Swallowing a curse, Marcus dodged back into the edge of the fighting, taking a hard elbow to the gut from one of the Temerites as he repositioned himself. Clutching his side, Marcus reached over another man and grabbed Marc’s shirt near his shoulder, hauling him and Hernande into the clear. Artras and Cutter followed, blood staining both of their blades and their clothes. A cut slashed Artras’ cheek, but she didn’t appear to notice.
“The node,” she said.
They ran the few feet to the doors and burst out into the bright sunlight of the stellae garden. But Marcus didn’t stop, plowing forward even though he was half blinded until he reached the black side of the Needle and the door into its inner rooms. Before heading down the stairs, he glanced back to see Cutter jam a sword through the handles of the double doors, and then all four of them, Hernande still slung over Marc’s shoulder, sprinted down the stairs.
They didn’t slow until they neared the opening that led down into the main chamber, where the black walls pulsing with white ley light gave way to stone.
Motioning Artras, Marc, and Cutter to stay back, Marcus edged forward and peered down into the pit. White ley light fountained up in the middle of the well at its center, Wielders scattered all around it, manipulating the ley and the crystals that amplified it inside. The Nexus appeared stable, the ley energetic, but not chaotic. It didn’t appear as robust as when Kara had attempted to heal the distortion over Tumbor, as if some of the ley lines that had fed it then had been diverted or had shifted elsewhere. Or perhaps it was simply a consequence of the eruption in Erenthrall, drawing energy away from this node. Shifting ley lines would have caused significant earthquakes, and they’d felt nothing since Tumbor fell.
Marcus’ attention drifted from the ley to the Wielders. He recognized all of them, including the three who were standing over the collapsed body of Iscivius near the lip of the well. Carter and Jenner appeared to be arguing with Dylan, although Marcus couldn’t pick out about what.
Carter’s gaze flicked toward Marcus, and he pulled back.
“What’s going on?” Artras whispered.
Marcus hushed her with a gesture.
They waited in silence, Marcus barely daring to breathe.
“Marcus, if that’s you, you can come down into the pit. Iscivius is unconscious, and the rest of us are either exhausted or have no intention of harming you or whoever’s with you.”
Marcus hesitated, sharing a look with Artras, Cutter, and Marc. The large guardsman merely shrugged, leaving the decision up to him.
He turned and began descending into the pit. “That’s a fairly broad statement, Jenner, especially when you have no idea why we’re here.”
“I’m hoping it’s to take control, now that Iscivius is out of the picture.”
Dylan stepped forward. “Is Kara with you?”
“No, she’s in Erenthrall.”
Marcus fought back the twinge of jealousy and hurt that twisted inside him at the raw disappointment in the Wielder’s face.
“Erenthrall!” Jenner exclaimed. “What in hells is she doing there?”
“Trying to save us all.”
The Wielders in the pit not actively controlling the Nexus looked confused. Dylan’s gaze landed on Hernande. “What happened to him?”
Artras motioned Marc toward the side of the chamber, where he let Hernande slip to the floor and stretched his back. Artras began checking the University mentor over for wounds. “He’s in some kind of self-induced trance or coma and hasn’t snapped out of it yet.”
“Self-induced? But why?”
“That’s not important right now,” Marcus cut in impatiently. “What is important is that we need to seize control of the Nexus and then hold it for at least two days—from Father Dalton, from Darius and the Kormanley, from everyone.”
“And why is that?”
“Because within the next two days, Kara’s going to need everything we’ve got if she’s going to have any chance at all of healing the ley.”
No one said anything, the Wielders in the pit all stunned. Marcus decided not to mention that it also relied on Morrell repairing the nodes destroyed in Tumbor in time and Kara actually making it to the original Nexus in Erenthrall. Or that there was no way of knowing whether either of them had succeeded.
Before anyone could ask any questions, there was a crack of splintering wood and Cutter leaped toward the stairs, followed by Marc. “They’ve broken through the doors,” Cutter shouted as he ascended.
“Wait!” Cutter and Marc halted near the entrance to the pit in consternation as Marcus spun toward Dylan. “Can you control the ley enough to flood the lower floor with it? Or at least fill the doorway? We only need to keep them out.”
“I think so.”
Marcus waved Cutter and Marc down from the stairs. They descended reluctantly, Cutter craning his neck so he could see up into the upper floor. “I can hear them in the sand outside,” he said. “They’re being cautious.” He listened, everyone in the room silent, breath held. Then he turned and trotted down the steps. “They’re entering the Needle. Whatever you’re going to do, you’d better do it now.”
“Dylan?”
“I’ve got it.”
Ley arced away from the well, a thin stream curling overhead toward the top of the stairs and out into the corridor beyond. Panicked shouts echoed down from the outer hallway, followed by the sound of a scrambled retreat.
“Without one of the mentors here to create a reservoir, the best I can do is keep up a steady flow through the corridor and out into the stellae garden,” Dylan said. His voice already shook with strain. “I’m letting the ley drain into the sands there.”
