The snap of cloth drew his attention upward, where the second tier—never before used—was getting similar treatment. He scanned all the enforcers and guardsmen he could see, hoping to spot Cutter or someone else he knew and trusted, but saw no one. He bit back a curse.
He was running out of time.
At his side, Armone scanned as well, but for a wholly different purpose. “Darius says the package will be small, no larger than a standard satchel, but it’s more effective in a confined space. You’ll need to hide it behind or beneath something, preferably something solid that will crack or shatter or burn and cause more confusion and damage.”
“I don’t see many options here on the tier. It’s flat and open.”
“I agree. Are you certain you’ll be posted here during the Wielders’ attempt?”
“That’s what I’ve been told.”
“Then it will have to be placed here somewhere.”
“Why?” At Armone’s look, he shrugged. “Anyone of consequence, such as Ty or the Temerites, will be up on the second tier, where the view of the distortion is better. The only people down here will be citizens. Why place anything here at all?”
“Because it will cause more panic, more chaos.” Armone’s gaze hardened. “You aren’t wavering, are you? I gave Darius my word about you.”
“I’m not wavering.”
“Good.” Armone turned back to the tier. They’d wandered from one edge of the mosaic to the other and now walked back, as if on patrol. The servants paid them no attention. “Remember that it will be packed with people during the attempt, so it won’t be this open. You could simply drop the satchel in the center of the crowd and walk away. That worked well in Erenthrall.”
Marc’s stomach turned, an image of the butchered stockade village near Tumbor flashing across his mind.
He needed to warn Cutter or Ty. But Armone or one of the other Kormanley enforcers had been in constant contact with him, if not actively working with him like Armone now, always within sight in the barracks or on the wall. The twin Javers had even followed him to the taverns the night before, although Marc didn’t think Javers knew he’d been noticed. And he couldn’t trust any of his fellow enforcers. He didn’t know who else besides those he’d seen at the last meeting were with the Kormanley, but he knew there were others.
He hadn’t been worried until today.
“I’ll do that if necessary,” he said, “but hopefully another opportunity will present itself.”
Armone considered him a moment, then slapped him on the back and grinned—the easy, carefree grin he usually wore that set people at ease and hid the danger beneath. “Trust me, it always does.”
“How many packages are there anyway?”
“Enough to take back the Needle and free Father.”
They’d reached the stairs leading down from the tier and began to descend. Marc flung a last look back and cursed beneath his breath.
Where in hells was Cutter?
“Now, Cory, hold the reservoir.” Hernande turned to Kara without waiting for a response. “Start siphoning ley from the node into the reservoir.”
“Are you certain this is going to work?”
“Of course not, but I don’t see any reason it won’t work.”
“It’s just . . . the reservoir is here, inside the node. If it doesn’t hold the ley, or if Cory loses control, it could drop the ley onto all of us.”
Behind Kara, Hernande noticed Okata, Jenner, and the rest of the Wielders glancing toward the ceiling, where the reservoir Cory had created hovered, although they couldn’t see anything there. The folds of Tapestry were only visible when they were filled with ley.
A few of the Wielders backed off a step or two.
“It won’t drop onto us. I’m here as a failsafe, ready to intervene if it appears Cory can’t handle it. But our theory is that the ley will cause little to no strain on us, unlike holding up, say, a person or something else more physically solid.”
“But that’s only a theory. We haven’t tested it yet.”
“We’re testing it now.”
Kara mumbled something under her breath that Hernande couldn’t quite catch, but she turned to her Wielders. “Okata, you can sense the reservoir?”
“And the channel leading to it.”
“Then I’ll let you control the flow. Start off slow, see how the reservoir reacts. Everyone else, keep your eye on the crystal panes. We don’t expect them to react, but I’m not certain of any of this. Be prepared for anything.”
The Wielders shifted into position around the pit of the node, most of them focusing on the panes and the ley that fountained up from below. Okata drifted closer to Cory, his Gorrani visage concentrating on the air overhead, where Hernande could see the folds Cory had used to create a narrow conduit from the ley pit to a much larger circular construct that resembled the basin of a fountain. He raised his arms and closed his eyes and a moment later a plume of ley arched up from the pit and spilled down onto the conduit. Some of it splashed over the sides, the plume too large for the conduit to hold, but most of it began coursing down the conduit toward the basin. Within moments, the bottom of the reservoir had been filled, its contours now clearly visible.
Kara took a step forward. “Can you hold it, Cory?”
“I’m fine. As we suspected, the ley feels almost weightless. It’s nothing like when we were holding up sand during our practice sessions.”
“Then increase the flow, Okata. Let’s see how much we can hold in this reservoir, and see how easy it is to siphon off again, before we get too excited. Let Okata know the moment you think there’s too much ley, Cory.”
Cory waved a hand in irritation. A moment later, the plume of ley increased in strength under Okata’s administrations, although it narrowed so that there was no spillage as it hit the conduit. Looking at the configuration now, Hernande thought they could dispense with the conduit completely and simply pour the ley directly into the reservoir, but at the time they hadn’t known how this would work. Or even if.
