Shattering the Ley (24 page)

“Preparations for the Baronial Meeting are proceeding well,” Baron Arent said, sifting through the papers that littered the massive table before him. He picked up a sheet and handed it to Prime Wielder Augustus, standing near him at the edge of the table. There were no seats. The table was inlaid with a myriad of stones in various shades depicting all of the districts of Erenthrall, the layout of the streets, the locations of the towers and subtowers and nodes. The Urate and Tiana Rivers gleamed blue through the sundry browns, grays, and duns. Quartz glinted in the light from the ley globes hovering overhead. A few paces distant, another table mapped out the Baronies and the known world, including the Demesnes to the west and the Temerite lands to the east. The lands to the south and the western continent weren’t as detailed, but the major cities were denoted and labeled, especially those that contained their own Nexi run by Wielders controlled by Augustus. The network of major ley lines between the cities were etched in white across the continents, like a spider’s web across the ocean and land. “Are the Wielders’ plans on schedule?”

Augustus scanned the page once and set it aside. “All of the displays of the ley’s power have been set up and are being practiced and tested with Master Sovaan’s approval and supervision. It should convince the Barons that they should continue their allegiance to you and the Wielders that control their Nexi. There will be the usual display of power from the Nexus itself, but the emphasis this year will be on the Flyers’ Tower. We want the Barons to covet our seizure of the skies and the near limitless possibilities that it represents. We haven’t had a Baronial Meeting since the tower was sown, and some of the Barons haven’t seen it yet, nor the flying ships.”

“I assume you have arranged a tour of the city by flyer for all of the visiting lords, ladies, and Barons.”

“Of course.”

“And what of the distortions?”

Augustus met Arent’s gaze. “The distortions will not present a problem while the Barons visit.”

Arent didn’t move, but he allowed himself a small frown, allowed the hint of a threat to tinge his voice. “Then the rumors I have heard are true? The Wielders—purple jackets, no less—have discovered a way to deal with the distortions?”

Augustus straightened. “I do not know what you have heard, but yes, it would appear that there is a way to repair them once they have formed. One of the Wielders, a young girl who only recently earned her jacket, and another purple jacket, stumbled across one of the distortions as it formed. In an attempt to save a woman trapped in it, the girl heedlessly attempted to fix it. From what I have discovered, she succeeded only partially.”

“She failed only because the distortion closed before she had a chance to finish,” Arent corrected.

Augustus’ expression soured, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “That is true.”

Arent had heard much about the two Wielders involved and knew that Augustus had tried to keep the incident quiet—and not because this was the first distortion to harm someone. Arent didn’t know what Augustus’ intentions truly were, but making him aware that Arent wasn’t blind to the situation could do no harm. Let him think that Arent knew much more. They had worked together more or less amicably for decades, but it never hurt to remind Augustus of where he’d gotten the resources to create his precious Nexus in the first place. Without Baron Arent, he’d still be a lesser member of the University, toying with the ley under the mentors’ disdainful eyes, not controlling a network more powerful than anything those same mentors had ever built.

“Why did you not approach me about this incident before this?”

“It is still being investigated.” At Arent’s raised eyebrows, Augustus waved a hand dismissively, but shifted as if agitated. “We’ve spoken to the girl. Based on what she said, it appears that we may be able to repair the distortions, but
only
if we get to them before they close. I have ordered the Wielders in two districts to form up in pairs to patrol the streets, listening for the high-pitched noise that precedes the distortion’s formation while searching the Tapestry for any indications that it is being torn or shredded. As yet, the patrols have not been fortunate enough to run into a distortion in time to attempt to repair it. I have been waiting to report on our progress when there is something of significance to report.”

Arent held Augustus’ gaze a long moment, the only sound in the room their own breathing. When Augustus did not back down, he dropped his gaze toward the map. “What two districts are you using? Show me the patrols that you’ve set up.”

“Eld and Green. I’ve had the Wielders running in circuits, along here and here.” Augustus traced the paths on the map and Arent grunted. They fell into discussing alternate strategies, Arent trying to shift the focus of the effort toward Grass and the districts the Barons were more likely to frequent while they were here, Augustus pointing out that some of the districts had yet to exhibit any fluctuations in the Tapestry or the ley at all, that they should focus on those that had.

In the middle of the argument, the wide double doors to the room burst open and Captain Daedallen stalked into the room and headed directly toward the table, his eyes locked on Arent, not even flickering toward Augustus. This dismissal of the Prime Wielder caught Arent’s attention more than the urgency of Daedallen’s step.

“We need to review all of the Dogs’ assignments and placements for the Baronial Meeting. Right now.”

Arent pushed back from the table. “And your reason for this upheaval? We established those orders weeks ago. The Baronial Meeting is only three days away.”

