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.

Thamos moved close to her, putting his strong hands on her shoulders to squeeze. For a moment she let herself lean on him, suddenly realizing how very tired she was.

'You should rest,' Thamos said.

Leesha shook herself, pulling away from his tempting embrace. 'There are people who need my help, Highness. If you think I'm going to let them wait so I can sit and rub my feet, you don't know me at all. Please go and leave me to my work.'

But the count stood his ground. 'We have men scouting the demon wards and mapping their stockpiles of ammunition, but we're going to need flamework to destroy them before the sun sets and it begins again.'

Leesha nodded. 'Tell Darsy Cutter what you need, and she'll see it done, but consult the Warders on where to place it. There's a limit to the flamework, and we can't afford to waste a single thunderstick.'

The count nodded. She turned to go back to her patients, but he caught her arm. When she looked at him, he pulled her close, kissing her deeply.

'Out in the night, I feared I would never get to do that again,' he whispered.

Leesha smiled. 'Take two, then.'

Renna stayed by Arlen's side through the night and into the next day, waiting for him to stir. His wounds had closed, but there was no sign that he was coming around.

Don't you leave me, Arlen Bales, she thought. Can't do this without you.

She managed a few hours of sleep after sunrise, curled protectively at Arlen's side. She woke with a start to the sound of an explosion in the distance. She was on her feet instantly, ready to fight, but there was still sunlight streaming in through the tent flap of the healing pavilion. She glanced down at Arlen, but he hadn't moved at all.

'The count's men are marring the greatwards and destroying stockpiles,' Leesha said, catching Renna's eye for a moment before resuming her rounds, checking on the most seriously wounded patients and giving instructions to other Gatherers.

She smelled of exhaustion, but you wouldn't see it looking at her. Renna, still flush with power from the night's fighting, felt strong and alert. Leesha had no such advantage, but still she worked. At the far side of the tent, Amanvah and Sikvah ministered as tirelessly to the injured Sharum.

And what have I done? Slept. Renna looked down at Arlen, running a hand down his cheek. 'Keep restin', love.' She kissed him. 'I'll make sure you still have a place to wake up to.'

Folk came to her the moment she left the pavilion, asking after Arlen. She told them he was all right, only sleeping to gather his strength, and moved on to see what she could do to throw in. More explosions echoed in the distance, but there was little she could do to assist there.

She went instead to the weakest points of Newhaven's greatward, looking to strengthen them as she could. She spent the rest of the day ploughing, digging, and hauling giant stones. The demons were going to break through the net. She knew that from the beginning, but every moment they spent trying was one they could not spend killing the Hollowers.

Leesha watched as Thamos paced behind the map table. Like her, he had not rested throughout the day, and his eyes were dark and sunken in his handsome face. Arther stood near his lord, a contrast in his stillness.

They were back in the count's pavilion in the Corelings' Graveyard, having just overseen the transfer of wounded from Newhaven to the hospit in Cutter's Hollow. Leesha had been so proud of the building when it was first raised, but now, with wounded overflowing, it seemed woefully inadequate. If the Hollow survived, she would need to expand.

With Captain Gamon wounded, Thamos had once again assumed direct control of the Wooden Soldiers. He had called this last meeting as sunlight faded to go over plans for the coming night. Gared, Wonda, and the Butchers were there, along with Renna, Rojer, Amanvah, Sikvah, and Enkido. Even Drillmaster Kaval had been allowed in, though Thamos' guards had disarmed him and eyed him warily. Inquisitor Hayes and Child Franq clutched Canons, eyes closed as they mouthed silent prayers.

Leesha looked back to the count and, for an instant, wished he was Ahmann. She wondered, not for the first time, what was happening to the south in Everam's Bounty. Were they under similar assault? Likely they were, but Leesha did not feel as worried for the Krasians as she did for the Hollow.

It wasn't fair to Thamos, but she could not help but compare him with her Krasian lover. Whatever atrocities Jardir had committed in the name of his Holy War against demonkind, the man exuded confidence and inspired it in others. Thamos was a good man and strong, but he exuded doubt and it was palpable in the room.

It was Amanvah who asked the question on everyone's mind. 'Where is the Par'chin?'

