Leesha lay still, knowing that if she moved, her mother would hit her again. Her cheek felt like it was on fire.

Seeing her daughter humbled, Elona took a deep breath, and seemed to calm. “It’s no matter,” she said. “I’ve always thought you needed a knocking from the pedestal your idiot father put you on. You’ll marry Gared soon enough, and folk will tire of whispering eventually.”

Leesha steeled herself. “I’m not marrying him,” she said. “He’s a liar, and I won’t do it.”

“Oh, yes you will,” Elona said.

“I won’t,” Leesha said, the words giving her strength as she rose to her feet. “I won’t say the words, and there’s nothing you can do to make me.”

“We’ll just see about that,” Elona said, snatching off her belt. It was a thick leather strap with a metal buckle that she always wore loosely around her waist. Leesha thought she wore it just to have it at hand to beat her.

She came at Leesha, who shrieked and retreated into the kitchen before realizing it was the last place she should have gone. There was only one way in or out.

She screamed as the buckle cut through her dress and into her back. Elona swung again, and Leesha threw herself at her mother in desperation. As they tumbled to the floor, she heard the door open, and Steave’s voice. At the same time, there was a questioning call from the shop.

Elona made good use of the distraction, punching her daughter full in the face. She was on her feet in an instant, whipping the belt into Leesha, drawing another scream from her lips.

“What in the Core is going on?” came a cry from the doorway. Leesha looked up to see her father struggling to get into the kitchen, blocked by Steave’s meaty arm.

“Get out of my way!” Erny cried.

“This is between them,” Steave said with a grin.

“This is my home you’re a guest in!” Erny cried. “Get out of the way!”

When Steave did not budge, Erny punched him.

Everyone froze. It wasn’t clear that Steave had felt the punch at all. He broke the sudden silence with a laugh, casually shoving Erny and sending him flying into the common room.

“You ladies settle yur differences in private,” Steave said with a wink, pulling the kitchen door shut as Leesha’s mother rounded on her once more.

Leesha wept quietly in the back room of her father’s shop, daubing gently at her cuts and bruises. Had she the proper herbs, she could have done more, but cold water and cloth were all she had.

She had fled into the shop right after her ordeal, locking the doors from the inside, and ignoring even the gentle knocks of her father. When the wounds were clean and the deepest cuts bound, Leesha curled up on the floor, shaking with pain and shame.

“You’ll marry Gared the day you bleed,” Elona had promised, “or we’ll do this every day until you do.”

Leesha knew she meant it, and knew Gared’s rumor would have many people taking her mother’s side and insisting they wed, ignoring Leesha’s bruises as they had many times before.

I won’t do it, Leesha promised herself. I’ll give myself to the night first.

Just then, a cramp wracked her guts. Leesha groaned, and felt dampness on her thighs. Terrified, she swabbed herself with a clean cloth, praying fervently, but there, like a cruel joke of the Creator, was blood.

Leesha shrieked. She heard an answering call from the house.

There was a pounding at the door. “Leesha, are you all right?” her father called.

Leesha didn’t answer, staring at the blood in horror. Was it only two days ago she had been praying for it to come? Now she looked at it as if it had come from the Core.

“Leesha, open the door this instant, or you’ll have night to pay!” her mother screeched.

Leesha ignored her.

“If you don’t listen to yur mother and open this door before I count to ten, Leesha, I swear I will break it down!” Steave boomed.

Fear gripped Leesha as Steave began to count. She had no doubt he could and would splinter the heavy wooden door with a single blow. She ran to the outer door, throwing it open.

It was almost dark. The sky was deep purple, and the last sliver of sun would dip below the horizon in mere minutes.

“Five!” Steave called. “Four! Three!”

Leesha sucked in her breath and ran from the house.

CHAPTER 6

THE SECRETS OF FIRE

319 AR

LEESHA LIFTED HER SKIRTS HIGH and ran for all she was worth, but it was over a mile to Bruna’s hut, and she knew deep down she could never make it in time. Her family’s cries rang out behind her, the sound muted by the pounding of her heart and the thud of her feet.

There was a sharp stitch in her side, and her back and thighs were on fire from Elona’s belt. She stumbled, and scraped her hands catching herself. She forced herself upright, ignoring the pain and driving forward on pure will.

Halfway to the Herb Gatherer, the light faded, and the new night beckoned the demons from the Core. Dark mists began to rise, coalescing into harsh alien forms.

Leesha did not want to die. She knew that now; too late. But even if she wished to turn back, home was farther away now than Bruna’s hut, and there was nothing in between. Erny had purposefully built his house away from the others, after complaints about the smell of his chemicals. She had no choice but to go on, heading toward Bruna’s hut at the woods’ edge, where the wood demons gathered in force.

A few corelings swiped at her as she passed, but they were still insubstantial, and found no purchase. She felt cold as their claws passed through her breast, as if she had been touched by a ghost, but there was no pain, and she did not slow.

There were no flame demons this close to the woods. Wood demons killed flame demons on sight. Firespit could set a wood demon alight, even if normal fire could not. A wind demon solidified in front of her, but Leesha dodged around it, and the creature’s spindly legs were not equipped to pursue her afoot. It shrieked at her as she ran on.

She glimpsed a light ahead; the lantern that hung by Bruna’s front door. She put on a last burst of speed, crying out, “Bruna! Bruna, please open your door!”

There was no reply, and the door remained shut, but the way was clear, and she dared to think she might make it.

But then an eight-foot wood demon stepped in her path.

And hope died.

The demon roared, showing rows of teeth like kitchen knives. It made Steave look puny by comparison, all thick twisted sinew covered by knobbed, barklike armor.

Leesha drew a ward in the air before her, silently praying that the Creator grant her a quick death. Tales said that demons consumed the soul as well as the body. She supposed she was about to find out.

The demon stalked toward her, closing the gap steadily, waiting to see which way she would try to run. Leesha knew she should do just that, but even had she not been paralyzed with fear, there was nowhere to run. The coreling stood between her and the only hope of succor.

There was a creak as Bruna’s front door opened, spilling more light into the yard. The demon turned as the old hag shuffled into view.

“Bruna!” Leesha cried. “Stay behind the wards! There’s a wood demon in the yard!”

“My eyes aren’t what they used to be, dearie,” Bruna replied, “but I’m not about to miss an ugly beast like that.”