Shattering the Ley

by Joshua Palmatier

  As if he’d heard her, Allan slowed. Kara rolled her head to one side, confused. They weren’t even halfway up the stairs yet.

  And then she saw them. Wolves, standing at the lip of the bowl that housed the Nexus, at the top of the stairs. Their black bodies encircled the half man, half wolf she’d seen before, the man Allan had named Hagger.

  Kara had no energy left for fear or shock. She was numb, on the verge of unconsciousness. Her head throbbed, the world strangely close and removed at the same time. But as the others drew to a gasping halt around her and Allan, Ryant summed up her reaction with one word:

  “Shit.”

  “Set him down and fan out,” Allan said to Ryant, even as he lowered Kara’s body gently to the ground. He could feel her trembling, but not in fear. She was trying to move, but she couldn’t. Her entire body had been dead weight. She’d be useless in a fight and she couldn’t run. “Protect them for as long as you can.”

  He didn’t say that it was hopeless. He counted twenty wolves at least, suspected there were more on their way, circling around to their flank. Hagger wouldn’t have left them an escape route.

  His chosen guardsmen spread out on the stairs as much as possible, blocking the path down to Kara and Dylan’s bodies. Artras knelt down over them both, one hand resting lightly on Kara’s upper arm. She glared at the wolves as Hagger motioned with one hand and they began pouring down the wide steps, most of them beginning to growl, teeth exposed.

  As soon as they began to move, Allan shunted Artras, Kara, and Dylan from his thoughts, only keeping an awareness of their location in the back of his mind. He kept his gaze fixed on Hagger, hatred for the old Dog boiling up from inside. He tried to suppress the rage as well, but he could feel his body shuddering, could hear the pounding of his blood through his veins. He’d faced off with Hagger in the training pit in the Amber Tower too many times to count and the outcome had never been certain. And he knew he’d be facing off against him again, here, on the steps of the Nexus. His old partner wouldn’t let the wolves get him; he wanted Allan for himself.

  Allan rolled his shoulders, fighting the tension there, feeling the cuts Hagger had inflicted that had barely begun to heal, and muttered, “Come get me, bastard.”

  Hagger’s left ear twitched and his lip curled up into a smile, as if he’d heard. Then he drew his blade and began descending the stairs.

  The wolves arrived first. Allan was waiting for them.

  The front line, four abreast, split at the last moment, two surging to Allan’s left toward Ryant and Trace, one veering off toward Keith and Anthon.

  The last leaped for Allan’s throat.

  He froze for a moment in shock, and then years of training took over, his blade slashing across the wolf’s torso, cutting into flesh, jarring against bone. The wolf yelped, its growl cut short. Blood splashed against Allan’s shirt and hands, but the force of his blow wasn’t enough to halt the wolf’s momentum. It crashed into him, snapping its jaws even as its lifeblood soaked into Allan’s side. He cursed and thrust the animal away, rolling down three tiers of stairs before coming to a halt, the wolf landing hard a step away before sliding off to the curved stone of the depression to one side. He heard it howl as it fell and slid down the steep grade, but he’d already pushed himself onto his back, lurching upright as the second wave hit. Two wolves attacked him at once this time, the other guards fighting to either side. Allan thrust up with his blade, grunting as it punched through a wolf’s chest, the animal twisting and jerking his sword arm aside. He kicked savagely at the same time, connected hard enough to jar his hip, felt sharp toenails gouge into his thigh as the second wolf scrambled for purchase. Teeth grazed his stomach and he rolled away, yanking his blade free from the still dying wolf, and found himself in a crouch on the edge of the stairs.

  He rounded on the second wolf a moment before its jaws would have snapped closed on his heel. He stabbed down, severing its spine, letting its own inertia carry it over the edge as he pulled his blade free and stepped to one side. A quick glance showed that Keith was down, body mangled near three wolf corpses, Anthon, Ryant, and Trace a few steps below fighting desperately against five more, Artras standing over Kara and Dylan behind them, a knife in one hand, waiting.

