“Maybe you should go back and wait at the inn with Bobo,” Corec said to Katrin as the group headed to the constabulary building.

“But what if I can help?” she said, hefting the flute she held in her left hand.

He sighed. “The only weapon you’ve got is that dagger. I worry about you.”

“I wasn’t the one that rushed straight at a group of five ogres.”

“That’s different.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh?”

“I trained for that sort of thing, and you don’t wear any armor.”

“The armor didn’t seem to do you much good last time. Don’t worry about me; I know how to stay out of the way. And I’m not helpless anymore. Not completely, at least.”

“All right, I’ll stop pushing. I wish you’d wear some armor, though.”

Katrin frowned. “Bards are supposed to be arcane mages, right?”

“That’s what Lastal said, anyway.”

“Well, if most arcane mages are affected by metal the way wizards are, wouldn’t my bardic abilities stop working? Besides, your armor is heavy. Even your chainmail by itself. I don’t think I could wear something like that.”

“What about a gambeson, like what Venni’s wearing? It doesn’t have metal, except for the buckles. She can still cast spells. It works pretty well against arrows and cuts, but you’d have to be careful not to get stabbed.”

Katrin glanced at the other woman’s long, padded jacket. “Oh, I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. It’s kind of bulky, though. I wouldn’t want to wear it all the time.”

“It gets hot, too, but you could just put it on when we’re doing something dangerous. Like now.”

“Where would we get one? That armor smith in Tyrsall?”

“No, not a smith. There are armorers that specialize in making them. I’m sure High Cove has someone, but we probably won’t be in town long enough. Women’s gambesons are custom fitted, and it might take a week to finish.”

“How much would it cost?”

“It’s not bad. A lot less than chainmail or plate armor, at least.”

“I guess the next time we stop somewhere for a while, we can look for one.”

Venni led the group into a large brick building. It was almost deserted, but a few men in constable’s uniforms hurried back and forth.

“Wait here,” she said. “The Chief Constable is expecting us. I’ll go see how he wants us to help.”

Katrin muttered, “Why do we keep ending up having to deal with constables and city guards?”

Corec laughed.

A few minutes later, Venni returned with a short, middle-aged man. “This is Senior Constable Wendt,” she said, then introduced everyone.

He looked them over with a frown. “Hmm. Duke Voss sent more of you than I expected. We should probably split you into two groups. With a constable and one of the baron’s guardsmen in each group, that’ll make you the same size as our other search parties.”

“Have you had any luck yet?” Corec asked.

The constable grunted. “We know a lot of places where the demons aren’t. That is, if there are any demons.”

“You don’t think there are?”

“Maybe some imps. As for the rest, it could just be the criminal element taking advantage of a city-wide panic to eliminate some of their rivals.”

“There are demons!” said a voice from behind them. “I’ve seen them.”

Corec turned to find a plain-looking young man who’d just come through the front entrance.

“You’ve seen them?” Wendt asked skeptically. “Where?”

“I can show you.”

“I recognize you,” Corec said. “You were at the Seagull’s Splendor earlier, at the table next to us.”

“Yes—I overheard you say you were looking for the demons. That’s why I came looking for you after I saw them. My name’s Aden.”

Venni said, “Tell us where you saw them and we’ll check it out.”

“It’s a warehouse down closer to the docks. I can show you which one.”

Corec frowned. It hadn’t been that long since they’d left the inn. Even if Aden had left before them, had there really been enough time for him to make it to the docks, then turn back around and track the group down at the constabulary building? Corec’s head felt funny each time he looked at the other man, as if he was supposed to know something about him.

“You don’t have to do that,” Venni said. “You stay here and let us handle it.”

“I can help you,” Aden insisted.

Venni gave him a hard stare. “It’s your life. Who else is going?”

#

Ellerie took her turn peering around the corner of the building toward the warehouse. There were no windows, so it was impossible to see what was inside.

“You’re sure they’re in there?” Boktar asked.

Aden shrugged. “I saw one go in earlier. I’m not sure if it’s still there. It was big—taller than a man—and it had wings.”

“I don’t know who owns the building,” Constable Wendt said. “I’ve never been assigned to this district. I’ll go to the palace and request a squad of the baron’s guards.”

“Wait,” Venni said. “If they’re there, we don’t want them escaping, and if they’re not, we’d just be wasting the baron’s time. We should go in and check.”

