Shattering the Ley (55 page)

Her attention was fixed above, her eyes shaded with both hands, the ley globe floating forgotten to one side. He noted a few of the other Wielders were staring straight up as well.

Squinting, he followed the Wielders’ gazes.

Overhead, nearly straight above their position, a fiery ball of white light roiled against the vivid blue of the sky. Allan grimaced, his eyes watering even though they were narrowed down to slits. The light was more intense than the sun, seemed larger than the sun as well, and with a start he realized that it was the source of the piercing whine that grated against his ears and shuddered in his bones.

“What is it?” he asked.

The Wielder who’d rescued him dropped her hands and looked at him, her face lined with dread.

“It’s the beginning of a distortion.”

The older Wielder looked skyward and gasped. “It’s bigger than anything I’ve ever seen.”

The Wielder nodded. Then, in a strangely flat, matter-of-fact voice, she proclaimed, “If this one quickens, I think it will consume the entire city.”

“W
E HAVE TO REPAIR IT,”
Kara said.

The older Wielder with the wispy hair snorted. “How? It’s too big. We’ll never be able to surround it.”

“She’s right,” one of the other Wielders said. He shook his head, his eyes wide in wonder as he stared up at the pulsing white light. “I wouldn’t even know how to begin.”

Kara frowned in irritation. “We can’t do it as individuals, no, but if we work together. . . .” She let the thought trail off, then spun around and indicated the Wielders who’d climbed out of the cells of the tower, focusing on those who were older, more experienced. Most were around her age—late twenties or early thirties. Only one appeared to be newly released from the college. “There are seven of us altogether. If we link up, support each other, we can stop it.”

The older woman’s jaw tightened. “I’m not certain it will work even then.”

“We have to try. Otherwise—”

She didn’t get to finish. With a slow, growling rumble, the earth beneath them shook, throwing nearly everyone to the ground, men and women crying out as the stone beneath them heaved. On the far side of the park, part of a dull brown tower that had remained standing after the initial blast collapsed with a roar. Dust rose all around them as the earth shifted, and a few shards from the remains of the Amber Tower cascaded down and shattered, peppering one of the younger Dogs. He screamed, cuts riddling his face as he staggered, stumbled, and rolled around on the ground, hands raised to cover his eyes.

A moment later, it stopped, the rumble fading into the distance, the ground settling.

Kara picked herself up to find the ex-Dog who’d been tortured crouched protectively over his daughter, exactly as he had been when caught in the distortion. As soon as the earthquake faded, he stood and grabbed his daughter’s hand, heading down the steps toward the street and the city beyond.

“Where are you going?” Kara called out, apprehension rising in the back of her throat. She didn’t want to be left alone with the Dogs and the other Wielders; she didn’t want to be left alone at all.

Without turning, the tortured Dog barked, “Away!”

“You won’t make it,” Kara cried, taking a step forward. “You don’t have enough time to make it out of its range. If it quickens, it will enclose the entire city!”

That brought the Dog up short. He spun back with a snarl. “You said I was immune!”

She realized he was right. If the distortions didn’t affect him, as they hadn’t before, he might be able to escape, even if the Wielders weren’t with him. He might be able to leave whenever he wanted.

“I don’t know that for certain,” Kara countered, trying not to let desperation creep into her voice. “What if the distortion doesn’t affect you when it forms, but then you’re trapped inside it? Can you move around inside one after it’s formed?” That caught his attention; Kara saw him frown. He didn’t know, or at least wasn’t certain. She pushed the advantage. “Maybe you’re immune, maybe you’re not. But I
know
we aren’t. None of us are.”

“That’s not my problem.” He tugged on his daughter’s arm and started off again, reaching the edge of the street, turning toward the west.

“It
is
your problem,” she shouted. “You’re going to need us. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know it involved the ley. The entire system is in turmoil. You might be able to protect your daughter from men like these Dogs, or whatever else might be out there, but can you protect her from what’s happening to the ley? Can you protect her from the distortion? Think about her. You don’t know what’s out there!”

