stroll.'

Leesha smelled of amusement. 'Love that girl.' She began to dig. 'Guess it wouldn't do for your new bride to know you were here.'

'I told her where I was going,' Arlen said. 'Not interested in starting my marriage with lies.'

'Came on sudden,' Leesha said.

Arlen shrugged. 'Strange night.'

'Ay,' Leesha agreed.

'Sorry about how I acted with you,' Arlen said. 'Didn't have a right to get mad like I did.'

'You did,' Leesha said. Arlen looked at her in surprise, and she held up her spade, coated with rich, fresh soil that smelled of life. 'I'm not apologizing for anything I've done, or saying I'd act differently if I had it to do over. But if what you say about Ahmann is true, then you had right to be as mad as the Core. I'm sorry for that. I never meant to hurt you.'

'It's true,' Arlen said.

'I know,' Leesha said. 'Can't say I approve of your choices sometimes, but you're as honest a man as I've ever met.' She shrugged. 'For what little that's worth.'

'So we're both sorry, but not sorry,' Arlen said. 'Where do we go from here?'

'To business, of course,' Leesha said. 'Waning is ten dawns away. Do you have a plan?'

Arlen frowned. Waning. The Krasian name for it. For some reason, that rankled.

'Have a lot of little plans,' Arlen said. 'Don't know what the demons will do, so it's a fool's choice to make a big one.'

'Agreed,' Leesha said. 'They're smart. Maybe smarter than us.'

'Ay, maybe,' Arlen said, 'but they look down on us, and don't understand our ways half as well as they think. Gut tells me they'll try to overwhelm us right away. Come with a host to make a mountain quake, kill me and Jardir, scatter our armies, and leave the rest of the world cowed.'

Leesha shuddered. 'Do you think they can do that?'

Arlen shrugged. 'Maybe.' He held up a finger. 'But if they fail, folk'll take heart and rally. We'll be stronger in six months than we are now.'

'So we hit back with everything we have,' Leesha said.

Arlen nodded. 'And they won't be ready for half of what I can do.'

Leesha toured the town later in the day, meeting with old friends and patients, asking after their health. It was as Darsy said. Arlen had cleared the hospit of even the most minor injuries and sicknesses, putting all the Hollowers back to work when they were needed most.

The Gatherers kept busy, though, recruiting every man and woman with skill with a needle to make headbands with mind wards and embroider crude but serviceable versions of the Cloaks of Unsight.

She met with the town council, though they were mostly symbolic now, with little real power. Thamos had appointed magistrates and tax collectors who would now report to Gared, of all people.

She shook her head. Gared Cutter, Baron of Cutter's Hollow, capital of Hollow County. That would take more than a little getting used to.

The rest of the town seemed puffed with pride about the appointment. The Hollow had never had a lord, and they quickly forgot Gared the town bully from just a few short years back. He had been popular as a child, handsome and strong as an ox; promised to Leesha Paper, whose father spun paper into gold. But after their split, his reputation had been as ruined as hers, for Bruna made him publicly recant his lies about bedding her.

Without a bride or the esteem of the town, Gared had turned to his strength to gain respect, with mixed success. No one was fool enough to cross him, but they gave him a wide berth all the same.

All that changed with the Battle of Cutter's Hollow. Gared had just lost his father, and all agreed Steave had been a bad influence on the boy from the start. Steave's affair with Elona was common knowledge. But Gared had emerged from the battle a hero, and had put his life at risk every night since, keeping the town safe. It had been easy to forget the old him. Many of the Cutters had found their calling thus, and all the town had come together, forgiving one another's failings in their need to survive the night.

Leesha couldn't even say Gared would be a poor lord. He had the count to keep him from abusing his power, and seemed content to delegate responsibility and keep his focus on leading the Cutters. If Arlen was right, and the people needed real heroes to look to, Gared fitted the description perfectly.

But again the image of him and her mother flashed in her mind, and she shook her head, trying to clear it.

It seemed nothing could banish the sight.

As promised, Thamos' carriage came for her at gloaming. Leesha was in the hospit, and many saw her climb in. Folk leaned in to whisper to one another, and Leesha could only imagine what they were saying. Was it scorn, or were they hoping for another grand wedding in the near future?

Knowing the Hollow, probably a little of both. Leesha resigned herself to it and sat back in the plush carriage. It would only get worse when her belly began to swell, and better people think the child Thamos' for the nonce.

The count's new keep was impressive, she had to admit. Only a skeleton of what it would become if the corelings and Krasians didn't tear it down first, but already it was a powerful defensive position, built on high ground with a temporary palisade of sharpened stakes to protect the workers who dug the foundation and hauled stone for a more permanent wall.

Leesha was met in the courtyard by Lord Arther, who escorted her through the yard, past pavilions set to house workers, servants, and men-at-arms. The keep at its centre was a skeletal maze, but Arther guided her to the small livable section that housed Thamos' personal quarters, which would probably become guest quarters once the count's proper rooms were appointed.

Nevertheless, the dining room was richly furnished, as befitted a prince of Angiers. Thamos waited at the head of the long table, conferring with Captain Gamon, but the moment Leesha arrived both men rose and the captain bowed deeply. 'A pleasure to see you again, Mistress Paper. Please excuse me.' Gamon was out the door as soon as Leesha nodded.

