Marcus’ gaze didn’t waver, although Kara noticed beads of sweat on his brow. “We take it to the pit.” He began to move, cautiously, one foot before the other. As he passed Kara, he said, “Everyone should be ready to hold the other crystals. I don’t know how they’ll react when we introduce the new one.”
Kara gestured to Okata and Carter, the two slipping around to either side of the pit. Her gaze fell on Irmona, Iscivius still unconscious beside her, but the Wielder merely glared at her, one hand resting protectively on Iscivius’ chest. Kara stepped up behind Marcus as he neared the edge, the ley and the other six crystals before him.
“Ready?”
“Yes,” she said. “What are you going to d—”
Without warning, he tossed the crystal into the ley fountaining up from below.
Kara gasped. Okata cursed.
As soon as the crystal hit the ley it was caught in its flows, carried upward toward the rest of the crystals. The ley interacted with it instantly, refracted, and bent into new pathways. The repercussions of the new flows struck the old crystals within a few breaths, setting most of them spinning. Okata swore again, one hand rising unconsciously as he tried to control those nearest to him. Kara struggled with her own as Marcus muttered, “I’ve got the new crystal, you take care of the rest.”
“I’m trying,” Kara answered through gritted teeth. The entire Nexus shuddered as all four of them attempted to bring the seven crystals into a new alignment. But none of them had ever dealt with seven crystals at once. Every subtle movement caused a cascading effect, jolting the other six crystals into new gyrations. As soon as one crystal steadied, another moved, pushing the first out of place. It was a delicate dance, every moment on the cusp of collapse. Kara’s muscles pulled taut, even though she wasn’t moving, her body bracing for an explosion that she would have no hope of surviving. She sensed Marcus shifting the seventh crystal into place beneath the other six where Iscivius had said it should be placed, and as soon as it was centered, the chaos of the entire system halved.
She exhaled sharply, drew in a still tense but more relaxed breath, and said, “Hold it there, Marcus. Don’t let it move. Okata, steady those two, then shift the one on the right upward. Now tilt it toward the pit. Yes, like that.”
“I’ve got it,” he said, voice tight with effort.
“Carter, position the one on your right downward. Mirror Okata’s positions.” She wanted to reach out and help the younger Wielder, but she didn’t. He was touchy about receiving help, especially from her, still harboring some resentment of her position, elevated even more here at the Needle than it had been before at the Hollow. “Good.”
Then she focused on her own crystals, bringing one up and the other down to the same heights as Okata’s and Carter’s, so that the panes alternated up and down around a rough circle, with the seventh centered below.
As soon as her last crystal slid into place, tilted just so, the entire diamond-shaped structure stabilized and all four of the Wielders exhaled in relief. Kara’s shoulders slumped, head bowed, tension flowing off her in waves. Her body felt clammy with sweat, her knees weak.
But she dragged her head up when she heard someone tearing down the steps of the pit behind her. “Artras.”
The elder Wielder, followed by two others, reached the base of the steps and headed straight for Kara, her eyes wide and wild, fixed on the Nexus. “What happened? I felt the ley shuddering. I came directly here.”
“Was there a quake?”
“No. No quake. But we could still feel it from within the temple.”
The two Wielders behind her nodded in agreement, spreading out to either side to survey the Nexus. One of them gasped. “You created another crystal!”
“I didn’t,” Kara corrected. “Iscivius did.”
Everyone turned to where the Wielder lay unconscious on the stone of the pit.
“I can’t wake him,” Irmona said accusingly.
Now that the Nexus was stable again, concern bubbled up in Kara’s chest. “You can’t?” She moved forward, Artras walking next to her, while Marcus was already kneeling at Iscivius’ side. He checked the Wielder over, leaning forward to listen at his mouth and chest, then shook him and patted his cheek, tentatively at first, then harder.
“He’s still breathing,” he said, “but I’m not getting any other reaction from him.”
