Threading the Needle

by Joshua Palmatier

  He’d tried to train with the Dogs because he wanted to help defend the Hollow, but he could barely block with the blade, let alone kill with it. Killing the attacker on the ridge had been a fluke. Then he’d thought he could use the Tapestry in the Hollow’s defense, but now he found he couldn’t even do that. He was useless, worse than Sovaan, because he kept trying and could never follow through. At least Sovaan was up front with his pettiness and instinct for self-preservation.

  Then he felt the Tapestry twist and heard an earsplitting crack. Cory staggered backward as earth and men erupted into the air like a geyser. Dirt and stone rained down as two more explosions tore through the attackers. Cory felt each knot form moments before it was released, their centers buried deep beneath the earth. They were tight, energy and tension compressed into a space the size of a fist, as they’d practiced since the last attack.

  “Demons!” someone roared from within the attackers. “Mages! They’re using the very earth against us! Fight them! Kill them before they destroy us all!”

  Another explosion rocked the path, close enough that Cory raised his sword arm to protect his head from the dirt pattering down on him. Seizing the Tapestry, he reached out near the center of the melee before him, deep underground, and wrenched.

  Earth erupted, flinging the bandits into the air and opening up a pocket of empty space in the fighting. The men he’d caught in the blast crashed down into their fellow attackers, knocking even more aside. Before they could recover, Cory reached left and then right, two new explosions breaking the attacker’s loose formation, joined moments later by four more earsplitting cracks farther up the rutted road.

  The attackers were screaming now, some in pain, others in panic.

  “Stay close! Defend Baron Aurek! Stick with your units!”

  But the unearthly attacks of the mentors and their students continued, some of the explosions stronger than others. Those engaged in fighting Bryce and the rest of his Dogs were the only ones not being targeted. Cory could see the sudden fear eating at the corners of their defense. Those farther up the path from Cory suddenly surged in retreat, piling into those fighting with the Dogs. When Bryce and the rest stood their ground, holding them back, a group of twenty broke toward the forest to Cory’s right. Cory reached out, felt his fellow University students do the same, and earth and tree boles exploded. Three trees groaned, their trunks splintered by knots, and began to fall, the twenty men crying out and scattering to get out of the way, the earth continuing to geyser around them.

  The raider’s leaders roared orders, calling those who fled cowards and bastards, their comments broken by curses and grunts of effort as they continued to fight. Cory straightened, sword dangling, and noted that the main group of fighters had maintained position. Another group had broken for the trees and the stream to the left, most of them charging through the barrage of earth geysers and split trunks without pausing, oblivious to the snap and crack of branches as even more trees toppled. When a few of them made it through unscathed, more broke for the safety of the surrounding hills.

  But not all of them. Those that stayed still outnumbered Bryce and his men, and were now fighting with fear-driven fervor and intensity. Cory unleashed another knot as he saw two of Bryce’s Dogs cut down. Through the hole made as their bodies fell away, he caught sight of the leader, his lord’s jacket splattered with blood. He fought with a calm focus and grim set to his jaw, eyes narrowed in anger and determination. He wasn’t bellowing orders to regroup, or berating his men for fleeing. He simply fought.

  Until he caught sight of Cory. Then he paused. He raised his sword and pointed it toward Cory.

  Cory raised his free hand—he never even considered raising his sword—and reached for the earth beneath the lord’s feet.

  Before he could twist the Tapestry into a knot and release it, ley fountained up from the earth on all sides. It poured skyward in curling tendrils and sheeting curtains, hemming the attackers in on three sides, leaving them only one avenue of escape.

  Those hardened enough to withstand the geysers of earth broke beneath the onslaught of ley, crying out in sudden horror. They surged forward against Bryce and his men, no longer trying to fight free, simply fleeing in terror. Those few who tried to hold ground, including the leader, were shoved aside. A few fell and were trampled as Bryce’s defenders were overwhelmed. They charged down the path, directly toward Cory. He dodged to the side and into the trees, ready to unleash a knot if necessary, but none of them even glanced in his direction as they sped past.

  “Cowards!” one of the remaining men shouted from his position near Aurek, the leader surrounded by a dozen stalwart men who’d remained behind. “Cowards! Come back and fight like the Dogs you pretend to be!”

  Aurek raised a hand to silence him. “Let them go, Devin.” He glanced around the rutted road, pocked with craters from the knots Cory and the others had thrown, littered with over twenty bodies. The wall of ley curved around his position, hemming him and his men in, although it hadn’t moved. None of the Wielders had the skill to shift the ley into new pathways yet. They’d barely managed to control it without an established network like the one in Erenthrall during their practice sessions.

  Aurek’s gaze dropped from the ley to where Bryce, Braddon, and the others now stood, shoulders bristling, hands clenched tight to hilts. The Hollow’s Dogs had regrouped after being thrust aside by Aurek’s fleeing men. The two remaining groups were about evenly matched.

  Aurek and Bryce locked gazes. Both groups tensed, men shifting positions subtly, Devin stepping slightly in front of Aurek.

  “You’re aiding Wielders.” Aurek motioned to the gouts of ley behind him. “Hiding them. We’ve proof of it now.”