Marcus glanced toward Hernande, Artras crouched over his slumped body. She shook her head. “No signs he’s coming out of it at all.”
Marcus gripped Dylan’s shoulder. “Do what you can.”
“When he gets tired, one of the other Wielders can take over,” Jenner said. “What do you need us to do to help Kara?”
“We need to prepare to send as much of the ley to Erenthrall as possible. Sometime between now and the end of the day tomorrow, Kara’s going to need it. Now, let me see what Iscivius has done to the Nexus.”
Marcus stepped up to the edge of the pit, Jenner on one side, Artras joining him on the other. He rucked up the sleeves of his shirt, ran his hands through his hair, then dove into the ley.
“How are you doing?” Cory asked.
Mirra swallowed down another sip of water from the cup the matron held out for her with a pained grimace, then coughed. “It hurts, but I can move.” Her voice sounded like gravel being crushed underfoot.
“Good. We’re leaving.” He stood and glanced around at the rest of his five charges, all undergraduate students from the University. He briefly wondered where Hernande was, whether his own mentor was still alive, but he shoved that concern aside. “Can all of you move?” At their nods and cracked-voice responses, he continued. “I need you all to focus. We’re going to get out of the temple—out of the Needle entirely if we can—and we’re not going to be subtle. Jasom, Tara, and a few of you others were trained in using the Tapestry as a weapon in the Hollow: I know that some argued against it, Jerrain in particular, and some of us even vowed not to use it as a weapon ever again, myself included. But circumstances have changed.” He motioned toward the bodies of the guards he’d killed, that had been dragged to one side. “On my authority, you all are granted the right to use the Tapestry to get us out of here, whatever it takes.”
“Even killing someone?” Jasom asked.
“Even killing someone.”
“But what about the oath Sovaan made us swear in order for us to continue training as students?” Tara asked. “We pledged to do no harm.”
Cory closed his eyes and bowed his head, then opened them and caught Tara’s gaze. “The oath is a good oath, on
e you should take seriously, one that you shouldn’t throw away carelessly. But I doubt Sovaan, Jerrain, or even Hernande could predict the situation we’re in right now. I believe that, if they were here with us, they’d condone using the Tapestry to do whatever is necessary to escape from the Kormanley.”
Tara pressed her lips together, but gave a terse nod. She reached down to help one of the younger students up. Jasom did the same, Mirra handing the cup of water back to the matron with a hoarse thank you.
In the corridor outside, someone shouted. Footsteps charged toward the door, which Cory had barricaded with whatever stools and benches had been in the room. Someone hammered on it from the outside, the thuds sounding hollow. They tried the handle, but Cory had unleashed a tight knot inside the lock, destroying it. A curse, then more shouting and the sound of retreating feet.
“Looks like you’ve lost your opportunity,” the matron said. She motioned the rest of her own charges to her, backing up against the wall to one side. Her tone was gloating, but it held a tremor of uncertainty.
Outside, what sounded like the tread of a dozen guardsmen ground to a halt in front of the cell. They began beating on the door again. Someone had brought an ax.
Cory shifted to the center of the room, gathering the rest of the undergraduates around him.
“What are you going to do?” the matron asked. “You can’t escape now. They’re waiting for you!”
“I never intended to leave through the door.”
He held his hand out toward the wall opposite the door and released a knot in the rock itself.
The explosion sent shards of stone skittering through the room, the matron and her charges shrieking, some of the students yelping. But most of the debris was flung away into the room on the other side of the wall. Outside their door, the thudding of the ax paused, then resumed with greater vigor as part of the group broke away, their footfalls fading into the distance. Without waiting for the dust to settle, Cory stepped into the next room, glancing around briefly as the other students followed. Mirra stayed close to his side.
“I think they’re circling around,” she said.
“I know.” He picked his way through the chunks of stone to the only door, ready to blow it off its frame, but it was unlocked. He flung it open and stepped into the corridor beyond, poised to wield the Tapestry if necessary, but the hall was empty.
He motioned everyone out of the room and pointed down the hall. “Head that way, turn right at the end of the corridor.”
“What about you?” Mirra asked.
“I’ll be right behind you.”
She looked uncertain, but Tara grabbed her hand and they both trotted down the hall, the rest trailing behind. Cory urged them on, the sounds of the approaching guards already echoing down the hall. Tara and Mirra paused near the end of the corridor at a door and he swore under his breath, waving them onward, but Tara shook her head and pointed.
“What is it?” he asked when he reached them, but he could already hear someone pounding on the door.
“Cory, is that you?” a muffled voice asked. It was cracked and raw, but Cory instantly recognized Sovaan’s grating tone. His heart leaped in his chest. “Let us out!”
“Us?” he shouted, pushing Tara and Mirra out of the way. With a gesture, he ordered them to continue down the hall. “Is Jerrain in there with you?”
“Yes, yes, he’s here as well. Stop stalling.”
Cory tried the door, but it was locked. He stepped back and released a small knot in the stone to one side. Stone cracked with a dull popping noise and the door swung open, revealing Sovaan, clutching his side.
