The Desert Spear

“I’m sorry, Ren,” the Painted Man said. “Din’t mean for this. Warned you.”

Both Rennas nodded. “I know. Ent your fault.”

The Painted Man raised his bow at them. “Ent gonna be able to save you this time, Ren,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Not even if I knew which one was you.” Renna bit back a sob, and he could almost feel the mind demon’s pleasure.

“So you’re gonna have to be strong and save yourself,” he said. “ ’Cause that monster’s the face of evil, and I ent gonna let it get away.”

The mind demon stiffened as it realized what he meant, but it was a second too late, as the Painted Man dropped his bow and leapt at it, covering the distance between them in an instant. Before it could command Renna and the mimic to kill each other, his warded fist struck the coreling prince’s bulbous head with an explosion of magic.

The slender demon was thrown several feet by the force of the blow and landed on its back, hissing in rage. Its cranium throbbed, and the Painted Man could feel the thrum of power it sent out, though it did him no harm.

Behind him, the mimic shrieked, but the Painted Man ignored it, leaping at the mind demon again, pinning it and delivering heavy blows. Each wound healed instantly, but he did not let up, keeping it stunned until he could find a way to kill it. If it dematerialized, he was prepared now to match wills against it.

But the mind demon stayed solid, perhaps fearing just such a thing. With each blow, it grew more dazed, taking a split second longer to recover. The Painted Man slipped around the demon into a sharusahk choke hold, the pressure wards on his forearms growing warm as they flared against its throat, building power. It would be over in seconds.

But then a wind demon crashed into him, breaking the hold and knocking them apart. The Painted Man rolled atop the wind demon and struck it hard in the throat, stunning it, but a wood demon swung down at him from the trees before he could finish it off. It was followed quickly by several more.

The mind demon felt its connection to the mimic sever when the shock from one’s blow blasted through its skull. It had never known such pain. In the ten thousand years since it was hatched, no creature had ever dared to strike the coreling prince. It was unthinkable.

The demon struck the ground hard, and immediately sent its distress out in a general call. Drones would come from all around to answer it. The mimic answered with a cry, but failed to come. The human leapt atop the mind demon, hammering it about the head with his wards.

Used to fighting through its mimic, the mind demon was unprepared for the pain and confusion of physical combat. The human gave it no time to recover, and it was helpless to prevent the one establishing a primitive dominance hold. His wards activated, sucking the coreling prince’s own magic and turning it into pain.

That might have been the end, but at last a wind drone answered its call, knocking into the one and breaking his hold. Other drones followed, flocking to defend the coreling prince. The moment it was knocked away, the mind demon healed its wounds, hissing in outrage at the affront. It sent another call, meaning to bury the one in drones. It could sense dozens of them in the area, running hard to join the melee, but the mimic was strangely absent.

The human flung the wood drones from its path, charging the coreling prince again, but this time it was ready, drawing a ward that sent a blast of air to strike the one like a physical blow, hurling him across the clearing. By the time he rose, he was surrounded again by wood drones. At the mind demon’s command, they broke branches from the trees to use as weapons, circumventing even the muddied wards of forbiddance on the human’s skin.

The mimicking of her words and actions was horrifying enough, but Renna was truly revulsed when the mind demon rose up to take control of her voice and she realized it had been hiding within her all along, like a stowaway suddenly taking control of the cart.

It was an unspeakable violation, worse than anything Harl had ever done to her. Worse than the outhouse, worse than being staked at night. She could feel the demon burrowing through her thoughts like a field vole, taking her most cherished and private memories to use as weapons against Arlen.

The thought filled her with rage, and she sensed the mind demon’s pleasure at the response. I’ve taken you before, it whispered in her thoughts. Many times.

Renna looked at Arlen, and despaired at the resignation in his eyes. She had thought she was strong enough to walk his path. That she could do anything he could. But now that lie was proven. All she could do was get him killed.

She choked on a sob and tried to raise her knife to bury it in her own throat, but the mind demon controlled her body like a Jongleur’s puppet, and she could not act against its will. Even if Arlen guessed right and somehow managed to kill the mimic, the mind demon could make her stab him in the heart just as easily. She wanted to warn him, but the words would not come.

But then the look in Arlen’s eyes changed, as if he had come to some decision, and he gazed at her with a trust no one had ever shown her before.

“You’re gonna have to be strong and save yourself,” he said. “ ’Cause that monster’s the face of evil, and I ent gonna let it get away.”

Her fear fell away at that look, and her eyes hardened. She nodded, and felt the mind demon’s sudden start, taking Arlen’s meaning the same moment she did. It tried to react, but it was not quick enough as Arlen struck a blow to its head that lit the darkness with magic.

The demon’s presence in her mind vanished, leaving Renna stunned and disoriented. She glanced at the mimic, still in her form, and saw it stagger similarly, cut off from its mind.

Tightening her grip on her father’s knife, Renna growled and leapt at the creature, putting the blade into its bare midriff. She put her free arm around the demon, pulling it in close as the blackstem wards on her skin activated. Magic shocked through her muscles, filling her with strength as she heaved the knife upward, opening up the creature from navel to collar.

The mimic’s body may have looked like her on the outside, but the black, stinking ichor that burst from the wound was nothing from the surface world.

She looked at its face, the same face she had seen a thousand times in the surface of water. Renna was almost brought to tears by the pain and confusion in her own eyes, but then the face snarled like a dog, and its teeth began to elongate as it hissed at her.

Renna twisted as the mimic lunged, turning its own energy against it as Arlen had taught her. She grabbed its thick braid in her free hand as it passed, pulling it up short from its fall and baring its nape. The move gave such power to her pivot and slash that her knife passed through its neck effortlessly.

Just like that, the fight was over. The demon’s body fell to the ground lifelessly, and she was left holding her own head by the hair, eyes rolled back and black ichor dripping from the neck. She inhaled, taking what seemed like her first breath in hours.

She looked up, expecting to see the mind demon dead at Arlen’s feet, but instead she saw Arlen surrounded by wood demons holding branches in their claws, and the mind demon backing away. The corelings took no notice of her yet, focused solely on Arlen.

Renna looked around, dropping the head to the ground as she snatched up her warded cloak. The mimic had torn the ties at its throat, but the garment was otherwise intact. Sheathing her knife, she flung the cloak around her shoulders, putting up the hood and using both hands to hold it closed from the inside.