Daedallen’s mouth worked as if he were chewing on something bitter. He glared around the room, made certain the doors had closed behind him, then said curtly, “The Kormanley have infiltrated the Dogs.”

Shock spiked cleanly from Arent’s neck down through his feet and his muscles went rigid. Anger followed, as swift and cold as lightning. “You’re certain?”

“I’m certain. It’s been verified by at least three of the Kormanley we captured last night at Lord Gatterly’s estate, along with Gatterly himself. I would have doubted his word alone, but four of them, interrogated separately?” He shook his head. “They’ve done it. Somehow, they’ve turned some of the Dogs . . . or planted one of their own among us through our training.”

“Lord Gatterly was Kormanley?”

Both Arent and Daedallen turned toward Augustus.

“Yes,” Daedallen said. “He kept an entire gods-damned staging room for them beneath his estate.”

Augustus glowered, but before he could retort, Arent cut in. “I have the assignments of the Dogs here.” He searched through the papers on the table, pushed to one side while he and the Prime Wielder went over the new patrols, his mind working fast. “We’ll have to change the entire schedule, reassign all of the Dogs to different locations. The Kormanley have had weeks to prepare, to organize.”

“Lord Gatterly said that whatever they are planning—and all indications are that it has something to do with the Amber Tower and the Barons, although we don’t know what—has already been set in motion.”

“Changing the roles the Dogs will play may halt that. Unless you have another suggestion?”

Daedallen scowled. “No. None. Except to remove anyone who became a Dog within the last five years from patrolling near the Tower that day. If the Kormanley inserted one of their own into the training, it would have to have been during that time period.”

“The Kormanley have been around much longer than that,” Augustus pointed out.

“They were not as organized or as active before then.”

“But we’ve seen they have long-reaching plans.”

Daedallen glared at the Prime Wielder, who merely shrugged.

“Here is the list,” Arent said, spreading out three sheets across one end of the table. “We should move all of those currently assigned positions inside the Amber Tower to patrols in the outer districts.”

Daedallen nodded. “And call all of those without back in.”

“How many of these men became Dogs within the last five years?”

The captain scanned the list and grimaced. “Too many. We won’t have enough Dogs to cover the Tower without them.”

“Then select those you trust for the Tower only, those you would risk your life with inside the Great Hall.”

“Done.”

“Bring me the revised assignments when you are done.”

Daedallen collected papers. “I’ll have them finished by this evening for your approval.”

“Very well. But do not advise the Dogs of the changes until the day of the Baronial Meeting.”

“Have you learned who is supporting the Kormanley?” Augustus asked.

“Not yet. Lord Gatterly has not been . . . cooperative in that respect. But we have already coerced the others into revealing more of their fellow conspirators’ names.”

“You’re running out of time.”

Daedallen stiffened, tension thrumming through his body, but Arent laid a restraining hand on his arm, turning on Augustus.

“And what of the Wielders, Augustus? If the Kormanley have infiltrated the Dogs, could they not have done the same with the Wielders?”

“Impossible!”

“Are you certain?” When Augustus didn’t answer, Arent added darkly, “Perhaps we should discuss the assignments of the Wielders as well.”

A
LLAN SIDLED UP
to the railing of one of the sky barges, the sounds of light conversation and the clinking of celebratory glasses behind him intermixed with the slight breeze. Gripping the rail, he forced himself to look over the edge toward the interlacing streets of Erenthrall below. The buildings looked completely different from above, roofs of all styles and varieties—slate, wood slats, curved clay tiles, flat with hanging gardens or trellises or strung with clotheslines. A few sported dove cotes, and birds wheeled beneath the ship, or fluttered from building to building beneath them as the shadow of the ship startled them.

Through the smoothed and polished wood of the railing, Allan felt the ship shudder and he tightened his grip.

Behind him, the ship’s captain muttered under his breath to one of the crew, “I don’t understand why it’s shuddering like that. It’s never done that before. We’ve had nothing but smooth sailing since the ships were launched. Head below with one of the Wielders and see if one of them can find—”

The voice trailed off as the captain walked away, hands gesturing curtly. As soon as the crewman dashed off, the captain turned back to the bevy of guests he was escorting, including Barons Calluin, Ranit, and Leethe, his dark frown transformed into a smile. He edged into the group to mingle with a resigned look.

Allan turned, one hand still firmly on the railing, and scanned the crowd of partyers. He knew what was causing the ship to shudder: his presence. He was interrupting the ley’s power simply by being on the ship. He hadn’t ridden in one since he’d realized he affected them years before, had kept himself off of any duty roster that ended up on the flying barges. But he hadn’t had any say in the sudden shift of duty assignments that morning, and he hadn’t wanted to approach Daedallen as he gave them out. He hadn’t wanted to face the pure rage in the captain’s face.

