The boy nodded and sprinted toward the stairs.
Ty faced the approaching army again, leaning forward onto the crenellations, the wind blowing his blond hair into ragged tufts. “And now we wait.”
To the west, the black-purple clouds moving in lit up with a flare of lightning, although they were still too distant for the thunder to be heard. The initial panic on the parapet calmed down, what defenses they had already prepared. Within the hour, the guard on the gates had doubled; Hernande could see more enforcers lining the walls. The debacle at the gates was unsnagged, and everyone who’d been outside at the first sighting had managed to clear the walls, the gates thundering closed. The three abandoned carts had been left outside, one with a broken wheel. The wind increased, the grasses on the plains shimmering in ripples of green and yellow, like waves on an ocean. The temperature fell dramatically, the sun fading as the clouds converged overhead. Visibility dropped, the approaching army fading into shadow, the men around them cursing. Ley lights flickered on, spilling their white light across the stone at key points along the wall, accompanied by torches in many other locations.
Two hours later, one of the guards shouted and pointed toward something on the ground below, jolting Hernande from a damp reverie. Light rain—more a misty drizzle—had started twenty minutes earlier, but the approaching thunder promised a much heavier downpour shortly. Hernande stepped up to the edge of the wall next to Ty.
“Now what?” Hernande picked out a lone figure running toward the gates, black against the dreary gray landscape.
“One of our scouts.” Ty turned as the figure passed out of sight. “Let him in!”
The order was passed down to the gates and ten minutes later a drenched enforcer—a man no more than eighteen, shivering with the cold and damp—came to a halt before them.
“Who’s approaching?” Ty demanded.
“It’s Allan Garrett, sir, with the Wolves and the Temerites from Erenthrall.”
Ten
KARA, TY, HERNANDE, AND MARCUS met Allan and the others outside the walls, rain still pouring down from the skies, lightning flaring and thunder growling all around them. The leading groups of men and wagons emerged from the sheeting rain like wraiths, without even lanterns to guide them. Kara didn’t even recognize Allan until he came within twenty steps of the four of them. Until then, nervous tension dripped from her arms and fingers like the rain, even though the scouts had assured them of who approached. They’d closed the gates behind them, in case it was some type of ruse or trap.
When Allan raised his head, hair plastered to his forehead, he looked toward Kara. But it was Ty who stepped forward.
“Welcome back,” the commander of the enforcers said, then looked beyond Allan toward the others. His hand rested on the pommel of his sword. “Who are those with you?”
Allan glanced back, the Wolf-lord Grant shifting forward with an escort of two Wolves, along with Bryce and a few of the guards that had been sent along with them. Allan gestured with one hand and the wagon driven by Gaven pulled close enough Kara could see an older Temerite woman sitting in the bed in some type of chair, surrounded by tarp-covered crates and supplies and two other Temerite men, one obviously a protector, the other more like a servant. A smaller group of Temerite guardsmen flanked the cart on both sides. One of these men stepped forward, back rigid with formality, another man a pace behind.
Half-turned, Allan said, “May I present to you Captain Lienta and Lieutenant Boskell of the Temerite Legion, along with their Matriarch, Isaiella Tunettia.”
Lienta and Boskell nodded their heads stiffly in Ty’s direction, both of their expressions taut with a grim pride. Boskell’s thin lips were downturned with a hint of anger and distrust. The rest of the Temerite guardsmen surrounding the wagon were on edge, fearful but also hopeful. All of them looked haggard and shot longing glances at the wall, lit from above with ley light and torches. Many of them were coughing, the sound thick with phlegm.
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t stand up to greet you, Commander Ty,” the Matriarch said, her voice slicing through the shush of the rain on the grasses. Her gaze flicked from Ty to Kara and Kara drew in a sharp breath. “We are what remain of the Temerite enclave from Erenthrall. It’s been a hard and slow journey getting here—a tiring journey—and we would seek sanctuary here at the Needle. Your Lord Allan has told us all about you.”
Allan grimaced at the title, but said, “I told them the Needle would take them in. None of us would have returned if not for them.” Grant made a soft wuffling noise of protest and Allan rolled his eyes. “Most of us wouldn’t have returned.”
Ty shot Kara a look. “How many of them are there?”
“Close to five hundred, not all of them Temerites. Some are groups we picked up during our escape from the city.”
“Escape?” Kara and Ty said together.
“It’s a long story.”
Kara heard the understatement in his tone, but said, “We can’t hold that many. The city is already too crowded.”
“The western district,” Hernande said from beside her. “Beyond the chasm.”
“Do you have enough guardsmen to protect yourselves?” Ty asked Lienta. “The western district has been mostly abandoned. It does not have defenses along the chasm side.”
“We can protect ourselves,” Lienta said. The water dripping from his nose ruined his forced dignity. Boskell looked affronted.
“We appreciate any shelter that you can provide,” the Matriarch said, as a growl of thunder rolled over them. “We must speak of what has happened in Erenthrall, but first I need to see my people situated.” She glanced up toward the ley lights overhead, blinking against the water as it ran down her face. “Where is this western district? This chasm?”