'Sleeping,' Leesha said.

Amanvah gave her a coldly appraising look. 'The sun is soon to set. Should we not wake him?'

Leesha shook her head. 'He took a terrible blow to the head. Shaking and shouting isn't going to rouse him before he's ready, or do him any good even if it could.'

Thamos stopped pacing. 'He bought us this day, and we've made the most of it. It's up to us to hold the Hollow until he wakes, if he ever does.'

'He will,' Renna cut in. 'When the sun sets he'll get his strength back.'

'Like a demon,' Child Franq said.

Renna was across the room in an instant, her face a feral snarl. Franq stumbled backward, tripping over a stool and landing on his backside. 'Say that again,' she dared.

Franq quickly regained his feet. He was taller than Renna, but she seemed the larger of the two, moving forward as he shrank back. Leesha took a steadying breath, feeling her head begin to throb again. Fighting among themselves would serve no one but the corelings, but she, too, wanted to punch the Holy Man, and had no energy to break them apart.

Surprisingly, it was the Inquisitor who ended the confrontation, putting a firm hand on Franq's shoulder. 'The Child will be silent.'

Franq looked at his master in disbelief, but the Tender's eyes were hard. 'His Highness is correct. However he did it, Mr Bales saved us all last night. If he broke the Creator's law to do so, let Him judge that in the afterlife. It is for us to be thankful and strive to see another dawn.'

Renna looked at him and nodded. 'Ent my husband, but I'll do what I can to see it so.'

Thamos looked at her. 'Can you ... ah ...' He made a sweeping gesture, drawing a clumsy ward in the air.

Renna shook her head. 'Don't think so, but I can tear a demon's arm off and shove it down its throat.'

Gared chuckled. 'Seen her do it.'

Leesha felt her head throb again, wondering if it would be enough.

Renna stood with the Haveners when night fell. She knew her presence lent them strength and was glad of it, but wished that there was someone to lend strength to her. Arlen was still unconscious, and Thamos had split his forces to guard the weakest points of the Hollow's net, unable to focus on any one place. Leesha had insisted on keeping her hospit at the centre of the Hollow, where it would be safest. Teams of Gatherer's apprentices and volunteers stood ready with carts to move wounded.

General Gared and the Cutters guarded New Rizon, where the eastern mind demon had built its ward, and Thamos and the bulk of his Wooden Soldiers waited by the border of Lakdale to the west. The other boroughs had their own militias standing ready with spear and bow, but there was no way of knowing precisely where the demons would strike.

Renna had been given command of Newhaven, with Rojer and the Krasians to bolster the Haveners, who had taken heavy losses the night before. The rest of the Jongleurs had been split between the boroughs to help as they could.

She shifted her feet, wondering if she was in the wrong place. She had felt the mind demon at the centre die, and the coreling ashes in the area confirmed that its death had taken all the local demons with it, but the minds had made the borough the centre of their assault for a reason. Newhaven still had the weakest wardnet of any borough, too much of it made from trees and structures that could be easily smashed by a rock demon with even moderate aim. Those not fit to fight had already been evacuated, but they had to hold the ground as long as possible. If Newhaven fell, it would bring the demons in striking range of Cutter's Hollow.

'It's going to be all right,' Rojer said, as if reading her mind.

Renna looked at him and his wives. They were clad in bright colours like a Jongleur's troupe, the women's veils cut short to reveal their full lips, that their voices might carry unimpeded. It was strange that revealing something every other woman Renna had ever known bared without a thought should seem so scandalous, but somehow it did. The Krasian men seemed to feel it even more strongly than her. Sharum kept glancing at the women, distracted. Kaval caught one warrior looking and struck him hard with the shaft of his spear, shouting something in Krasian.

'How's that?' she asked. Rojer masked his feelings well, but she could smell his fear.

The red-haired Jongleur shrugged and gave her a smile. 'Either we win and show the world that the demons can't pull us down no matter how hard they try, or we die and someone writes a song about how we stood strong to the end so a hundred years from now, folk remember and take heart in our bravery.'

'Rather live,' Renna said, as the cries of demons began to sound in the night. The greatward was coming to life beneath her feet, a huge pool of strength she did not fully understand. Could she tap it as Arlen had? Would it be enough even if she could? She thought again of her husband, lying still as death in his hospit bed.

