Reaping the Aurora

by Joshua Palmatier

  “What did you see?” Darius asked.

  Dalton shifted his gaze toward him. For a moment, a dagger jutted from Darius’ chest, blood coating the front of his armor, but then the dagger blurred and vanished.

  “The land has broken to the west. The center of the Demesnes has . . . has risen. It’s created an escarpment a few thousand feet high.”

  “So it was a quake,” the captain said.

  “No. This is more significant. The land has begun tearing itself apart.”

  The look of horror on the captain’s face was almost comical. “What . . . what can we do about it?”

  Dalton forced his features into a calm expression. “Nothing. We must wait and see what Korma intends.”

  The captain glanced toward Darius for reassurance, but Darius merely bowed his head and stared at the floor. The captain turned and walked stiffly toward the door to stand with his guards.

  “Is there truly nothing that can be done?” Darius asked. “Iscivius—”

  “You would have the Wielders attempt to repair the damage with the ley? That is what Kara preached, and look where it has driven us. No, we can do nothing about the ley except pray that it repairs itself before destroying us all. We have a more pressing issue.” He tapped the table near their representation of the Gorrani. Nearly all of the markers for the Gorrani had gathered in one spot, a day’s march from the Needle. “They’ve gathered. They will arrive tomorrow. Go to the Wielder’s pit, find Iscivius, and tell him it is time.”

  Darius hesitated, jaw clenched, then bowed his head and departed, moving swiftly.

  Dalton returned to the map, leaning forward as he scanned the escarpment that the others could not see. “May Korma protect us.”

  Hernande dabbed at the blood that had seeped from one ear with a wet cloth as he, Marcus, and Lienta emerged onto the roof of the embassy in the Temerite quarter of the Needle. They were escorted by three watchmen.

  All three of them immediately scanned the rest of the Needle across the chasm. Fire lit the base of a column of smoke in one area and there were occasional screams and the panicked braying of animals—all muffled and softened by the damage to Hernande’s ear—but the ley globes on the outer walls were still lit and the Needle itself appeared untouched. Figures moved in the streets, but it was difficult to tell whether they were citizens or enforcers or both.

  “It doesn’t appear that the noise was caused by Dalton,” Marcus said. The Wielder tilted his head and shook it, as if trying to rattle something loose. “Not that we thought so to begin with.”

  “Those on the wall report it came from the west,” Lienta said.

  They all turned in that direction, but the night cloaked everything beyond the wall. Only the stars could be seen overhead. Even those would be obscured soon if the storm raging to the east came in their direction.

  Hernande looked up, resisting the urge to massage his left ear. “Look at that.”

  Both Marcus and Lienta followed his line of sight, gazing up into the night sky. A single point of light blazed brighter than the rest, trailing a faint tail behind it.

  “That can’t be a distortion, can it?” Lienta asked sharply.

  “I don’t think anything can be ruled out now,” Hernande said, “but it’s not a distortion. It’s a comet. The one depicted in the orrery at the temple. It’s close enough to be visible now.”

  Both Marcus’ and Lienta’s shoulders relaxed.

  “Then it’s nothing we need to worry about.” Lienta leaned forward onto the edge of the wall. “We’ll send some scouts out to the west to see if we can determine what caused that grating noise.”

  “Do we have the men to spare?” Marcus asked.

  “We have enough to hold the wall and the chasm if necessary.”

  “And are we ready for our attack?” Marcus turned to Hernande. “Are you ready?”

  Hernande didn’t drop his gaze from the comet. He realized he was chewing on the end of his beard and forced himself to stop, began pulling on it instead. In a distracted voice, he answered, “I’ll be ready.”

  Marcus hesitated, then faced Lienta. They began discussing the preparations for the excursion into the Needle and how they intended to get into the pit. Hernande lowered his gaze and stared at the stone roof, calculations racing through his head.