She knew the argument was weak, but he halted. He’d made it to the nearest intersection, now blocked by a massive chunk of gray stone. As if she’d planned it, something in the northern part of the city cracked and a plume of white ley light rocketed into the sky like a geyser, sheets of light breaking away from it in the wind and skirting west like spray. Parts of it shimmered like a prism, the light broken into reds and greens and gold. She saw the ex-Dog turn toward it, the muscles working in his jaw, his eyes narrowed. His daughter nudged his arm and he looked down, listening with a frown as she spoke. Kara was too far away to hear what she said, but the ex-Dog looked toward her, his expression angry.

“You’d better come with us,” he said grudgingly, his eyes shifting to include all of them, even the Dogs. “I don’t know what we’ll find out there, but it would probably be better to meet it as a group.” He shifted toward the tower and raised his voice. “That includes whoever is hiding out in the tower!”

Kara sucked in a sharp breath, everyone stilling to listen. The whine from the distortion continued, although Kara was growing used to its piercing tone. No one emerged from the tower.

Arguments broke out among the Wielders and the Dogs. Kara caught fragments, some urging the others to break away, one woman desperate to find her family. The Dogs were grumbling, eyeing the ex-Dog with hooded eyes as two of them dealt with the one who’d gotten splinters of amber in his face.

The older Wielder with the wispy hair shifted toward her and murmured, “Do we really need him?”

Kara exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath. “He’s right. The city’s quiet now because the survivors are still in shock. But once night falls?”

Both of them turned toward were the sun rested above the horizon.

“I trust him more than I trust the Dogs,” the woman said. “And we aren’t safe here.”

“I don’t think we’ll be safe anywhere inside the city, not once everyone shakes off their fear and begins moving,” Kara said, then shot a look toward the pulsing light of the distortion. “We’re going to have to deal with it eventually.”

“Agreed. But not right now. We need time to figure out what happened. And maybe we’ll find someone else who knows more than us, one of the Primes, perhaps.”

Unease roiled in Kara’s stomach as she watched the distortion, but she turned toward the ex-Dog and shoved it aside. It was too close to nightfall, and she knew nothing about the ley system at the moment, how damaged it was, how extensive the destruction. She knew nothing about distortions of such size either. It could quicken within moments, or it could remain stable for days.

She drew herself up, steadied her trembling hands, and said, “I’ll come with you.”

The ex-Dog nodded and turned toward the others. All but one of the Wielders, in his mid-thirties, drew up near Kara, but after a long moment, even he joined them. The leader of the Dogs gazed at them, eyes narrowed, then flicked a quick assent toward the ex-Dog. “We’ll come.” For now, his tone suggested, even though he didn’t say it out loud. Some of his fellow Dogs didn’t appear to like the idea.

The ex-Dog said nothing, merely turning back in the direction he’d been headed. Kara started out after him, the Wielders and Dogs trailing behind at a slower pace.

“What’s your plan?” she asked when she caught up with him.

“I have no plan,” he said, and for the first time Kara heard weariness in his voice. He glanced down toward his daughter. “I just want to get my daughter out of Erenthrall.”

Kara frowned. “You won’t make it out before nightfall.”

“Then we’ll find some place to spend the night,” he snapped.

Kara drew breath for a biting retort, but someone behind her gasped and she glanced up.

They’d moved away from the cover of the towers, Erenthrall now spread out before them. The southern part of the city was ablaze, the fire raging out of control, the columns of smoke so thick and black they covered at least three districts. The wind blew it west, the ash and embers settling across the river along Tannery Row and West Forks. The fire was a distant roar, like a wind. Kara stared down toward the University, her heart clenching as she wondered what had happened to Cory and Hernande, to all of the mentors and students, even the stupid little dog who had attached itself to her after she’d rescued it from the distortion. The geyser of ley to the north had ended, those districts strangely quiet, although they could hear an occasional unnatural howl rising somewhere from its depths that sent a shiver down Kara’s spine. Bizarre lights played across a few of the districts, shimmering and fading like the northern lights that could sometimes be seen above the Steppe.

“What was that howling?” the ex-Dog’s daughter asked. She was staring off to the north, her face troubled. Kara judged her to be about ten years old, maybe a little older. She was handling the situation better than Kara would have expected, her expression shocked and frightened, but serious, compared to one or two of the Wielders, who were nearly catatonic, barely functioning enough to follow along with the group. Only the death-grip on her father’s hand revealed her age.