  But then Allan’s attention locked onto Hagger, who reached Allan’s level with a vicious smile and a half-growled, “My turn.”

  He swung even as he spoke, Allan anticipating the strike. But he didn’t expect Hagger’s speed. Either the old Dog had learned some new tricks after Allan left Erenthrall, or he was already adapting to his new form. Their blades clashed, edges scraping down to the hilts before Allan thrust it away, Hagger snarling as he swiped at Allan with his free hand. Hagger’s elongated nails tore through Allan’s shirt, scoring along his abdomen, drawing blood. The old Dog’s nostrils flared and Allan hissed at the pain, circling away from the stair’s edge. Beyond Hagger, three wolves paced the steps, trapping Allan between them and the wolves attacking the other guards.

  Allan cursed, but Hagger gave him no time to think, coming at him viciously, blade flaring in the light of the distortion above, his free hand raking at Allan at every opportunity. Sweat slicked down Allan’s back, stinging in the wounds there as they reopened. Hagger drove him back toward the other edge, nicking his upper arm, his thigh, slicing his side, none of the cuts serious but deep enough to draw blood. Allan sensed his parries flagging, drew on his rage for the strength to thrust Hagger’s blade up so he could duck under his guard, away from the ledge to the safety of the central step, punching the old Dog hard in the kidney as he did so. Hagger grunted and doubled over, snarling as he recovered, lashing out as Allan retreated. He spun, faced Allan, who gasped and cradled his side.

  When he’d ducked and twisted, his side felt as if it had torn apart. Perhaps the cut there had been more serious than he’d thought.

  Hagger chuckled. “I can smell your death, Pup. I can scent your life seeping from you.”

  Before Allan could respond, the whine from the distortion high above broke. Light flashed and flared. Hagger glanced up.

  Allan didn’t.

  Gripping the hilt of his sword in both hands, he pulled back and—using all of his remaining strength—drove the blade into Hagger’s chest.

  Hagger staggered back, gaze locking with Allan’s in shock, mouth open, before he fell to the steps. Behind him, the wolves began to howl, muzzles lifted to the sky. Answering howls rose behind Allan and he turned to see more wolves pouring out of the Nexus, charging up the stairs toward Artras, Kara, and the still unconscious Dylan. The old Wielder spun, knife held out before her, then cursed.

  All of Allan’s remaining strength fled. He collapsed to his knees, blood soaking his shirt, his breeches, not all of it his. Despair enfolded him.

  He had done the best he could, but it wasn’t enough.

  He lifted his gaze toward the sky, toward the white distortion and its twin, the sun, and muttered, “Sorry, Morrell.”

  Kara heard the fight, heard the growls, the scream as one of the guards died, the desperate curses as the remaining guards were driven closer to them. She knew the half-man, half-wolf Hagger had joined the fight because swords clashed. She knew the battle had turned against them when Artras squeezed her upper arm and stood, looming over her, one hand slipping into a fold in her shirt, withdrawing a surprisingly vicious-looking blade.

  At that point, her attention drifted to the distortion, to the pulsing light high above.

  The piercing whine faltered and cracked, Kara sucking in a sharp breath in the sudden silence. Then the distortion flared. Once. Twice. And Kara tensed in anticipation. The baying of the wolves made her flinch, her held breath expelled in surprise.

  And then the distortion quickened.

  Kara’s eyes widened at the beauty of the spray of color, even as she cried out an inarticulate warning. Like the distortions she’d repaire
d in the city, this one blossomed outward, multicolored arms spiraling out into the city. One—a brilliant blue-green—roared through the air directly overhead, causing Artras to duck. As wide as a street, it swung out toward the city, passing through the remains of the towers and out of Kara’s sight. Additional arms struck out in all directions, reds and golds and purples, jagged white lightning laced between them. Kara sucked in another sharp breath as she felt the distortion expanding, as she felt the Tapestry tearing and shredding around her. Reality ripped . . . no, reality fractured, like the crystal of the dome of the Nexus. She clenched her jaw as it cracked, hissing like ice on the surface of a puddle before it breaks. The hairs on her arms, at the nape of her neck, stirred as the air vibrated and shuddered. Behind them, beneath them on the stairs, the wolves, the guards, and Artras halted in awe and abject terror. For a moment, through the reek of her own sweat, through the stench of blood thick on the air, through the dust and grit disturbed by the tremors, Kara smelled sunlight, new grass, and fresh rainfall.