There was a rustling in the thin line of trees across the clearing, and she embraced her fear and worry, straightening. As she did, she felt power rush into her, making her strong. Her mouth watered. If they were going to die, let them die fighting.

'Bows at the ready,' she called, and the Haveners raised their weapons. The Krasians were not shooters, but each held three spears, two for throwing and a third for close fighting.

'That's our cue,' Rojer said, stepping forward and raising his fiddle, beginning to play. Amanvah and Sikvah raised their voices to join him, touching the demon bone chokers at their throats.

The music carried far on the currents of magic, growing louder and more complex, weaving a spell in the air that pushed at the demons as strongly as a wardnet. Renna knew they were out there could see their glow shining in the trees but they seemed unable to approach so long as the trio continued to play. After several minutes, the pounding in her heart began to slow.

But then a boulder arched high into the air over the trees.

'Look out!' Renna cried. Enkido was already pulling Amanvah out of the way, and Renna grabbed Rojer and Sikvah like children, leaping aside. The gigantic stone hit just as they landed, knocking her from her feet and showering them with bits of rubble. They coughed from the dust, unharmed, but the damage had been done.

The moment the music stopped, the woods exploded with demons. Field demons came in reaps, with flame demons at their heels. Others, their scales a glittering white, followed. Renna had never seen the like, but knew snow demons from Arlen's stories.

Someone screamed, and the Haveners let loose a volley of their precious warded arrows. Their aim was erratic and the targets in fast motion, but the sheer number of demons meant many were struck. Some few of these fell, but most ran on.

'Don't shoot, you fools!' Renna screamed. 'The greatward is still active!'

Indeed, the corelings came up against the ward and were thrown back with a bright flare of magic. Renna wondered at the point of the charge until a falling stone fell on the head of an archer, killing her instantly. She looked up and saw a wind demon bank and fly off even as more came, hauling large stones in their hind talons.

'Shoot the windies!' she cried. The Haveners lifted their bows to comply, but their fear was palpable, shaking hands that needed to be steady. Even with the light of the greatward, the night sky was dark, and they could not see the demons glowing as Renna did. A few wind demons dropped from the sky, crashing into the wardnet and sliding off like birds flying into a thick pane of glass, but most of the arrows vanished harmlessly into the blackness.

'Rock and wood!' Kaval shouted, and Renna turned, cursing. At the tree line, the huge demons were massing, carrying heavy stones and sections of tree trunk in their talons.

Renna froze, unsure, but Kaval smoothly took command. 'Archers!' he cried. 'Target the rock demons! Ignore all else! We will deal with the wood!'

Some of the Haveners looked to Renna, and she gritted her teeth. She should have seen the diversion for what it was, and now she had foolishly wasted much of their ammunition. She hated to admit it, but she was out of her depth. Kaval, calm and ready to lead, had trained a lifetime for this. 'Do as he says!'

The Haveners loosed again, this time at targets even a novice could not miss. As they did, the Sharum ran forward, coming to a stop right at the edge of the wardnet and using the momentum of their sprints to aid their throws. The light spears flew far, piercing the hearts of wood demons and knocking them down. The demons shrieked, trying to clutch at the weapons, but the defensive wards along the shafts prevented them from drawing them out, even as the offensive wards continued to suck magic from the corelings, turning it into killing energy they pumped back into the wounds.

The Haveners were having less success. Their strongest arrows wasted, the crude ones stuck from the rock demons like pins in a cushion. The demons shrieked, but it seemed more in annoyance than distress. They cocked their arms back, launching their heavy missiles.

Everyone scattered, but the defenders were not the demons' targets. One stone struck a wooden fence that formed part of the greatward, knocking it to splinters. Another blasted through a section of embankment. Flame demons spat fire on some of the stones, and while the flames winked out when they crossed the wardnet, the rocks remained superheated. One smashed through the doors of a barn, and smoke and flame soon began to stream forth.

And still more demons came on. Stone and wood demons carried ammunition for the larger rocks, whose range and power were incomparable. Even when a few of the rock demons finally succumbed to the dozens of arrows sticking from their armour and fell to the ground, they were swiftly replaced.

