Crewel (26 page)

‘I’m keeping you from making a mistake,’ he warns her in a low voice.

‘Sell it somewhere else, Erik. You think I don’t know that you’re helping her? At first I thought,
Let him bed her. It will take care of both our problems.
I was counting on you to ruin her,’ Maela says, lurching towards him and grabbing him by the collar. Under her rage, her eyes reflect the wounds caused by his betrayal.

Detaching her fingers, Erik pushes her gently away. ‘Now’s not the time.’

Spinning back, she glowers at me over the loom. ‘You’re playing a dangerous game. Do you think you can save him and yourself? Your life is over, Adelice. You’ve proved you could never take over here. You don’t have the stomach,’ she growls, ‘or the smarts.’

And then she laughs, and it’s like she’s injected me with some type of stimulant, because the weave of the room zooms into focus in front of my eyes, and I seize the strands of it with my left hand, rending it in two at my feet. The room splits down the middle, and Maela screams at the crack in the middle. It’s a terrifying sight: a black abyss broken by shimmering, interlocking light. This would panic most people. They might run. They might go pale and clutch against the wall as Maela has. To his credit, Cormac looks curious, but maintains his position. Silently, I will him to step forward, imagining myself pushing him down to an unknown fate, but he’s clever and he keeps his wits. And his life.

‘I may be
dumb
–’ I linger on the last word for Jost’s benefit, in an effort to catch his attention; maybe if he’s watching closely he can foresee my next play – ‘but let’s see you do that,’ I chide her.

Maela lets out a low hissing noise, and I realise she’s stifling hysteria. For a moment, it appears I’ve driven her genuinely crazy, but Loricel steps in. She’s on the other side of the rift, and the guard has lost his grip on her in the chaos. I can see her eyes growing hard with determination. There is no amused sparkle or friendly warmth in them now. They are cold, set, green.

‘Adelice, you have the power to stop this,’ she reminds me.

‘I know,’ I murmur. ‘I just can’t think of a good reason to.’

‘You know what will happen,’ Loricel insists, gesturing to Jost. ‘Will you leave him here to die for you? What about your sister? What about me?’

I almost laugh until I realise she’s speaking in earnest.

‘Let’s see. I can save a man who’s been revealed a traitor to the Guild. Why? So they can torture him for information? So they can keep him alive, but in agony, to try to keep me in line? You know, Loricel! You know what they’re capable of!’ I’m shouting, and it sends a tremor down the open tear. Maela presses herself harder against the wall.

‘Tsk, tsk, Maela. Who’s afraid of the bad little girl?’ I gloat, making no effort to hide the mocking in my voice. One way or another, the charade between us ends tonight. Might as well get in a few good jabs while I can.

‘I’m going to need you to loosen up on him a bit,’ I order the guard holding Jost, stretching my hands as if to reach out and destroy more of the frail tapestry of the room.

He glares at me for a moment, and I meet his intent gaze, unblinking, until he drops his arms. It’s a surer sign of defeat than anyone else in the room has shown. I edge closer to Jost, but I don’t reach out for him.

Loricel is still thinking, and I know why. She also has the power to close the rift. This raises the question of why she hasn’t yet, and I have to assume she still hasn’t chosen a side.

‘What do they have left to hold over you?’ I ask her softly. ‘They’re going to kill you. Worse – they’re going to exploit your gift.’

She smirks in a mirthless, bitter way, curling her withering lower lip into a scowl. ‘They have nothing on me.’

‘I know,’ I say. ‘But do you?’

Her hard eyes flash with fire, for a moment losing their coldness. ‘You’ve put us in an impossible situation.’

‘Not impossible,’ I say lightly. ‘Just challenging. Nothing is impossible for a Creweler.’

‘Except reality,’ she reminds me.

‘Except reality,’ I echo. I’m not sure what she means, but I know it’s important.

And then it hits me. Reality is impossible for us to control because we work within Arras. Our talent lies in stretching and shifting. Outside of Arras, we’re nothing. We only create illusion, and the sparkling, open void revealed before us is only another piece of that illusion. Beneath it lies something else, a reality only I can discover. A place where Cormac wouldn’t dare follow me. Earth.

But I can’t leave Jost. Or Loricel. Or my sister. Because the truth is that while I’m sure I can find my way out, I don’t know if I can find my way back. All eyes are on me, waiting for a response.