They were returning to the Amber Tower after a tour of the city, delayed because their sky barge had suffered some difficulties taking flight. The three other barges had left without them, three Wielders joining the crew to determine what had gone wrong, Baron Arent watching from the steps of the tower with pursed lips. But as soon as Allan had shifted away from the center of the ship, they’d lifted from the ground, the entire craft shuddering with the effort. Baron Leethe had made a snide comment to Baron Calluin as they breasted the glowing crystal dome of the Nexus.

The rest of the flight had been uneventful, the ship trembling only occasionally. Allan made certain he remained in the prow of the ship, the individual districts drifting by beneath, his gaze mostly fixed on the guests. The height made him nervous.

He tensed out of habit as Hagger approached, the old Dog smiling. He gripped Allan’s shoulder in greeting. “You haven’t moved from this spot since before we left the Tower!”

Allan swallowed, tasted ash at the back of his throat, and smiled tightly. “Because every time I try to move, the ship shudders. Man wasn’t meant to fly like the birds.”

Hagger snorted. “Man does whatever the Baron wants.” His hand dropped from Allan’s shoulder. “Noticed anything untoward?”

Trying to relax, yet still on guard—Hagger and the other Dogs had treated him differently since the interrogation of Gatterly, but he didn’t trust it—Allan shook his head. “Nothing. Perhaps Gatterly was lying.”

“Or the sudden changes made this morning in our assignments bollocksed things up for the Kormanley. But keep an eye out. And watch the Barons. We’ve still got the meeting and the dinner to get through.”

Hagger wandered off. Allan flinched as the barge lurched, hard enough a few of the guests cried out, then laughed at themselves nervously or covered their gaffe with a sip of a drink.

Baron Leethe smiled and shared a look with Calluin, the Baron of Farrade frowning and dropping his gaze.

They approached the tower, rising toward one of the balconies instead of dropping to the ground where they had departed. The barge settled into place, bumping against the amber of the balcony’s railing like a ship nudging a dock, crew scrambling to secure it with ties. The captain released catches and pulled back a section of the ship’s deck railing while servants in the tower lifted a short set of steps into place on the balcony. Strains of music filtered out through the tall glass windows, along with the susurrus of the hundred guests already gathered from the other three barges. Allan could see ley globes bobbing in the heights of the tall ceiling, the white light mingling with the flickering yellow of candlelight, until the entire Great Hall glowed golden. The captain held the ladies’ hands as they disembarked, nodding and bowing to the lords. The Dogs and city guardsmen who’d lingered at the edges of the barge and served as escort during the ride departed last.

When the guests had stepped off the deck, Allan moved forward, falling in behind Hagger. As he neared the center of the barge, it began listing to one side.

The crew cried out, and Hagger and Allan leaped forward, jumping from the deck across the gap that was opening up between the ship and the balcony. Both tumbled down the steps to the balcony, rolling to break the fall, while behind the barge lurched again and straightened.

“Is there a problem?”

Allan glanced up to find Captain Daedallen standing over them, brow creased in concern as he stared at the barge, the captain cursing the Wielders as they emerged from below deck.

Hagger chuckled. “Not for us. But the Wielders might have some explaining to do.”

“Then come with me. The Baronial Meeting is about to be called and I want you two on the main doors to the inner chamber.”

They both stood and brushed off their formal uniforms, entering the Great Hall behind Daedallen. Inside, the golden light was more evident, an immense chandelier hung with thousands of dangling crystals amplifying the ley and candlelight. Long tables laden with food—fruits and cheeses, biscuits and tiny sandwiches—and thousands of candles lined both sides of the elongated chamber. More candles were set on trays held aloft by the Wielders, like the barges outside. An orchestra played at the far end of the Hall, the wide space before it filled with dancing couples in all of their finery, while the nearer space was being set up by a hundred servants for the dinner service after the official Meeting. Allan scoured the amber-clothed servants for sign of Moira, but didn’t see her. He knew she was here somewhere, though, Morrell left home with the wet nurse. He hadn’t wanted her to come, but there’d been no chance of convincing the steward to assign her elsewhere, not with this many guests in the tower.

He tried to suppress the nervous worry that prickled his shoulders and scoured the room for signs of trouble.

The captain of the Dogs stationed them halfway down the Hall outside the doors into the inner chamber and meeting hall. A raised stage had been built in the center of the room, separating the dance floor from the dining area, the Barons’ table set upon it, Arent’s seat in the middle with the tallest back, the other seats arrayed around it. The stage stood waist-high, stairs on either side, everything draped in blue cloth.

As Allan settled into place, Baron Arent stepped up onto the platform, the orchestra taking its cue and falling silent with a flourish of stringed instruments. Everyone clapped, those on the dance floor bowing toward the musicians as conversations broke out on all sides. The Baron let the talk continue for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Attention,” he called, and with rustles and shushes the Hall fell silent, all eyes on Baron Arent, the tension in the air expectant, like a held breath.

