The Wielder insisted on checking the back of the corridor, opening every locked door. They found two dead, managed to bring one Wielder, a man about twenty-five years old, around after finding him unconscious on the floor. One room was filled with stone. They heard another Wielder pounding desperately before they reached the door, her hands bloody and her voice raw from shouting. On the way back out, they released four more, including the one who’d been sobbing.
As a group, a few holding each other up for support, they emerged into what had once been the Dogs’ training pit, the Wielder’s ley globe revealing a room ravaged by the collapse of the ceiling. The entire central pit was covered with chunks of granite, splinters of amber scattered on top.
A group of Dogs turned, weapons raised, as they arrived. “Halt where you are!” one of them shouted.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” one of the rescued Wielders snapped. She was older than Allan, than any of the rest, at least fifty. Her gray-streaked hair was disheveled and floated around her head in wisps. “We’re getting the hells out of here, before the entire tower comes down on us.”
They moved toward the tower’s entrance, Allan keeping himself between the group and the Dogs. All five of them gripped their swords tightly, the leader stepping forward, jaw muscles clenching, but he didn’t attack. Those behind him shifted uncertainly, until he motioned them to follow the Wielders at a discreet distance.
They worked their way up the cracked stairs, the Wielder who’d cut him free in the lead with Morrell, Allan at the back, trying to keep his eyes on the Dogs behind and whatever they’d encounter ahead at the same time. The urge to snatch Morrell and vanish, head back to the Hollow, was strong, skating along his skin and prickling the back of his neck, but he didn’t know what had happened yet, and from what he’d seen, he thought there might be safety in numbers.
As they ascended the stairs, the high-pitched whine grew, piercing into Allan’s skull. The others winced as they picked their way over chunks of the stone ceiling. A moment later, they emerged into the open foyer of the Amber Tower, granite giving way to the gold-toned amber that gave the building its name. Cracks ran through the lustrous walls, like the cracks in ice, and splinters and slivers of the amber littered the main floor. One of the curved staircases had collapsed, along with a portion of the ceiling, a gaping hole leading up to the upper floor. Allan caught the Wielder turning Morrell’s head away, shielding her from the bodies strewn around the room. As the group moved across the floor toward the open doorway and the sunlight streaming through it, Allan caught furtive movement in the upper rooms, a figure ducking into shadows. His grip tightened on the handle of his sword, but he followed the Wielders out onto the tower’s landing.
As soon as they stumbled into the sunlight, the Wielders halted. The older woman gasped, raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide. A few of the others whispered prayers. One woman’s legs gave out beneath her and she crumpled into a seated position, one arm holding her upright.
“What’s happened?” one of the men murmured. “What—?” He couldn’t finish.
When Allan stepped out of the shade of the tower after them, he saw why.
His heart constricted in his chest and he suddenly felt weak. Morrell snatched his free arm, clutching tight with a muttered, “Da.” But Allan could not tear his eyes away from the destruction before him.
Grass was gone, the towers that had risen into the sky on all sides shattered, sheared off near their bases, a few only a couple of stories high, others a little higher. Boulders that had once been part of those towers covered the street, carriages crushed beneath them, other carriages flung up against the base of the tower. Allan recognized the distinctive leaf pattern of the Flyers’ Tower on one chunk of green stone the size of a house. Dust covered everything, swirling through the street and the remains of the park beyond in the breeze. None of the trees remained, none of the brush or decorative plants, the ground of the park scoured clean. Even the huge urns to either side of the tower’s entrance were empty, the ornamental shrubs gone.
And then Allan noticed a sword on the wide step to one side, one edge of its blade bared and glaring in the later afternoon sunlight. The dust was so thick it had drifted and covered the hilt . . . and the armor to one side. His eyes scanned the steps and found more signs of the Dogs and servants who had stood on this spot when whatever had happened occurred. But there were no bodies, just as there were no trees.