He found himself stroking his beard, but halted when Kara turned to him.
“You have that look, Hernande.”
His eyebrows rose. “What look?”
“That smug look, as if you’ve just discovered fire.”
“Ah, I see. Well, there’s been a small bone of contention between myself, Jerrain, and Sovaan about the relationship between the ley and the Tapestry. What Cory experienced here today confirms that the theory proposed by Jerrain and myself is valid, while Sovaan’s is not.”
“And what theory is that?”
Around them, the node had grown appreciably brighter as more and more ley filled the reservoir. It was now a rather large pool of white light floating in midair, perhaps ten feet deep with a radius of twenty feet. Cory had expanded the basin’s size to accommodate more of the ley.
“Jerrain and I have proposed that the ley and the Tapestry are linked, that in fact the Tapestry relies on the ley for its existence. We believe that the natural ley lines that thread their way around and through the land are in fact the foundations of reality, a skeletal structure upon which the Tapestry—reality—has been hung. When the nodes in Erenthrall were captured within the distortion, it severed many of the supports of this foundation, which sent shudders through reality. These manifested as quakes. Enough ley lines remained that the Tapestry could still sustain itself, but it had been strained by the lack of support. When the distortion quickened over Tumbor, cutting off even more supports, a ripple emanated through reality. All of us mentors and some of our students felt it in the Hollow. Unlike the quakes, which were localized along the ley lines, this ripple coursed through the entire system—both the ley lines and the Tapestry. It was as if someone had grabbed reality and given it a good shake, like snapping a rug to rid it of dust and dirt.”
“And how does what
Cory’s doing here prove your theory?”
“Oh, it doesn’t prove anything. But it does support it. In order for our theory to be correct, a necessary condition is that the Tapestry and the ley be . . . compatible. The ley being nearly weightless when supported by the Tapestry, and vice versa, indicates they are compatible at some fundamental level. Of course, this was suggested by how the mentors used the Tapestry to channel the ley for the Wielders in Erenthrall.”
“It would be helpful if you knew how to fix these reservoirs into position without having a mentor holding it up.”
“Yes, well, we haven’t quite worked that out yet.”
Kara was silent for a moment. Then: “If what you’re saying is true, then when Prime Wielder Augustus created the Nexus in Erenthrall and shifted the nearest ley lines to that central location—”
“He was manipulating the foundations of reality. I doubt he realized it at the time, perhaps not even at the end. I’d guess that nothing came of his manipulations because he merely shifted existing ley lines slightly off course, from natural nodes in Erenthrall to his Nexus.”
“Except something did come of it.” Kara’s voice had hardened. “His actions caused the blackouts and distortions in Erenthrall, if not the Shattering itself.”
“Yes. The strain on the Tapestry for such minor shifts would have been subtle and obviously didn’t start becoming apparent until the blackouts and distortions began. Augustus most likely never realized there was a connection between the ley and the Tapestry, which is why he could never determine what was causing the blackouts or distortions. The damage was being done to the Tapestry, even if the root cause was the shifts in the ley. Only the mentors from the University would have been able to identify the problem, and the rivalry between the Wielders and the University would have kept Augustus from seeking our help.”
“His own need for complete control of the ley would have done that, even without the rivalry.”
“I suppose. He was an arrogant bastard.”
Before them, Cory suddenly waved a hand toward Okata. “That’s enough. I can’t expand the reservoir any further in here.”
The plume of ley suddenly halted, dropping back down into the pit. Kara broke away, calling out to the other Wielders, confirming that the crystal panes hadn’t shifted at all during the transference. Hernande stepped up to Cory’s side, eyes raised to the white light hovering overhead. He inspected the folds of Tapestry holding it aloft unobtrusively, noting that if he stretched, he might be able to touch the bottom of the reservoir. Cory and Okata had nearly filled the entire pit with it.
“How much strain are you under?” he asked as he walked in a wide circle around the reservoir’s edge.
“It’s negligible, although I think the longer it needs to be held, the harder holding the reservoir will become, sort of like holding a weight with an outstretched arm at shoulder height. At first, it’s easy, but the longer you hold it, the weaker your arm muscles become. They burn out.”
He locked eyes with Cory, noted a small bead of sweat near Cory’s temple. “How long do you think you can hold something like this?”
“Hours, perhaps even a day if necessary.”
“Don’t forget, this reservoir is small, merely a test run. For our attempt at healing the distortion, we’ll need multiple reservoirs at least three times this size.”
“We’re ready to attempt siphoning the ley from the reservoir.”
Both Cory and Hernande turned toward Kara. “Then go ahead and start,” Cory said.
Kara glanced upward, Okata doing the same on the far side of the reservoir and conduit. Ley began streaming back toward the ley pit, much faster than it had left, and much more tightly controlled with Kara’s help. Instead of a plume, it shot outward and down, straight and true, like the ley lines in Erenthrall. In less than half the time it had taken to fill, the reservoir lay empty.
“Congratulations,” Kara said as the Wielders behind her relaxed into grins, a few patting each other on the back. “We may be able to heal Tumbor tomorrow after all.”
