Then they would begin to feel invincible.
“This here,” Wonda held up a long metal tube with braided steel rope extended in a loop at the end, “is a Krasian weapon called an alagai-catcher.” She whipped the loop over a hitching post in the yard, tightening it in an instant with a twist and pull. “Each of you go and take one. I set coreling traps in the Gatherers’ Wood. We’re going to use these to haul demons out so we can use ’em for practice.”
“Ay, just like that?” Keet asked. “We ent gonna, dunno, practice in the yard a bit before going into the naked night?” Others murmured their agreement.
Leesha kept the smile from her face. Naked night, indeed. Leesha had greatwards and warded paths throughout her land. The children might feel they were out with the demons, but in truth they would be in safe succor almost the entire time.
But it was important they get in contact with demons as soon as possible, and the feeling of constant danger would keep them respectful. This was no game.
It was like a dream, watching Wonda lead the children away. The world had become fuzzed at the edges. Her focus remained sharp, even after ten straight hours of warding. Pain in her temple throbbed and turned her stomach, but it was a near constant companion now, and she had learned to shut it out.
But as the last of the children vanished into the darkness at the edge of her wardsight, she began to fill the vacuum with images. Callen Cutter screaming for his mother as he slowly bled out from talon wounds. Brianne would never speak to her again. Nor Smitt, if anything should happen to Stela or Keet. An image flashed across her mind of a wood demon biting Stela’s head clean off. Her heart would still beat a few times before it her body realized it was dead. The blood would jet high into the air.
She shook herself out of the vision, rubbing her eyes. At last. At last she was free to sleep, lest she go insane. If Arlen, Ahmann, and Thamos all walked into her yard this instant and began fighting one another for her hand, she would still go to bed.
Her stride was strong as she headed for her cottage door, but her mind was already in its nightgown, blowing out the candles. Her bed would be warm and soft.
“Mistress Leesha!” the frantic call came from behind. Leesha didn’t recognize the voice, but the tone was clear. Having seen her, this was not someone who would stop until they spoke.
She took a deep breath, counting to five as her mind threw on a robe. Her countess smile was back in place as she turned to face the woman, recognizing her immediately from the hours she had spent at her daughter’s bedside in the hospit. Lusy Yarnballer. Kendall’s mother.
Yarnballer was not a proper surname, rather a jibe that had stuck when the spinner’s apprentice had never developed a skill with the spindle. Lusy was a sweet but altogether unremarkable woman who had somehow managed to produce an exceptional daughter.
“A bit late for a social call, Lusy,” she said.
Lusy dipped a curtsy. “Apologies, mistress. Wouldn’t have bothered you if it wern’t important.” She choked on a sob. “Just don’t know who else to turn to.”
Leesha’s mind shook off its robe and put a dress back on. Her sigh was invisible as she went over to the woman and took her in her arms. “There, child,” she said, though Lusy was years her senior. “It can’t be as bad as all that. Come inside and I’ll brew some tea.”
Lusy blubbered interminably in Leesha’s sitting room. Leesha sat in Bruna’s rocking chair, the old woman’s shawl wrapped around her. More than once her eyes slipped closed, and it was only the fall of her head as she drifted off that startled her awake.
At last, the mild sedative Leesha had put in the woman’s tea took effect, and she calmed.
“All right, Lusy,” she said. “I’ve enjoyed our visit, but it’s time we got to the point.”
Lusy nodded. “Sorry, mistress, I just don’t know—”
“—what to do. Yes, you’ve said,” Leesha’s patience was at an end. “About what?”
“About Kendall and those Krasian witches!” Lusy all but shrieked.
Leesha looked at her curiously. “Who? Amanvah and Sikvah?”
“Ay, you know what they did?” Lusy demanded.
“I’m sure I don’t,” Leesha said, though she had a sinking suspicion. “Why don’t you take another sip of tea, lower your voice, and start at the beginning.”
Lusy nodded, taking a noisy slurp from her cup and letting out a long shuddering breath. “They came to me this afternoon. Said they wanted to buy Kendall from me. Buy her! Like a ripping sheep!”
“Buy her?” Leesha asked, though she knew full well by now what the woman meant.
“As a whore for that coreson Rojer,” Lusy said. “Seems two wives ent enough of an abomination for him. Wants my sweet Kendall for his harem, too. Plans to breed her like a cow, to hear them put it.”
“The Krasians can be … indelicate in these matters,” Leesha said carefully. “Marriage is a contract to them, but when the negotiations are through they take their vows no less seriously than we. I am sure they meant no insult.”
“Like I give a demon’s shit what they meant,” Lusy said. “Told them Rojer could have Kendall over my dead body.”
Poor choice of words. Leesha wouldn’t put it past Amanvah make it so.
“Them two harlots went off in a huff, acting like I was the one being rude,” Lusy continued. “Then not twenty minutes later, Kendall is in my face, cryin’ and screamin’, saying she’s marryin’ Rojer and that’s that. Told her no Tender would let her put hand to the Canon and vow to be a man’s third wife, and you know what she said?”
“Do tell,” Leesha sighed.
“Said she didn’t care. Said the Core with Canon and Tenders both. Said she’d make her oath on an Evejack—”
“Evejah,” Leesha corrected.
“Book of sin,” Lusy countered. “Kendall’s always had her eye on Rojer, but not like this. Girl’s got no sense! Bad enough them Krasian tramps witched poor Rojer off the Creator’s path, but I ent gonna let them take my daughter as well.”
“You may not have a choice,” Leesha said.
Lusy looked up at her, startled. “Night, mistress, you can’t possibly approve.”
“Of course not.” Leesha was already planning the scolding she was going to give Rojer. “But Kendall’s a grown woman with the right to choose her own path.”
“Don’t think you’d be so calm,” Lusy said, “it was your daughter being bid on like a laying hen.”
Leesha raised an eyebrow and Lusy started, suddenly remembering she was talking to the future Countess of the Hollow, a woman who had herself been the subject of Krasian bride bidding. She could not match Leesha’s stare and looked down, trying to bury her face in her teacup. She gulped too fast, and coughed. “Meant no offense, mistress. Course you understand.”
“I daresay I do,” Leesha said. “I will speak to Rojer and Amanvah as soon as possible, and summon you again when it’s done.”
“Thank you, mistress,” Lusy got to her feet, bowing awkwardly as she backed out of the room, turned, and scurried away.