Kara’s eyebrows rose. “You’re not even fifteen, Cory. But no, it isn’t anything like what you and Brent and the others imagined in the schoolyard. It’s more gruntwork than mystical attacks and fake sorcery.”
Cory grinned, the boy Kara remembered emerging beneath the dirty-blond hair and weariness. “But it was so much fun!”
Kara rolled her eyes. “In any case, that’s not why I found you. I saw him, Cory. I saw Justin!”
Cory stilled, his entire body rigid. The sloppy smile dropped away in a blink, his expression hard and hurt. He turned back to his ale, drinking slowly while staring off into the distance. “That isn’t funny, Kara.”
“I’m not joking. I saw him. In Eld. I was coming out of a tavern like this one with Marcus and he was right there. He saw me, I know he did. He recognized me. But then he ran. I tried to follow him, but he vanished.”
Cory’s jaw clenched. “Who’s Marcus?”
Suddenly, the awkward tension from that last night on the roof of their apartment building returned and Kara found herself fidgeting on her stool, heat creeping up her neck. “He’s my assigned partner at the node. He’s helping me get used to being a Wielder.” She waved a hand in irritation. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is that Justin is alive! We need to find him. We need to find his parents and let them know—”
“If it were Justin,” Cory snapped, turning on her, “why did he run away? Why didn’t he say anything to you? Justin would have said something. If he were in trouble, he would have asked for help.” He shook his head. “You’re wrong, Kara. It couldn’t have been Justin. He would have said something!”
Kara stared into Cory’s eyes, stunned by the outburst. Anger lined his face, but beneath that anger she could see tears. He trembled with the effort to hold them back.
“Why would you bring this back up?” he whispered, his voice cracked and broken. “I thought we’d left it all behind us.”
Before she could respond, he shoved away from the table, so hard he nearly knocked his stool over. And then he was gone.
Twelve
WHEN THE HOUND didn’t return before midnight the next day, Allan settled in for a long night. He tried to sleep, but found himself staring up at the stone ceiling of one of the cells thinking of Moira and Morrell. The stewards in the Amber Tower were working its servants hard in preparation for the Baronial Meeting, so they hadn’t seen each other much in the past few days.
He grimaced and shifted his thoughts to Morrell, drawing up an image of her tiny face, snuggled in her cradle. One pudgy hand was fisted by the corner of her mouth, her face serene, eyes closed. Drool created a dark spot in the bunched-up blanket near her head.
“Maybe we shouldn’t stay in Erenthrall,” he whispered to himself in the darkness. “I wonder what Moira would say about that?”
Except he knew. Moira had lived her entire life in Erenthrall, in its sprawling districts with its connection to the ley and all of the luxuries that brought. She could never live in a place like Canter, his hometown. It would be too quaint, too rustic for her tastes. Not to mention the lack of ley and its amenities. Living with a fire for cooking and heat had been thrilling for her . . . but only because she could find everything else she needed in Hedge within a short walk. In the end, she couldn’t envision living without the ley permanently, not like she’d have to do in Canter, or any of the other outlying towns in the Baronies.
He sighed, rolled over, and tried to force himself to sleep.
A moment later, Hagger crashed through the cell door and bellowed. “The Hound’s back! Get your ass out of bed, Pup. Are you a Dog or not?”
Allan lurched up from the cot, glanced beyond Hagger to where a few of the other Dogs were hanging back, all of them older, like Hagger, and all of them vicious with their arrests and interrogations. A cold frisson of fear ran through him as he caught the danger hidden behind the seemingly innocuous question.
He met Hagger’s gaze, straightened and moved to stand before him at the door. “I’m a Dog,” he announced, loud enough all could hear.
A few of the men behind sneered. Hagger merely glared.
“The Hound found Ibsen,” Hagger said. “He’s ready to lead us to him right now.” He motioned to the men behind him, who all came to attention.