  “So what?”

  “They nearly destroyed us all. They need to be eradicated, before they can finish the job. Give us the White Cloaks and these mages of yours and we’ll leave you alone. We only want the Wielders and their compatriots.”

  “Like hells. You forget you were attacking our wagons before you even suspected we had Wielders. I don’t believe for a second that you’ll leave us alone once we’ve handed them over. And right now, I’d say they’re our best protection against you lot.”

  “Why you little shit.” Devin stepped forward, sword raised.

  Aurek reached out and caught his fellow’s arm, halting him. “You’re making a mistake. I saw you fighting, Dog. We could use men like you in Haven.”

  “At the cost of those who saved me in Erenthrall and have protected me since.”

  “They’ll turn on you, eventually, as they turned on us all.”

  “No one knows what happened in Erenthrall. Least of all you, Baron.” Bryce twisted the title with contempt.

  Devin’s shoulders bunched again, and the tension ratcheted up another notch as everyone on both sides raised swords and settled their weights for another fight. But Aurek tugged Devin toward the path instead.

  “We’ll go. Quietly.”

  The two shared a look and Devin relented.

  The attackers edged down the path, toward the remains of the Hollow, everyone moving cautiously, ready for any sudden moves from the other group. Braddon gestured to Bryce, asking to attack, but Bryce shook his head, his eyes never wavering from Aurek or Devin. When the attackers from Haven had shifted past them, the Dogs stepped out into the road, the ley a white fluid backdrop behind them, and watched as Aurek and his twenty guardsmen began trotting into the distance.

  Cory stepped out from the trees. “Are you letting them go?”

  “We don’t have the men here to pursue them, unless you’ve suddenly become a master of the sword.”

  “Not recently.”

  “So what are we going to do?” Braddon asked. “They’re running, but they aren’t done with us yet.”

  “No, they aren’t.” Bryce raised his voice. “They’re gone, for now. Who’s out
there?”

  Behind, the spouting ley died down, sinking back into the ground without a trace, like water absorbed by the earth after a hard rain. Behind the curtain of ley, Cory was shocked to see Sovaan, flanked by Jasom, Raven, and Mareane. Mareane looked pale, obviously not fully recovered from her seizure earlier. As the ley died, she lowered her arms and sagged into Raven for support. Behind them, a group of two dozen Hollowers—led by Paul and brandishing pitchforks and knives—wiped the fear-sweat from their foreheads. Hernande and Jerrain appeared from the left.

  “Where were you?” Sovaan huffed. “I had to cloak the cavern entrance myself!”

  “We were investigating the disturbance in the Tapestry. Research. Perhaps you’ve practiced it a time or two.”

  “You cowardly little . . . cloaking the caverns was your job!”

  Hernande stepped between the two mentors. “I’m certain you handled it magnificently in our absence, Sovaan.”

  The pompous mentor settled down, rolling his shoulders back, chest pushed out. “Of course. It was nothing—”

  Hernande didn’t wait for the rest, shifting to Bryce’s side. “What should we do? What do you need from us?”

  “They’re not going to retreat. My guess is they’ll regroup back at the Hollow, then come after us again. We need to get everyone here that’s been injured back to the caverns, then cloak the path and entrance as best we can.”

  “Paul, Sovaan, and the rest of you, see to the injured and get everyone back to the caverns. Jerrain, Cory, and I will handle hiding the path. Raven and Mareane, stay with us in case they return faster than we expect.”

  Paul motioned everyone forward, and they began checking all of the bodies, carting off anyone who was still alive. Raven made certain Mareane was recovered enough to stand on her own then began to help, doing triage on anyone with visible wounds. Mareane was still trembling, too weak to help, her pallor gray.

  Bryce had turned to his men. “Quinn, you and Reiss follow Aurek.” The two trackers took off, splitting up, each taking one side of the rutted path and vanishing into the woods. Bryce had already turned to Hernande. “We’ll pull back to the caverns slowly. Are you certain you can hide the path?”

  “We can.”

  Bryce glanced over the pitted ground with a frown. “Did you and your students do all of that?”

  “We did.”

  “Well done. I doubt we would have driven them off without you.”

  “It was the ley that drove them off. We only scared them.”

  “True.” Bryce switched to Mareane, since Raven was still dealing with the wounded. “I knew you Wielders would come in handy.”

  Mareane looked uncertain, as if she couldn’t decide whether to be angry, affronted, or thankful.

  “I thought you could use these knots of yours to kill, not simply move earth and fell a few trees.”

  “It’s too risky. People move, the earth and trees do not. The knot you intended for their heart ends up in their arm or in empty air or in one of your own men instead.”

  Bryce considered for a long moment. “You’ll have to work on that.”

  Paul approached. “We have everyone who’s still alive, including two of this group’s men.”

  “Good, we can question them about this ‘Baron’ Aurek and his Haven. Maybe we can find out where his main camp is located. In the meantime, how many dead?”

  “Four of our own, ten of the attackers.”

  “Considering they outnumbered us at least three to one, I’ll take it.” The Dog surveyed the stretch of path between forest and hills. “We’re done here. Let’s get everyone back to the caverns.”