  After a moment, he grunted and shot another glance toward the comet. “It’s going to be on its closest approach the day of the attack. But is it significant or just coincidence?”

  “What was that, Hernande?” Lienta asked.

  Hernande waved a hand in dismissal. “It is nothing. Merely that the gods meddle in mysterious ways.”

  Both Marcus and Lienta looked confused.

  Then the watchmen in their escort began to shout, drawing their attention toward the east again. White ley fountained up beyond the Needle’s far wall, a plume at first, but then it began to spread, reaching out to either side. It rose to a height half again as tall as the wall itself and it continued to encircle the Needle.

  “What in hells is it?” Lienta asked.

  Hernande suddenly realized Lienta had been in Erenthrall during the last attack on the Needle. “It’s a wall of ley.”

  “Prime Lecrucius used it to halt the Gorrani attack, at Dalton’s order,” Marcus added. “It killed thousands of them.”

  “This could change everything,” Hernande said, stepping forward sharply. “If they use it to seal off their section of the Needle—”

  But even as he spoke, the spreading ley reached the chasm. Instead of following the chasm, separating Dalton’s section from that taken over by the Temerites, as Hernande had feared, it continued on across, joining up with the wall on the far side.

  Hernande sighed in relief.

  Lienta spun and shouted, “Get everyone off the walls! Now!”

  Half of their escort charged to the stairs, already shouting orders ahead of them. Hernande didn’t think they’d reach the walls before the ley finished forming, but he merely said, “I don’t think those on the walls are at risk. It appears that Dalton is repeating what he did before. The ley is merely encircling the Needle.”

  “I don’t trust Dalton or his Wielders,” Lienta said. “We’ll retreat from the walls for now. Wait and see.”

  Marcus had edged up to Hernande’s side. “It does beg the question, though: who’s creating the wall of ley? None of the Wielders we left behind were strong enough, even if they had seen Lecrucius’ construction.”

  Hernande grabbed his upper arm. They both said at the same time, “Iscivius.”

  “He must have woken up from his coma,” Marcus said, then swore. “That means I’ll have to deal with him when I reach the pit. Damn, damn, damn.”

  “Will it be a problem?” Lienta asked.

  Marcus considered, then drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “No. No, I can deal with Iscivius. It simply means I’ll have to be more on guard.”

  Behind them, the two edges of the wall of ley connected, sealing them in.

  Kara, Allan, and Grant reached the edges of the cliffs overlooking Erenthrall midmorning two days later. Grant had sent the Wolves into the cracked lands that surrounded the city to find a path down to where Erenthrall had sunk, but the others had decided to dismount and scout from the heights while they waited.

  “Oh, gods,” Kara said. She shaded her eyes against the glare of the sun overhead and the harsh white light of the ley shooting up from the center of what used to be Grass in huge spumes. In a weak, sickened voice, she added, “It’s changed so much since we were captured by the White Cloaks.”

  Allan removed a spyglass from his pack and focused it on the center of Erenthrall. “It looks like it’s spewing directly out of the old Nexus. I can see the edges of the old crystal dome through the sheared towers.” He shifted the glass around. “The nearest streets are flooded w
ith ley. It’s running off on all sides. The surrounding land doesn’t reabsorb it for at least ten blocks.”

  “That means that the ley is concentrated and the land in that area is already saturated with it. It shouldn’t change our approach, though.”

  “This might. It looks like the Gorrani—no, not the Gorrani, the Haessan, the Gorrani that have been altered by the aurora into serpent creatures—have moved to the center of the city. I can see them in the streets.” He paused, then pulled the spyglass away from his eye. “It looks like they’ve surrounded the geyser. And there’s a heavier concentration of them around the University walls. I’d say they’re laying siege to it.”

  Kara held out her hand and Allan gave her the glass. She brought it up to her right eye, began fiddling with it. She wasn’t as skilled with its use as Allan, but she managed to find the center of Grass and the University. They were too distant for her to get a good look at the Haessan; they were merely blurred figures shifting through the streets.