Ty spun and shouted the all-clear signal to the wall, and within moments the gates were clanging ponderously open, the portcullis rising. A ragged cheer came from the Temerites, and Captain Lienta began passing back orders through the wagon train. Allan was already conferring with him, gesturing toward the north and west, where they’d have to skirt the chasm and then approach again from the city’s western side, entering the deserted section through the abandoned western gate. Ty arranged an escort of enforcers to show them the way.
Kara leaned in toward Marcus. “You should go with them. Find Dylan. See if you two can tap into the ley lines and get some heating stones and ley globes working over there and get his report at the same time.”
“Good idea. I’ll send back for some of the other Wielders to come help.”
“They look miserable,” Hernande said as word spread—followed by groans—that they wouldn’t be entering the city through this gate, that they’d have to travel west. Wagons began to turn, one getting caught in the runnel of mud alongside the stone road. But Hernande wasn’t watching the Temerites. His eyes were locked on Allan. “You should send some healers as well. Some of them sound sick. We don’t need influenza spreading through the Needle.”
“I’ll inform Freesia. She can rally the healers.”
“Not all of them,” Hernande said.
But before Kara could ask him what he meant, he stepped forward and snagged Allan’s sleeve when it appeared Allan was going to follow Lienta, Boskell, Bryce, Ty, and the Matriarch toward their new enclave.
“What is it?” Allan asked, motioning the others to continue without him.
“It’s Morrell.” Allan stilled, body going rigid with tension, but Hernande continued, “She’s fine—or at least she will be. She’s resting in the hospital. I assumed you’d want to see her immediately. Drayden’s watching over her.”
Exhaustion and the chill from trudging through the rain over the last dozen miles to the Needle had seeped into Allan’s bones, but as soon as he saw Morrell lying on the cot in the hospital, all his aches and pains doubled. He drew in a shuddering breath, staggering slightly, as if from
a physical blow—
And then he was falling to his knees at his daughter’s side, catching himself on the cot. The motion jolted Morrell awake; she drew back from his reaching hand in fear, startled, until recognition struck.
She lurched up from the bed and embraced him and he clung to her, even though the position was awkward and the muscles in his lower back protested. He breathed in the scent of her hair—tangy with salt from sand, with an underlying must from old stone—as he cradled her head and stroked her back. She half babbled, half sobbed, her voice rumbling in her chest as she tried to talk, her heart racing with excitement, but for a long moment Allan didn’t hear a word she said. He merely held her, the world fading away—the long trek from Erenthrall with the Matriarch and Lienta and all of their people, the horror over what had happened in the city while they were there and as they left—all of it simply sluiced off him, released in a sigh of contentment.
But then he realized Morrell was trying to tell him something, something important, at least to her, and he forced himself back into the moment.
He opened his eyes, sought out Drayden, the mostly human man with a few remaining traces of Wolf in him crouched down against one wall of the hospital to one side. Morrell’s self-proclaimed guardian nodded, his nostrils flaring as if he were scenting the air. One ear twitched. He didn’t appear tense or worried.
Allan suddenly felt the eyes of those around them—Kara, Hernande, the healers, and the patients resting on cots—all focused on their reunion. He pulled back, hands shifting to Morrell’s shoulders, but paused in shock when he saw her face, really saw it, without the overlay of expectation. Her hair was the same soft dirty blonde, although it was longer than before, fuller somehow, but her cheeks, her jawline, the tension in the skin around her eyes . . .
Morrell was growing up. She wasn’t the waiflike child she’d been when he’d first taken her to Erenthrall, nor even the spindly adolescent transitioning toward adult. Somehow, in the last few months, the fullness of youth in her face had bled away, leaving behind the sharper angles of adulthood. He knew it couldn’t have happened that fast, that it must have been happening there in the Hollow and he’d simply been ignoring it, but now it slammed into his gut with full force. He couldn’t deny it any longer. His Morrell was an adult. A teenager, still young, but yet also an adult.
“—and that’s when I healed her hand,” Morrell gushed. “I just snipped the spindle off near her palm, and as soon as it fell out, I began sealing up the wound. But that isn’t even the most astounding thing! With Hernande’s help I’ve been practicing with the others from the University. He’s been training me. At first, I didn’t think it was helping—I couldn’t seem to do anything more than usual—but then he took me to the outer wall, and—”
“Morrell,” Allan said, trying to interrupt, but she continued, barely pausing to catch breath.
“—and I reached into the stone, I could feel it! I could sense the cracks in it, the hollows and imperfections! Then I did what all the other students have been telling me all along. I just released it all into—”
Allan shook her by the shoulders and shouted, “Morrell!” then chuckled at her shocked expression to take the sting out of it and hugged her close again. “You’re talking too fast. I haven’t followed a word you’ve said since I laid eyes on you.”
When he pulled back again, she was smiling. “I’m just so happy to see you.”
“And I’m happy to see you, poppet. Now, look at me.” He squeezed her shoulders and looked her directly in the eyes, dark, like her mother’s. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine, Da.” She sighed heavily, body slumping, as if the energy had suddenly drained out of her, but her smile didn’t fade. “Hernande had me heal the wall, and it took more out of me than I expected, that’s all. I’ll be fine by morning.” Her mouth twisted as her gaze flicked toward Hernande. “Maybe the afternoon.”
