Threading the Needle

by Joshua Palmatier

  The temple and spire were surrounded by a ring of more mundane buildings built long afterward, with a city of tents around those. Spire, temple, buildings, and tents were enclosed by a circular stone wall. Blazing white banners flew from the walls and the temple, and they could clearly see guards, especially near the northern gates. More people were milling about inside the enclosure. Smoke rose from a few cook fires and chimneys, but Kara felt her skin prickling with the ley. She gasped as she recognized ley globes floating at various points around the ramparts, like those that had sat on the walls of the University in Erenthrall, although none of them were currently lit. They didn’t need to be; it was midafternoon, the sun high. But based on the power she could already feel emanating from the enclosure, they’d be lit by dusk.

  “That has to be the Needle.”

  “It’s a damn fortress.”

  “No. It’s a node. An active node.” Kara tried to shift closer for a better view. “And based on what I can feel coming from it right now, it’s the focus of all of the ley lines in the area.”

  “Like the Nexus?”

  Kara grabbed the front of Dylan’s shirt in one fist. “It’s exactly like the Nexus. Remember all of the nodes and ley lines we found in and around Erenthrall?” Dylan nodded, one hand holding her wrist now, although he wasn’t struggling. “They were channeling the ley in an odd direction. Not toward Erenthrall, but farther to the west.” She released Dylan, who slumped back against the crates they’d been using as seats. She shifted to stare out the back of the wagon toward the northeast, toward where the distortion over Erenthrall squatted on the horizon, dwarfed by the much larger—and much closer—distortion over Tumbor. “They’d been altered.”

  “Because of the Shattering.”

  “No! They’d been disrupted by the Shattering, but since then they’d shifted. We thought it was because the ley lines were trying to stabilize somehow, to return to some sort of natural order, and I think that’s true. But they couldn’t, because the distortion blocked the ancient nodes in Erenthrall, like the one in Halliel’s Park.”

  “But that’s not the case.” She could tell Adder still hadn’t made the connection to the Needle yet.

  “The ley lines we found in Erenthrall haven’t been rerouting themselves. They’ve been redirected on purpose. By the White Cloaks. They’re creating their own Nexus here at the Needle, channeling all of the ley lines to this one point.”

  “And if they’re right that the quakes are side effects of the ley lines reorienting—”

  “Then the reason they check them after every quake is to make certain some of them haven’t shifted their direction elsewhere.”

  They all considered this in stunned silence, the wagon bouncing as they crested the rise and began to descend toward the Needle. Ahead of them, a contingent of mounted enforcers raced ahead of the group, Kara assumed to announce their imminent arrival.

  Another thought struck. “The quickening of the distortion over Tumbor must have wreaked havoc with the system. It must have cut off a significant number of ley lines connected to the Needle. The quakes must be those ley lines attempting to adjust, now that the nodes in Tumbor have been blocked.”

  “And if what happened after the distortion in Erenthrall is any indication, the quakes are going to continue, possibly become even more violent.”

  “That must be why the quakes around Erenthrall weakened in the last few months. The Kormanley stabilized the area by shunting the lines here.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense. The Kormanley were trying to destroy the Nexus. They wanted the ley returned to its natural order. Why would they be creating their own Nexus now?”

  Kara drew breath to answer, but held it when she realized Adder was right. It didn’t make sense. “I don’t know. Maybe they realized that the ley wasn’t stabilizing itself because the natural nodes were blocked, so they were trying to fix it themselves.” But that didn’t feel right either. She shook her head, more confused now than before. “Whatever it is they’re trying to do, they need more Wielders. And now that Tumbor has quickened, they likely need them more than ever.”

  The wagon jolted and Kara grabbed the back of the driver’s bench to steady herself. The enforcer there jerked. “Sit back down and stay there, unless you want to lose a hand.” He shifted his own hand to the hilt of his sword for emphasis.

  Kara pulled back, settling in next to Adder, Dylan and Aaron across from them. Both Dylan and Adder looked thoughtful, both churning over what they’d realized about the White Cloaks now that they’d seen the Needle and had some idea of what it was.

  “What’s going to happen to us once we reach the Needle?”

