Faith Hunter - Host

“Not enough,” Culpepper said. “We need protection for the entire town and you’re holding out on us. How much do you want, mage?” He made the last word an insult. “What cost for your help? Our blood?” His face twisted with abhorrence. “Our young men?”

I stood, letting the chair legs scrape the floor, barely stopping myself from drawing a blade. The fathers froze at the faster-than-human movement and the screech of wood on wood, even Culpepper falling silent, realizing he had gone too far. Switching my gaze back and forth between the Waldroup brothers, I said, “I can’t ward the whole town. I’m not powerful enough. No mage is. But I can fight. Do you want my champards and me in place for defense, or does working with former enemies not apply to mages?” I heard Audric sigh in exasperation, but I didn’t care. I was beat up, used up, and worn out trying to keep this town safe, and the town fathers were bent on hatred.

“You are our town mage,” Shamus said gently. “Just because some are trapped in the smallness of their own minds doesn’t mean we don’t need you.” Culpepper had the grace to flush at the senior elder’s soft reprimand. “We need you bad,” Shamus said. “I believe it’s why the seraphs gave you to Mineral City for a full year. You’re part of the mercy of the Most High.”

Suddenly I had no place for my hands. I balled them and stuffed them into my pockets. The Waldroup brothers and Jasper wore sober faces, and an underlayer of fear rode their souls. Culpepper stared at the far wall, not meeting my eyes, but at least his hostility was reined in. I let my attributes die away and retook my seat.

Shamus said, “We need all our fighters. We want you to rest until an attack. Experience says Darkness seldom attacks two nights running. No need for you to waste yourselves until the fighting starts again. And who knows? The army may find a way to get troops in here.” Culpepper made a derisive noise in the back of his throat. I hated to agree with him, but I did.

“We do have one favor to ask,” Shamus said. “Since you can’t provide a ward for the entire town, would you be willing to allow the children to sleep in your shop until things return to normal?” I blinked and swallowed a reflexive refusal. “Parents can’t fight when they’re worried about their young.”

Sweet Hail Mary. They’re serious. “How many?” I asked, panicked by the petition, amazed that my voice didn’t squeak like a trapped squirrel’s. It was a reasonable request, but I couldn’t imagine how we’d get all the town’s children in the shop. It would be standing room only. It would be a madhouse. Spawn balls.

As if he couldn’t see the terror blooming in my eyes, Shamus said, “Only those twelve and younger. About seventy indicated a desire to take advantage of the shelter.”

Seventy kids under the age of twelve? I was pretty sure the shock showed on my face. I could hear Audric laughing under his breath.

“They’ll provide their own cots and bedrolls,” Shamus continued, “and the younger ones will double up, two or three to a cot. Some adults will stay over to care for them. I’ve seen your shop. It’ll be tight, but they’ll fit.”

He had thought it through, and I didn’t miss the verbs. Will, not might or could. Either he had known I’d say yes or he intended to insist. And clearly plans were already under way.

“I offer the shielded floor space in my storefront,” Audric said from the door, not bothering to hide the humor in his voice. “There are also spaces in the stairwell at the top and the bottom of the stairs, though that area isn’t heated. And there is room for more in the dress shop next to mine. Thorn’s ward covers it as well, and I am certain the owner will allow the children to stay over. Together, we can easily accommodate seventy children.” Audric laughed aloud. “It will be my mistrend’s pleasure.”

And then I understood. This was my punishment. And it would be ongoing. Seventy wild, unfettered, untamed kids running amok in my life. Seraph stones. Death and plagues. Blood of the saints! There weren’t enough curses available for the horror. The men were still talking, this time about war, and now Audric was in the middle, offering suggestions as to tactics, weapons, and placement of prayer warriors for future battles. I just dropped my chin and sank into my misery. Seventy kids.

The sun was below the horizon, the sky deepening to plum and cerulean velvet when I crossed the street, Audric on my heels, and reentered Thorn’s Gems. Bells clanged over the door and a roar blasted out. I stopped in the doorway. A fast scan showed me there were a couple dozen children and three adults in the display room, three toddlers chasing each other, arms outstretched, squealing. Bundles of supplies and bedrolls were tucked in the corners. Toys, dolls, stuffed animals, and cots lined the walls. Savory pork stew bubbled on the stove.

“Seraph stones,” I whispered. They hadn’t wasted any time. Audric chuckled under his breath and I resisted the urge to sink an elbow into whatever body part was closest. I managed a smile and a wave at Jasper’s wife, Polly, who raced from the fireplace and enveloped me in a breath-stealing hug that rammed my head between her breasts. I felt myself flush with embarrassment even as I suffocated.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said from over my head, rocking me back and forth, smothering me. “Thank you again and again and again.”

Gently I pushed her away, filling my lungs, the grin I had faked becoming real. “You’re welcome,” I said. Okay. This wouldn’t be so bad. I liked Polly. We could have tea. Visit. “The bathroom is in the back. It’s clean. The floor isn’t well insulated and gets cold, so keep the gas logs up high. And keep a kettle simmering on the fireplace so it doesn’t dry out too much.”

“You sound like an old mother hen,” she said, squeezing my shoulders.

My flush deepened and I patted her arm, turned, and looked right into the lens of a camera. I caught myself before I cursed on live TV, but it was a near thing. Romona Benson, camera on a shoulder, stuck a mike under my chin. “You found a way to provide mage protection over the two buildings here.” Behind her, the door opened with a jaunty jangle and a stream of kids entered. I stared at Romona, who was blond, like Polly, though with the polish of the big city. “Can you tell us why you can’t cover the whole town?”

I could feel my smile freezing into a semisnarl. Audric, sensing that I was about to make a blunder, stepped up beside me. “My mistrend is working at the full extent of her gift. A ward for an entire town requires many mages working together.” Before she could ask, he said, “The two mages in Mineral City have gifts that do not meld well.”

Another voice took up the narrative. “And so, Thorn St. Croix of Mineral City is offering Thorn’s Gems, and Darlene Smythe is opening her dress shop next door, making available all the buildings that are protected by Thorn’s ward,” Rupert said, stepping between the camera and me. “The children and the elderly of the town may sleep in safety for as long as needed.”

The elderly too? I fought the need to sit down fast. So much for being asked to provide space. Someone sneaky had planned all this behind my back and the town fathers had dumped it on me. Looking at Rupert, I had a good idea who.

“Her champards will be bunking in with her,” Rupert continued. “I have offered my loft, also under protection, to accommodate the numbers.” He swept out an arm and the camera followed the motion, Rupert leading Romona into the human clutter. My friend and partner was dressed in navy robes, the cut made popular by the seraph Uriel, when he visited the White House last fall. His eyes were ringed with navy and his hair was loose on his shoulders. He looked fully healed. And spectacular. And very dramatic as he stared into the camera, gesticulating, talking.