  “Why would they do that?” Grant rumbled.

  “Last I knew, the Tunnelers had taken control of the University,” Allan answered.

  “They’re still there. I can see some of them on the walls.” Kara began lowering the spyglass, but movement caught her eye. She refocused, farther away from the confluence of the two rivers, where the University had been built. “The Haessan aren’t just near the center of the city. They’re farther out as well. I see a group of them in what used to be Tallow.”

  “Let me look again.”

  Kara handed the glass to Allan and stepped back to where Grant stood with arms crossed over his chest, the horses a few paces beyond.

  “I do not like this,” Grant said. “How will we get past these Haessan?” His lip curled in disdain at the name.

  Allan rejoined them. “That group you saw was a patrol. They have them scattered throughout the city. We’ll have to evade them as we approach.”

  “And what about those surrounding Grass? How are we going to sneak by them? They’re everywhere.”

  “We’ll find a way.”

  One of the Wolves trotted up to Grant and whined.

  “They’ve found a path down to the city,” he said. “Come.”

  The Wolf loped off ahead of them, Grant following immediately.

  Kara and Allan shared a look. “We only have six days to get to the Nexus,” she said.

  “I know.”

  They caught up to Grant and led their horses after the Wolf, following the edge of shattered roadway with the scattered remains of buildings on either side. This section of the old Erenthrall hadn’t been built up as much as the rest, so only a few walls remained standing, the rest merely piles of rubble. Already, the debris had begun to lose its shape, the edges worn off, the lines of walls and doorways merging with the surrounding land. In another ten years, it wouldn’t even be recognizable as a street or as buildings. It would simply be landscape.

  They bypassed numerous fissures, then followed a wide crevice until it began to narrow and eventually ended in a steep slope of rocky debris. One of the other Wolves waited for them there. Both led them down into the depths of the cracked land, over heaps of fallen sandstone and collapsed walls. The earth shook at one point, dirt and stone raining down from overhead, where the sky was a thin, jagged blade of blue. Kara cringed, an arm raised over her head protectively, reins held tight in her other hand, and alternately cursed and prayed until the quake stopped. Her limbs shook long after they’d continued moving on, the fear of being buried in a slide in one of the crevices too powerful to shrug off.

  After backtracking twice and taking too many turns and switchbacks for Kara to keep herself oriented, they emerged from the side of the thousand-foot cliff onto the edges of the sunken Erenthrall. It felt strange to step from rock-strewn sand and dirt onto a cobbled street with the walls of storefronts and houses on either side. Most had been damaged severely by the Shattering and the subsequent sinking of the city, but enough remained here to make the transition surreal. The third Wolf waited for them here, all three of them glancing back toward the three humans and their horses before jogging out onto the street ahead, heading straight toward Grass.

  Kara’s foot nudged something in the dust and she reached down and pulled a toy cart with a wooden horse attached from the dirt. A smudge of what looked like blood stained one broken wheel.

  She stood staring at the handcrafted cart until Allan touched her hand.

  “We need to move. Only six days, remember?”

  She glanced at the sky, surprised it was midafternoon. It had taken them half the day to get down to the city.

  She dropped the horse and cart. “Let’s go.”

  They mounted and headed down the street with Grant in the front, the Wolves breaking apart, one taking point, the other two vanishing to either side. They moved swiftly, pausing only to drink and eat and wipe the sweat from their foreheads. The only sounds were the clop of their horses’ shod feet or their own footfalls, the barking of wild dogs in the distance, and a low rumble that throbbed in Kara’s teeth. The presence of the ley prickled her skin, so powerful she could taste it, like metal against her tongue. At one point, one of the Wolves reappeared and warned them of people ahead—not the Haessan, but someone else—and Grant took them seven blocks north before turning back toward Grass. The buildings changed, from the rough storefronts and houses in that outer district to more solid brick-and-stone apartments. An entire block had been burned to the ground, reminding Kara of West Forks after the Shattering. Then they shifted again, to warehouses whose roofs had mostly collapsed, empty windows looking up onto blue sky.