  Kara didn’t answer Aaron. Carter had probably already told Iscivius and Marcus that Aaron was just one of the Hollowers, there to help them with the horses and wagons. What did they do with those who couldn’t control the ley?

  Shouts rang out as they approached the gates, enforcers on the wall ordering those below to get out of the way. A bell clanged, atonal, as if it were cracked, announcing their arrival. Kara strained to see ahead of them, but the enforcer next to the driver ordered her back down again. She could still see out to the sides where a line of enforcers had formed, holding a group of men, women, and children back so that the wagons could pass through. The enforcers wore the same red shirts and black breeches as those that had captured them, although they were cleaner, but the people all wore clothing like what Kara had seen throughout the Eld and Stone Districts in Erenthrall before the Shattering. The cloth was faded and worn, but it had been cleaned recently. The people appeared healthy and well fed, and all of them were pointing excitedly toward the White Cloaks, Marcus in particular, their faces lit from within with a mixture of awe and hope, as if they were witnessing one of the lords or Barons walking amongst them. Most of them carried baskets or bundles of cloth or were loaded down with crates on their shoulders.

  “They look prosperous.”

  “More so than even those of us from the Hollow.” Certainly more so than the groups Kara had seen scattered throughout Erenthrall.

  “Maybe this Father they’re all talking about isn’t as bad as we think.”

  “Erenthrall was prosperous, too, but everyone was still beneath the Baron’s heel.”

  As they passed into the shadow of the gate, Kara looked up. The stone archway was thick, at least ten feet wide, and riddled with small holes the size of her fist. The clop of the horses’ hooves echoed oddly inside, deadened slightly by the heavy wooden doors banded with iron that had been swung open on either side. They passed beneath a slit with the sharpened points of an iron gate hidden in the shadows. She’d seen such things throughout Erenthrall—in the University gates in Confluence, as decorative spikes on top of the walls surrounding the manors of the lords, even as motifs in the mezzanines of the ley stations—but all of those instances had been decorative, or on gates rusted with age or disuse.

  This gate had been cleaned, the spikes that drove into holes in the stone passing beneath them recently sharpened.

  They passed into the Needle’s courtyard.

  The open area beyond the gates was crowded with tents, like a marketplace, but as they progressed toward the buildings surrounding the temple and spire Kara realized that it wasn’t a market. The tents were homes, like what the refugees had used this past winter for shelter, except these tents appeared more permanent. Ley globes hovered inside the few that had open tent flaps, and she caught heating stones scattered both inside and out. They passed a ley-heated oven, shimmering with heat as a baker reached into the central chamber with a long wooden paddle and pulled out two fresh loaves. A shift in the breeze brought the heavy aroma of the bread, making Kara’s stomach clench with a sharp pang of hunger as her mouth filled with saliva. Dylan craned his neck around to catch sight of the oven. More scents assaulted them as they pressed deeper into the tents—the spicy sizzle
of roasting meat, both fowl and something juicier, like boar; the tang of lye and soap; the stench of butchering; and the reek of manure and livestock. It was as if all of the districts of Erenthrall had been trapped behind the walls. A man herding five goats and a sheep fell in behind them for a time. Children raced around them, staying clear of Riley and the enforcers but otherwise running wild. A woman outside one tent stirred a deep pot of what smelled like beef stew, singing quietly to herself. A gaggle of two elderly women and a young girl were seated around pile of clothes, stitching. Two men were working on repairing a yoke and set of traces.

  And scattered through them all, she caught sight of at least five other White Cloaks.

  “It’s unbelievable.” Dylan couldn’t mask the longing in his voice. “They all act as if nothing has happened, that nothing has changed.”

  “How did they get here? Where did they come from? This must have been a node before the Shattering. Or a junction, where the ley lines met before diverging toward Tumbor and the Demesnes to the west, possibly even the Horn to the south. It would have held maybe twenty Wielders for maintenance, their families, maybe enough others to call it a town if it was a waypost for the ley barges. Not this many people.”

  “They must have come here after the Shattering. Fled here, as we fled to the Hollow.”