  Then the swirling mass of the distortion slowed. The tension in the air coalesced. The shards of the new reality within Erenthrall solidified, and on the cusp of an exhaled breath—

  They set.

  Epilogue

  KARA BECAME AWARE of the world slowly, sound intruding first—someone’s muffled breath, distorted and far away. The breathing slowly resolved. Kara’s eyes were open, had been open, but her vision remained a dark blur. As it solidified into darkness—night, she realized—a face coalesced above her.

  “Allan,” she tried to say, but her throat wouldn’t move. She realized that nothing would move—her arms, her legs, her chest. She wasn’t breathing, couldn’t blink, her entire body locked in place.

  She panicked. But there were no signs. The fear, the desperation, the clawing for release—it was all in her head. And in her heart. Even though her heart didn’t beat, her chest felt tight, confined, her emotions running rampant through unresponsive flesh.

  She screamed without sound, long and hard, until she realized that Allan was speaking to her.

  “—relax,” he said. “You can’t move now, but that will fade. Give it time. It shouldn’t be more than another twenty minutes.”

  She tried to relax, but found herself still racing about her head, trying to find a way out, a way to move. She’d never felt so claustrophobic in her life.

  Ten minutes later, she realized Allan was gripping her arm. His attention had drifted and as feeling slowly returned to her limbs she watched him scanning the distance, his face grim, expression hard. He knelt next to her, one knee up, his other arm resting on it. His forearm was bandaged, and there were new cuts across his face. Nothing serious, but they would add to his scars.

  And then she gasped, choked in a breath. At the same time, memory returned, of the fight on the steps of the Nexus, of the baying of the wolves, of the distortion flashing above and then expanding.

  She choked again, her body wanting to breathe, but acting as if it didn’t know how. Her heart stuttered, thudded hard in her chest, then halted, thudded again painfully a moment later. Allan reached across her and held her down as she thrashed, her heart beginning to beat normally an eternity later, air flowing comfortably into her lungs once again. The tingling of her blood beginning to flow through her limbs made her clench her jaw against a scream.

  “Easy,” Allan said. “Easy. It will settle down shortly. Just don’t jerk out of my hold.”

  “What—?” she grated, the word barely audible, the air catching in her unresponsive lungs.

  “The distortion quickened,” Allan said. “Everyone here—everyone and everything in the entire city of Erenthrall—is now locked inside it, including you. Except for me. I’m immune, remember? After checking things out, I started trying to get you out. I’ll get the others who survived—Artras, Dylan, Anthon, Ryant, and Trace—out as well, once you’re safe.”

  The seizures were lessening, but Allan didn’t remove his hands from her arms, nor did he lean back from where his body lay across her stomach. “How—?” The word came out clearer, but she still had to swallow hard.

  “I’ve never done this before. But I’ve discovered I have to be close,” he said. “And I have to be touching you. But it’s taken awhile, and based on your reaction it isn’t pleasant. Here.” He gripped her arms and hauled her into a seated position. She gasped as shockwaves of pain coursed through her arms and chest, reached down into her legs, but then he propped her up against him so she could look around.

  It was night, but the arms of the distortion glowed in vibrant shades above and throughout the city, jagged white-hot lightning laced between them, but frozen, pulsing slightly. Stars glimmered above, and the moon sat low on the horizon, but in the faint glow of the arced light surrounding them, she could see the wolves, locked in mid-charge, muzzles drawn back in vicious snarls, slobber streaming out to the side. Three of them were leaping, attacking Ryant, Trace, and Anthon, barely twenty feet away, but frozen by the distortion. Beyond them, a figure lay on the steps with a sword sticking out of his chest, another body beside him. More wolves were bounding down the stairs behind them.