Baron Arent smiled. “It is time for the Baronial Meeting.”

“—believe that the system is overtaxed. I no longer believe it is safe for the citizens of Farrade to use the ley.”

Baron Calluin drew breath to continue, but Arent had heard enough.

“Overtaxed?”

The word came as a low murmur, and yet his baritone voice filled the austere oval chamber of the Meeting Hall. All of those seated along the length of the elongated table—all six Barons and the captains of their guard, along with Daedallen—fell silent at his voice, turned to look at him where he sat at one end of the table. His seat was elevated, so that he could see all who sat before him in the amber-and-glass chamber lit by the midafternoon sun. It was also situated at one of the foci of the ovoid room so that he could hear every murmur of conversation, every whispered word uttered by anyone sitting at the table. When everyone spoke at once, it became a roar, but he’d learned long ago to focus his attention, to pick out the voices he wanted to hear and to filter out those he didn’t, although sometimes he simply let the susurrus of sound surround him.

But not today. Every voice counted today. Every word. Every nuance and inflection. The Dogs had been unable to break Lord Gatterly and the other Kormanley they’d captured, but he knew one of the Barons controlled them, the certainty in his gut. Someone had seen their potential for disturbance, for disruption, and had seized the opportunity. He intended to find out whom here, before the Barons signed the treaty regarding the ley system that would cede authority over all of the Baronies to Arent Pallentor and Erenthrall for another four years.

And he did not think Baron Calluin was the traitor.

“Overtaxed?” he repeated, leaning forward slightly, although not far enough to be outside of the foci of the room. “Overtaxed how?”

Calluin, who stood at his position, shot a glance toward Baron Leethe before collecting himself and meeting Arent’s gaze. Arent leaned back, satisfied. So Calluin was Leethe’s mouthpiece.

“The Flyers’ Tower,” Calluin said, motioning with one hand toward the windows and the view of the towers of Grass beyond, his brow knit in irritation. “I am astounded by what the Wielders have achieved—the sky barges were most impressive—but at what cost? I heard rumors of . . . disturbances within the ley here in Erenthrall, but I did not credit them until my arrival here. The sky barge I rode in our tour of the city shook and quaked for no apparent reason. The crew and Wielders aboard appeared to have no explanation, and did not know what to do to repair it. I feared that I would not make it back to land safely!”

The other Barons stirred at this, Sillare leaning forward to say, “My experience of the tour was quite different, the ride as smooth and gentle as a breeze. Perhaps it is not the ley or the tower that is at fault. Perhaps it is simply a flaw in the construction of that barge.”

Conversations broke out, and Arent listened attentively, even though no one spoke above a whisper. He honed in on Leethe’s voice, but the Baron was merely verifying what Calluin had stated regarding the barge ride.

“And then there are the distortions,” Baron Tavor said, loudly enough that Arent winced, and catching the attention of all of those gathered. He stood and faced Arent. “Not to mention these Kormanley priests and their attacks. Before I sign any treaty regarding the ley, I want to know what you intend to do about them. They have struck my city twice more this summer!”

The Barons grumbled now, with a dark undertone that Arent did not like. There had never been this much dissension among the Barons regarding the ley. Not since he’d so bloodily and forcefully seized control of the Baronies decades before.

He needed to end this now, before it grew to more than simple words. They all needed a reminder of who was in control here.

He stood, everyone looking toward him expectantly. He waited until he had their undivided attention.

“Your concerns are noted and appreciated, however they are unnecessary.” He faced Calluin, the Baron still standing. “The Nexus here in Erenthrall—the Nexus that controls all of the ley not only throughout the Baronies but the lands beyond—is not overtaxed. I have been assured of this by Prime Wielder Augustus.”

Baron Leethe scoffed and Arent shot him a dark frown. But the other Barons were listening, even if they had not been convinced yet.

He rapped the top of the table before him with his knuckles, then began a circuit around the room, behind the Barons who remained seated.

“You forget that Augustus is the architect of the Nexus, the mind behind its creation and that of the network of Nexi that we have built in your cities and those of our neighbors. With this network, we have been able to solidify the power of the Baronies with the rest of the world. We have been able to seize our rightful place on the world stage, not only in trade, but in political power as well. Before the creation of the Nexus and the harnessing of the ley, the Baronies were nothing! We were trade outposts that the other nations passed through on their way to larger ports and greater lands, greater cities! Now, we have become great ourselves. Our cities rival those of the seaports and the other nations bow down to us, since without us, they would not have access to the ley. Our Wielders in their cities, sent to control the Nexi we have built there, control more than the ley. They control the very people themselves, the lords of the western Demesnes, the Gorrani and their sheiks, the trading houses of the Temerites, and the Juwari women of the Archipelago. And it is Augustus who has given us this power!”