  Kara sank back into the wagon. “This is exactly what I wanted for Erenthrall. I wanted to heal the distortion, stabilize the Nexus there, rebuild Grass and the central districts so that people could return.” She gazed around the thriving tent city in shock. “The Kormanley did this?”

  No one answered. Their cart trundled through the throng, everyone as stunned as Kara.

  “Where are they getting all of their food?” They passed by a spit containing three succulent, charred hares. Dylan’s gaze followed them with his eyes. “I didn’t see any fields as we approached, or any barns with stock grazing the grassland.”

  “Because they don’t have any.”

  Dylan and Aaron looked at her in confusion, but she could see Adder had already figured it out.

  “They’re getting it from the cities—Erenthrall and Tumbor. They must have been raiding both since the Shattering, but they had more people and were more organized. That must be why the resources in Erenthrall became so scarce so quickly. Remember the shards we found that had already been healed? They have Wielders. They must be raiding the shards for supplies, like us. And they were trading us for food. The Tunnelers wanted the supplies that were in these wagons.” She patted the crates around them, most of which contained sacks of grain and nuts, linens and cloth, and glass jars of canned goods. Nothing perishable over the short term, or that would spoil because of heat. “Just like the Baron. The White Cloaks stole everything and are now using it to control everyone.”

  “Are they letting everyone come here?” Dylan asked, then answered his own question. “No, they can’t be. The Hollow had already reached its capacity. They must have hit theirs here as well.”

  “That’s why the Tunnelers were trading for food. Recall they didn’t seem happy about it.”

  “They must not know where the White Cloaks are located, or where they’re getting their food. And they’re desperate enough to follow the White Cloaks’ rules.” Marcus’ rules, Kara thought. Or at least those of this Father he spoke of.

  She wondered how many of the factions who lived in Erenthrall were being forced to deal with the White Cloaks. She couldn’t imagine the Rats trading for food or allowing anyone to control them in such a way. But the Temerites? What about the groups to the south and east of the distortion—the Gorrani and the others?

  How many groups had there been in Tumbor before its distortion quickened?

  Kara didn’t notice they’d passed beyond the tents into the central part of the node until a shadow fell across her. She glanced up at the stone buildings to either side and the alleys and streets between them. She hadn’t realized how noisy the outside square had been. There were still people in the streets, but the structures blocked most of the shouts and conversations. Windows were lit with ley globes and the warmer light of candles, reminiscent of Erenthrall before the Shattering. The buildings were only a few stories high, their architecture from decades earlier, before the Wielders had created the Nexus in Erenthrall and begun sowing their own towers and basing their construction on the ley. They reminded Kara of her flat in Eld, where she’d grown up, except these were even older, more like the dormitories at the University or the old Baron’s manse at the University’s heart.

  Her gaze swept over the people on the street, to the shadowy figures seen through a few of the open windows, and then up toward the black spire that towered over them all. It reached into the sky, but not as high as the towers of Grass in Erenthrall. This was only a node, the spire marking the location of the junction of the ley in this area. It was only as high as the supporting towers of the Flyers’ Tower had been. Still, its perfectly flat, glossy black surface sent a shudder through Kara’s shoulders. It was narrow and thinned to a fine point, with no visible openings or balconies. It reminded her of the spikes on the gates, honed to an exquisite sharpness.

  The wagon jerked to a halt, and Riley suddenly appeared at the back with six other enforcers.

  “Out.” He motioned with one hand, the other on his sword.

  All four of them hesitated, but then Adder pushed Kara forward, hand on her shoulder. “Try not to get separated.”

  Kara slid to the end of the wagon’s bed and off, Riley stepping back. Adder jumped down behind her. Dylan and Aaron followed, Dylan leaning heavily on Aaron’s shoulder.

  “Can’t you get something he can use to help him walk?” Kara asked.

  Riley flicked a dismissive look toward Dylan. “No.”

  He whistled and beat the back of the wagon with the palm of his hand. The driver pulled away, shouting to clear the way.