‘Enough of this,’ Cormac demands. ‘I’ve had enough of this drama. Adelice, like it or not, you’re responsible for every life in Arras. Stop acting like a spoiled child and fix this.’ He’s remarkably calm, but he stays firmly planted to his spot, a good distance away from the hole.

‘That’s just it,’ I say to him. ‘You treat us like children. But I know the truth.’

‘We don’t need her any more, Cormac,’ Maela calls out. ‘We’ll have Loricel’s skills transplanted, and there are those of us who’d make much better wives.’

‘Like you?’ he asks scornfully.

She falls back at the harsh rebuke. Personally, I don’t think even Maela deserves to put up with this much cruelty, but it’s just what I need to get her where I want her.

‘Maela,’ I say slowly, baiting the trap, ‘do you know how to do anything other than mutilate a piece of time?’

She glares at me, still standing firmly against the wall. Erik bristles next to her but stays silent. I need her to move if I’m going to kill two birds with one stone. Or at least knock them out.

‘Remember that night in the courtyard when you caught me with Erik?’ I taunt, but she stays still.

She stiffens at the recollection. I’m counting on her extreme mood swings to work in my favour for once.

‘Oh c’mon. You can dish it out but you can’t take it? You know, I never even gave him a moment’s thought before that. He sought me out.’ I can see Erik’s bright eyes travelling from Maela’s face to mine. I try to keep my gaze directed at her now, because I know this revelation will be painful for Jost. But not as painful as the one I’ve just had. I know why Erik is caught in the middle of this fight, and it’s not because of me. The truth was always tugging at my mind, and I refused to see, but now it’s so obvious I can’t believe they don’t all see it. The eyes should have been enough, but there were other clues. Both from a fishing village. The pained looks that crossed their faces when they saw each other. How they seem to hate each other.

‘Well, I’m glad Erik kissed me,’ I say, planting my feet a bit firmer in my spot. ‘It gave me something to compare to Jost’s kiss.’

I risk a glance at Jost and Erik. Jost’s puzzlement gives way to a look of betrayal, but Erik is watching me, trying to work out what I’m saying.

‘I never realised until now how similar your eyes are,’ I tell them, and Erik’s gaze widens a bit as he finally understands. ‘But it’s that and the way you kiss that tells me you’re brothers.’

It hits the room like a bomb, ripping through the minds of everyone listening. Someday I’ll tell Jost I had to do this to bait Maela and apologise, but there’s no time now. Maela doesn’t try to act calm. She flies at Erik for hiding the information. Considering her size, it might not have done much. Except I’ve left a gaping hole open in the middle of the room, and they tumble towards it. The stunned guard doesn’t move, and I dare one brief look at Loricel. Her face says it all: she won’t interfere.

Snapping to, I lunge toward Jost and grab his arm as Maela sends Erik over the edge of the tear. There’s no sound as he falls, although I can see his mouth open. She teeters on the edge but doesn’t fall. I’ve lost too many moments already, and each second counts. Thankfully, Jost is too weakened from the beating he took to protest as I throw us into the hole at our feet. I have enough time to see Loricel break away and move forward to begin the repair. She’s fast, and I know she’ll get it done before they can stop her, but she’ll pay dearly. In the end, she gave me my choice.

The golden light sparkles and cracks around us, but I don’t know if it’s because the rift is closing or because we’re falling too quickly through the raw weave between Arras and Earth. Jost has placed his arms protectively around my waist. If he’s in pain, it’s the least of his worries now. He must really trust me not to be screaming in my ear; or maybe despite our closeness he can’t speak here. Tumbling forwards, I latch on to a strand and wrench us faster along the rough weave, moving closer and closer to Erik, who seems too far beyond our reach.

Theoretically, we could be falling forever, but I’m not exactly eager to test this. I can’t leave Erik here alone though. He’s twisted his head and caught sight of us. Catching on, he propels his body around so that he is falling backwards, facing us, and watching my progress. And then something amazing happens. Maybe it’s the rough, thick texture of this weave or maybe, like me, he can actually see the strands, because he reaches out and grabs at them until his hand catches one. He’s still falling, but he’s slowed his progress.

Jost throws his weight against me, pushing us to accelerate until he is able to reach out with his free hand and clasp it over the outstretched hand of his brother.

It would be a real moment if we weren’t stuck in some void between worlds. At least I have a plan – thanks to Loricel. Well, an idea really, and I can only hope it works. Now that Jost and Erik are both safely within my control, I let go of the strand, and we slide faster along the mantle. As we hit the strands, sparks fly and bits fray. I can only imagine the damage we’re doing. It’s the kind of repair work they’ll need a Creweler for. Maybe I’m buying Loricel some time, though I’m not sure that’s doing her a favour.

