In the next moment, she came between Gurt and another of the beasts, forcing it away from him, hacking at it with an arm that felt leaden and burned with fatigue. Ware got this one as well, tossing a swath of oil-soaked fabric over it from the rear and letting her back it into the fire from the trench so that it went up like the others, screaming and waving its pinchers in the air.
Faro seemed to be everywhere, stabbing at the creatures' eyes with improvised spears made of spines and tent-poles, snatching up an abandoned bow and shooting out their eyes. All of the fighting was lit with the hellish glare of the oil-fire, making it seem as if they fought demon-creatures in a nightmare.
Finally, just when she thought that she could not swing her blade again, she looked up in a momentary respite, after killing yet another of the beasts by hacking its legs off then stabbing it through the eyes-
-to see that the sky was turning lighter, and that the only creatures left within the palisade were all dead. It was over.
They had won.
• Chapter 14
Xylina wiped a grimy hand across her brow, feeling grit mix with the sweat, and surveyed the rest of her exhausted crew. They would take what sleep they could, when morning drove the armored spiders away-but first they needed to drag the remains of the dead monsters out of their camp, and to dispose of their own dead. Altogether, they had managed to slay over twenty of the creatures; it was hard to tell exactly how many there had been, because so many of them had been burned. There were five more men gone now: four of the fighters and one of the three servants. Miraculously, all of the animals had survived the attack; she was still not certain how. Ware said that at one point he had seen the mules in a defensive circle with his stallion; that was all he could tell her.
It took them several hours to hitch the mules to the charred and dismembered bodies and drag them out of the gap Xylina created in the palisade. Sadly, the disposition of their own dead took far less time. They piled the bodies-or, more aptly, what was left of the bodies- onto an improvised pyre, and poured the last of the oil over them, while Hazard spoke the words in a voice harsh from smoke and shouting. Then Ware ignited the pyre, and they returned to the camp while the flames still burned. Xylina had just enough energy left to create another palisade stone-and she had to hold onto the tent-stake lest she collapse when she finished. Fortunately, both Faro and Ware were so tired that neither of them seemed to notice.
They slept the sleep of the utterly exhausted until noon, when the heat woke them. Xylina dispelled the palisade and tents, while the men broke down the camp.
They were following the road again within the hour, pushing the mules to put as much distance between them and where they had been attacked as they could. Between sunrise, which was when they had left the hacked-up bits of spider outside the palisade, and noon, which was when she had dissipated the stone, scavengers had already reduced the dead monsters to bits of tough armor and scattered claws.
They did their best to put as many leagues between them and the spiders as possible. Ware confided that he hoped they would come within another magic zone soon, but as night fell, and the land about them had not changed in any significant way, Xylina and the demon had to admit defeat. They had not escaped the danger region. Tonight there would likely be another such attack, and they were just as ill-prepared to meet it as the first time.
They were forced to halt in a place where the tentacle creatures were particularly thick on the ground, and that was not encouraging, either. It was very difficult to find a large enough space free of them to make any size camp at all. But that was not the worst of it.
When Xylina steeled herself to conjure another stone palisade, she realized that her efforts of last night, and perhaps lack of sleep, had seriously depleted her resources. This was a new experience for her; she must have overextended herself, magically, and would have to wait a few days for recovery. She could not conjure stone to give them protection. Even her efforts at conjuring oil for a trench were frighteningly difficult, and she very nearly fainted after the second barrelfull.
Ware approached. "You are magically exhausted," he murmured. "Faro and I hoped this would not be the case. We shall have to cover for you, lest the men think they lack protection."
So she had not fooled Ware or Faro. "Think?" she asked wanly.
Ware caught Faro's eye, and nodded. He approached as if just thinking of something. "Mistress," he said, loudly enough to be heard throughout, "it occurs to me that we have been depending too much on your magic. Last night we thought the stone and oil was sufficient, so we were caught by surprise when they weren't. We should assume more of the burden of defense ourselves, keeping your powers in reserve for ugly surprises."
The other men paused, then slowly nodded. They weren't lazy, and they wanted to survive. Last night had been brutal, but perhaps it would be better if Xylina used her magic only when their efforts failed. Faro directed them in the preparation of earthworks and wooden stakes, keeping them busy. "Build as close to the tentacles as you can," he said. "So that any intruders will brush them before reaching us." There was a mutter of almost humorous agreement.
Nevertheless, Xylina had to try to do her part. She decided that it was best to begin with the oil, rather than the palisade, for when she gathered her power, she felt disoriented and dizzy. The next barrel filled sluggishly, the oil flowing from a point between her hands much more slowly than she was used to-and it was not that the magic power was not available. She sensed the power waiting for her to call upon it-but she was the one lacking. She felt as if she had begun a long run directly after a marathon swim: her "muscles" were tired, and could not direct the power as she was used to. And the more she tried, the harder it became to control.
"Do not push yourself too hard," Ware said. "I have seen this before, on rare occasion. Too much exertion interferes with the recovery process."
She smiled at him, grateful for the understanding. At that moment she wanted to kiss him. An aspect of herself pondered that with bemusement: she was so fatigued that she was attracted to a demon. But she kept working.
As she finished the following barrel, she had a moment of disorientation-and then her sight went gray around the edges, her knees gave, and she swayed where she stood.
Ware caught her before she fell, and lowered her gently to the ground. There she sat, surrounded by the worried and frightened faces of her men, wondering if she had doomed them all. What was she going to do? They couldn't possibly survive another attack of the spiders without some kind of protection to keep some of the creatures out. The oil she had conjured would scarcely last an hour in a trench, and she was not certain that she could conjure more at this point.
Now it was not possible to conceal the fact that her magic was low. She saw recognition passing through the group. Yet there seemed to be as much sympathy as fear. They were concerned for her almost more than for themselves. She appreciated that tacit support. Some other group might have chosen that moment to rebel, realizing that the magic of the mistress could no longer stop them. But her efforts to treat them like human beings were now being rewarded; they were treating her like a human being. And so this moment of her devastation was, in its subtle way, also her success.
Ware looked around. "I had hoped this would not occur yet," he said to the group. "Mistress Xylina was doing so well. The problem is that though Mazonite magic works beyond Mazonia, it fades with distance. Thus her resources are not what they were before, or what they will be when we return. She will have to do less conjuring for now, so that her strength is not depleted."