“I don’t know, Poppet,” her father said, “but it’s far enough away I don’t think we need to worry about it.”

Kara wasn’t so certain.

“What’s your name?” she asked the girl as the ex-Dog nudged them back into motion.

The girl shot a questioning look toward her father, who shrugged. “Morrell,” she said uncertainly, then added with a fierce frown. “Not Poppet.”

Her father smiled.

“My name’s Kara. I’m a Wielder.” She let her gaze settle on the ex-Dog expectantly.

After a moment, he glanced sideways, then grumbled in irritation, “Allan.”

Kara motioned to the lacerations and bruises that marred his back, a few of the deeper cuts actively bleeding. “You should let someone take a look at that.”

Allan tensed, then forced himself to relax. “Later.”

Another howl rose in the distance, joined by two others, much closer. The Dogs behind stared into the distance, grips tightening on their swords. The Wielders drew closer together.

“What’s happened to this city?” the older Wielder muttered. “What’s happened to Erenthrall?”

No one answered.

Dierdre burst into the main room of the building in West Forks, backlit by a hellish haze of ash and the pulsing blood-orange of fire until she closed the door. The acrid scent of smoke jerked Dalton out of his daze, his attention fixating on Dierdre.

“We have to move. Right now. The fire’s blowing this way.”

Two of the other Kormanley in the room—Michael and Brendan, both young, about Dierdre’s age—began pulling the backpacks they’d assembled earlier over their shoulders. Darius, Dierdre’s older brother, did the same as he asked, “Where are we headed?”

“I don’t know, but we can’t stay here. One of the northern districts. It looked like they were untouched, but it was hard to tell through the smoke. People are fleeing the fire. We can hide ourselves in the confusion.”

Dalton frowned but said nothing as Darius grunted and motioned the others to the door. Dierdre headed toward Dalton, knelt at his side.

“We have to leave, Father. It isn’t safe to remain here any longer.”

She spoke to him as if he were a child. But then, since the horrendous explosion that had rocked the foundation of the building, collapsing the upper floors, he had sunk into a stupor. His first sight of Erenthrall through the upper windows as Dierdre herded the entire group to the lower floors had caused him to stumble in shock, his chest seizing so hard he hadn’t been able to breathe. His mind had frozen, Dierdre cursing as he fumbled his way down the stairs with her help. He had known something horrible had happened when the world flashed white a moment before the quake—had known it was the advent of his vision—but he couldn’t have imagined how staggering it would be to see it. The entire world had changed in the course of a moment; everything he had foreseen had come true.

And he could have stopped it.

That thought alone had paralyzed him with unadulterated guilt and horror. He had seen what would happen, had been warned, and he had still faltered. No, worse—he had
failed
. And there was no way to fix it.

He stared at Dierdre as she knelt beside him. Then she sighed in irritation and grabbed his arm, intending to haul him to the door and out into the decimated streets of Erenthrall.

He jerked back and barked, “No!”

Galvanized into action, he stood on his own, Dierdre staring at him in shocked surprise, the three others at the door turning. He met all of their gazes, his stance hardening in defiance, then turned to Dierdre again.

“No. You’re right, we need to move. Even if there were no fire, we would need to move. But not to the northern districts. Not to any district. We need to leave Erenthrall altogether.”

“What do you mean?” Brendan asked, his voice cracking with fear. He swallowed with a grimace, turned widened eyes on Darius.

“We can’t leave Erenthrall,” Dierdre’s older brother said. “Where would we go?”

“Don’t you see?” Dalton said. Outside, he could hear the howl of the fire growing closer. The building creaked around them and the men at the door shifted nervously. Dalton motioned Dierdre forward, grabbed one of the remaining packs himself and shrugged it over one shoulder. He headed toward the door. “Erenthrall is dead. The Baron’s subversion of the ley, and Augustus’ twisting of it, has ended. This was the price.”

He opened the door, flinched back from the heat of the fires raging a few blocks away and the swirling embers and ash that assailed him. He raised a hand to shield his face and stared out into the street, out beyond the fire to the cracked and toppled towers in the distance. Above it all, a ball of white light blazed, obscured a moment later by the thick smoke. The wind kicked up by the near inferno forced him to raise his voice as he half turned back to those clustered behind him.