“You don’t want reinforcements?”

“I don’t want people panicking and getting in my way. I’ve fought demons before, and I was sent here to make sure no more of your people get killed.”

Hearing the lie, Ellerie scowled. Venni had been sent—before any people had been killed—to take care of a few imps. Yelena was on her way to handle the demons. Still, if Venni had actually fought demons before, perhaps she knew what she was talking about.

“Are we going in?” Corec asked.

Ellerie was still considering how to respond when Venni said, “Let’s go,” and the two of them strode off, Boktar close behind. Ellerie sighed and followed them, with the others trailing her.

While they approached the warehouse, Venni muttered one spell after another under her breath. Ellerie had never seen anyone cast that many spells in a row before, yet none of them had any visible effect.

Corec and Boktar reached the building first. Boktar drew his warhammer while Corec detached his greatsword from its harness and tossed the scabbard to the side. Then, the two men burst through the door and moved to the sides to let Venni through.

Ellerie came in right behind her. The section of the warehouse just in front of the door was nearly empty, but there were rows of stacked boxes at the far end and to either side. To their right, two monsters stepped out from behind a partial wall to investigate the noise. One was about six feet tall, with claws, while the other was a foot taller, with wings and a sword.

Venni ran toward the beasts at full speed, shouting out the indistinct words to one last spell. Just before she reached them, she held her left arm out, and a shield of green light formed in front of it. The nearest demon, the one with the claws, tried to strike at her, but she got the shield up in time to block, then drew her sword, which glowed a dark red. She struck at the demon, and then again, allowing it to hit her shield while she attacked.

Ellerie bided her time, not wanting to risk a spell since she couldn’t predict whether Venni would get in the way at the last minute.

While the tall blonde woman was focused on the first demon, the big one with the sword swung at her back. Venni ignored it, and the unmistakeable flash of a shield spell surrounded her body, blocking the strike with a loud clang. Despite how hard the demon had swung, the spell didn’t dissipate. Ellerie’s eyes widened—just how strong was the other woman? And that didn’t even count the magic shield on her arm. What was that spell called, anyway, since the phrase shield spell was already taken?

Before the second demon could swing again, Corec was there to block the attack with his own sword, Boktar following close behind. And then Aden, of all people. The man reached down to his sides and drew two curved daggers out of…somewhere. There weren’t any sheathes on his belt, so the knives must have been hidden in his clothing. Which likely meant he was a thug or a thief rather than the dockworker he appeared to be.

A new demon, eight feet tall and as thick around as an ogre, came lumbering toward the fray, but was far enough away that Ellerie saw her chance. She muttered the words to her beam spell, and the brilliant white light hit it in the chest. The demon didn’t fall, though, instead turning toward her and howling.

She cursed as she ran at it, drawing her rapier. There wasn’t enough time to cast another spell before it reached her, so she needed more distance, but the fastest way to get more distance was to get on its other side. When she drew close, it tried to catch her between its massive, clawed talons. She ducked underneath and stabbed toward its crotch as she ran past. It howled again, but now she was beyond it, and it stopped to peer around, confused. Ellerie grinned to herself. And Boktar wondered why she refused to wear armor.

Once she’d opened up enough of a gap between them, she stopped running so she could cast her dart spell, but before she began, she realized she wasn’t as drained as usual after casting the beam spell. She changed her plan and cast the beam spell again, this time aiming for the monster’s face. The beam hit it across the eyes and its wrinkled snout.

The demon stopped and made a noise, but this time it was more of a gurgle than a howl. Ellerie quickly cast her dart spell, sending three tiny darts of light toward the beast. It staggered, so she cast the same spell again, and this time it fell. Running over to it, she grasped her rapier firmly and tried to stab it in the neck, but she had a hard time piercing the skin. Taking a deep breath, she braced the hilt in both hands and stabbed down into its left eye instead, pushing her sword in as far as it would go. The beast finally stopped moving, but she repeated the process with its right eye just in case, then looked up at the rest of the battle.

#

Treya held back with Katrin, Shavala, and the constable. She wanted to help, but Corec and Venni were swinging their swords around without much regard to anything nearby. Then, a third demon showed up. Ellerie cast a spell, than ran at the beast with her rapier.