  They dodged two more groups of scattered people and then slowed, keeping close to the buildings now, everyone on foot, leading their horses. The low rumble had increased in volume, and Kara realized with a shock it was the sound of the geyser, heard even from this distance. The sun had shifted, resting on top of the cliffs to the west, the area they’d traversed now steeped in black shadow, with only a few sections lit by torchlight where some straggling survivors lived. There was no sign of the ley globes Allan had reported being in use when he’d been here months earlier, but that made sense considering the state of the ley.

  Grant halted them in what had once been the Candle District, blocks from the Tiana riverbed. He drew them into an abandoned shop, the counters bare, only a few signs that it had once sold leather shoes scattered on the dust-covered floor.

  “The Haessan are close,” Grant said. He kept his voice low, but it was hard to soften the growl. He motioned toward the counters. “We should hide here, wait for the Wolves to return. Put the horses in the back room.”

  Allan led the horses through the inner door, returning a moment later. They settled in, Kara clearing a space to sit, tossing a few leather soles to one side, along with a shoe form. She tried to disturb the dust as little as possible. Across from her, Allan did the same, while Grant remained at the counter’s edge to keep watch outside.

  A short time later, the sunlight faded, the shop falling into a strange gray dusk. White light from the ley lit the street beyond the shop, brightening as the geyser fountained higher for a moment, then died down. Aside from the rumble of the geyser, the street had gone eerily silent.

  Kara shifted forward to say something to Allan, feet scraping across the floor, but Grant reached back and snapped his fingers in warning, his entire body bristling. One of the horses snorted, the sound muffled, then settled again.

  A breath later she heard the clink of metal against metal from out in the street beyond. She pressed her back against the counter, then leaned forward far enough she could peer around its other edge.

  A strong animal scent hit her first, a heavy musk, dry and spicy, almost like cinnamon. The Haessan moved into sight and she stifled a gasp. Like the Wolves, they retained some of their human form, standing upright, with arms that ended in f
ive-fingered talons, some of them gripping the hilts of curved Gorrani swords. But the humanity ended there. Their skin was scaled and patterned, like a snake, their necks protruding from their armor, rounding out into snouts, their eyes circular black pits. Forked tongues tasted the air as they passed, five in all.

  Then they were gone.

  Kara slumped back against the counter, exhaled slowly, but said nothing until Grant shifted toward them and said, “They’re gone.”

  “They’re . . . unspeakable.” She shuddered. “Why didn’t they scent us? Or the horses?”

  Grant shrugged. “The scent of leather in here is strong; it may have hidden us. And there are others living close by. Perhaps they thought we were part of that group.”

  Kara choked back a scream as a Wolf rounded the side of the counter. It eyed her with a cold inhuman stare, then huffed and focused on Grant. With a low growl and a few yips and whines, it reported in, then lowered itself onto its stomach, laying its head on its front paws.

  “She says the Haessan are everywhere. They control all the bridges leading across the rivers. There’s no way to cross without them seeing us.”

  Nineteen

  “WE HAVE TO GET ACROSS!” Kara said, half rising. “Morrell and Marcus expect us to be there!”

  “Hush,” Allan said, holding up a hand to halt her. “We’ve got five days to figure it out.”

  “No, we don’t. We’ve got four days. I need to be in the Nexus on the fifth day, because who knows when Marcus will manage to get into the Nexus at the Needle, or how long he can hold it.”

  “Agreed, but charging out into the middle of the Haessan and getting killed or captured isn’t a good option either. We need to rest and think.”

  “While you rest, my Wolves will keep an eye on the Haessan,” Grant said. “They can keep track of their patrols, get close enough, unseen, that perhaps they can find a way past them all.”