“Where—” Allan began, but then he caught sight of the Hound off to one side, although standing in the open. He muttered a curse beneath his breath and vowed to keep an eye on the boy. He didn’t like how the boy’s gaze made his skin crawl.
Hagger frowned and searched as well, until his eyes locked onto the Hound’s position. He gestured the youth forward. “We’re ready. Take us to him.”
The boy nodded and took off at a fast lope. Allan caught the flash of a quick grin on the Hound’s face as Hagger swore and growled, “Keep up! We don’t want to lose him, or the captain will have our hides!”
The Hound, trailed by Allan, Hagger, and a half dozen other Dogs, ascended to the main level of the Amber Tower and then out onto the still dark streets. He immediately headed left, to the far side of the Tower, passing through the ley-lit gardens and thoroughfares until he reached the center of Grass—the Nexus. He circled around the huge oval building sunk into a deep depression in the ground, the crystal roof glowing with an intense white light rivaling that of the Flyers’ Tower. Stairs led down to the buildings from the edge of the depression, but the Hound ignored them all, breaking away from the Prime Wielders’ central power and the hub of the entire ley system and out through the northern towers, winding among their bases. As they left the cluster of spires behind, Allan caught sight of the eastern horizon, beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. Clouds streaked the skies in bands, and the plains spread out wide and flat beneath them.
Then they were passing through the outer streets of Grass, more citizens on the roads now, although they ducked quickly out of the Dogs’ way. A moment later, Allan shouted to Hagger, “He’s headed toward the ley station!”
Five minutes later the Hound broke through the arched doors into the mezzanine of Grass’ main hub. Twice the size of any of the others within Erenthrall, the ceiling soared high above, stained-glass windows piercing the stone. A huge fountain spewed water in a tangle of arcs in the center. The Hound headed directly toward the tunnel that led to the northeastern ley lines.
Just as the Hound ducked into the tunnel, Allan spotted a young boy to one side selling the local news sheets. He thought about the crumpled copy of the code they’d found and grabbed Hagger’s arm. “Hold up.”
Hagger slowed and scowled as Allan tossed an erren to the boy and snatched up the day’s copy of The Ley, stuffing it into his pocket without looking at it. They took off again after the Hound and the other Dogs.
“Bloody waste of time,” Hagger muttered under his breath scornfully.
Allan ignored him.
A moment later they were on the platform, the Hound waiting patiently at one end, the other Dogs in a rough circle around him. Even then, Allan found it hard to locate the boy. His ability to blend in appeared to increase in public, when there were more people around. He simply stood still, his gaze darting through the patrons of the ley station as they moved, none of them approaching too close to the ring of Dogs, their eyes averted. The Hound’s eyes settled on Allan and held, until Allan shifted uncomfortably and glanced away. He noticed the other Dogs refused to look toward him, watching the white ley line or the rest of the station instead. Even Hagger ignored the boy, arms crossed and feet planted wide, his posture screaming “do not approach.”
Allan sidled closer as they waited. “We’re on the northeastern track, passing through the Shadow, Cold, Plinth, and Warren Districts. Any idea where we’re going?”
Hagger gave him a cold stare. “None.”
Allan frowned at the coldness, but turned away as the ley barge arrived, gliding out of the tunnel and docking next
to the platform, a whistle blaring shrilly. He scanned the passengers as they disembarked, searching for anyone who felt out of place, then watched those enter the front of the barge opposite the Dogs as the Hound stepped onto the barge’s deck, through the outer doors, and into the interior. Nothing appeared out of place. He and Hagger were the last to board, the whistle shrieking again as the barge jolted away from the platform, shuddering at first, before recovering and speeding down the ley stream toward the next destination. Allan grimaced, thankful he hadn’t completely disrupted it by simply being there. None of the other Dogs appeared to notice, merely grumbling in annoyance at the rough ride. Allan retrieved the news sheet from his pocket, along with the coded sheet from Sedric’s stash, and began counting out words according to the code.