Jost’s hand stays closed over Erik’s, and his arm is still tight against my waist. My hands are free so I reach into the strands and rip as hard as I can, wiggling my fingers under the coarse weave under Arras, and then my hands slip into something cool. Night air. The raw weave’s strands are thick and tightly woven against one another and getting one hand through is exhausting, but there’s a strange sense of accomplishment when I realise I’ve stopped our fall.

Of course, now we’re floating in an extended void, so best not to get cocky. We are outside the reality of Arras and its physical laws, but honestly, I have no idea what to expect on the surface of Earth. If Loricel is right and there’s nothing left, I’ll have killed us all. I’m not sure I’m ready to face that possibility, but I like the idea of slowly wasting away as we fall through strands of time even less.

If Jost and Erik want to know what I’m doing, they don’t ask. Even though I can’t hear them here, I would be able to see their mouths moving, but they remain tight-lipped. Right now they seem intent on letting me continue my manipulation of the strands and ignoring each other. Whatever brotherly love might exist between them, they aren’t exactly giddy at their reunion. But there’s no time for distractions. I push these concerns out of my mind and work harder at opening a new rift. Once it’s big enough to stick an arm through it occurs to me that it might be smart to poke my head in and get a look at what I’ve got myself into. I don’t want to drop us into the middle of an ocean after all.

I barely make out a cry of protest from one of the boys as I wiggle my head into the misplaced strands. It’s dark. A large full moon casts a faint glow on shadowy objects all around me. I’m hanging above a street edged by a row of buildings. The light bounces off the black and in the distance it fades to twinkling gold. There’s a stillness to the scene that makes it feel false. Another illusion. But as if to contradict me, a soft breeze brushes my face and tosses my hair. The scene remains relatively unchanged, but as my eyes adjust, I make out the wind tossing stray debris across the road. I hear the scrape of paper on concrete.

The good news is that we are not hovering over the middle of the ocean, but the bad news is that I have no idea where we are or what to expect of this world – Earth. It’s more desolate than I imagined, which seems stupid, because I know there is no one left living on this layer. But there’s shelter and, if we’re lucky, maybe food. I suppose I thought others might have made their way out, but how could they without a Creweler?

Without me?

Regardless, it’s the best option we have. I could try to open a rift and bring us back into Arras, but that would be even more dangerous. Loricel may have helped us escape, but she won’t be in a position to help us if we return. I can’t be sure she’s even alive, and they’ll be watching for our personal identifying sequences in the weave. No, it’s not safe to return, so there’s no other choice. Pulling back into the open weave, I work faster, more sure of myself now that I know we’ll be safe when the entrance is large enough. I don’t bother to look at either Jost or Erik. I’ll have to deal with that drama later. Right now I have a job to do.

Time is coarser in the raw weave and my already scarred fingers soon begin to feel the work, despite the calloused tips Maela gave me. Having two other lives here depending on me, and desperately needing to get through and figure out what to do about Sebrina and Amie, I ignore the ache in my hands. They’re in danger every second we waste on the surface, and, unlike during the moments I wove within the Coventry, time will continue to move forward in both realities.

When I finally manage to carve out a wide enough gap, I nod dramatically to let my companions know we need to go through. I see Jost’s mouth moving, and his eyes squint in concern. I shake my head to let him know I can’t hear him and reach out with my free hand to suggest that he should enter. His mouth forms one word that’s easy enough to read: No. Fine. Sooner or later he’s going to want to come through. Of course, if I let go of him, he’ll return to falling and probably never find this open space again. About the time I realise I’m chewing on the inside of my cheek, Erik impatiently struggles to the open spot. His left arm is still on my waist, and he pulls me along with him, like he’s swimming in the air. When his free arm slips through the hole, he releases me and catapults himself forward, disappearing entirely. I turn back to Jost and raise my eyebrows. His arm tightens around me, and he frowns, but seems to realise that anything’s better than being stuck in this interspace. Moving forward more slowly than his brother, he smoothly pulls me along until we are at the mouth of the opening. Looking at me for reassurance, he takes a deep breath and drags us both through. We land in a pile of crumbling concrete; it looks like the remains of a road. Apparently my hole wasn’t exactly flush with the ground of the real world, but it’s not so bad. We could have fallen much further.