Shattering the Ley

by Joshua Palmatier

  His obvious joy made Kara wonder why he’d left. Or what had forced him to leave.

  Before she could ask, he clapped his hands together and said, “Now, Cory, please smooth the sands while I prepare. Then send someone to cancel my next class, since I will obviously be occupied here.”

  “And what should I do?” Kara asked.

  “Ask your question. Then I have something to show you.”

  Kara settled down on the steps while Cory left the room, returning a moment later with what looked like a rake with small tines. But she couldn’t remain seated, a strange nervous energy coursing through her. As she watched Cory begin smoothing out the dunes in the sand, she began pacing. “Have you ever heard of someone surviving a distortion once they’ve been caught in it?” she asked.

  Hernande had pulled small incense holders from his pockets and began placing them at the four corners of the sand pit. “Of course. You and your fellow Wielders save people from the distortions and all of the other anomalies caused by the misuse of the ley on a daily basis. It’s your job.”

  Kara gave the mentor an irritated look, noticed the smile touching his eyes. “I mean survival without the interference of a Wielder, after the distortion has quickened, then closed.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because this morning, a man and a young girl were caught in a distortion and it collapsed before I could free them. They left unharmed, and while we were caught in the distortion, I saw both of them moving.”

  Hernande halted his preparations and stared at her over the sand pit with one eyebrow raised. “You were caught in the distortion yourself?”

  “It quickened while I was too close. I was only caught in its edge.”

  He grunted. “Still . . . it would be interesting to discuss your perceptions while inside the distortion. Some of my colleagues have theorized that the distortion actually fractures time and space. Perhaps you would have some insight into their theories. But that is not what you came to discuss.” He shrugged the tangent thoughts aside and paced back and forth across the length of the sands, one hand stroking his chin, elbow cupped in his other arm, head bowed. Every now and then he pulled his beard up and chewed on the end thoughtfully, which made Kara grimace.

  Finally, he turned to Kara with his penetrating stare. “I cannot recollect an instance where anyone survived a distortion without some form of outside help. Are you certain—”

  “Yes,” she said, cutting him off.

  He nodded. “Ah. I’ll have to do some research, look into accounts of the distortions, especially the earliest ones. However, I’d hypothesize that whatever this effect is, it doesn’t originate with the distortion.”

  Kara straightened. “Meaning what?”

  “Meaning that it wasn’t the distortion that skipped over the man and girl,” Cory answered. He finished with the last of the sand, the pit now smooth. He wiped sweat from his forehead. “Whatever caused it to stop came from the man.”

  Hernande nodded. “Or the girl.”

  “I don’t think he realized what was happening. Not at first.”

  Hernande shrugged, his attention shifting from the conversation to the sands. “More evidence that it may have been the girl. It may be an unconscious manipulation of the Tapestry, something he or she has no control over. Or it may have nothing to do with him or the girl.” With a wave of his hand, Hernande dismissed the question. “I’ll need time to think on it. Now, I have something to show you.”

  Irritated by the dismissal, Kara began, “But—”

  “Don’t,” Cory said quietly as he came to a halt at her side. “He’s already thinking about it, even if it doesn’t appear that way. And he needs to focus for this to work.”

  “I don’t see what anything you two are doing would have to do with me.” She pitched her voice loud enough to carry to Hernande where he had crouched, concentrating on the sands.

  “It might have nothing to do with you. But I think it does,” Cory said, his voice low as he watched Hernande. “This is what I was telling you about the other day, what we were starting when the ley went dark.”

  Kara frowned as she felt Hernande reaching out to the Tapestry, drawing it in and focusing it. A Wielder’s job was to smooth out the Tapestry, to iron out the wrinkles and repair the tears and rents in its fabric caused by the ley or the misuse of the Tapestry by those untrained with their own abilities. But what Hernande was doing was different. Instead of smoothing it out, he was gathering it in folds, drawing it together and twisting it in such a way that no tears or rents appeared.

  Then Kara felt him reach up to the ley globes, felt him form a connection between the two, drawing some of the ley down into the folds he’d created. The globes above dimmed as he drew from their power. Ripples spread outward on the Tapestry, but dissipated before they’d traveled too far.

  Hernande looked up. “Everyone knows there’s a connection between the ley and the Tapestry. We can see the consequences of that connection in the distortions, which only began appearing when the ley was subverted by the Primes and the Barons into the current ley system. However, we don’t know what the connection between the two is. I’ve been studying the ley and the Tapestry for the last thirty years with the help of my graduate students, like Cory, trying to find the connection between them. This is what I’ve found most recently.”

  Without moving, he threw the gathered folds of Tapestry and ley out over the sands, the entire construct spreading like a fisherman’s net and settling slowly, its corners tied to the incense burners Hernande had placed at the edges of the pit. Kara stepped forward as it began to sink into the sands, the grains and ley and Tapestry comingling, until she couldn’t see the folds anymore, could only sense them hidden underneath.

  For a long moment, nothing happened.

  But then the sands began to move, like water, shifting and flowing in set patterns. It started in the center of the pit and spread, channels snaking outward like a web.

