Reaping the Aurora

by Joshua Palmatier

  Kara glanced between the two, then settled back down. She couldn’t deny her exhaustion. “We’ll rest for tonight. But tomorrow we need to find a way past the Haessan. Don’t forget that we still have to make it through the ley as well.”

  Allan’s gaze dropped to his hands, palms up in his lap. “I haven’t forgotten.”

  Grant grumbled something, and the Wolf jumped to its feet and padded out into the deepening night without a sound. “We should stay here,” Grant said after she left, “in case the leather is hiding our scent. Perhaps there are rooms upstairs.”

  The second floor had obviously been the cobbler’s home, divided up into a kitchen area, a workroom, and two bedrooms. Shoe forms filled the workroom, but someone had stripped it of all leather but some scraps. The kitchen was bare, some plates and cups still in the cupboards, a few broken on the floor. But there were still beds in both bedrooms, one large one in the first, two smaller ones for children in the second. It reminded Kara forcibly of the apartment she and her parents had had before the Kormanley bombing in Seeley Park had taken their lives and Ischua had taken her to the Wielder’s college, except their apartment had been filled with clocks.

  Grant and Allan traded looks, then took over the children’s room, leaving Kara the large bed. She tossed her pack to the floor and crawled onto the bed, the straw-stuffed mattress having long dried out completely. It reeked of dust and hay and had settled into a hard, flat surface, but she didn’t care. She sneezed as she set her head on her hands as a pillow and closed her eyes.

  But her heart still thrummed from the horror of seeing the twisted Haessan. She couldn’t sleep. She rolled onto her back, the mattress crackling as she did so, and stared up into the darkness at the ceiling. Thoughts of Cory flashed through her head, her hands clenching into fists, but she forced herself to set that worry aside. Instead, she cycled through their plans to heal the ley network: Morrell in Tumbor, Marcus at the Needle, and her here. If any one of them failed . . .

  The terrifying grinding sound that had roared over them a few days before echoed in her mind. She knew in her gut that it was a consequence of the destroyed nodes and the loosening of reality. Whatever had caused that noise would continue, would likely grow worse.

  Which meant they had to get to the Nexus. But how could they get past the Haessan? They held the bridges over the river, at least those closest. Maybe they could travel farther upriver, cross there, then return. But did they have time?

  She tossed onto her side. There had to be another way.

  At some point she fell asleep, deep enough that when she woke again she couldn’t remember dreaming. But she bolted upright and then sprang for the door, where she found Grant and Allan already awake, seated at the table in the kitchen, one of the Wolves at their feet. Both of them looked up from their conversation.

  “I know how we can get past the Haessan.”

  Allan sat back. “We were just discussing that. The Haessan have surrounded the geyser on all sides. They appear to be worshipping it. Grant doesn’t see how we’ll be able to get past them.”

  Kara stepped forward and tapped the table with one finger. “We go beneath them. We use the ley tunnels, like the Tunnelers did.”

  Dead silence.

  Then Allan leaned forward. “What about the ley?”

  “Not all of the lines will be flooded. Remember, some of them had been blocked—by us, by the White Cloaks before us. Besides, if we run into a line that is flooded, we can still pass through it. We have you. It’s how we planned on getting to the Nexus to begin with.”

  Allan scrubbed at his face with both hands. “We’d have to leave the horses behind.”

  “But it would get us across the river,” Grant rumbled. “The tunnels run beneath it.”

  Allan tilted his chair onto its two back legs, balancing as he thought.

  Kara leaned onto the table, both palms flat. “The tunnels might even take us all the way to the Nexus itself.”

  Allan stared at her, then swore. He let the chair fall back onto four legs. “Where’s the nearest node?”

  Two hours later, they were descending the spiral stairs of the pit in Candle, the horses let loose near the leather shop, the Wolves scouting out the pit and tunnels below, noses in the air. There were three tunnels, all of them free of ley, like the pit itself. Kara reached out on all three, then selected the one heading north. “This one goes beneath the river.”

  Allan stepped forward, torch held high, one of the Wolves slipping out ahead of him. The ex-Dog scanned the tunnel ahead, then turned to her. “I vowed not to come down here ever again, after the last time.”

  “Do you have a better option?”

  Behind them, Grant chuckled, a deeply disturbing sound as it echoed in the pit.

  Allan motioned with the torch. “After you.”

  “Father! Commander! The Gorrani are arriving.”

  Dalton glanced back from his inspection of the secondary gate that had been destroyed by ley as Marcus and the others escaped. The gaping hole where the gate had been was now a wall of solid rock, albeit hastily patched and mortared. He couldn’t help but compare it to the wall that had been breached by the Hollowers when they came to rescue their Wielder, Kara. That wall now looked more solid than those around it, as if the granite used to repair it had somehow been fused together. He’d been told it was the work of Allan Garrett’s daughter, a report substantiated by the rumors floating around the city.

  This wall looked as if it would collapse if someone simply came and knocked on it.

  As if sensing his assessment, Darius said, “At least it’s been sealed.”

  “This is the best the masons could do?”

  “So they say, given the time constraint and what they had to work with.”