“Okata and Marcus, gather him up. Irmona—” She’d been about to send her off to find a healer, but the stubborn set of her jaw forced her to change her mind. “Lead them back to Iscivius’ room. I’ll send Carter for a healer. Artras—”
“I’ll take care of the Nexus. Go. Get Morrell, if you can find her. She’ll know what to do.”
Carter had already raced up the curved steps to the Needle above. Okata and Marcus were shouldering Iscivius into a standing position, his body obviously dead weight. Arms draped over their shoulders, they hauled him toward the steps, Irmona leading the way.
Kara followed.
At the top of the stairs, she glanced back at the new configuration, the power of the ley pulsing through her, and smiled for what felt like the first time in over a month.
They were finally doing something.
Eight
“—THEN I REACHED INTO HIS CHEST and squeezed his heart,” Morrell said. Her hand drifted forward, as if she’d actually seized the man’s heart with her hand and not her power, her fingers curled. “I squeezed it, and he went rigid. I could have killed him. With a little more pressure, I could have ruptured his heart. He would have dropped dead at my feet.”
Hernande shifted in his seat beside her and she glanced up in time to see the University mentor raising an eyebrow at Cory, who sat across from him, on Morrell’s other side.
But then Hernande turned his attention to Morrell. “But you didn’t kill him, did you? You stopped yourself.”
Morrell let her hand drop. “Cerrin charged in and knocked me free of him. And then Drayden was there to protect me. I didn’t have the chance. I don’t know what I’d have done otherwise. The man was hurting me.”
Hernande gripped her shoulder—the one the man hadn’t wrenched—and met her eyes. “You would have done what was necessary. The fact that you hesitated tells me that. If he hadn’t let you go, you would have forced him to. I doubt you would have killed him. You’re a healer, after all.”
“But I could have.”
Hernande squeezed her shoulder, then released her, rising. They sat outside, in the sunlight, in the stellae garden that surrounded the base of the black Needle, Drayden standing behind her. “Yes, you could have. That is one of the dangers of power. Any kind of power. It can be used in a variety of ways—for healing, for protection, to fight, and to kill. Look at the ley. Before the Shattering, it was used to power the ley barges and the flyers, transporting people across Erenthrall or farther, to other Baronial cities or the world beyond. But Lecrucius used it here at the Needle to destroy the Gorrani army.” He faced her, a breeze tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. “And then there’s the Tapestry.”
“What do you mean? I’ve never heard of any of the University students or mentors doing anything like what Lecrucius did.”
Hernande looked at Cory, whose eyes had gone wide. “Tell her,” the mentor said. “Based on what she’s told us, she deserves to know.”
“You remember at the Hollow, before the attack by the fake Baron and his raiders?” When Morrell nodded, Cory drew in a steadying breath. “Before they attacked, we discovered we could use the Tapestry to cause small explosions. You probably remember us practicing the knots on the hills and trees around the caverns where we hid.”
“I remember everyone complaining that you were driving away all of the game.”
“I’m certain we did.” His smile faltered and his gaze fell to his hands, his fingers playing with the hem of his shirt where a few strand
s of stitching had come loose. He twisted the strands between his fingers as he said, “When they finally attacked, I ran to the village. I ran into one of their guards just outside the cottages. I used one of the knots to kill him.” Cory glanced up. “I released it inside his chest, a tiny little knot in his heart.”
Morrell recoiled, eyes wide, mouth open. Hernande watched her from behind Cory, nodded quietly to her when she shot him a questioning look.
She never would have thought Cory could do such a thing.
And when she turned back, Cory was once again looking down, head bowed. “I tried it again when one of the raiders attacked me in the village, but it didn’t work. At least, not as cleanly. The knot exploded in the man’s arm, nearly tore it from his body. After that . . .” He sucked in a deep breath and met Morrell’s gaze again, his expression open and frank. “After that, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t release the knots inside anyone else. I can’t. I won’t.”
“Won’t and can’t are strong terms,” Hernande said. “Don’t make promises you cannot guarantee you can keep.” But even as he said the words, he eyed Morrell. He’d begun stroking his beard. “You made yourself similar promises, didn’t you?”
