The Desert Spear

in hand. Behind him, one of the mollies lay collapsed and panting in the dirt. He had ridden her bareback.
    “Caught you!” Harl cried, punching Cobie hard in the face. His fist, wrapped around the heavy bone hilt of his knife, turned Cobie’s head sharply to the side and knocked him to the ground. He grabbed Renna with his free hand, hard bony fingers digging painfully into her arm.
    “Run on an’ beg yer sister’s succor,” he said, his face a mask of rage. “I’ll be along presently to deal with you.” His eyes flicked to Cobie as he shoved her toward the door.
    “It’s not what it looks like!” Cobie cried, struggling to one knee and holding his hand out to ward off Harl. “I never asked her to come!”
    “Core you didn’t,” Harl sneered, raising his knife. “Made you a promise, boy, and I aim t’keep it.”
    He looked back at Renna, frozen in fear. “Get going!” he barked. “You’ll be a week in the outhouse as is. Don’t make it two!”
    Renna recoiled in horror, and Harl turned from her. The night in the outhouse flashed through her mind again, seemingly endless hours of torment relived in barely a second. She thought about the aftermath, the smell of her father’s bed, and the weight of his wrinkled bones atop her as he grunted and thrust.
    She thought of going back to the farm, and something inside her snapped.
    “No!” she screamed, and leapt at her father, nails digging at his face like claws. He fell back in shock, knocking his head on the floor. She tried to wrest the knife from his hands, but Harl was stronger, and kept his grip.
    Cobie was standing by then, but he made no move toward them. “Cobie!” she pleaded. “Help me!”
    Harl punched Renna in the face, knocking her over, and leapt to pin her, but she bit his arm, and he howled in pain. His fist smashed into her face again, and then three times into her stomach until her teeth let go.
    “Little bitch!” he cried, looking at the blood spurting from his arm. He growled and dropped the knife as his hands found her throat.
    Renna thrashed as hard as she could, but Harl had locked on and wouldn’t budge. Blood ran down his arm and dripped onto her face as she gasped for air that could not come. She saw madness in her father’s eyes, and realized he meant to kill her.
    Her eyes flicked to Cobie again, but he was still standing there, motionless. She managed to catch his eye, and pleaded with him silently.
    With a start, Cobie seemed to find himself again, and moved toward them. “That’s enough!” he shouted. “You’ll kill her!”
    “That’s enough of you, boy,” Harl said, letting go of Renna’s throat with one hand and grabbing his knife when Cobie came close. As Cobie reached for him, Harl pivoted and thrust the blade between his legs.
    Cobie’s face went bright red, and he looked down in horror, blood pouring down the knife. He drew in a breath to scream, but Harl never gave him the chance, pulling the knife free and burying it in his heart.
    Cobie gripped the blade protruding from his chest, mouthing a silent protest as he fell back, dead.
    Harl got off Renna, leaving her gasping weakly on the floor, and went to Cobie, pulling the knife free. “I warned you more than once, boy,” he said, wiping the blade on Cobie’s shirt, “you shoulda listened.”
    He slipped the knife back in its sheath, where it rested barely a moment before Renna pulled it free and buried it in his back. Again and again she stabbed, screaming and crying as blood spattered her face and soaked her dress.

CHAPTER 20
RADDOCK LAWRY
    p.
333 AR SUMMER

    JEPH BALES FINISHED CHECKING the porch wards not a moment too soon. His family was already inside; children washing for supper, Iain and Norine in the kitchen. He looked out as the last rays of sun vanished and heat leached out of the ground, giving the demons a path up from the Core.
    As those stinking gray mists began to rise, he moved inside, even though it would be a few moments more before the corelings solidified. Jeph didn’t believe in taking chances where demons were concerned.
    But as he reached to close the door, he heard a wail and looked up. Down the road, someone was running hard for the farm, screaming all the way.
    Jeph took his axe, always by the door, and moved out as far as the porch wards would allow, his eyes flicking nervously to the corelings coalescing in the yard. He thought of his eldest son, and how he would not have hesitated to run out and help the