Shattering the Ley (8 page)

The man screamed, the sound trapped in the low room, grating against Allan’s skin and making his shoulders hunch. The woman shrieked and tried to intervene, but Hagger backhanded her, the other two Dogs grabbing her and pulling her away. Allan focused on the table as the torture continued, Hagger releasing the man and repeating his question.

The papers were covered with notes and sketches of maps from different locations around the city, mostly parks and larger intersections, a few of the ley stations where people could catch barges to different parts of the city. One map appeared to be of the ley routes, starting at the central area of Grass—at least those that were visible above ground. Allan knew that the Wielders kept the true ley lines—those underground—secret. He pushed the maps aside, looking for a list of names, for something that would identify the Kormanley priests, but there was nothing that obvious among the papers.

Disgusted but not surprised—the Kormanley were adept at keeping their members secret—he spread the maps out again, rearranging them into a rough pattern of the inner city’s districts, then bent over them, squinting at the scrawled notes. Most were senseless, a sequence of numbers or letters that didn’t form words. Like a code.

Allan shook his head and stood back, his gaze falling on the waterskins.

Except they weren’t waterskins. Not really.

Behind, the woman screamed, the sound degenerating into a whimper, and Allan turned to see Hagger thrust her away in disdain, a knife held in one hand. Her face was lined with bloody, yet shallow, cuts, and streaked with tears. The man lay on the floor, facedown, moaning.

“They’re Kormanley,” Allan said.

Hagger spun on him, hand clenched on his knife, a snarl twisting his mouth. Allan had seen him like this before—enraged, on the verge of a full-out brawl—usually when the interrogations of the Kormanley they did find didn’t go as planned.

Like this one.

“How do you know?” Hagger snapped.

Allan picked up one of the skins. “Remember the sowing? The Kormanley who immolated himself? He was wearing one of these.”

Hagger broke away from the two prisoners and approached the table.

Allan opened the one he held and sniffed the contents, grimacing, then held it up for Hagger. “Lamp oil. These were strapped to that man’s chest. He split them open with a knife, then set himself on fire.”

Hagger took a whiff of the skin. “Sick bastards,” he muttered, then glared at the two captives. One of the other Dogs had pulled the man back into a kneeling position. Both of them were wobbling in place, the woman’s head downcast, the man’s face set with rage.

“They’re just like all the others,” Allan said. “They aren’t going to tell us anything.”

Hagger stiffened, then jammed his knife back into its sheath and motioned toward the other Dogs. “Take them back to the Amber Tower. Take everything in here. The captain will want to see it.”

The Dogs dragged the two Kormanley outside, then began tearing the place apart. Allan scooped up the papers, folded them, and tucked them into a pocket.

Hagger gave him a funny look. “Something important in there?”

“I don’t know, but there’s something bothering me about it.”

“Just make certain it gets to the captain.”

Allan nodded, back straightening at the undercurrent of suspicion and threat in Hagger’s tone. He reminded himself that he hadn’t been part of the Dogs for long, even if he had caught the attention of the Baron.

Hagger watched the Dogs working, then motioned toward Allan. “Come along. We need to meet with the captain and tell him what we found.”

They ducked out of the hidden room, through the stench of vinegar and brine, and back onto the street. A few people gawked at the Dogs’ activity from a safe distance, but none of them appeared to be a threat. Hagger ignored them, turning north out of the small square, moving at a brisk pace. Allan’s breath came in short gasps by the time they’d wound their way out of Eld and into Green.

A short time later, Hagger slowed, turning toward the base of one of the newest spires in Erenthrall. Allan tilted his head back and scanned the narrow tower’s length as they crossed the plaza where the spire had been grown. It was too thin to hold any rooms, more like the bole of a tree, but it soared well over the nearest buildings. Since the sowing of the main tower in Grass, twelve of these smaller spires had been grown in different parts of the city, four in the inner city surrounding Grass, and eight more in the outermost districts, set on two concentric circles that encompassed Erenthrall. None of the Dogs knew what they were for, and the Wielders had kept silent.

Allan spotted Captain Daedallen at the base of the tower, with Baron Arent, Prime Wielder Augustus, and another man at his side. The Prime Wielder was shouting at a group of Wielders working frantically around the tower’s base.