Thamos himself pulled out her chair, and then sat himself as a servant filled their wineglasses. He dismissed the woman with a wave, and she scurried from the room.

'Alone at last,' Thamos said. 'I've been thinking of you all day.'

'You and the whole town,' Leesha said. 'Your coachman told tales to half the Hollow after dropping us off last night.'

The count raised an eyebrow. 'Shall I have his tongue cut out?'

Leesha's eyes bulged, and Thamos broke out laughing. 'A jest, only!' He patted the air to placate her. 'Though he should be punished.'

'What did you have in mind?' Leesha asked.

'A week of digging refuse pits without pay should make him think twice,' Thamos said. 'I can't have loose tongues in my servants.' He winked. 'At least not when it doesn't suit my purpose.'

'And this doesn't suit your purpose?' Leesha asked. 'You wouldn't be parading me through town in your coach and dangling your title if you didn't think marrying me would bring you advantage in the Hollow.'

'Courting you properly brings me advantage,' Thamos agreed. 'Bedding you like a tavern wench does not.' He shook his head. 'I can already hear what my mother is going to say when she finds out.'

'I see no reason why she needs to know,' Leesha said.

Thamos chuckled. 'Don't fool yourself. My mother has more spies in the Hollow than you can count.'

'So what do we do about it?' Leesha asked.

Thamos held up his glass. 'You accept the position as Royal Gatherer, and we work together to benefit Hollow County. In the meantime, I will invite you to dinners, send you flowers, and shower you with expensive gifts while entertaining you with witty conversation and playful banter. After that ... we'll see.'

'And are you expecting these dinners to end in your bedchamber?' Leesha asked.

Thamos smiled. 'I will remind you, Miss Paper, that it was you who took advantage of me last night.'

Leesha clinked her glass with his. 'So it was.'

Gared was overseeing the Cutters' muster in the Corelings' Graveyard when Arlen found him.

'Evening, Baron,' he said.

Gared looked at him, embarrassment in his aura. 'Don't feel right, you callin' me that, sir.'

'General?' Arlen asked, smiling.

'Night, I think that's worse,' Gared said.

'No better than you callin' me sir,' Arlen said. 'Think you got half a decade on me. So how about we drop the formalities? I'll call you Gared and you call me Arlen.'

The embarrassment turned to actual fear. Gared started to shake his head, but Arlen put a hand on his shoulder. 'You've got demons on one side and corelings on the other, Gar. Either I'm just folk and ent too good to be called my proper name, or I'm the ripping Deliverer and you got to do as I say.'

Gared rubbed the back of his neck. 'Guess when you put it that way, ent got a choice.'

'Arlen,' Arlen said.

'Arlen,' Gared repeated.

Arlen slapped his shoulder. 'Didn't burn your tongue, did it? Walk with me a spell. Got something to show you.'

Gared nodded, and they set off to the private spot where Renna waited with Rockslide. She kept a firm hold on the stallion's thick braided leather reins, though he seemed to have stopped struggling, at last. It had taken a long time, and several broken reins, before Rockslide came to accept that Renna, who was a tenth his mass, was strong enough to hold him immobile.

Gared stopped short at the sight of the magnificent animal, letting out a low whistle. 'He's even bigger'n Twilight Dancer.'

'Rockslide is Dancer's sire,' Arlen said. 'Only horse I ever saw built on your scale, Gared Cutter, and I don't think there's anyone else strong enough to break him. Cutters managed to get him into a saddle, but none of them has been able to keep the seat.'

'Don't let Arlen scare you,' Renna said, handing Gared the reins. 'Rocky's sweet as can be. Just gotta understand him.'

'Ay?' Gared asked. He reached out to stroke the horse's neck, but Rockslide turned a glare his way, and he thought better of it.

'Ay,' Renna said. 'Rocky's been locked behind the wards for years, but he was meant to run free in the night.'

'Know what that's like,' Gared said.

Renna nodded. 'Don't put him behind walls or tolerate him acting the fool and he'll friend you. And with the wards I cut into his hooves, he'll kick in the skull of any demon so much as looks at you funny.'

'Like the sound of that.' Gared met Rockslide's eyes. The horse tried to pull back, but though Gared was not as strong as Renna, he was still the strongest man Arlen had ever met. His thick arm bunched and the reins creaked, but Rockslide's head did not move as Gared laid a hand on his neck. After a moment, the stallion relaxed again.

'Don't deserve this,' Gared said.

'Ent for you to decide what folk give you,' Arlen said. 'You earned that horse ten times over.'

'Din't just mean the horse,' Gared said. 'All of it. Count has men making me a coat of arms. Me! Gared rippin' Cutter.' He shook his head. 'Feels like I'm about to be caught in a lie and sent back to choppin' trees. Need you to tell me what you want me to do.'

'Want you to man up and think for yourself,' Arlen said. 'Like it or not, you're Baron of Cutter's Hollow now. Your job is to look out for the people under you first, and be the count's man second. He asks you to do something you don't think is right, you follow your conscience.'

'Don't want all that responsibility,' Gared said. 'Ent clever or anything, and my conscience gets me into trouble, oft as not.'

'Don't need to be clever to know right from wrong,' Arlen said, 'and I know all about being saddled with responsibilities you don't want. But life ent fair, Gared Cutter. Won't always be someone around to tell you what to do.'

22.

New Moon

333 AR Autumn

First Night of New Moon