Before she could recover, the demon leapt from the water, landing on the bank and trying again. She rolled to the side, but the tongue caught her about the thigh, slowly drawing her in. Renna dropped her spear to claw at the riverbank, but to no avail. The coreling’s mouth, wide enough to swallow her whole, was filled with row upon row of short, sharp teeth.

Renna ignored it, turning instead to Arlen, who was already running her way.

“You stay out of this, Arlen Bales!” she growled, stopping him short.

She was almost in range of the bank demon’s teeth when she turned back to it. She flicked the sandal off her free foot and kicked it in the jaw with a flash of magic. The demon’s tongue slackened slightly, and Renna twisted, cutting right through it with her knife. As the coreling recoiled, she leapt to her feet, stabbing it in the eye. She hopped back to avoid its death thrashes, then moved in quick, putting her knife in its other eye to ensure the kill.

She looked back at Arlen, daring him to criticize. He said nothing, but there was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth, and his eyes glittered.

There was shouting from the hut, and lamplight flickered in one of its windows, roused by the commotion.

“Time to go,” Arlen said.

The one was on the move. The coreling prince hissed in frustration, but immediately leapt upon its mimic’s back and took to the sky, following his trail.

It had been a risk, letting the human live another cycle, but one the mind demon had deemed acceptable in hope that it might learn how the one had come into powers long since stamped away. The one killed drones nightly, but their number was insignificant, as were the weapons he spread. He was not a unifier, like the dangerous one to the south.

But it was in his power to be. If he but called, human drones would flock to him, and if that happened, they could threaten the hive.

And now he was moving with great decision back toward the human breeding grounds. The coreling prince was certain he would call to the human drones then, and a unification would begin. That could not be tolerated.

The mind demon spent the remainder of the first night tracking the one. Just before dawn it reached the river and hissed when its prey came into sight. Nothing could be done now with the sun about to rise, but it would find them quickly the next night.

The mimic dropped lightly to the riverbank, bending low so the coreling prince could dismount. As they began to dematerialize, the mimic growled softly, sensing its master’s anticipation for the kill.

Renna and Arlen kept riding when the sun rose, passing a branch in the road with an old signpost a few hours later.

“Ent stopping in the town?” Renna asked.

Arlen looked at her. “You can read?”

“Course not,” Renna said. “Don’t need to read to know what a sign on the road is for.”

“Point,” Arlen said, and she could sense him grinning beneath his hood. “Ent got time to waste with other towns right now. I need to get to the Hollow quick.”

“Why?” Renna asked.

Arlen looked at her for a long moment, considering. “A friend’s got herself into a fix,” he said at last, “and I reckon it’s more than a little my fault for staying away so long.”

Renna felt a cold hand clutch her heart. “What friend? Who is she?”

“Leesha Paper,” he said. “Herb Gatherer of Deliverer’s Hollow.”

Renna swallowed. “Is she pretty?” She cursed herself the moment the words left her lips.

Arlen turned his head back to her with a look that mixed annoyance and amusement. “Why does it still feel like we’re ten summers old?”

Renna smiled. “Because I’m not one of these folk sees you as the Deliverer. They din’t see the look on your face after you clicked teeth with Beni in the hayloft.”

“Your kiss was better,” Arlen admitted. She tightened her arms around his waist, but he shifted uncomfortably.

“We’ll cut off the road soon,” he said. “Too many folk on it these days. There’s a path I know will take us to one of my caches for fresh weapons and supplies. From there we can ford the Angiers River and be in the Hollow in a couple of nights.”

Renna nodded, swallowing a yawn. She had felt charged with energy after killing the bank demon, but as always, that added strength had faded away with the sun. She dozed in the saddle for a time until Arlen gently shook her awake.

“Best dismount and put your cloak on,” he said. “Getting dark, and we have a few hours left to go before we get to my cache.”

Renna nodded, and he pulled the horse up. They were in a sparsely wooded area with tall conifer trees spaced widely enough that they could walk on either side of Twilight Dancer. She dropped from the saddle, her sandals crunching on the forest floor.

She reached into her satchel and drew forth the warded cloak. “Hate wearing this thing.”

“Don’t care what you hate,” Arlen said. “Corelings are thicker this side of the Dividing; more towns and ruins to draw them. Treetops around here get rife with woodies, swinging from branch to branch and dropping on you from above.”

Renna looked up suddenly, expecting a demon to be hurtling toward her at that very moment, but of course they had not risen yet. The sun was only just setting.

As the shadows grew, Renna watched the mist rise slowly through the detritus of needle and cone carpeting the ground between the trees. It curled around the tree trunks like smoke rising up a chimney.

“What are they doing?” she asked.

“Some like to materialize up in the trees, out of sight so you don’t see ’em coming,” Arlen said. “They usually wait till you pass, then drop on your back.”

Renna thought of the rock demon she had killed in similar fashion, and drew her warded cloak tighter about her, glancing up in every direction.

“There’s one up ahead,” Arlen said. “Watch close.” He let her take Twilight Dancer’s lead and walked a few feet ahead of them.

“Ent you gonna take your robe off?” Renna asked, but Arlen shook his head.

“Gonna show you a trick,” he said. “Don’t even need your skin warded, you do it right.”

Renna nodded, watching intently. They walked a bit farther, and then, as predicted, there was a rustle from above and a bark-skinned demon fell from the trees toward Arlen’s back.

But Arlen was ready. He twisted and ducked his head under one of the falling demon’s armpits, putting his free arm around the coreling’s neck from behind, grasping it under the snout. With a sharp pivot, he turned, letting the force of the demon’s own fall break its neck.

“Sweet day,” Renna gasped.

“There’s several ways to do it,” Arlen said, putting a warded finger sizzling through the fallen demon’s eye to confirm the kill, “but the principle’s the same for all. Sharusahk is about using their power against them, like wards do. It’s how the Krasians survived these last centuries, fighting alagai’sharak every night.”

“They’re so good at killing demons, why do you hate ’em so?” Renna asked.

“Don’t hate the Krasians,” Arlen said, and then paused. “Not all of them, anyway. But their way of life, making slaves of everyone who ent a man and a warrior…it ent right.’specially not forced on Thesans at the end of a spear.”