  Kara tensed, Hernande watching her intently.

  When the moving sands reached the stone edge of the pit, they halted. After a moment, everything settled and Kara began to pick out paths in the pattern. Some of the eddies were moving faster than others, appeared stronger and wider, thicker. Others were narrow and moved slowly. Still other sections of sand weren’t moving at all.

  “It’s like the currents in a river,” she said, moving around the corner of the pit toward Hernande. “In some sections, the current is stronger than others.”

  The mentor nodded. “Yes. Tell me what else you see. What you sense.” He didn’t say anything more. Cory started to speak, but Kara saw Hernande motion his student silent with a subtle gesture.

  A quarter of the way around the pit, Kara halted abruptly.

  Something in the flows seemed familiar.

  She focused in on one particular section, tilted her head slightly to change her orientation, brow furrowed. Her heart beat in her chest, throbbing in her skin, the nervous tension she’d felt earlier prickling along the hairs on her arms, although that could be coming from the Tapestry and the ley, an aftereffect of the construct Hernande had created. She shrugged the sensation aside and concentrated, focusing on the section that had caught her attention, that seemed vaguely familiar. Hernande and Cory waited, their breath held.

  Then she gasped and glanced up sharply. “That’s the Eld District, and that’s Stone. These are the ley lines. This is the ley structure for the entire city of Erenthrall. All of it, what can be seen above ground and what’s hidden below.”

  Hernande nodded with a tight smile, eyebrows raised. “It extends a little beyond Erenthrall as well.”

  Kara held his gaze, her mind racing, thinking back to the discussion she’d had with Illiana and Steven in the node, back to the map tacked to the table, the implications and ramifications of what Hernande had constructed penetrating with sudden
swift force, like a blow.

  “We can use this,” she whispered, excitement already creeping into her voice. “We can use this to find out what’s wrong with the ley system.”

  Hernande frowned. “But if this is what you say it is, if this is a true map of the ley system and its current flows, and the Primes find out we have it. . . .”

  Kara felt something choke off her breath, cutting off her excitement in a death grip. She thought of the Dog who’d followed her to the University grounds. “They’ll kill us all.”

  “Why?” Cory asked. “Why would they kill us? We could have the key that helps them solve the problems with the ley.”

  “They won’t care,” Kara said, beginning to pace again. “The ley system is how the Primes keep their stranglehold on the Barons. They knew when the ley system was created that it would become the basis of power within the city, and they knew that they could control that power. They’ll eliminate any threat to that control. If they discover that we have access to their system, to the ley’s secrets—”

  “They will attempt to contain us,” Hernande finished. “Especially us. The rivalry between the Primes and the mentors at this University is . . . historic.”

  “They’ve kept this secret from the Wielders as well,” Kara added. “Only the Primes have access to the Nexus. Only the Primes know how the entire system works. The division between Prime and Wielder is sharp. They do not react well when a Wielder treads on their turf.” She thought back to the interrogation the Primes had put her through after she’d worked with the distortion at the Eld ley station, and she had already been slated to become a Prime herself. If Marcus and the other Wielders hadn’t been there to protect her. . . .

  She shuddered and glanced up to find Hernande watching her, his eyebrows pulled down in concern.

  “What I fail to understand,” he said quietly, “is why you are so anxious about the Primes at the moment. They do not know what we have discovered. Only you, Cory, and I know of this. I have not shared this with any of the other mentors.”

  She held his gaze a long moment, then said, “One of the Dogs followed us to the University.”

  Hernande’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “That . . . is unexpected.” Then he frowned in thought, hand traveling to his beard. He chewed on it as he began moving around the pit of sand, coming to Kara’s side. “Is it possible the Primes have detected the construction of the map?”

  “I don’t think so.” Kara closed her eyes and spread herself out on the Tapestry, her senses encompassing the room first, then passing beyond, feeling the energy flows around her. Someone was working in the room two doors down—she could sense the use of the ley and Tapestry there—but once she passed beyond a certain distance all signs that anyone was using the ley in this room faded into the background.

  She opened her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t see how they could know about it. The power you use for the map is too localized. It’s lost in the background outside twenty paces of this room. Besides, the Dog was following me, not Cory or you. And I didn’t know about the map yet.”

  “Why would the Dog be following you?”

  “I don’t know. And I don’t know how long he’s been following me. I only noticed him on the way over here, but he could have been watching me for a while now. Either way, it doesn’t make sense.” She thought about the barge crash, how the Dogs had arrived before the city watch. But if they’d been following her since then, why hadn’t they appeared immediately after the distortion this morning?

  And hadn’t a few of the other Wielders mentioned seeing the Dogs more often lately while chatting around the node?

  Kara traded looks with Hernande, who shrugged. “It doesn’t make sense. They can’t possibly be aware of the map.”

  They both turned to look at the flowing sands, Kara kneeling down at the edge of the bottom step. This close, she could hear the grains moving against each other with a faint hiss. The smell of salt was much stronger now than when she’d first entered as well, as if churned up from the sand pit’s depths.

  “Do you see anything?”

