The Warded Man (Demon Cycle, #1)(135)

“We all dream that sometimes, dear,” Jizell said, “and it’s a nice enough fantasy once in a while, when you’re staring at the wall, but you can’t hang your hopes on it.”

Leesha squeezed the letter in her hand, crumpling it a bit.

“So you’re thinking of going back and marrying this Gared?” Jizell asked.

“Oh, Creator, no!” Leesha cried. “Of course not!”

Jizell grunted. “Good. You’ve saved me the trouble of thumping you on the head.”

“Much as my belly longs for a child,” Leesha said, “I’ll die a maid before I let Gared give me one. Problem is, he’d have at any other man in the Hollow that tried.”

“Easily solved,” Jizell said. “Have children here.”

“What?” Leesha asked.

“Cutter’s Hollow is in good hands with Vika,” Jizell said. “I trained the girl myself, and her heart is there now in any event.” She leaned in, putting a meaty hand atop Leesha’s. “Stay,” she said. “Make Angiers your home and take over the hospit when I retire.”

Leesha’s eyes widened. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

“You’ve taught me as much as I’ve taught you these years,” Jizell went on. “There’s no one else I trust to run my business, even if Vika returned tomorrow.”

“I don’t know what to say,” Leesha managed.

“No rush to say anything,” Jizell said, patting Leesha’s hand. “I daresay I don’t plan to retire any day soon. Just think on it.”

Leesha nodded. Jizell opened her arms, and she fell into them, embracing the older woman tightly. As they parted, a shout from outside made them jump.

“Help! Help!” someone cried. They both glanced at the window. It was past dark.

Opening one’s shutters at night in Angiers was a crime punishable by whipping, but Leesha and Jizell gave it no thought as they threw open the bar, seeing a trio of city guardsmen running down the boardwalk, two of them each carrying another man.

“Ay, the hospit!” the lead guard called, seeing the shutters open on the lamplit room. “Open your doors! Succor! Succor and healing!”

As one, Leesha and Jizell bolted for the stairs, nearly tumbling down in their haste to get to the door. It was winter, and though the city’s Warders worked diligently to keep the wardnet clear of snow, ice, and dead leaves, a few wind demons invariably found their way in each night, hunting homeless beggars and waiting for the occasional fool that dared defy curfew and the law. A wind demon could drop like a silent stone and then spread its taloned wings in a sudden snap, eviscerating a victim before grasping the body in its rear claws and swooping away with it.

They made it to the landing and threw open the door, watching as the men approached. The lintels were warded; they and their patients were safe enough even without the door.

“What’s happening?” Kadie cried, sticking her head out over the balcony at the top of the stairs. Behind her, the other apprentices were pouring out of their room.

“Put your aprons back on and get down here!” Leesha ordered, and the younger girls scrambled to obey.

The men were still a ways off, but running hard. Leesha’s stomach clenched as she heard shrieks in the sky. There were wind demons about, drawn to the light and commotion.

But the guards were closing the distance fast, and Leesha dared to hope that they would make it unscathed until one of the men slipped on a patch of ice and went down hard. He screamed, and the man he was carrying tumbled to the boardwalk.

The guard still with a man over his shoulder shouted something to the other, and put his head down, picking up speed. The unburdened man turned and rushed back to his fallen comrade.

A sudden flap of leathery wings was the only warning before the head of the hapless guard flew free of his body, rolling across the boardwalk. Kadie screamed. Before blood even began to spurt from the wound, the wind demon gave a shriek and launched skyward, hauling the dead man’s body into the air.

The laden guard passed the wards, hauling his charge to safety. Leesha looked back to the remaining man, struggling to rise, and her brow set.

“Leesha, no!” Jizell cried, grabbing at her, but Leesha stepped nimbly aside and bolted out onto the boardwalk.

She ran in sharp zigzag as the shrieks of wind demons rang out in the cold air above. One coreling attempted a dive attack anyway and missed her completely, if only by a few inches. It tumbled into the boardwalk with a crash, but quickly righted itself, its thick hide unharmed by the impact. Leesha spun away, hurling a fistful of Bruna’s blinding powder into its eyes. The creature roared in pain, and Leesha ran on.

“Save him, not me!” the guard called as she drew near, pointing to the still form lying on the boardwalk. The guard’s ankle was at an odd angle, clearly broken. Leesha glanced at the other form, prone on the boardwalk. She could not carry them both.

“Not me!” the guard called again as she drew close.

Leesha shook her head. “I’ve a better chance of getting you to safety,” she said, in a tone that brooked no debate. She got under his arm and heaved.

“Keep low,” the guard gasped. “Windies are less apt to dive at things low to the ground.”

She hunched as much as she could, staggering under the big man’s weight, and knew they were not going to make it at the shuffling pace, low or not.