The Desert Spear

Kendall pulled back in confusion until she saw Leesha. She quickly stepped away from Rojer and dipped into a curtsy. “Mistress Leesha.”
    “Kendall.” Leesha greeted her with a smile. “Is that sweet tea I smell?”
    Kendall blushed a deep red. “I, ah…”
    Rojer scowled. “Run and fetch your fiddle, Kendall.” He turned to Leesha. “Kendall is going to try a solo tonight.”
    “Is she ready for that?” Leesha asked.
    Rojer shrugged. “Is Wonda ready to hunt corelings? I was younger than Kendall when I first charmed a demon.”
    “Your need was more dire,” Leesha said.
    “It’s safe,” Rojer said. “I’ll be ready to take over if I’m needed, and the women will be watching with arrows nocked.” He nodded to the edge of the wards, where archers, including Wonda, had gathered in force.
    They began preparations by ordering the archers to keep clear a wide area of ground past the edge of the forbiddance. Rojer then led his fiddlers into a series of loud, jarring notes, filling the air with an atonal cacophony that corelings hated. The music shell focused the sound to the area just outside the forbidding, where corelings tended to gather, sometimes in force.
    Thus secure, the glassblower’s apprentices rushed out from the forbidding and placed warded glass throughout the clearing. There were large sheets, blown bottles, vials, even a glass axe that must have taken weeks to make and ward.
    When the glassblowers were safely returned, the fiddlers changed their tune. Rojer led the music, calling out instructions to the others as he did, using them to amplify his special magic as he coaxed demons out of the woods and into the clearing. He then walked alone outside the forbiddance, calling with his music, controlling each step forward the corelings took until they were arranged as he liked.
    “Kendall!” he called, and the girl stepped forward and began to play. Rojer softened his music and backed away from the corelings as she strengthened hers and approached them, until he was able to stop playing entirely, leaving the mesmerized demons to her sole control.
    Rojer went to where Leesha waited by the ward’s edge. “She really is quite good,” he said proudly. “The demons will follow her around like puppies, charging everything they touch.”
    Indeed, the corelings drifted after Kendall as she stepped carefully about the field. There were flares of light as demons touched the glass in their path, the etched wards siphoning off a tiny fraction of the demons’ magic and guiding it to new purpose.
    The corelings hissed, clawing at the areas where they had felt the drain. Kendall tried to change her music to calm them again, but her fear was apparent in her playing as she began to miss notes. She tried to increase her tempo to compensate, and that only made things worse. The demons started to shake the confusion from their heads.
    Rojer moved toward her slowly in his warded cloak, with plenty of time to reach her before the corelings turned ugly, but then Kendall misstepped. A bottle shattered under her foot, sending glass through the soft leather of her shoe. She cried out, and her bow slipped from the strings with a jarring sound.
    Immediately the corelings perked up, and her spell shattered. Their nostrils flared as they caught the scent of her blood, and they shrieked, launching themselves at her.
    Rojer broke into a run, but he had drifted far away to speak to Leesha, and one of the corelings buried its talons deep in Kendall’s body, pulling her close and sinking rows of teeth into her shoulder before he could get in range. Blood soaked her dress, and other demons leapt in, prepared to fight one another for a share of the kill.
    “Archers!” Rojer cried desperately.
    “We’ll hit Kendall!” Wonda cried back, and Rojer saw that all the women had bows drawn, but none dared risk the shot.
    He put his fiddle to work, notes meant to frighten and drive off the demons. They shrieked and broke off their attack, Kendall collapsing to the ground, but there was blood in the air now, and they were not easily driven back. They hissed and swiped, blocking Rojer’s path.
    “Kendall!” Rojer screamed. “Kendall!” Weakly, she lifted her head, gasping air as she reached a bloodied hand his way.
    Suddenly a huge shape swept by Rojer, nearly bowling him over. He looked up to see Gared tackle one of the wood demons into another. Both corelings were brought down under the burly Cutter’s weight, and