At supper, his brothers and sisters watched him like a cat watches a mouse. Briar kept close to his mother until bedtime.
No sooner than the door to the tiny room the three boys shared was closed, Hale and Hardey pinned him on the floor of their room, digging through his pockets and searching his bed.
“Where’d you hide them, Briarpatch?” Hardey demanded, sitting hard on his stomach, knocking the breath out of him.
“It was just the one, and I ate it!” Briar struggled, but he was wise enough not to raise his voice. A shout might get his brothers the strap, but it would go worse for him.
Eventually the boys gave up, giving him a last shake and going to bed. “This ent over, Briarpatch,” Hardey said. “Catch you with it later, you’ll be eating dirt.”
They were soon asleep, but Briar’s heart was still thumping, and out in the yard, demons shrieked as they tested the wards. Briar couldn’t sleep through the sound, flinching at every cry and flash of magic. Hale kicked him under the covers. “Quit squirming, Briarpatch, or I’ll lock you out on the porch for the night.”
Briar shuddered, and again felt an overwhelming urge to empty his bladder. He got out of bed and stumbled into the hall to find the privy. It was pitch black in the house, but that had never bothered Briar before. He had blindly fumbled his way to the curtain countless times.
But it was different tonight. There was a demon in the house. Briar couldn’t say how he knew, but he could sense it, lurking in the darkness, waiting for its chance to pounce.
Briar could feel his heart pounding like a festival drum and began to sweat, though the night was cool. It was suddenly hard for him to breathe, as if Hardey were still sitting on his chest. There was a rustling sound ahead, and Briar yelped, literally jumping. He looked around and it seemed he could make a dim shape moving in the darkness.
Terrified, he turned and ran for the common room. The fire had burned down, but a few pumps of the bellows had an open flame, and Briar fed it carefully from the woodbox until it filled the room with light.
Shadows fled, and with them the hiding places of the demons. The room was empty.
Baby Briar, scared of nothing, his brothers and sisters liked to sing. Briar hated himself, but his leg would not stop shaking. He couldn’t go back to bed. He would piss the covers and the twins would kill him. He couldn’t go down the hall to the privy in the dark. The very thought terrified him. He could sleep here, by the fire, or…
Briar slipped across the common to the door of his parents’ room.
Never open the door if the bed is creaking, his mother had said, but Briar listened closely, and the bed was quiet. He turned the latch and slipped quietly inside, closing the door behind him. He crawled up the center of the bed, nestling himself between his parents. His mother put her arms about him, and Briar fell deep asleep.
It was still dark when he awoke to screaming. His parents started upright, taking poor Briar with them. All of them took a reflexive breath, and started to cough and choke.
There was smoke everywhere. His parents were both touching him, but he couldn’t see them at all. Everything was a gray blur even worse than darkness.
“Down!” his mother croaked, pulling Briar with her as she slid off the bed. “Smoke rises! The air will be better by the floorboards.” There was a thump as his father rolled out of bed on the far side, crawling over to them.
“Take Briar out the window,” Relan said, coughing into his hand. “I’ll get the others and follow.”
“Into the night?!” Dawn asked.
“We cannot stay here, beloved,” Relan said. “The wardposts in the herb garden are strong. It’s only twenty yards from the house. You can make it if you are quick.”
Dawn grabbed Briar’s hand, squeezing so hard the boy whimpered. “Wet the towel by the washbasin and put it over your mouth to hold out the smoke.”
Relan nodded and put a hand on her shoulder. “Be careful. The smoke will draw many alagai.” He kissed her. “Go.”
Dawn began crawling for the window, dragging Briar after her. “Take three deep breaths, Briar, and then hold the last. Keep it held until we’re out the window, and as soon as we hit the ground, run for the garden. You understand?”
“Yes,” Briar said, and then coughed for what seemed forever. At last the wracking ceased, and he nodded to his mother. On the third breath, they stood and Dawn threw open the shutters. She lifted Briar in her arms, swung her legs over the sill, and dropped to the ground with a thump.
As Relan had warned, there were demons in the yard, flitting about through the drifting smoke. Together, they ran for the garden before the corelings caught sight of them.
Dawn stopped up short once they crossed the garden wards. “You stay here. I need to help your father with the others.”