They passed through Shadow, the Hound oblivious, eyes on Allan as he worked. The Hound didn’t move as the barge paused in Cold either, passengers disembarking and joining them in a cacophony of conversation, laughter, and the whistle’s shriek, nearly everyone pausing and falling silent in uncertainty when they caught sight of the pack of Dogs before shuffling farther away down the barge.
When they were halfway to Plinth, Allan leaned back from the window of the barge he’d used as a surface to write on, rocking gently with the motion of the ship, and frowned down at the news sheet. Uneasiness crawled through his gut as he sorted out the message, then clenched at his heart.
Eyes wide, he shot a glance toward Hagger. “We’re going to need more Dogs.”
Hagger’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“Because we’re headed toward Lord Gatterly’s estate. In Plinth. According to this, there’s a meeting of the Kormanley there, today.”
Hagger sniffed derisively and Allan bristled, anger blossoming swift and hot in his chest. He took a sharp step forward, so close Hagger shifted back without thought.
In a low voice, Allan whispered fiercely, “Ibsen Senate must be attending the meeting, that’s why the Hound is leading us there. Lord Gatterly has probably been protecting him since Sedric was taken!”
Hagger’s mocking expression faltered, his grizzled features creasing as he frowned in thought. His gaze darted toward the Hound, then back to Allan and the crumpled pages he held in his hand.
Then he met Allan’s hard stare, lip curled. “We’ll see. If the Hound takes us to Gatterly’s estate, I’ll send one of the Dogs for reinforcements.”
Blood thrummed through Allan’s veins, but he bit back a retort and stepped away. The air between them hummed with tension; the other Dogs picked up on it, their eyes fixed elsewhere, but their attention on the two ostensibly leading their pack. Allan could sense their derision as well, taking their cue from Hagger. Their lack of respect tasted bitter on Allan’s tongue. He spat to one side, but nothing could rid him of the acridness. He tried to ignore it, as he’d done for the past few years, ever since he’d bonded with Moira, but he couldn’t. It had grown too thick.
But he’d deal with it as best he could. For Moira. For Morrell.
He straightened, caught Hagger’s gaze defiantly as the barge drew to a halt at the Plinth station. He stepped from the barge before the Hound, confident he was correct, and felt a surge of vindication a moment later when the Hound followed him. A few of the other Dogs traded uncertain glances with Hagger, but he motioned them after the Hound as the boy trotted across the platform and up through the station onto the street.
The Hound darted through the maze of Plinth’s cobbled thoroughfares without looking at the heavy columns and carved facades of the mercantiles and trading houses to either side, his entire demeanor suddenly intent. He paused twice, drawing in the air deeply, his body vibrating with intensity, before taking off in a new direction. The Dogs followed, cursing as they dodged through streets packed with ley carts, a few horses with riders, and the throngs of merchants conducting business in the trading houses. But the Hound didn’t falter, sliding through the masses with ease, no one apparently noticing him. Allan noted they were ascending toward the estates near the plinth of striated stone that gave the district its name and the cliffs above the Urate River. He caught the same recognition in Hagger’s gaze.
The Hound halted before the gates of Gatterly’s manse, the building barely visible behind the wrought iron doors and the branches of the trees in the garden beyond. The boy turned to Allan and said, “Wait here.”
Without waiting for a response, he skirted the walls of the estate to the left, pausing to scent the air at intervals. As soon as he vanished around a corner, Allan turned to Hagger.
“Send a runner,” he said. “According to the message, they’ll be meeting here near dusk. We should scatter, set up a perimeter, seize some of the surrounding houses and wait for the others, make certain we aren’t seen.”
Hagger almost protested, his breath drawn for a sharp retort, but he let it out in a low growl. “I’ll send a runner. You figure out how we’ll get into the estate. I don’t want anyone who comes to this meeting to escape. I want them all.” He turned to stare through the gate, and Allan felt some of the derision fade as his focus was caught by this new development. “Maybe this is the break we’ve been waiting for,” he muttered. “Maybe we’ll finally crush these Kormanley for good.”