Rojer raised his fiddle again, but before he could begin to form a melody, a wood demon threw a log the size of a beer barrel at him and his wives. He managed to roll out of the way, and Amanvah and Sikvah dropped to the ground, dirtying their fine coloured silks but saving their lives. The three of them ran for cover as other demons launched projectiles their way.

They know, Renna realized. The minds can see through the eyes of their drones.

The thought filled her with anger, and she felt the greatward respond. She pulled at that strength, feeling it flood her with power, but it was power laced with pain, as if she had been dropped into a cauldron of boiling water. Unable to bear it for long, she drew a heat ward in the air at the offending demons and watched in satisfaction as three wood demons burst into flames and collapsed into ashes.

But then Renna felt her legs give way, barely catching herself with her hands before her face hit the ground. She gasped for breath and her throat felt scalded, eyes dry and burning. The strength that had flooded her a moment earlier had vanished, leaving her muscles weak and watery.

This what Arlen feels? she wondered. How does he stand it?

She forced herself to her feet, pulling at the greatward again, but this time it did not respond. She felt the power pulsing beneath her, strong as ever, but whatever connection she had found in her anger was gone now.

Yet looking at the chaos around her, she knew she had to do something. The Krasians were out of throwing spears, and the Haveners were now firing crude arrows that splintered against the rock demons' hard carapaces as often as they stuck. The barn fire was under control as folk threw buckets of water on the blaze, but flame demons were heating more stones, and soon the fires would be too numerous to contain. Wind demons rained smaller stones from the sky, and the other demons were massing, waiting for the wards to fail.

She reached for her belt, feeling the reassuring grip of her father's knife. Ent no easy way to plough a field, Harl used to say. Nothing for it but to bend your back and get it done.

The magic responded to her resolve, filling her with strength once more as she gave a cry and ran out into the night. Behind her she heard Kaval shout, followed by the sound of the Sharum locking shields and charging out after her.

And then it was a blur of tooth and claw and the hard metal of her knife as she dodged around the lesser demons, slashing and kicking, never slowing. Demon ichor arced into the air as she slashed the paw from a field demon, and kicked a flame demon in the throat just as it was about to spit at her, causing it to choke on its own fire. She heard the clatter of talons on shields and the spark of magic, the wet sound of spears piercing coreling scales and the screams of men pierced by coreling jaws.

And then she was at the first rock demon, stomping on the flame demon that was heating its stone. She used the flamer's back as a springboard, leaping high to plunge her knife into a gap in the armour plates of the demon's neck.

Even her father's long blade was not enough to cut the throat of a rock demon, but Renna used the grip to swing herself around behind the behemoth, whipping her brook stone necklace about its throat and pulling tight with all her weight. The warded stones flared to life, pressing inward using the coreling's own strength against it. After a few moments, the head popped free with a flare of magic and a shower of ichor. Renna hit the ground in a crouch, seeking her next target.

Only to find her targets seeking her. The eyes of every demon in the field had turned to lock on her, like a thousand cats staring at a single mouse.

Rojer looked on in amazement as Renna drew a ward in the air, and the demons that had tried to kill him exploded into flames, shrieking as they fell to the ground, blackened and smoking. From the look on her face, she was as surprised as he was.

Hope came alive in him for an instant, remembering the power Arlen had wielded the night before. But then he saw the young woman stagger, and heard Arlen speak in his head. Ent no such thing as a Deliverer, Rojer. Folk want to be saved, they're gonna have to learn to save themselves.

Renna seemed to realize it, too, giving up on the magic and charging into the night, cutting a path through the chaos much as Arlen had in the Battle of Cutter's Hollow, taking down a rock demon while he still gaped from behind the embankment where he and his wives had taken cover.

Kaval led his warriors in Renna's wake, and for once Rojer was thankful for the presence of the brutal drillmaster and Sharum. Where the Haveners mostly shook with fear and indecision, the Krasians moved as a tight unit, shields locked together, protecting their brothers. They thrust their spears as one, mowing down field demons like hay before the scythe.