  “That group was attacking Ryant, Trace, and Anthon. They’d already taken out Keith.” Allan nodded toward one of the bodies. “I killed Hagger just before the distortion quickened. That’s when the wolves above began descending on us. And then there were the ones Hagger had sent around to flank us.” He turned her, so she could see those streaming up the steps below them, where Artras stood in a defensive half-crouch over Dylan’s unconscious form. “If it hadn’t quickened, they’d have slaughtered us.”

  Kara stirred, surprised she could move as much as she did. “How long have you known the distortions couldn’t touch you?”

  “I knew I could affect the power of the ley, but I didn’t know anything about being immune to the distortions until Morrell and I were trapped in the one you were repairing. I didn’t know I could move around inside them either, or whether or not I could bring you out of its hold. Not until you started struggling.” He hesitated, then added, “But before I tried to save you, I checked on the others. Those at the University . . . they made it outside of the distortion’s radius. Barely. If you hadn’t repaired it as much as you did, they’d be locked inside with us.”

  Kara wanted to ask if he would have saved them all if they had been trapped, or simply taken Morrell and left. She suspected the latter. But then again, he’d come back for her, and it sounded like he meant to save Artras and the others as well. He could have left, claimed everyone had been killed by the wolves or caught in the distortion and he couldn’t help them. Maybe her earlier impression of him had been wrong.

  “What about Cory? Hernande? Morrell?”

  “They all survived Hagger’s attack. Many of those in the group didn’t. Twenty-two were killed, and there are another four that might not survive their wounds. But the rest made it.”

  Kara nodded. “What do they plan to do?” she croaked. “Where are they going?”

  “That’s the question, isn’t it?” Allan shifted, jostling her, then sighed heavily. “I wasn’t going to take any of you back to the Hollow. I lied. I was going to take Morrell and abandon you all.”

  “But now?”

  “Now . . . I think the Hollow is going to need you and the other Wielders. You haven’t been outside of the city yet. What’s happening here isn’t isolated, it’s all over. Not as intense as here, but still occurring. The lights that warped Devitt, that transformed Hagger and the other Dogs into wolves, the surges of ley, the quakes. . . . It’s not the same world anymore. I’m not certain what it is, but I think having a few Wielders in the Hollow would be a good thing right now.”

  “But you don’t want everyone in the group in the Hollow, do you?”

  She felt his chuckle through her chest. “No. I don’t think some of them will fit in. Bryce, for instance. T
he other Dogs. But I also think we’re going to need men like them. I think the world is going to become very rough for the next few years. The Hollow, if it’s survived so far, will have to be defended. But it can’t support everyone either. There isn’t enough arable land around it, not defensible land anyway. And there are thousands who survived Erenthrall, scattered out into the surrounding lands.”

  “You’ve given this thought.” She tried to shift away from him and he let her, although his grip on her arm tightened. She trembled in relief when she found she could move her arms and legs, although they felt heavy.

  “I’ve had time,” Allan said quietly as she stretched her arms out and rolled her head, the muscles in her neck cracking. “You’ve been inside the distortion for three days.”

  Kara couldn’t breathe for a moment. She couldn’t remember anything from the time the distortion quickened to the time Allan’s face blurred into existence above her.

  She shuddered, and suddenly the urge to move, to leave, made her muscles twitch. “Let’s get out of here,” she said, and tried to stand.

  Only to collapse back into Allan when her legs wouldn’t support her.

  “Easy,” Allan said. “You may have been trapped for three days, but your body still thinks you just finished dealing with the distortion. You’re still weak. I’ll have to carry you.”

  He pulled her around and swept her up into his arms as if she were a rag doll. She gasped in protest, but he’d already begun moving, climbing the stairs up out of the depression that held the Nexus.

  When they reached the summit and stepped out from behind the wall that had once protected the Nexus, Kara sucked in a breath in shock and wonder, although Allan didn’t slow.