Treya was about to go help her when five little demons flew awkwardly out from behind a row of boxes. The imps stared at the big battle for a moment before backing away. Then they saw Treya and her friends. The one in the lead opened its mouth in a sickly grin before hissing something to its companions and heading toward the group.

One of Shavala’s arrows suddenly sprouted from its chest. The imp squeaked and fell to the ground. Shavala fired again, but now that the imps were watching her, they managed to evade the arrow.

Treya tried to dash toward the nearest, but it was able to keep out of reach. The imps were surprisingly good at dodging considering how awkward they looked in flight. She managed to hit one with a glancing blow, but it was only enough to knock the creature down briefly before it sprung back into the air.

Katrin started playing her flute when one of the imps came near. It slowed as it approached, its head cocked to the side while it listened. Then it swiped its claws out and scratched her cheek.

“Hey!” she shouted, dropping the flute and drawing her dagger. She stabbed at the imp, but it dashed backwards, cackling.

Shavala held her hand out in front of her, and a burst of flame extended from her fingertips to envelop the imp. It screeched as it burned, then fell to the floor, twitching as it died.

Annoyed at being distracted from the main fight, Treya thrust her hands out to the front. “Stop!” she shouted, and a nearly blinding white light flashed over everything nearby. The remaining imps’ wings stopped beating, and all three fell to the ground, unable to move.

#

Corec grunted as he caught the demon’s sword against his own, bracing his feet to steady himself. The demon was a foot taller than him, and even with Corec’s strength spell, it was stronger. Its ugly sword of black metal had already broken through his shield spell and bounced off his armor twice.

To Corec’s side, Venni was still dancing back and forth with her opponent. Her own shield spell had finally flared out, but her magical shield of green light still blocked its strikes, and her glowing sword scored deep into its hide. Boktar had joined her, and together they were easily keeping the shorter beast at bay.

When the tall demon lifted its arms again, Corec slashed down against its side, his sword barely slicing into the skin. The demon wasn’t wearing any armor, but it didn’t appear to need any.

Then Aden was there, wielding two long, curved daggers. With the demon facing Corec, the other man came from behind and stabbed with both weapons, slashing down to cut a gash in each of the beast’s wings. The demon shrieked and whirled around, its tail knocking Aden to the ground and almost hitting Corec.

Corec ran closer, thrusting his sword in as hard as he could. Six inches of metal penetrated the demon’s back, but that just seemed to make it angrier. When it spun back around, it almost yanked the blade out of his hands, but he managed to keep a tight grip and pull it out.

Their swords met again, and this time, Corec’s broke, the top of the blade snapping off to leave a half-sized sword with a jagged tip. The demon’s weapon slammed into Corec’s shoulder guard, but his armor spell kept the guard in one piece.

He’d tried to teach himself the spell to strengthen his sword, but he hadn’t had any luck, and a glimpse at Venni’s spell book had only given him a headache. He doubted it was his own strength spell that had caused the break, though—the demon was plenty strong enough on its own.

There wasn’t any time to mourn the sword, or to think about the fact that his spare blade was all the way back in Four Roads. He grasped the hilt in one hand and drew his long knife with the other, then rushed at the demon.

Aden sprang back to his feet and attacked from behind again, this time ignoring the wings and stabbing at the beast’s lower back just as Corec hit it from the front. The demon swung down again with its sword, but Boktar got there just in time and caught it on his shield, then swung the pointed end of his warhammer into the monster’s kneecap, shattering it.

Corec and Aden continued to distract the beast, stabbing it almost ineffectually over and over again, while Boktar broke one of its bones after another, the demon’s armor-like skin not doing any good against the crushing weight of the hammer. As it collapsed, Venni joined them, and together, the four of them managed to finish it off.

#

Treya glanced toward the real demons, but it looked like Corec and the others had gotten things under control, so she approached the imps. The nearest, with horns and green skin, was facing her way, its eyes darting around fearfully.

“What do we do now?” Katrin asked. “We can’t just kill them when they’re like this, can we?”

Shavala drew closer, an arrow nocked to her bow but not drawn. “They’re sort of cute like this.”

“Cute?” Treya said. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

The elf girl just shrugged.

Treya looked down at the imps, then back up at her friends. Katrin was gripping her dagger and Shavala still had her bow, but neither made a move to kill the imps. Treya’s fists blazed with light, but she couldn’t bring herself to finish them off while they were defenseless. How would she do it, anyway? Squish them? The thought made her sick.

