The Demon Cycle Books 1-3 and Novellas: The Painted Man, The Desert Spear, The Daylight War plus The Great Bazaar and Brayan’s Gold and Messenger’s Legacy. Peter V. Brett
know you got it back!’ Leesha shouted, whipping the coil of rope and wooden plates to the cave floor. ‘How?’
‘I took it when I took the horse,’ the Painted Man said suddenly. ‘I didn’t want it on your conscience, so I kept it from you.’
‘You stole it?’
‘They stole it,’ the Painted Man corrected. ‘I took it back.’
Leesha looked at him for a long time. ‘You took it at night,’ she said quietly.
The Painted Man said nothing.
‘Were they using it?’ Leesha demanded through gritted teeth.
‘The road is dangerous enough without such men,’ the Painted Man replied.
‘You murdered them,’ Leesha said, surprised to find her eyes filling with tears. Find the worst human being you can, her father had said, and you’ll still find something worse by looking out the window at night. No one deserved to be fed to a coreling. Not even them. ‘How could you?’ she asked
‘I murdered no one,’ the Painted Man said.
‘As good as!’
The man shrugged. ‘They did the same to you.’
‘That makes it right?’ Leesha cried. ‘Look at you! You don’t even care! Two men dead at least, and you sleep no worse! You’re a monster!’ She sprang at him, trying to beat him with her fists, but he caught her wrists, and watched impassively as she struggled with him.
‘Why do you care?’ he asked.
‘I’m an Herb Gatherer!’ she screamed. ‘I’ve taken an oath! I’ve sworn to heal, but you,’ she looked at him coldly, ‘all you’re sworn to do is kill.’
After a moment, the fight left her and she pulled away. ‘You mock what I am,’ she said, slumping down and staring at the cave floor for several minutes. Then she looked up at Rojer.
‘You said “we”,’ she accused.
‘What?’ the Jongleur asked, trying to appear confused.
‘Before,’ she clarified. ‘You said “we got it back”. And the circle was in your bag. Did you go with him?’
‘I …’ Rojer stalled.
‘Don’t you lie to me, Rojer!’ Leesha growled.
Rojer’s eyes dropped to the floor. After a moment, he nodded.
‘He was telling the truth before,’ Rojer admitted. ‘All he took was the horse. While they were distracted, I took the circle and your herbs.’
‘Why?’ Leesha asked, her voice cracking slightly. The disappointment in her tone cut the young Jongleur like a knife.
‘You know why,’ Rojer replied sombrely.
‘Why?’ Leesha demanded again. ‘For me? For my honour? Tell me, Rojer. Tell me you killed in my name!’
‘They had to pay,’ Rojer said tightly. ‘They had to pay for what they did. It was unforgivable.’
Leesha laughed out loud, though there was no humour in the sound. ‘Don’t you think I know that?’ she shouted. ‘Do you think I saved myself for twenty-seven years to give my flower to a gang of thugs?’
Silence hung in the cave for a long moment. A peal of thunder cut the air.
‘Saved yourself …’ Rojer echoed.
‘Yes, corespawn you!’ Leesha shrieked, angry tears streaking her face. ‘I was a virgin! Does even that justify giving men to the corelings?’
‘Giving?’ the Painted Man echoed.
Leesha whirled on him. ‘Of course, giving!’ she shouted. ‘I’m sure your friends the demons were overjoyed at your little present. Nothing pleases them more than having humans to kill. With so few of us left, we’re a rare treat!’
The Painted Man’s eyes widened, reflecting the firelight. It was a more human expression than Leesha had ever seen on his face, and the sight made her momentarily forget her anger. He looked utterly terrified, and backed away from them, all the way to the cave mouth.
Just then, a coreling threw itself against the wardnet, filling the cave with a flash of silver light. The Painted Man whirled and screamed at the demon, a sound unlike anything Leesha had ever heard, but one she recognized all the same. It was a vocalization of what she had felt inside when she had been pinned, that terrible evening on the road.
The Painted Man snatched up one of his spears, hurling it out into the rain. There was an explosion of magic as it struck the demon, blasting it into the mud.
‘Damn you!’ the Painted Man roared, ripping off his robes and leaping out into the downpour. ‘I swore I would give you nothing! Nothing at all!’ He pounced on a wood demon from behind, crushing it to him. The massive ward on his chest flared, and the coreling burst into flame, despite the pouring rain. He kicked away as the creature flailed about.
‘Fight me!’ the Painted Man demanded of the others, planting his feet in the mud. Corelings leapt to oblige, slashing and biting, but the man fought like a demon himself, and they were flung away like autumn leaves against the wind.
From the rear of the cave, Twilight Dancer whinnied and pulled at his hobble, trained to fight by his master’s side. Rojer moved to calm the animal, looking to Leesha in confusion.
‘He can’t fight them all,’ Leesha said. ‘Not in the mud.’ Already, many of the man’s wards were splattered with muck.
‘He means to die,’ she said.
‘What should we do?’ Rojer asked.
‘Your fiddle!’ Leesha cried. ‘Drive them away!’
Rojer shook his head. ‘The wind and thunder would drown me out,’ he said.
‘We can’t just let him kill himself!’ Leesha screamed at him.
‘You’re right,’ Rojer agreed. He strode over to the Painted Man’s weapons, taking a light spear and the warded shield. Realizing what he meant to do, Leesha moved to stop him, but he stepped out of the cave before she could reach him, rushing to the Painted Man’s side.
A flame demon spat fire at Rojer, but it fizzled in the rain and fell short. The coreling leapt at him, but he lifted the warded shield and the creature was deflected. His concentration in front, he didn’t see the other flame demon behind him until it was too late. The coreling sprang, but the Painted Man snatched the three-foot tall demon right out of the air, hurling it away, its flesh sizzling at his touch.
‘Get inside!’ the man ordered.
‘Not without you!’ Rojer shot back. His red hair was soaked and matted to his face, and he squinted in the wind and pelting rain, but he faced the Painted Man squarely, not backing down an inch.
Two wood demons leapt for them, but the Painted Man dropped to the mud, sweeping Rojer’s legs from under him. The slashing claws missed as the Jongleur fell, and the Painted Man’s warded fists drove the creatures back. Other corelings were gathering, though, attracted by the flashes of light and the sounds of battle. Too many to fight.
The Painted Man looked at Rojer, lying in the mud, and the madness left his eyes. He held out a hand, and the Jongleur took it. The two of them darted back into the cave.
‘What were you thinking?’ Leesha demanded, tying off the last of the bandages. ‘Both of you!’
Rojer and the Painted Man, bundled in blankets by the fire, said nothing as she berated them. After a time, she trailed