“—keep working, you fools! This subtower must be activated by the end of the day today or we’ll fall behind schedule. No, no, Parl, adjust your position, you’re too far to the left.” Augustus heaved a sigh and stalked over to one of the Wielders, seizing him by the shoulders and shoving him hard to the left. “My left, not yours. Now prepare yourself. Use the catechism if you have to. Barthen, are the others ready on the far side? What about those from the University? Good. Have the Wielders begin calling the ley, then.”

Hagger and Allan had halted a respectful distance away from the Baron, Daedallen, and the man Allan didn’t know, outside of their small entourage of Dogs and Wielders. None of them had noticed them yet, but when Augustus spun around, he caught sight of them and frowned.

He moved back to Baron Arent’s side.

“How are the preparations coming, Prime Wielder?” The Baron’s tone was mild, but Augustus grimaced.

“As well as can be expected, my lord Baron.” Augustus’ eyes flicked toward Hagger and Allan and both Baron Arent and Daedallen turned to look.

Daedallen waved Hagger forward, Allan at his heels. “Report.”

“We raided the house the Kormanley priest revealed to us during his interrogation and found a hidden room and two more Kormanley inside. We questioned them at the site, but they did not break. The entire contents of the room are being hauled back to the Amber Tower for inspection, along with the two prisoners. I expect they will be more forthcoming there.”

“What was found in the room?”

“There were books, maps, a set of pages with notes, and a few skins of oil. We believe the skins are like those used by the priest who set fire to himself at the sowing.”

Baron Arent stirred, face troubled. “So they are planning more immolations?”

Hagger bowed his head. “So it would seem.”

Prime Wielder Augustus cleared his throat. “You said there were notes? And maps?”

Hagger deferred to Allan. With a nervous start, he reached into his pocket and retrieved the pages, handing them over to Augustus, who snatched them from his grasp. As the Prime Wielder began glancing through them, he said, “These were scattered on the table that held the oil. I couldn’t decipher the notations, but I think there’s something in the maps that I’m not quite seeing. Something important. There was also a banner over the table with a strange symbol on it.”

The man Allan didn’t know glanced up sharply. “What symbol?” Allan realized he must come from the University, like some of those helping the Wielders with the subtower.

“A wavy vertical line with a straight line branching off from it. Like this.” Allan knelt and sketched the symbol in the dust of the flagstones of the plaza.

Augustus snorted in contempt.

“You recognize this symbol?” Baron Arent asked.

Arent addressed the question to Augustus, but the man from the University answered. “It’s the symbol of convergence, of a return to the natural order. See how the straight line converges with the vertical one? The Kormanley must have adopted it as their own.”

“Does it have any other meanings, Sovaan? Anything subversive?”

“Only in the sense that the Kormanley have apparently adopted it.”

Augustus turned back to the pages with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s nonsense.” He rifled through them, his brow creasing in consternation as he glared at the notations. His lips moved as if he were muttering to himself, but Allan couldn’t catch any of the words.

And then he stilled, his eyes going wide.

“What is it?” Baron Arent asked.

Augustus stared at him in shock. “These maps . . . they’re all of the locations of the subtowers, along with a few of the ley stations and nodes.”

Sovaan frowned. “Let me see.”

“Which means what?” Daedallen asked as Augustus handed the notes over to Sovaan. He had shifted slightly forward, reacting to the edge in Augustus’ voice.

“It means that the Kormanley are targeting the subtowers. Or at least the Wielders who are set to guard them.”

“I agree,” Sovaan added. “All of their notes reference the new locations of the subtowers, even those we haven’t sown yet.”

Everyone remained silent as what Augustus and Sovaan said sank in.

Then Baron Arent said, “Can they disrupt the process from these subtowers?”

“Once the subtowers are activated, they could only disrupt it by destroying the spires.”

“How long before all of the subtowers are activated?”

Augustus frowned. “Ten days. After that, only the main tower within Grass needs to be activated for the new network to begin working.”

Baron Arent turned toward Daedallen. “I find it hard to believe that these skins of oil would be enough to bring down one of the subtowers. They must be planning something to halt their activation instead. I want an increased guard on the subtowers until the unveiling in two weeks.”

“The Dogs will handle it.”

“I’ll have additional Wielders stationed at the sites as well, just in case.”