He pulled Morrell closer to him.
“Where is everyone?”
Allan turned toward the leader of the Dogs who’d been following them, raising his sword, but the Dogs stood in loose formation, gazing out over the destruction in shock, none of them paying any attention to Allan or the Wielders.
The Dogs’ leader licked his lips and dropped his gaze toward Allan. “Where is everyone?”
“Dead,” Allan said, then used the point of his sword to nudge the blade he’d seen into view. Dust skirled away as he motioned toward the remains of the armor. “I think they died right here.”
But not all of them, he thought, as he caught more furtive movement in the shadows of the tower behind them.
“What do we do?” the elder Wielder asked. Beside her, the Wielder half her age who had been sobbing before had switched to a low moan, the sound somehow desolate. The older woman searched the Dogs’ faces, then settled on Allan. “What do we do?” she demanded.
Allan didn’t know. He couldn’t think, his mind numb, his body exhausted. He wanted to sink down onto the steps and simply rest, let the wind press against him, let the dust settle over him. He ached from head to toe, his back on fire from the lacerations Hagger had made; he knew he should get them treated. And now this. He couldn’t comprehend it, his mind insisting it must all be a dream, perhaps fever-induced. Perhaps he was still strapped to the table in the cell beneath the Amber Tower, his mind destroyed. Perhaps Hagger had finally broken him.
And then his roaming eye caught sight of the Wielder who had rescued him. She wasn’t staring out over the destruction of Grass, over the crumbled towers and the rubble they’d left behind. She wasn’t even looking beyond, to where he could see the rest of the city in shambles, buildings collapsed, even a few columns of smoke from fires rising against the horizon.
Her attention was fixed above, her eyes shaded with both hands, the ley globe floating forgotten to one side. He noted a few of the other Wielders were staring straight up as well.
Squinting, he followed the Wielders’ gazes.
Overhead, nearly straight above their position, a fiery ball of white light roiled against the vivid blue of the sky. Allan grimaced, his eyes watering even though they were narrowed down to slits. The light was more intense than the sun, seemed larger than the sun as well, and with a start he realized that it was the source of the piercing whine that grated against his ears and shuddered in his bones.
“What is it?” he asked.
The Wielder who’d rescued him dropped her hands and looked at him, her face lined with dread.
“It’s the beginning of a distortion.”
The older Wielder looked skyward and gasped. “It’s bigger than anything I’ve ever seen.”
The Wielder nodded. Then, in a strangely flat, matter-of-fact voice, she proclaimed, “If this one quickens, I think it will consume the entire city.”
Twenty-Six
“WE HAVE TO REPAIR IT,” Kara said.
The older Wielder with the wispy hair snorted. “How? It’s too big. We’ll never be able to surround it.”
“She’s right,” one of the other Wielders said. He shook his head, his eyes wide in wonder as he stared up at the pulsing white light. “I wouldn’t even know how to begin.”
Kara frowned in irritation. “We can’t do it as individuals, no, but if we work together. . . .” She let the thought trail off, then spun around and indicated the Wielders who’d climbed out o
f the cells of the tower, focusing on those who were older, more experienced. Most were around her age—late twenties or early thirties. Only one appeared to be newly released from the college. “There are seven of us altogether. If we link up, support each other, we can stop it.”
The older woman’s jaw tightened. “I’m not certain it will work even then.”
“We have to try. Otherwise—”
She didn’t get to finish. With a slow, growling rumble, the earth beneath them shook, throwing nearly everyone to the ground, men and women crying out as the stone beneath them heaved. On the far side of the park, part of a dull brown tower that had remained standing after the initial blast collapsed with a roar. Dust rose all around them as the earth shifted, and a few shards from the remains of the Amber Tower cascaded down and shattered, peppering one of the younger Dogs. He screamed, cuts riddling his face as he staggered, stumbled, and rolled around on the ground, hands raised to cover his eyes.
