The children and the elderly had begun to arrive, gathering in the yard. Brianne and Mairy had already put them to work collecting tools. Mairy's eyes were hollow as she watched the children. It had not been easy to convince her to leave her two children at the Holy House, but at last reason prevailed. Their father was staying, and if things went badly, the other children would need their mother.

Elona stormed out of the house as they arrived.

'Is this your idea?' she demanded. 'Turning my house into a barn?'

Leesha pushed right past, the Painted Man at her side. Elona had no choice but to fall in behind her them as they entered the house. 'Yes, mother,' she said. 'It was my idea. We may not have space for everyone, but the children and elderly who have avoided the flux thus far should be safe here, whatever else happens.'

'I won't have it!' Elona barked.

Leesha whirled on her. 'You have no choice!' she shouted. 'You were right that we have the only strong wards left in town, so you can either suffer here in a crowded house, or stand and fight with the others. But Creator help me, the young and the old are staying behind father's wards tonight.'

Elona glared at her. 'You wouldn't speak to me so, if your father were well.'

'If he were well, he would have invited the folk himself,' Leesha said, not backing down an inch.

She turned her attention to the Painted Man. 'The paper shop is through those doors,' she told him, pointing. 'You should have space to work, and my father's warding tools. The children are collecting every weapon in town, and will bring them to you.'

The Painted Man nodded, vanishing into the shop without a word.

'Where in the world did you find that one?' Elona asked. 'He saved us from demons on the road,' Leesha said, going to her father's room.

'I don't know if it will do any good,' Elona warned, putting a hand on the door. 'Midwife Darsy says it's in the Creator's hands now.'

'Nonsense,' Leesha said, entering the room and immediately going to her father's side. He was pale and damp with sweat, but she did not recoil. She placed a hand to his forehead, and then ran her sensitive fingers over his throat, wrists, and chest. While she worked, she asked her mother questions about his symptoms, how long they had been manifest, and what she and midwife Darsy had tried so far.

Elona wrung her hands, but answered as best she could.

'Many of the others are worse,' Leesha said. 'Da is stronger than you give him credit.'

For once, Elona had no belittling retort.

'I'll brew a potion for him,' Leesha said. 'He'll need to be dosed regularly, at least every three hours.' She took a parchment and began writing instructions in a swift hand.

'You're not staying with him?' Elona asked.

Leesha shook her head. 'There's near to two hundred people in the Holy House that need me, mum,' she said, 'many of them worse off than da.'

'They have Darsy to look after them,' Elona argued.

'Darsy looks as if she hasn't slept since the flux started,' Leesha said. 'She's dead on her feet, and even at her best, I wouldn't trust her cures against this sickness. If you stay with da and follow my instructions, he'll be more likely to see the dawn than most in Cutter's Hollow.'

'Leesha?' her father moaned. 'S'that you?'

Leesha rushed to his side, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his hand. 'Yes, da,' she said, her eyes watering, 'it's me.'

'You came,' Erny whispered, his lips curling into a slow smile. His fingers squeezed Leesha's hand weakly. 'I knew you would.'

'Of course I came,' Leesha said.

'But you have to go,' Erny sighed. When Leesha gave no reply, he patted her hand. 'Heard what you said. Go do what needs be done. Just seeing you has given me new strength.'

Leesha half-sobbed, but tried to mask it as a laugh. She kissed his forehead.

'Is it bad as all that?' Erny whispered.

'A lot of folk are going to die tonight,' Leesha said.

Erny's hand tightened on hers, and he sat up a bit. 'Then you see to it that it's no more than need be,' he said. 'I'm proud of you and I love you.'

'I love you, da,' Leesha said, hugging him tightly. She wiped her eyes and left the room.

Rojer tumbled about the tiny aisle of the makeshift hospit as he pantomimed the daring rescue the Painted Man had performed a few nights earlier.

'But then,' he went on, 'standing between us and the camp, was the biggest rock demon I've ever seen.' He leapt on top of a table and reached his arms his into the air, waving them to show they were still not high enough to do the creature justice.

'Fifteen feet tall, it was,' Rojer said, 'with teeth like spears and a horned tail that could smash a horse. Leesha and I stopped up short, but did the Painted Man hesitate? No! He walked on, calm as Seventhday morning, and looked the monster right in the eyes.' Rojer enjoyed the wide eyes surrounding him, and hesitated, letting the tense silence build before shouting, 'BAM!' and clapping his hands together. Everyone jumped. 'Just like that,' Rojer said, 'the Painted Man's horse, black as night and seeming like a demon itself, slammed its horns through the demon's back.' 'The horse had horns?' an old man asked, raising a grey eyebrow as thick and bushy as a squirrel tail. Propped up in his pallet, the stump of his right leg soaked his bandages in blood.

'Oh, yes,' Rojer confirmed, sticking fingers up behind his ears and getting coughing laughs. 'Great ones of shining bright metal, strapped on by its bridle and sharply pointed, etched with wards of power! The most magnificent beast you have ever seen, it is! Its hooves struck the beast like thunderbolts.

'So, while the horse attacked, we ran for the circle, and were safe.' Rojer concluded.

'What about the horse?' one child asked. 'The Painted Man gave a whistle,' Rojer said, putting his fingers to his lips and emitting a shrill sound, 'and his horse came galloping through the corelings, leaping over the wards and into the circle.' He clapped his hands against his thighs in a galloping sound and leapt to illustrate the point.

The patients were riveted by his tale, taking their minds off their sickness and the impending night. More, Rojer knew he was giving them hope. Hope that Leesha could cure them. Hope that the Painted Man could protect them.

He wished he could give himself hope, as well. And wished they would hurry back.

Leesha had the children scrub out the big vats her father used to make paper slurry, using them to brew potions on a larger scale than she had ever attempted. Even Bruna's stores quickly ran out, and she passed word to Brianne, who had the children ranging far and wide for hogroot and other herbs.

Frequently, her eyes flicked to the sunlight filtering through the window, watching it crawl across the shop's floor. The day was waning.

Not far off, the Painted Man worked with similar speed, his hand moving with delicate precision as he painted wards onto axes, picks, hammers, spears, arrows, and sling stones. The children brought him anything that might possibly be used as a weapon, and collected the results as soon as the paint dried, piling them in carts outside.

Every so often, someone came running in to relay a message to Leesha or the Painted Man. They gave instructions quickly, sending the runner off and turning back to their work.

With only a pair of hours before sunset, they drove the carts back through the steady rain to the Holy House. The villagers stopped work at the sight of them, coming quickly to help Leesha unload her cures. A few approached the Painted Man to assist unloading his cart, but a look from him turned them away.

Leesha went to him, carrying a heavy stone jug. 'Tampweed and skyflower,' she said, handing it to him. 'Mix it with the feed of three cows, and see that they eat it all.' The Painted Man took the jug and nodded.