Twelve
MARC STOOD TO ONE SIDE of the main door leading into the temple on the first tier. It was midmorning, clouds scudding across the sky overhead providing some scattered partial shade, but otherwise already hot. He wiped sweat from his forehead, thankful for the breeze that snapped in the banners strewn in intervals around the temple’s edge. The tier was already crowded, people from the city below milling about, jostling for the best view of the distortion over Tumbor in the distance, conversations and laughter roiling all around. Marc could see the distortion’s apex over the people’s heads, hazy with distance, although its orange-pink-purple colors were still vibrant. He was certain, with the heat, that its base would be a shimmer of heat waves.
But his attention was focused on the stairs, where people were still ascending, even though there couldn’t possibly be much room left on this tier. He searched for Cutter or Ty, knowing at least Ty would be up on the second tier, but he still hadn’t seen either of them. This would be his last chance to warn them of the Kormanley’s intent, perhaps his only chance, since he was supposed to plant the package himself and then leave discreetly before it exploded. He didn’t know how Armone and the others planned on timing the explosions so they occurred at the same time, and he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was warn everyone before it happened, and today would be the first day he’d be left alone.
On the stairs, a contingent of the new Temerites arrived, escorting their Matriarch up to the second tier. Her guards were vigilant, the captain leading the way, two others pulling the Matriarch’s wheeled chair up one step at a time. Behind her, the ex-Dog Allan and his daughter were unobtrusively keeping her chair stable while conversing with her. Marc took an involuntary step toward Allan, thinking to warn him instead, but he was surrounded by the Temerite guard. They’d never let him in close enough to speak to him, not without drawing attention.
He stepped back beside the door and a hand clapped down onto his shoulder.
His blade was half drawn before Armone said, “Marc, where were you headed, my boy?”
The Kormanley guardsman slipped up to Marc’s side, eyes on the Matriarch and her entourage as they continued their ascent to the second tier. He didn’t drop his hand from Marc’s shoulder, and he had a satchel slung across his chest.
“Nowhere,” Marc said, surprised his voice held steady. The center of his back had prickled with nervous sweat. “For a moment, it looked like the old woman’s chair was going to slip.”
“Now that would be unfortunate, wouldn’t it? Especially since we have something special planned for her and her Temerite guards.”
Marc shrugged out from beneath Armone’s arm. “Is that the package?”
Suspicion flickered across Armone’s face, but he grinned and patted the satchel. “The very one.”
“What do I have to do, besides place it?”
“Nothing. In fact, it turns out you don’t even need to place it yourself. I managed to fit my package into a niche where no one will find it, which means I can stay here with you. Once we get the signal from the main gates, I’ll pull the fuse and drop it. Then we’d better run like hell, because it’s set to explode within ten breaths, maybe less. It’s hard to be precise with these things.”
For a moment, Marc couldn’t breathe. He’d intended to hunt Cutter or Ty down the moment Armone left him alone with the package. Now . . .
“You’re saying you don’t need me?”
“Oh, we’ll need you afterward, for when the real fighting begins. The packages are only to cause confusion. We’ll have to take the enforcers still loyal to Ty and secure the temple after that.”
“Then perhaps I should find a better location, to help with that. Maybe the commander’s barracks in the temple or one of the temple doorways.” Marc had half turned toward the entrance into the temple when Armone s
nagged his arm.
“I don’t think so.” The words were hard as crystal, even though Armone’s grin hadn’t faltered. “Darius has the barracks covered, as well as the main gates and entrances and Father’s chambers. Everything’s in place. You’re needed here, in case something goes wrong on one of the tiers.”
Marc considered breaking free and charging into the temple, but Armone’s grip was tight, enough to cut off the circulation. His forearm was already tingling. He forced himself to relax and shrug. “All right, if you’re certain I won’t be needed elsewhere.”
Armone hesitated a moment, then let him go. “Where were you planning on setting the package?”
“I thought I’d place it in the center of the sun emblem in the mosaic. I thought it somehow fitting. Plus, it should target the largest number of people.”
“I don’t see anything better. Let’s head over there.”
Armone gave him a nudge, indicating he should take the lead. With a last glance back toward the stairs on the outside of the temple, Marc began pushing through the throng toward the center of the mosaic, Armone on his heels. As he moved, he released the clasp on the small knife at his side.
“When does this attempt to heal the distortion start?” he asked.
“I heard around noon,” Armone answered. “Our own little distraction should start soon after that.”
Marc glanced toward the sun overhead. A little over an hour left. He swore silently to himself.
A sudden murmur ran through the crowd, someone shouting, “Look! Over the chasm!”
Everyone’s attention shifted from the distortion to the southeast toward the west. Most of the chasm that had divided the city was obscured by the temple itself, but above what could be seen, a large pool of ley had begun to form. It appeared to be hovering in midair. Shifting to the right, Marc could see a large geyser of ley rising out of the chasm, splashing down into one edge of the growing pool. The excitement of those around them escalated, the level of conversation increasing. Someone at the far end of this side of the temple, near the corner, shouted, “There’s another pool forming on the other side!”
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