A moment later, it stopped, the rumble fading into the distance, the ground settling.
Kara picked herself up to find the ex-Dog who’d been tortured crouched protectively over his daughter, exactly as he had been when caught in the distortion. As soon as the earthquake faded, he stood and grabbed his daughter’s hand, heading down the steps toward the street and the city beyond.
“Where are you going?” Kara called out, apprehension rising in the back of her throat. She didn’t want to be left alone with the Dogs and the other Wielders; she didn’t want to be left alone at all.
Without turning, the tortured Dog barked, “Away!”
“You won’t make it,” Kara cried, taking a step forward. “You don’t have enough time to make it out of its range. If it quickens, it will enclose the entire city!”
That brought the Dog up short. He spun back with a snarl. “You said I was immune!”
She realized he was right. If the distortions didn’t affect him, as they hadn’t before, he might be able to escape, even if the Wielders weren’t with him. He might be able to leave whenever he wanted.
“I don’t know that for certain,” Kara countered, trying not to let desperation creep into her voice. “What if the distortion doesn’t affect you when it forms, but then you’re trapped inside it? Can you move around inside one after it’s formed?” That caught his attention; Kara saw him frown. He didn’t know, or at least wasn’t certain. She pushed the advantage. “Maybe you’re immune, maybe you’re not. But I know we aren’t. None of us are.”
“That’s not my problem.” He tugged on his daughter’s arm and started off again, reaching the edge of the street, turning toward the west.
“It is your problem,” she shouted. “You’re going to need us. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I know it involved the ley. The entire system is in turmoil. You might be able to protect your daughter from men like these Dogs, or whatever else might be out there, but can you protect her from what’s happening to the ley? Can you protect her from the distortion? Think about her. You don’t know what’s out there!”
She knew the argument was weak, but he halted. He’d made it to the nearest intersection, now blocked by a massive chunk of gray stone. As if she’d planned it, something in the northern part of the city cracked and a plume of white ley light rocketed into the sky like a geyser, sheets of light breaking away from it in the wind and skirting west like spray. Parts of it shimmered like a prism, the light broken into reds and greens and gold. She saw the ex-Dog turn toward it, the muscles working in his jaw, his eyes narrowed. His daughter nudged his arm and he looked down, listening with a frown as she spoke. Kara was too far away to hear what she said, but the ex-Dog looked toward her, his expression angry.
“You’d better come with us,” he said grudgingly, his eyes shifting to include all of them, even the Dogs. “I don’t know what we’ll find out there, but it would probably be better to meet it as a group.” He shifted toward the tower and raised his voice. “That includes whoever is hiding out in the tower!”
Kara sucked in a sharp breath, everyone stilling to listen. The whine from the distortion continued, although Kara was growing used to its piercing tone. No one emerged from the tower.
Arguments broke out among the Wielders and the Dogs. Kara caught fragments, some urging the others to break away, one woman desperate to find her family. The Dogs were grumbling, eyeing the ex-Dog with hooded eyes as two of them dealt with the one who’d gotten splinters of amber in his face.
The older Wielder with the wispy hair shifted toward her and murmured, “Do we really need him?”
Kara exhaled, unaware she’d been holding her breath. “He’s right. The city’s quiet now because the survivors are still in shock. But once night falls?”
Both of them turned toward were the sun rested above the horizon.
“I trust him more than I trust the Dogs,” the woman said. “And we aren’t safe here.”
“I don’t think we’ll be safe anywhere inside the city, not once everyone shakes off their fear and begins moving,” Kara said, then shot a look toward the pulsing light of the distortion. “We’re going to have to deal with it eventually.”
“Agreed. But not right now. We need time to figure out what happened. And maybe we’ll find someone else who knows more than us, one of the Primes, perhaps.”