Daedallen tensed, as if offended, but the Baron settled him with a cool look.

Barthen, the Wielder who had organized the others while Augustus was occupied, moved to the Prime Wielder’s side. “We’re ready to activate the spire.”

Augustus immediately turned away, staring up at the tower overhead. With a quick nod of approval from Sovaan, he said, “Proceed.” His voice had hardened, his attention so focused that the Baron, Daedallen, and the rest of the Dogs were forgotten. His intensity made Allan’s skin crawl and he was suddenly thankful that he was not one of the Wielders beneath Augustus’ hand. He would hate to have that gaze settled on him fully. The scrutiny of the Baron was hard enough.

Hagger gasped and Allan focused on the array of Wielders and University mentors beyond. All of them had their eyes closed, hands folded casually before them, and yet their faces were pinched in concentration. Three paces from Allan, Augustus’ breathing slowed and fell into a steady rhythm, drawn in through his nose and out through his mouth. The others appeared to follow suit, until those nearest matched Augustus. Sovaan had drifted to one side, scanning those from the University. Augustus may have created the Nexus, but it required the skills of those from the University to help channel such large energies into its appropriate uses.

Both Baron Arent and Daedallen had tensed and were staring up at the tower in anticipation.

“Can’t you feel it?” Hagger asked, his voice a low rumble. Allan noticed that the hairs on Hagger’s arm were standing on end. “It’s the same as it was at the party.”

Allan shook his head. “I don’t feel anything. I didn’t feel anything at the party either.”

Hagger shivered and ran his hands up and down his arms. “It isn’t unpleasant. It just . . . prickles.”

Before Allan could respond—shifting awkwardly as he strove to feel something, anything—Augustus grimaced as if in pain.

Baron Arent immediately stepped forward. “What is it?”

Augustus shook his head, a curt gesture. “Something is disrupting the ley field. I can’t pinpoint what or where it is, though.”

“I sense it as well,” Sovaan said.

Daedallen instantly scanned the people who had gathered on the plaza or were passing through, eyes darting from face to face. Hagger and Allan responded as well, stepping away, hands falling to their swords.

“Could it be the Kormanley?” Daedallen asked.

“I don’t know,” Augustus snapped.

Baron Arent nodded and with a sharp gesture of his hand Daedallen ordered the nearest Dogs, including Hagger and Allan, out into the crowd.

Allan split off from Hagger, but kept him in sight, the crowd parting before him, most with a sudden look of fear crossing their faces. He clenched his jaw, felt his face harden, and slid past the terrified citizens. Even though they moved out of his way, their attention was still focused on the spire and the Wielders working beneath it. One woman cried out when she saw him, jumping to one side. A young boy gasped and fled for a side street. Allan tore after him, shoved people aside with low curses, then realized the boy was merely a pickpocket. He growled, letting him go. He searched the press of people, others scattering as the Dogs worked their way through the crowd, but he saw no one in the white robes of the Kormanley priests, no one acting suspicious.

Then everyone in the group gasped, a few hands pointing upward.

Allan spun and caught the first edges of white light as it surged through the inside of the tower, bleeding out through cracks in the spire’s side as it rose. In the space of two breaths, it spiked to the top of the tower and exploded outward in a flare of light that made the crowd cry out and shy away, hands raised to cover their eyes. Allan squinted, head tilted to one side, but after a few pulses the light subsided to a bearable level.

After a few moments, Allan realized that the light wasn’t going to fade completely. It seeped from the cracks in the tower, making it look more like the texture of bark, and burned at the apex like the beacon of a lighthouse.

“I guess they handled the disruption,” Hagger muttered, coming up on Allan’s right. “I wonder what it was?”

Allan didn’t say anything, suppressing a surge of fear. He suspected he’d caused the disruption himself, simply by being near Augustus and Sovaan and the others as they worked. He’d been in Erenthrall long enough to notice that whenever he was close to objects powered by the ley, they flickered or, in some cases, died completely. He didn’t understand why it happened, but he knew he didn’t want Hagger, or anyone else for that matter, to find out. So he kept himself as far from ley-powered objects as he could, knowing through some careful experimentation of his own that a little distance—five feet or more—usually resolved the problem. Although it did appear to be getting worse.