  Through his vision, Dalton received an image of the wall crumbled, shattered stone littering the ground beneath it. “It will not hold long. It will be one of the first breaches in our defenses as soon as the ley wall collapses.”

  Both looked up at the white flames of ley towering above them. The men manning the gate towers kept well back from the edges, most of them pacing nervously or trying to ignore the danger that burned a few feet from their position. Dalton would have ordered them off the wall if Iscivius could have convinced him the ley would hold, but he couldn’t risk it.

  He turned his back on the old gates and headed toward the temple. “To the Needle.” It was the only place within the city where they could see beyond the ley wall.

  Darius and the lieutenant who’d delivered the news fell in behind him.

  They reached the temple and its inner stellae garden in short order. Dalton paused within the entrance to the Needle itself, the smooth pitch-black walls veined with pulsing ley. He wanted to go down to check in on Iscivius, but he’d already pestered the Wielder repeatedly since the ley wall went up. The last time, Iscivius had snapped at him. The toll of keeping the wall in place had begun to show through, Iscivius’ face lined with tension, his eyes somehow hollow. He didn’t need to disturb him, especially now.

  Instead, he ascended the stairs to the right, his escort trailing behind him. They spiraled up around the center of the tower, windows occasionally looking out upon the temple and the city beyond.

  When they’d climbed high enough to see beyond the ley wall and found a window facing the south, he halted. Darius joined him, motioning the others back.

  “They’ve halted at the rim of the crater,” Darius said, stepping closer to the window and removing a spyglass from a pocket. “Perhaps the ley will convince them to turn back.”

  “No. Their scouts would have told them of it long before this.” Dalton shifted forward. A warm wind gusted into his face, sending the sleeves of his robes fluttering, but he merely squinted into the distance. “What do you see?”

  “A grouping of ten Gorrani warriors at the lip of the crat
er. They appear to be discussing something. I can see their banners behind them, but not their men. It looks like all of the sects are represented. Now they’re arguing. Their leader has just cut them all off. He’s motioning to both sides with his arms. Half of the group has disappeared over the rim.” Darius paused, then added, “The banners have moved beyond sight.”

  Dalton lowered his head and closed his eyes, tried to pull at the fabric of his sight, to suss out what the Gorrani would do. Would they attack, regardless of the ley wall? Would they retreat, as Darius suggested? He didn’t believe that. He couldn’t see how an attack would represent any threat to the temple or the city, as long as the ley wall remained standing.

  His sight remained unchanged. Not even a flash of insight as he’d seen at the gates.

  “Something’s happening.” Darius tensed, straining forward with the spyglass. “Gods, there are so many of them.”

  Dalton’s eyes snapped open. In the distance, spread out in a long line, the Gorrani suddenly emerged from behind the crater’s rim. They stretched to either side, far enough that Dalton was forced to lean out of the window to see either edge. Multicolored banners snapped in the gusts, the warriors themselves dressed in armor that matched their sect’s colors. Sunlight glinted on hilts and bracers, although most of the Gorrani armor was hardened leather, leaving their arms and legs exposed. The men at the center were mounted, seated higher than the rest.

  Drums suddenly echoed across the dry plains. Within moments, a contingent of a hundred men appeared from behind the line along the crater and charged on horseback down toward the Needle and its walls, the men screaming an incoherent battle cry. A chant began, the warriors along the crater suddenly drawing their swords and pointing them toward the heavens. Those on horseback continued straight toward the ley wall, a plume of dust rising behind them. Apprehension seized Dalton’s chest, but he remained where he stood, his grip tightening on the edges of the window.

  “What do they intend to do?” Darius asked. “Charge straight into the ley? They must know what happened last time.”

  The charge didn’t falter. The group fell from sight, hidden by the ley wall.

  Darius lowered the spyglass and spun toward the lieutenant who’d brought them here. “Go to the walls. Tell the lieutenant commanders to ready—”

  “Wait.” Dalton touched Darius’ arm. “Look.”

  Below, the plume of dust had shifted direction, cutting left along the edge of the wall. As soon as it did, the sound of the drums changed and all of the Gorrani along the lip of the crater stepped forward, marching toward the Needle. Their ranks were five deep, but behind them came camels and horse-driven carts and more Gorrani, although these were not dressed in armor. The group of one hundred hidden by the ley wall changed direction again, angling back out toward their own ranks. They reappeared, their muted battle cries echoing up from the plains, mingling oddly with the chant. Beneath the drums, the tread of thousands of feet marching in rhythm provided a counterbeat.

  Then the chanting and the drums halted, as if cut short by a knife. The warriors on foot stopped where they stood, holding position, along with the support forces behind them. Only the hundred on horseback still moved, although their battle cry had ended.

  Once the hundred rejoined their forces, the Gorrani shouted a single word in their own language at the Needle, punctuated by a sword thrust into the air. They did this three times, the same word, and then suddenly their carefully arranged ranks broke. Those behind began unloading their carts and erecting tents. The warriors split into groups by sect, the leaders who’d remained at the front rejoining their men.

  “They’re making camp,” Darius said with a hint of derision. “Settling in. It was all for show.”

  “How many men do they have?”