“Good. Is there anything else that I need to know right now? That can’t wait until tomorrow? I need to speak to Kara and Commander Ty about the people we brought from Erenthrall and what happened while we were there.”
Morrell let herself fall back onto the cot. He expected a mild tirade, at least some huffiness and protest that he was abandoning her again so quickly, but she merely yawned, covering her mouth with one hand while pulling the disturbed blankets up around her again.
“Nothing that can’t wait until tomorrow,” she mumbled, already sounding half asleep. “Although I think Cerrin likes me. I’m not sure. He’s acting weird.”
Allan sat back, astounded, then turned toward Kara and Hernande. “What did you do to her? And who’s Cerrin?”
“Cerrin is one of the other healers,” Hernande said. “He’s harmless. They’ll work it out.”
Allan wasn’t certain he trusted Hernande’s judgment, but he could find out more about Cerrin later. “And Morrell?”
Kara shrugged. “I haven’t spent much time with her since you left,” she admitted. “Just . . . too busy with the Nexus. And Tumbor. And Father Dalton.” She grimaced and helped Allan up from the floor. “It’s a long story.”
“I’m afraid it’s all my fault,” Hernande said as they shifted away from Morrell toward the hospital’s entrance. Allan noticed there were only two healers present; the others must have already left for the new Temerite camp across the chasm. He signaled to Drayden to keep watch over Morrell as they left, the answer coming as an acknowledging huff. “As she said, Cory and I took her under our wing after you left. She’d started healing people in the hospital on a regular basis and needed to talk. Some of the patients weren’t treating her all that well, although most of them were grateful and pleasant.”
“It only takes one or two bad individuals to discourage someone when they’re that age,” Kara said, without looking at either of them.
Hernande continued as if she hadn’t spoken. “After working with her a little while, I decided it would be best if we began training her as a student of the University, such as it is. She began coming to some of our lessons with the remaining students who survived the Shattering, and a few others we’ve picked up along the way. My fellow mentors didn’t know if we could help her or not, since we know nothing about her talents, but we thought we could offer her some guidance at least. School is more than simply learning rote lessons about the Tapestry or the ley or whatever talent you may have. It teaches you confidence and courage and other life lessons as well.”
“Dylan and I have been talking about that very idea since we helped the Temerites escape Erenthrall.”
“You mentioned that at the gates. What do you mean ‘escaped’? They didn’t come here willingly?”
They’d reached the temple, the streets of the outer city busier than usual this late at night, especially with the rain that had slowed to a drizzle now, the lightning having moved off to the east. Most of those out and about were enforcers and runners racing from the barracks and the temple on errands Allan assumed were related to the arrival of the Temerites.
They ducked into the shelter of the temple door, allowed through by a guard of six enforcers. More than had been on duty when Allan left.
“They came here willingly,” Allan said, “but only after it became clear that there would be no refuge in Erenthrall for them.” He paused, conscious of how his voice echoed in the strange corridors of the temple. “Devin has taken over what remained of Aurek’s men in Haven. He’s somehow managed to align the worst of the elements left in Erenthrall—the Rats, the Butcher to the east, a slew of other groups. They attacked the Temerite enclave while we were there, managed to take down the walls.”
“How did they do that?” Hernande asked.
Allan shook his head. “Not here. And not in the orrery. You know how I affect the globes.”
Kara had clearly forgotten how he disrupted the ley, for at the next intersection she turned right, away from the o
rrery, toward the kitchens. As soon as Allan smelled baking bread, his stomach growled.
“I’m starving for something other than dry journey bread and roasted prairie dog,” he said.
“I figured we’d meet in one of the rooms off the kitchen,” Kara said. “That way we can get you whatever you want that’s available.”
As soon as they reached the room—one wide and deep, with a long table down its center, benches on either side—Kara muttered directions to a few of the kitchen staff she caught in the hallway; one was sent running back toward the main kitchen, the other trotting off toward the outer city, her face scrunched up with whatever message she carried. All three of them settled onto the benches, the room obviously used to feed the staff and perhaps the enforcers who lived here in the temple. Within a few moments, the boy returned with a tray laden with a variety of meats, roasted vegetables, cheese, and bread. Allan grabbed a loaf of still warm rye, tore off a steaming piece, and loaded it with slices of ham. The ham was cold, fat congealed on its edges, but he didn’t care. Salty juice dribbled down his chin as he bit into it.
The boy returned with a pitcher of water and another of ale.
“Do we have any kaffe?” Allan asked.
Hernande’s eyes widened. “I didn’t realize you drank kaffe. It’s a Temerite drink.”
“I didn’t,” Allan said through another mouthful. “Not until the trek back from Erenthrall with the Matriarch and Lienta. We had much to discuss, and the Matriarch drinks nothing but kaffe. She claims it keeps her energized.”
“It contains some of the same compounds as tea leaves,” Hernande agreed, “but in a much stronger and more bitter concentration.”
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