It seemed the battle might turn if they could take out the rock demons, but then something terrifying happened. The demons all locked gazes on Renna, ignoring every other target to charge her. Even the rock demons dropped their missiles, leaping for the girl with their giant talons leading.

Renna lasted a few seconds, literally running across the backs of field demons with the grace of a dancing master. A snow demon spat at her, but she dodged aside and the coldspit struck the leg of a rock demon instead. The spot turned white with rime, and she gave a well-placed kick that shattered the demon's leg. It fell into the press, adding to the chaos.

But then a wood demon hurled a section of trunk at her, clipping her with enough force to throw her several yards before she struck the ground. Renna put her hands under her, struggling to rise, but the opening was all the demons needed. Their teeth and claws found little purchase as her blackstem wards flared, but here and there they found gaps and dug in. She bled freely, and soon her wards would be marred and useless.

Kaval cried out and the Sharum made a valiant effort to save her, but one of the demons before them reared up, its body elongating to tower over them as it grew a long, horned tentacle that it used to slash over the tops of their shields. The warriors wore metal helms under their turbans, fine warded steel, but the demon slashed through them like fruit, killing several of the warriors instantly.

Kaval gave a shrill whistle and the Sharum broke formation and reassembled in a new configuration, surrounding the demon, which could only be the mimic Arlen and Leesha spoke of. It was a tactic Rojer had seen before. They would wait for the demon to strike, those in front locking shields defensively while those behind struck.

But the mimic demon was like nothing they had ever faced. It twisted impossibly as they tried to get behind it, and when that was not enough it grew eyes all around its head and additional tentacles until it faced every warrior at once. Tentacles snatched up fallen warriors by their legs and swung them like clubs to knock others aside. Even when the Sharum were lucky enough to strike a blow, their spears seemed to pass through with a puff of smoke, leaving the demon unharmed when they withdrew. Arrows rained in on the creature, but they, too, fell to the ground having done no harm.

Again and again, Sharum fell to the mimic's return blows, but they came on fearlessly. This was the sort of death Krasian warriors prayed for, though Rojer could not understand the notion. Kaval leapt forward, and the demon knocked the shield from his grasp. The drillmaster seemed unfazed, spinning his spear faster than Rojer could see as he parried tentacles, buying his warriors time to strike.

But then the demon's maw grew several times its size, and it bit Drillmaster Kaval in half, swallowing his head and torso before his legs and abdomen even knew to fall.

The sight shocked Rojer from his daze, and he saw Renna still struggling, caught in the grip of several wood demons attempting to carry her off.

They want her alive, he realized.

He was playing before he knew it, stepping out of cover and moving for the fray. He was dimly aware of Amanvah, Sikvah, and Enkido following him as he headed for the edge of the wardnet, but he ignored them, ignored everything but the music as he stepped out into the naked night. He made no effort to mask his presence. Quite the contrary, he drew the attention of every demon in earshot, causing them to lock in on him much as they had on Renna a few moments earlier.

Freeze, he told them. Prey approaches. Be ready to pounce.

They did, talons tearing at the soil as they tamped down powerful limbs, preparing to spring. Even the demons trying to steal away with Renna stopped in their tracks, as he had intended.

Only the mimic demon was unaffected, leaping out of the ring of Sharum and charging at him like a nightmare come to life.

Rojer allowed himself a smile, and filled the night with pain, the lure of his magic turning to harsh discordance that had the demons shrieking and clawing at their own heads. Even the mimic felt it, pulling up short with a bone-chilling cry.

Amanvah and Sikvah added their voices to his power, the three of them reaching new heights of union in their disharmony, hora magic making the screeching sounds pierce the night for miles. Lesser demons fled the sound, but Rojer and his wives circled the mimic, building on its pain. Rojer experimented, learning more of what hurt the creature the longer he played.

The demon writhed in pain, tentacles pressing against its head as it melted and shifted, becoming a roaring rock demon, and then a howling wood. A shrieking wind demon and even a screaming human man. Again and again it changed form, but Rojer and his wives changed their sounds to match, giving no respite. The shifts became erratic, the mimic's flesh bubbling and sloughing off into a growing puddle of goo at its feet.

Got you now, you son of the Core. Rojer's smile was grim as he pressed in for the kill.