  Darius brought the spyglass back up, scanned the forces, his lips moving without sound as he counted. “I’d say three thousand warriors, with maybe twice that many in their supply train.”

  “Nearly twice what they brought before.”

  “I see women and children in the supply train, helping out.” Darius lowered the spyglass. “This may be all the Gorrani that remain.”

  Dalton stared out at the warriors and their support, smaller tents already erected, larger ones going up behind them. Could this be all the Gorrani left in the Flats? He’d heard there were hundreds of tribes, but he knew that the Gorrani were not numerous, even before the Shattering. They kept to themselves, did not build cities, living in groupings of rock that jutted up from the Flats called cenotan, where water collected in pools. Trade was done at specific locations on the edges of the Flats. Few non-Gorrani were allowed into the Flats to see the cenotans.

  So it was possible these were the last of the Gorrani. It would explain why they’d become so vicious. They were desperate.

  “They’re obviously not going to attack with the ley wall in place,” he said. “Keep the men on the walls ready, just in case.”

  He turned from the window and headed for the stairs again.

  “Should we wake the mages?”

  He paused, considering, then shook his head. “Leave them. Unless the ley wall falls.”

  Darius began issuing orders behind him as they descended. They were halfway down the tower when Dalton glanced out the window to one side and caught movement in the Temerite section. He stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Darius! The Temerites—they’re doing something on the edge of the chasm!”

  His commander came up behind him to see, leaning out of the window, but then the tension in his shoulders relaxed and he drew back inside.

  “They’re fortifying their edge of the chasm wall, that’s all. They’ve been working on it for the past few weeks. We’ve been keeping a careful eye on them, but they haven’t done anything more than reinforce walls, build up a few barricades, and shift the few ballistae and catapults they have. It’s nothing.”

  As Darius motioned to his men to continue down the stairs, Dalton squinted at the Temerite watchmen on the roofs of the buildings below. For a moment, his odd vision flickered and he thought he saw watchmen racing across the depths of the chasm, but there was no bridge.

  He closed his eyes and rubbed at his temples, a minor headache forming, then looked again, but there was nothing except watchmen repositioning a ballista while others hauled stone to the roof to build up its edge for protection. Nothing he saw hinted at an attempt to build a bridge, and the chasm was too wide to simply throw down any kind of wooden construct. It would never have the proper support and would snap in the middle.

  Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling they were up to something.

  After watching for another five minutes, he finally stepped away, making a note to have a watch set on them in the future. For now, the Gorrani arrival was more worrisome.

  “It’s no use,” Allan said, stumbling back from the ley line that blocked their path. “The ley current here is too strong. If I try to step farther out into the tunnel, it’s going to knock me off balance, just like a strong current in a river. I’d be washed away.”

  Kara swore, viciously, Grant raising an eyebrow in surprise from where he stood with the three Wolves behind them.

  They’d traveled the ley tunnels for what Kara felt was at least a day already, although it was hard to tell since they’d remained underground. During that time, they’d encountered tunnels filled with the ley, but they’d been able to pass through them, Kara, Grant, and the Wolves huddling close to Allan, everyone moving mostly in sync, slowly and carefully, making certain they remained in the bubble of protection that surrounded the ex-Dog. They’d discovered that the bubble changed size depending on the strength of the ley—the stronger the ley, the smaller the radius of protection. The tunnels were a maze of twists and turns, but they’d passed from junction to node to barge station, crossing beneath the river and into the section near Grass on the far side.<
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  But now they’d run into a junction completely filled with the ley where the current was too strong. If Allan were shoved off balance and swept away, he’d take his protection with him, leaving Kara, Grant, and the Wolves to burn in the ley itself.

  Kara turned away from them both and leaned forward into her hands in frustration, pressing them into the smoothed surface of the river stones that had been used to construct this part of the ley network. The fact that they were river stones told her they were in one of the oldest parts of the system. They had to be close to Grass.

  She shoved back from the wall. “Then we’ll have to find another tunnel, one where the ley isn’t flowing at all, or at a lower strength.”

  Allan and Grant shared a look.

  “The strength of the ley lines has been increasing the closer we get to the old Nexus, where the geyser is,” Grant said. “What if there isn’t another approach underground?”

  “There has to be,” Kara snapped and stalked away from both of them, down the tunnel they’d traversed to get there. The last junction wasn’t that far back, and there’d been other tunnel options. They’d only chosen this one because it angled toward Grass.

  At the junction, she chose another tunnel, two levels down. They descended the side of the pit, from ledge to ledge, using insets that had obviously been constructed as a ladder. But the new tunnel ended at another junction with only tunnels leading away from where Kara could feel the geyser, so they returned and chose another. It ended in a wall of ley like the first, the current even faster here than before.

  “The tunnel’s narrower,” Allan said. “The force has to be stronger to push the ley through.”

  Kara didn’t care. They needed to get to the Nexus. She’d thought the ley tunnels were the perfect solution.

  “Now what?” Grant growled. His ear twitched with his own frustration.

  “We go back to the junction. There was one more tunnel. It doesn’t head straight toward Grass, but maybe it will take us somewhere with more options.”