  “No. The patterns match what I know of those two districts, and Hedge and Tallow and all of the other districts I’ve worked in. But beyond that, I can’t tell. The Primes don’t like us to know too much about the rest of the city.”

  “Then it may take some time to find any anomalies in the system. We’ll have to study it, look for discrepancies. We’ll need to take note of the directions of the flows, their strength, whether they ebb or increase at specific times of the day, if they fluctuate at all.” He began wandering away, his attention shifting to Cory. “And we’ll need to try to expand the map to include places other than Erenthrall.”

  Kara reached out toward the shifting sand near her feet, nearly touched it, but pulled back and stood. “I’ll help, when I can.”

  “What will you do in the meantime?” Hernande asked.

  She smiled grimly, pulling her attention away from the sands. “I’ll watch the Dog, see if I can find out why he’s watching me.”

  “And what if we find something here?” Cory asked. “How are we going to tell the Primes if we can’t reveal we have the map?”

  “We’ll deal with that when we come to it,” Kara answered, although she had already begun planning. Steven had contacts within the Nexus. And the Wielders themselves could act, if it came to that.

  The Primes couldn’t kill all of them. Not when the Wielders were the ones who maintained the ley out in the streets.

  “I can help you with some of the equipment on your list, but the supply of medicinal herbs—the coraphile and bloodbane,” Vanter tapped his finger against the sheet of parchment, “that’s hard to come by. Costly as well.”

  Allan scrubbed his haggard face with both hands, then grimaced. “What can you get on that list? And how much will it cost?”

  Vanter shrugged his massive shoulders and moved back behind the long table that separated the front of the room from the dark recesses in back. Allan could see stacks of crates, labeled and categorized, straw sticking out of the cracks between the wood, along with heaps of burlap sacks, rounded casks, sealed clay urns and pots, and a hundred other assorted containers within the first thirty feet before the rest was swallowed up in shadow. The illicit dealer’s room reeked of hay, dust, animal feed, and some type of oil that must have been spilled recently. The overall effect was rather pleasant, somehow clean, especially considering that Vanter’s establishment was in East Forks, one of the worst districts in Erenthrall.

  Which was why Allan knew that the two of them weren’t alone. There were at least three others hidden in the darkness of the warehouse, there to guard the supplies from the denizens of East Forks and to keep an eye on Vanter’s customers. Allan could feel their eyes on him, even though he couldn’t see them.

  Vanter himself was huge, at least a foot taller than Allan, with a broad back a hand wider and certainly more muscular than Allan’s. None of his bulk was from fat. He wore a beard trimmed down to a thin line along the jaw in the current Temerite style, although Allan thought he came from Erenthrall itself originally. Allan had dealt with Vanter before and while he was straightforward and trustworthy when it came to the items he traded, the cost was typically exorbitant.

  Vanter studied one of his ledgers, flipping back and forth, making notations on a separate sheet as he went. “I can get you the plows and the hitches easily enough. The leather materials will take a few days. Most of the rest of what I’ve marked here—the bags of grain seed, the oils and bronze ingots—are already here at the warehouse.”

  He handed back Allan’s sheet, a check near the items he could supply.

  Allan scanned it and tried not to grimace. Not nearly enough covered, and this was the pared-down list.

  He looked Vanter in the eye. “How much?”

  Vanter leaned back, hands behind his head. �
��Rumor has it you come with a list every year, yet you’ve only come to me . . . what? Three times in the last ten years? Why is that?”

  Anger tightened Allan’s grip on the sheet of paper, but he didn’t drop his gaze. “You’re too expensive.”

  “I see. The rates do get cheaper with repeat customers, as I’m certain you’re aware. You only come to me when you’re desperate.” He paused in contemplation, his eyes not wavering, then he grunted. “One hundred errens for the lot.”

  Allan’s stomach clenched and he gazed back down at the sheet of paper, noticed that it shook. He mentally tallied what he’d brought with him to pay for the supplies—what the citizens of the Hollow had sent him with—and felt sick.

  He straightened and met Vanter’s flat stare. “Seventy-five.”

  Vanter snorted. “I could get twice that for half the supplies on your list.” But his gaze narrowed. “Ninety.”

  “Eighty.”

  “How do you intend to transport all of this? Plows aren’t light. Neither are the rods for your blacksmith.”

  “I have transport already arranged. Eighty.”

  Vanter frowned. “Eighty-five. Take it or leave.” His voice had taken on a dangerous, dismissive tone.

  Allan thought of the Wielder at the distortion, of Hagger and the Dogs he’d seen all over the city since. More Dogs out than he had ever seen during his stint in the Baron’s pay, let alone the last twelve years he’d come to Erenthrall for supplies. They were looking for something. Or someone. He could feel it in the prickle on the back of his neck, in the sense of urgency building in his gut.

  “Done.” He retrieved forty errens from the pack slung around his back. “Forty now, the rest on receipt and delivery of all of the supplies.”

  Vanter nodded, leaning forward to take the money. “Agreed. I can have it ready to go in three days.”

  “What about the medicine, the coraphile and bloodbane?”

  “What about it?”