Then he spun and began issuing orders, the Dogs dispersing to either side, fading back into the streets and narrows beyond.
Allan glanced at the manse as well, wondering if they’d already been seen. But the tension in his shoulders eased as he joined Hagger and the others. They took over a home with a sightline on the gate, the owners and their servants unceremoniously locked into one of their own rooms upstairs, two Dogs on watch. Then they settled in to wait.
An hour later, the Hound returned, appearing out of nowhere, all of the Dogs on watch startled. Somehow, the boy had slipped past everyone. After his heart settled, Allan asked, “Is Ibsen inside?”
The Hound nodded without hesitation.
“Good,” Hagger murmured, glancing toward Allan. “Now all we need to do is figure out how to get inside.”
Allan frowned, still not certain how he’d manage that, but the Hound said, “I’ll open the gate.”
“You can get inside?” Allan asked.
The Hound gave him a withering look, but Allan merely smiled. He almost reached out to tousle the boy’s hair, but smothered the urge. Instead, he said, “You’ve already been inside, haven’t you? Report.”
The Hound straightened, suddenly formal, as if Allan were his alpha, even though the Hound had shown deference to none of the Dogs before this except Daedallen. “The manse is mostly empty. No servants. Two men on the first floor, the pr—target and the owner of the house. They were eating in the kitchen.”
“What about the layout of the place?” Hagger growled.
The Hound looked at Allan first, who nodded, making Hagger’s mouth twist in annoyance, but the Dog didn’t dare lash out against the Hound. He focused on the boy’s report on the rooms and their location instead, Allan only half listening.
The reinforcements arrived, along with Captain Daedallen, a half hour before the first activity began at the estate. At the captain’s nod, Hagger dispersed the new Dogs, then brought Daedallen up to speed, Allan showing him the copy of The Ley and the coded message. The captain eyed the estate, and Allan felt a jolt of excitement sweep through him and the Dogs with them as Daedallen’s eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. As the sun began to sink, the excitement grew, charging the air. Lights appeared in the manse through the gate and trees, ley globes firing up all along the wall. An unmarked ley carriage arrived, the gates opening slowly at some hidden command, followed a short time later by a horsedrawn carriage, the liveried servant slapping the animals forward as soon as the gates were open wide enough to admit them. He appeared nervous, eyes scanning the street when they halted. Others arrived on foot, slipping from the lengthening shadows and into the garden beyond. Allan co
unted ten people, some of them merchants, others in guild colors, others nondescript.
His breath quickened; his blood sang. “It’s almost time,” Allan said. “The meeting should begin within the hour.”
Daedallen nodded. “We’ll give them a little more time, let them settle in.”
Allan’s hands itched to take up his sword, his legs twitching even more. If Daedallen hadn’t been there, he suspected Hagger would be pacing. As it was, the older Dog’s fingers were drumming against his upper arms where they were crossed over his chest.
An interminable time later, Daedallen finally gave a stiff nod.
The Hound slipped from the home’s front room. Allan saw the boy cross the street a moment later, then lost sight of him. Hagger sent runners to the rest of the Dogs tucked away in the houses and shops they’d seized control of earlier. Daedallen regarded the estate in silence, body still, although Allan felt the tension radiating from him.
And then the shadow of the Hound appeared on the far side of the gate.
“Go,” Daedallen barked.
Hagger dodged out through the rearranged furniture of the room, out the door and onto the street, Allan and the other Dogs behind him. They all drew their swords as they neared the gate, the Hound catching sight of them, turning, then sprinting toward the front of the manse beyond. Hagger cursed, even as they were joined by the other groups, but his attention shifted away from the Hound as his hands flashed orders to spread out to the left and right. Dogs ducked into the garden, trampling flowers and bushes, Allan and Hagger heading straight for the heavy oak double doors. One was slightly ajar, the lock shattered, a slim blade sticking out from the keyhole. The Hound’s work, although Allan hadn’t seen any weapons on the boy.
Shattering the Ley Page 21