  They were in a small square before a wide series of steps that led up to the temple that surrounded the Needle. This close, Kara could see that the temple itself was older than even the outer ring of buildings, the stone pocked. It dawned on her that it really was a temple, probably erected before the Barons came to power on the plains, certainly before Baron Arent seized control. Which meant this was one of the natural ley nodes, a source of power for the ley system before Prime Wielder Augustus created the Nexus in Erenthrall and subverted the ley for his own uses. The architecture was riddled with symbols and stone carvings, but before Kara could do more than take in that each tier’s edge was lined with statues of birds and beasts Riley shoved her forward, motioning toward where Marcus and the other White Cloaks clustered at the base of the stairs.

  The square bustled with activity, mostly enforcers. A group trained off to one side, men and women working through parries, blocks, and stances without swords, focused on form. Another group sat cleaning, sharpening, and repairing weapons, armor, and tack. Based on the enforcers entering the building behind them, Kara thought it must have been a barracks, the men roughhousing and joking with each other, some already removing uniforms. A few paused outside near a barrel, using the water to scrub the grime off their faces. They’d obviously been outside the walls. Those at the barrel appeared shaken, unlike those that had already entered the building.

  A breeze brought the scent of mutton and roasted vegetables from the opposite side of the square, where a cook stepped out of a doorway to toss a bucket of slop into another barrel. The sounds of a mess hall filtered out the door, along with the clatter of pans, dishes, and cutlery.

  They reached Marcus and the others.

  “—the distortion’s edge about five days’ hard ride to the southeast,” an enforcer was saying as they halted a short distance away. His back was stiff, his tone formal, his face and uniform covered in dust and dirt. Kara could smell his sweat from where she stood a few paces behind Iscivius. Carter glanced toward her from his position be
tween Irmona and Okata, but quickly dropped his gaze to the ground. “The distortion completely engulfed Tumbor and everyone inside it, along with a radius of nearly twenty miles on either side.”

  “Larger than we thought from our position to the north. What about our own men? How many did we lose?”

  “There were three patrols and two excursion forces inside Tumbor at the time, taking tithes and gathering supplies. All of them are lost. Four more patrols were outside the city scouting or heading to or returning from their own rotations. Only one of them made it, although it was close. Once the distortion quickened, they ran for it and were only a hundred yards away from the distortion when it halted. We found them and brought them back with us.”

  “I’ll inform Darius and Father. Go see to your men.”

  The man placed a fist to his heart and knelt before Marcus, head bowed. Marcus rested his hand lightly on the man’s head, like a benediction, and when he removed it the enforcer stood and headed toward the barracks.

  Marcus turned to Iscivius. “Father will want your report about what happened in Erenthrall. The rest of you head to the Needle. Help with the damage control caused by the quickening. I’ll be down as soon as I can to see exactly how badly our network has been compromised and what we can do to repair it.”

  “What about them?” Irmona gestured toward Kara, Adder, Dylan, and Aaron.

  “We’re taking them to Father.”

  Irmona spun on her heel. Okata and the other White Cloaks trailed behind, leaving Marcus, Iscivius, Carter, Riley, and an escort of enforcers.

  Marcus turned to Iscivius. “Father will likely be in the orrery.” He began to ascend the steps of the temple, Iscivius a few paces behind him. The White Cloak glanced back at Kara a moment, then focused on Marcus’ back.

  Riley prodded Kara and Adder forward. They followed in Iscivius’ wake, Dylan, Aaron, and Carter behind. At the top of the first tier, they cut left across a wide plaza. The stone statues of animals were separated by fat rounded urns that Kara had mistaken for crenellations from the plaza below. No plants grew in the urns, but they were filled with dirt. She could imagine what the temple had looked like with spiked grass or even small trees sprouting from them, the edges of each tier clearly defined. The use of animals for the statues also made more sense. As they moved toward a set of worn wooden doors with metal hinges to one side of the steps, she noted that the plaza itself wasn’t a flat field of monotone stone. The flags were of varied browns and greens and yellows, all of different sizes, set in a pattern, like a mosaic. The result was a flowing river of color, oddly soothing, centered on a white stone circle. More urns lined the wall of the next tier between the windows and a few entrances, some with doors, some without, along with benches and scattered niches set into the walls. All of it was worn and faded with age and disuse.