“Should we take them prisoner?” Katrin asked.

“How?” Treya said. “I doubt High Cove has a prison designed for imps.”

“I guess we should ask Venni.”

Treya looked down again, and felt something shift in her mind. Her hands still glowed with magic, but instead of attacking with it, she reached for the first imp, trying to control her revulsion as she touched it. She grasped it firmly in both hands, and a moment later, there was a faint shimmering. As the shimmering faded, so did the imp, and a moment later, she was holding onto nothing but air. A wave of weakness washed over her, but before it could overwhelm her, she quickly did the same thing to the other two. When she was done, she let herself fall to her knees, breathing heavily.

“What happened?” Shavala asked.

“I think I sent them back to wherever they came from.”

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Katrin said, reaching down to help her up.

“Neither did I,” Treya replied.

For some reason, that caused the other two women to grin at each other.

#

Corec glanced around the warehouse, finding two other dead demons rather than the one he’d expected. Ellerie was near the new one, her sword still drawn. Farther away, Katrin stood with Shavala and Treya around five small, grotesque figures on the ground. They could only be imps. Katrin smiled at him, so he figured they had things under control.

Boktar and Venni were still facing the winged demon, making sure it was dead. Aden was nearby, but was no longer Aden. In the human man’s spot stood a demonborn woman just a little taller than Katrin, with pure white hair. Her eyes were yellow, with black slits for pupils, and her ears were pointed like an elf’s.

“What?” she said when she caught him staring at her, a flash of her elongated fangs visible as she spoke. When she heard her voice, her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth in surprise.

Corec felt the same eerie sense of familiarity he’d felt earlier, when meeting Aden at the constabulary building.

“Who are you?” Venni demanded, her sword still drawn.

“I’m not your enemy. I just came to help.”

“Then why appear as someone else?”

The other woman growled low in her throat. “Why do you think? The people here are so panicked they’d probably hunt me instead of the demons. It’s happened before.”

Venni wiped the blood off her blade and sheathed it. “I know the difference between demons and demonborn. And I do appreciate the help. What’s your name?”

The woman hesitated, then said, “Razai.”

Corec suddenly recognized what he was feeling. She was a mage. He’d never realized it until then, but he’d experienced the same sensation before. It made sense that wardens would be able to identify other mages, but why hadn’t Yelena mentioned it?

Distracted by the new sense, he almost missed another familiar feeling—he was casting the binding spell. He quickly clamped down on it, stopping himself. Just as he smiled at his success, his vision went black and the spell began again. He was helpless to stop it this time, and could feel each step of the spell force its way through his mind. He blinked as his sight returned to normal. A spot on his right arm started itching, just below Treya’s rune.

“Oh, shit,” he said. “Not again!”

“What?” Venni said sharply, then glanced between him and the demonborn girl. “You didn’t!”

“Didn’t what?” the girl asked, scratching at a spot on her forehead. Then she looked at him in shock and started laughing hysterically.

#

The new Duke of the Crows, Edmond, was a middle-aged man with thinning hair and a tendency to allow his eyes to dart around the room rather than looking at the person he was speaking with.

Rusol detested him on sight, though Marten seemed to like him.

The investiture ceremony was long and boring, but to Rusol’s surprise, people had actually looked at him approvingly in his gleaming armor with the sword belted at his hip. It seemed his mother had known what she was talking about after all. It probably helped that despite its unusual appearance, the armor was clearly meant for use rather than for decoration.

The reception after the ceremony was packed with nobles, courtiers, and even some rich merchants who’d wrangled invitations. All of the kingdom’s dukes had shown up, and even some of the border barons who didn’t typically spend much time in Telfort.

Duke Edmond’s own backwoods barons mostly kept to themselves, the four men and their guests holding quiet conversations with each other other at the edges of the revelry. Eventually, though, Edmond remembered his duty, and brought the men over to Rusol one by one to introduce them.

“Prince Rusol,” the duke said, “this is Lord Ansel, Baron of Tarwen.”

“Welcome to Telfort, Lord Tarwen,” Rusol said. “I believe we’ve met before, though it was some years ago.”