Morrell thought back over what she’d done since she’d seized the man’s heart, then shook her head. “No. I healed those at the hospital that I could, and then I came to find you.”
“Perhaps you are more like your father than I thought.”
Morrell stiffened, but before she could protest, he continued.
“The point is, Morrell, that we all have power, and with that power comes responsibility, because power—no matter what form it takes—can always be used to do good or unspeakable evil, to heal or to harm. Declaring that you will never use your power to harm may be morally correct, but it isn’t practical.” He motioned to Cory. “Cory found out that the Tapestry could be used to kill, in horrifying ways, but he discovered he disliked it.” Cory shuddered, unable to meet Morrell’s eyes. “That dislike is laudable, even exemplary, but it shouldn’t be taken to its extreme. Sometimes, situations arise in which those horrifying and terrible techniques are required.”
Morrell shifted on the stone. “What do you mean?” She agreed with Hernande—she’d been raised by those that lived in the Hollow, where hard choices were sometimes necessary, such as killing the milk cow for her meat in order to survive the winter or cutting off a gangrenous foot before the rot spread—but wasn’t certain she understood exactly what Hernande was trying to say.
“He means sometimes doing something horrible is necessary,” Cory said. “At one point, I could have killed Baron Aurek. He and his men had already attacked the Hollow, but maybe if I had killed him then, we wouldn’t have lost so many when we attacked the Needle.”
Hernande placed a hand on Cory’s shoulder. “No. At the time, killing Aurek wasn’t the only option. Second-guessing events that have already taken place is unproductive. What I mean is that sometimes there are no other options. When we attacked the Needle, our forces were scattered by the quake. Aurek caught your father and me off guard during the chaos. He had his sword pointed at your father’s back. Your father would never have been able to draw his own blade in defense before Aurek shoved the sword through his spine. There were no other options, except to let Aurek kill your father. So I released a knot in Aurek’s chest and killed him.”
Morrell pressed her lips together. Her father hadn’t told her—not the part about having a sword at his back. He’d simply said Hernande had killed Aurek during the attack. Perhaps he’d simply forgotten. Much had happened during the attack on the Needle and the move from the Hollow that followed.
More likely, he’d simply not wanted Morrell to know how close he’d come to dying.
Behind them, the doors into the main part of the temple suddenly opened and the chattering of a half dozen people filtered through the stellae around them, headed in their direction. A moment later, Jerrain, Sovaan, and four University students emerged from between the stones, the younger students stopping short when they saw Morrell. The elderly but spry Jerrain barely blinked an eye, but the administrator Sovaan frowned in disapproval after a moment’s hesitation, heading directly toward Hernande.
“I thought we were to have a practice session outside with our students today. What is she doing here?”
Morrell bristled, but Hernande didn’t react at all. He simply stared at her, still stroking his beard in thought. “We do have a session, Sovaan. Followed by an hour’s lecture afterward inside.” A few of the students groaned. “Morrell had come to me with some concerns. We were simply discussing them here, while enjoying the sunlight and stellae gardens.”
Morrell drew breath to say she could leave, but Hernande shook his head minutely, turning to face Sovaan for the first time since he’d arrived. “I’m certain you’ve heard of Morrell’s healing abilities?”
“Of course, I have. I can’t say that I believe it, but—”
“It appears that her ability extends beyond that of healing the body,” Hernande interrupted. Morrell’s heart seized in her chest; she didn’t want anyone else to know what she’d done to the man at the hospital. “A few weeks ago, at my prodding, she repaired a crack in a small stone. I’ve been working with her since, off and on, when her duties allow, with Cory’s help. But I think . . . yes, I think we should begin training her with the other students. I believe she could use the guidance of mentors . . . and that she should learn the principles expected of University students—the morals and codes that we ascribe to uphold. I believe she would find them beneficial.”
Morrell’s heart began beating again. Jerrain raised an eyebrow at Hernande and turned his attention in her direction.