  As everyone began to pull back, returning to the caves, Mareane pointed to the sky behind them, in the direction of the Hollow. “Look.”

  Cory turned, along with many of the others. Above the trees, blotting out the blue of the sky and the front of thick clouds rushing toward them, a heavy column of black smoke rose.

  “That’s too close to be the buildings in the Hollow.”

  “It’s the fields. They’re burning the crops in the fields.”

  Nineteen

  A TREMOR SHUDDERED THROUGH THE WAGON, a counterpoint to the mind-numbing clatter of the wheels on the paved road, and brought Kara out of her light daze. As had happened during every earthquake since the quickening of the distortion over Tumbor three days before, shouts raced through the Kormanley group and the wagon ground to an abrupt halt. The enforcers closed in around it, while everyone else turned their attention to the gold-red-purple distortion that had grown on the horizon as they traveled.

  “What’s happening?” Adder reached to haul himself up from where he’d been sleeping into a seated position. He winced as he did so, his body still bruised from the fight. He raised a hand to the lump from the stone that had taken him down, still ugly, although the swelling had gone down appreciably.

  Dylan handed over a flagon of water. “Another tremor. Not as bad as those first few after the distortion, but enough to be felt.”

  “Are the White Cloaks behaving the same way?”

  “They’ve formed the circle, to the east this time.” Kara waved toward where the enforcers were clustered protectively around Iscivius and the others, Marcus at the center. He’d driven a staff twice as tall as he was with a metal spike on the end into the ground as far as he could, then reached out to the others in the circle. Now he stood with head bowed down, eyes closed, as if he were praying.

  “Any ideas at all about what they’re doing?”

  “I’ve been thinking about something Marcus said when they captured us, about the quakes redirecting the ley lines. I think they’re checking to see if anything’s changed since the last quake.”

  “So what’s with the spiked staff then?”

  “A divining rod of some sort, maybe.” Both Kara and Adder turned to face Dylan. He shrugged. “We used to search for sources of water using a forked branch. Why not search for the ley the same way?”

  “Like how Hernande and Cory use the sands. The rod helps them map the ley lines.”

  “It can’t possibly be as precise, though. The staff probably helps them travel the lines farther than they could if they were doing it individually. I don’t see how it could give them the entire picture.”

  “We could ask Carter.”

  Kara’s gaze flicked from Marcus to Carter, who stood in the circle with the White Cloaks, Iscivius on one side, Irmona on the other. Both of them had kept a close eye on Carter since Marcus had declared him part of their group, but Carter had kept his distance from Kara and the rest of them, never coming within twenty feet of the wagon, and he’d kept a low profile amongst the enforcers and the White Cloaks. Even Riley had stopped watching him, leaving it up to Iscivius.

  “I don’t think Carter would tell us, even if he were still speaking to us.”

  Marcus suddenly shuddered and raised his head. His eyes locked with hers for a moment, before turning away to stare at the distortion. Then he broke his contact with the circle of Wielders and yanked the staff from the ground. He handed it off to Okata and began issuing orders.

  “That was fast. They usually spend twice as long messing with that thing.”

  “Maybe there weren’t that many changes. It was a small quake.”

  “Somehow, I’m not reassured.”

  The circle of White Cloaks scattered, Okata and Irmona heading back to the lead wagon and horses with Marcus, the rest ranging throughout the group. The enforcers raced to new positions as well.

  Kara hesitated, then made for the back of the wagon.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I want to talk to Marcus.”

  But before she could climb down from the wagon, Riley grabbed her by the arm and thrust her back. Caught off guard—they’d been allowed out of the wagon to walk at various times over the past
three days—she fell onto her ass, her elbow striking a crate with a painful jolt. Adder edged up to her side protectively.

  “I need to speak to Marcus.”

  “Not now.” Riley pointed at the wagon. “Stay here.”

  “Can we get out to walk?”

  “No, stay in the wagon. We’re almost to the Needle.”

  He stalked away, two other enforcers stepping up to take his place. They motioned them away from the edge of the wagon bed, and both Adder and Kara shifted backward.

  As soon as they rejoined Dylan and Aaron at the back, Adder said, “Riley was afraid of something.”

  “So were the White Cloaks. They were moving with a little more urgency than usual.”

  “Riley said we were getting close to the Needle. Maybe that’s it.”

  No one responded.

  The wagon lurched into motion again, Aaron straightening enough that he could see ahead of them. “Look.”

  Kara, Adder, and Dylan shifted position so they could see over the driver’s bench and around the driver and his enforcer guard. The guard glanced back at them, but said nothing.

  Ahead of them, to the south, a thin spire rose out of the plains, black with a cold sheen to its sides, like obsidian. It cut into the horizon and blue sky like a blade, edged, and as the wagon rose over a small hillock in the plains they could see down into a wide, shallow depression at the spire’s base. It rose from a massive, three-tiered temple that gleamed a dusky granite gray, stark against the yellow grasses and reddish soil of the land surrounding it. The temple exuded age, obviously built by masons, not Wielders, with stone quarried from a distance and carted here. The labor involved without the use of the ley to mold the stone must have been immense.