“Yes, Your Highness. I don’t make it to Telfort often. I regret that my wife couldn’t come with us—her health makes traveling difficult—but I’d like to present my oldest son and heir, Toman.”

“Your Highness,” Toman said with a bow. He was an unsmiling young man, about Rusol’s age.

Rusol inclined his head just slightly. “Toman, is this your first time in Telfort?”

“I’ve accompanied our caravans to the city a few times, but I’ve never had call to visit the palace.”

“Your Highness,” Ansel said, interrupting them, “if you have a moment, I’d like to discuss something important with you.”

“Yes, Baron?”

“Many of the mercenaries that the kingdom is recruiting are from the hills, and rather than taking the road through the pass, they’re coming straight through the mountains. It makes my people uneasy to have armed foreigners in the valley. And hillfolk, no less.”

The new duke drew in a sharp breath, then looked toward Rusol with a worried frown on his face.

Rusol said, “Well, Lord Tarwen, you’ll be happy to know that even now, we’ve begun slowing the pace of our recruitment efforts. I trust visitors through the mountains have dwindled with the cold weather?”

“Yes, Your Highness. There have been fewer in recent weeks.”

“I suspect that by the time the snows melt, we’ll have finished recruiting, so you’ll have nothing more to worry about.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. Might I ask why the kingdom needs mercenaries? We have the strongest army in the north.”

Edmond grimaced again. If the new duke was too scared to speak his mind, was he truly a good choice to lead the region? Tarwen seemed much more forthright, even if the man’s questions were forcing Rusol to keep tight hold on his anger.

“And I aim to keep it that way,” he said. “There are threats on the horizon we must be prepared for. There are barbarians attacking some of the settlements north of Larso, and, of course, your friends from the hills. The hillfolk are less likely to attack if we’re employing half of their fighting men, and by strengthening our numbers, we can make sure our neighbors have no interest in expanding their borders. We’ll continue our current peace because nobody will be strong enough to make war against us.”

“I see. Thank you, Your Highness. My people will be reassured.”

After Tarwen and his son had left, Edmond said, “I apologize, Your Highness. I didn’t know he was going to ask you about that.”

Rusol stared at him. “Why not, Your Grace? Because you weren’t aware of your baron’s concerns? Or because it was your responsibility to bring those concerns to my attention and you didn’t?”

Edmond’s eyes bugged out. “I…I…Your Highness…”

Marten came up from the side and placed his arm around the duke’s shoulders. “What my son means to say is that when something comes up, you’re welcome to send a letter or pigeon note so we can learn about it sooner. Just because a matter is important doesn’t mean you need to wait until we see each other in person, though we do appreciate the fact that you felt it deserved the personal touch. Now, run along, Edmond. This is your party and you should enjoy it.”

“Y…yes, Your Majesty.”

When the man was out of earshot, Marten turned to Rusol. “Trying to turn our new duke against us so soon?”

“He’s weak and foolish. Any of his barons would be a better choice, even the old one with the limp.”

“Foolish, perhaps, but it’s his birthright. If I take away his title without cause, then every other duke in the kingdom will rise up in revolt. Still, now that you’ve put a little fear into him, perhaps he’ll be more diligent about his duty in the future. Good job.”

Rusol blinked in surprise. “You’re happy about it?”

“Happy’s not the word I’d use, but sometimes the peerage need a reminder about who’s in charge. Just a small reminder, though—we’re not tyrants, after all. Now, let me get a closer look at this armor your mother’s been going on about.” Marten took a step back and looked his son up and down. “That’s some fine work. She’s afraid to tell me how much she spent, but it must have been a fortune if it’s truly mage-crafted.”

“She thought it would make me fit in better.”

“It certainly makes you stand out at least. Let’s see…for a longsword, you should keep the belt where it’s at, but you want the scabbard to rest lower on your hip so you can actually draw the blade. Let me show you.” Marten led him to an out-of-the-way alcove, where nobody could see them, and helped adjust the harness so the scabbard hung farther down and at more of an angle. “There, that’s better. You know, if you’re going to start wearing a sword now, it wouldn’t hurt you to learn a few things.”

“If I get into a fight, Father, the sword isn’t what I’m going to be depending on.”

“No, but you may end up in a situation where you need to fake it. I’m not talking about sending you to the knights, but I can show you a few things in private. Nobody else needs to know that you never learned how before.”