Sovaan spluttered. “But we know nothing of her power! How can we be expected to help her?”
Jerrain cackled. “I think that’s precisely the point, Sovaan. We know nothing . . . and neither does anyone else. There’s no one to guide her.” He made his way toward her, cane thudding into the ground. He eyed her up and down, so close she could smell the fried onions and peppers on his breath from his lunch.
“If there’s no one else to guide her,” Hernande said as she endured Jerrain’s inspection, “and no one else who knows the depths of her power, then shouldn’t it fall to us to take her in? To learn what we can—for her sake as well as ours?”
“We can’t have an unknown power such as hers roaming free,” Jerrain said, shaking the end of his cane at her chest. His words were harsh, but there was a humorous glint in his eye. “Who knows what havoc she can wreak?”
Sovaan glanced from Hernande to Jerrain and back again. “Bah!” he muttered, waving a hand in dismissal. “Do what you want with her. I don’t teach first years anyway, haven’t for at least a decade. She’s your responsibility.” He motioned toward two of the other students. “Jasom, Tara, come with me. Let’s see how well you studied Knudsen’s Theorem and its five corollaries.”
“Be careful with the use of the ley,” Hernande warned. “The Wielders have been extremely active inside the Needle for the last few hours.”
Sovaan continued as if he hadn’t heard them, already grilling his two students with rapid-fire questions.
Jerrain dropped his cane to the ground. “Something new?” he asked.
Hernande frowned. “Something different, at least. Requiring a significant amount of power.”
“Hmm,” the elder mentor said, casting curious eyes on the black spire beside them. “I wonder what Kara is up to.” But almost as swiftly, he turned back to Morrell. “I believe you have something to show us? You can fuse stone? I’d like to see this in person. Cory, find a stone with a crack in it. Keller, help him.”
The two immediately began searching the surrounding area, at which Jerrain sighed in exasperation and said, “No, no, not here. Kara would have us skinned alive if we shifted a single stone in these gardens. Something about
the energy lines. You’ll have to find one in the temple.”
The remaining student—a girl only slightly older than Morrell named Mirra—sidled closer to her and muttered, “Welcome to the University . . . such as it is.”
As soon as the thin black spire of the Needle appeared on the horizon of the plains to the west, Cutter kicked his horse into a run. Behind him, he heard Marc bellow an angered question, could imagine the guard’s disgust when he was ignored. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and found the four guardsmen a short distance behind, keeping pace.
After that, he kept his eyes on the Needle, watched it steadily draw nearer.
It took another two hours to reach the ridge of earth that surrounded the city beneath the Needle. Only then did Cutter relax, allowing his horse to slow. He’d feared that they would arrive too late to warn Kara and the others, that they would find the Needle a smoking ruin and the grassland surrounding the outer wall drenched in blood like the last settlement they’d seen. The last of many.
Marc and the others caught up to him, their own mounts lathered with sweat. Marc shot him a disgruntled look.
“I was afraid we’d be too late,” Cutter said.
“It’s still here,” Marc said, only slightly mollified. “Let’s go see if they have something to eat besides rabbit.”
He nudged his horse ahead of Cutter’s. The others followed suit.
When they reached the gates, they were halted by the guardsmen, until Marc protested and one of the other enforcers recognized him. Cutter felt a prickling in his shoulders. As the two spoke, he glanced around, eyeing the guards and the men and women who passed in and out of the gates. Carts were being searched, mounds of hay stabbed with swords, crates and barrels opened. The searches were perfunctory, but no one was simply passed through. Everyone was questioned. He overheard two guards asking a couple about the Kormanley and whether they knew anything about the rioters in the plaza. The couple looked confused. Another man denied knowing anything about some type of snake-dog drawing. The enforcer showed him a sketch made on a sheet of parchment, but the man merely shook his head. The guard didn’t appear to believe him, but passed the man through the gate along with the pelts he carried in a large heap over one shoulder. There were even a couple of Wolves watching everything on either side of the gates.
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