Unease roiled in Kara’s stomach as she watched the distortion, but she turned toward the ex-Dog and shoved it aside. It was too close to nightfall, and she knew nothing about the ley system at the moment, how damaged it was, how extensive the destruction. She knew nothing about distortions of such size either. It could quicken within moments, or it could remain stable for days.
She drew herself up, steadied her trembling hands, and said, “I’ll come with you.”
The ex-Dog nodded and turned toward the others. All but one of the Wielders, in his mid-thirties, drew up near Kara, but after a long moment, even he joined them. The leader of the Dogs gazed at them, eyes narrowed, then flicked a quick assent toward the ex-Dog. “We’ll come.” For now, his tone suggested, even though he didn’t say it out loud. Some of his fellow Dogs didn’t appear to like the idea.
The ex-Dog said nothing, merely turning back in the direction he’d been headed. Kara started out after him, the Wielders and Dogs trailing behind at a slower pace.
“What’s your plan?” she asked when she caught up with him.
“I have no plan,” he said, and for the first time Kara heard weariness in his voice. He glanced down toward his daughter. “I just want to get my daughter out of Erenthrall.”
Kara frowned. “You won’t make it out before nightfall.”
“Then we’ll find some place to spend the night,” he snapped.
Kara drew breath for a biting retort, but someone behind her gasped and she glanced up.
They’d moved away from the cover of the towers, Erenthrall now spread out before them. The southern part of the city was ablaze, the fire raging out of control, the columns of smoke so thick and black they covered at least three districts. The wind blew it west, the ash and embers settling across the river along Tannery Row and West Forks. The fire was a distant roar, like a wind. Kara stared down toward the University, her heart clenching as she wondered what had happened to Cory and Hernande, to all of the mentors and students, even the stupid little dog who had attached itself to her after she’d rescued it from the distortion. The geyser of ley to the north had ended, those districts strangely quiet, although they could hear an occasional unnatural howl rising somewhere from its depths that sent a shiver down Kara’s spine. Bizarre lights played across a few of the districts, shimmering and fading like the northern lights that could sometimes be seen above the Steppe.
“What was that howling?” the ex-Dog’s daughter asked. She was staring off to the north, her face troubled. Kara judged her to be about ten years old, maybe a little older. She was handling the situation
better than Kara would have expected, her expression shocked and frightened, but serious, compared to one or two of the Wielders, who were nearly catatonic, barely functioning enough to follow along with the group. Only the death-grip on her father’s hand revealed her age.
“I don’t know, Poppet,” her father said, “but it’s far enough away I don’t think we need to worry about it.”
Kara wasn’t so certain.
“What’s your name?” she asked the girl as the ex-Dog nudged them back into motion.
The girl shot a questioning look toward her father, who shrugged. “Morrell,” she said uncertainly, then added with a fierce frown. “Not Poppet.”
Her father smiled.
“My name’s Kara. I’m a Wielder.” She let her gaze settle on the ex-Dog expectantly.
After a moment, he glanced sideways, then grumbled in irritation, “Allan.”
Kara motioned to the lacerations and bruises that marred his back, a few of the deeper cuts actively bleeding. “You should let someone take a look at that.”
Allan tensed, then forced himself to relax. “Later.”
Another howl rose in the distance, joined by two others, much closer. The Dogs behind stared into the distance, grips tightening on their swords. The Wielders drew closer together.
“What’s happened to this city?” the older Wielder muttered. “What’s happened to Erenthrall?”
No one answered.
Dierdre burst into the main room of the building in West Forks, backlit by a hellish haze of ash and the pulsing blood-orange of fire until she closed the door. The acrid scent of smoke jerked Dalton out of his daze, his attention fixating on Dierdre.
“We have to move. Right now. The fire’s blowing this way.”
Two of the other Kormanley in the room—Michael and Brendan, both young, about Dierdre’s age—began pulling the backpacks they’d assembled earlier over their shoulders. Darius, Dierdre’s older brother, did the same as he asked, “Where are we headed?”
Shattering the Ley Page 50