“You could have warned me,” the administrator snapped.
“I thought you were both dead. Where’s Jerrain?”
“Here, here. He’s not well.”
Cory sucked in a shocked breath when he saw the elderly mentor. He’d been frail before, spindly, but now he appeared emaciated. He shot a glance toward Sovaan and noticed that the administrator looked gaunt as well. Sovaan was leaning heavily against the wall, using it for support as he shifted closer to Jerrain’s cot.
“He didn’t react well to the recent doses of the gas,” Sovaan explained. “They’ve barely fed either of us. I’m not certain why they roused us completely out of our stupor now.”
“I’d guess because the ley wall has fallen and the Gorrani or Devin and his men have arrived and are attacking the wall. That’s the only reason they kept us alive to begin with.”
Sovaan coughed, the sound ragged. “That makes sense.” He motioned toward Jerrain. “I haven’t been able to wake him since this morning.”
Cory stood, Tara suddenly appearing in the door.
“They’re coming!”
“Tara, help Sovaan.” He reached out and picked Jerrain’s body up carefully into his arms. He hefted him off the cot, shocked by how light he felt. He spun and found the room empty, Tara and Sovaan gone, then hustled to the door, Jerrain slack in his arms but still breathing.
As soon as he stepped out into the hallway, someone shouted, “There they are!”
Without thought, anger surging through his body, he released a large knot in the center of the floor halfway down the hall. The explosion shook the entire corridor, gouts of stone rocketing up from below, tearing into the ceiling. The side walls cracked and rock began to cascade down into the corridor. A slew of Kormanley guards—at least ten that Cory could see—shouted and cursed as they fell back. Those in the front screamed as they were caught in the rock fall.
Dust billowed toward them, and Cory turned away from it to find Tara staring at him from the corner, Sovaan beside her. The administrator’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, but not in disapproval. His gaze was locked on the collapsing stone.
Then it shifted toward Cory. He gave a slight nod and asked, “Where should we go from here?”
It took a moment for Cory to realize Sovaan was ceding control to him, but then he shifted Jerrain into a slightly less awkward position and said, “To the outer walls.”
Twenty-Two
“WHAT IS IT?” Grant asked.
Kara stepped forward into the storage room and ran her hands over the supple material. It had been discarded in a heap atop a crate with straw jutting out of the sides, what looked like spars thrown on top. As the material shifted beneath her hand, it shimmered.
“It’s a sail,” she said, her mind already racing.
“A sail for what?” Allan demanded from her right shoulder.
“One of the ley barges.” Kara faced Cason, the Tunneler leader standing in the doorway to the room, arms crossed. “Where’s the barge?”
“Outside. It’s mostly intact.”
“Mostly?”
“There’s a hole in one side of the hull. My guess is that it crashed before the Shattering and the lord or lady who owned it didn’t want it anymore. They wouldn’t want to appear to have damaged goods. So they donated it to the University. But a hole shouldn’t affect its flight.”
Grant rumbled. “How will this help us?”
“If we can get it rigged up, if I can channel the ley appropriately”—Kara drew in a steadying breath—“then we can fly over the Gorrani outside, straight to the Nexus.”
Both Grant and Allan shifted uncomfortably, sharing a look. Allan leaned in to whisper, “Don’t forget how the ley reacts to my presence. I’ve been on a ley barge before. It nearly fell out of the sky because of me.”
“We’ll work something out.”
Cason coughed to catch their attention. “Will this work? Will it get you to the Nexus?”
Kara hesitated. “Let me see the barge.”
They followed Cason, Sorelle, and Jaimes out of the storage area through a slew of corridors and hallways, emerging into blinding sunlight punctuated by the fierce white geyser of ley to the east. Kara shaded her eyes and blinked
as they rounded the University building and halted next to what had once been a training yard. Everything on the University grounds had changed so much since the Shattering that she barely recognized it from her time here working with Hernande and Cory with the sands.
The barge took up most of one side of the yard, the beams along one side stove in. There was little damage elsewhere. It appeared as if someone had simply run the barge into the corner of a building, like a water barge hitting a submerged rock. Splintered wood jutted both inside the hull and out, a few chunks dangling at odd angles.
“I don’t remember this barge being here after the Shattering,” Allan said as they approached.
“It couldn’t have been. It would have been annihilated when the ley from the explosion passed over the University.”
Sorelle answered, her voice tense and angry. “It wasn’t in the yard. We found it inside one of the other storage rooms and moved it out here to make room for our wounded. It took nearly twenty of us to get it out.”
Cason cut her off with a gesture. “Can you use it?” she repeated.
“If I can figure out how the sails were rigged to the hull.”
“Sorelle and Jaimes will help you figure that out. She lived near the docks before the Shattering and knows a little about ships.” Sorelle began to protest, but Cason overrode her, raising her voice as she continued. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough to seal the trade?”
Kara looked to Allan, who shrugged, and Grant, whose lips twitched into an anxious half snarl.
She scanned the barge once again. “It’s enough.”
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