Threading the Needle

DAW Books proudly presents the fantasy novels of
Joshua Palmatier:

SHATTERING THE LEY

THREADING THE NEEDLE

The Throne of Amenkor:

THE SKEWED THRONE

THE CRACKED THRONE

THE VACANT THRONE

Copyright © 2016 by Joshua Palmatier.

All Rights Reserved.

Jacket art by Stephan Martiniere.

Jacket designed by G-Force Design.

Book designed by Elizabeth Glover.

DAW Book Collectors No. 1727.

Published by DAW Books, Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, NY 10014.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

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eBook ISBN 9780756411763

DAW TRADEMARK REGISTERED

U.S. PAT. AND TM. OFF. AND FOREIGN COUNTRIES

—MARCA REGISTRADA

HECHO EN U.S.A.

This book is dedicated to fellow author, co-editor, and loyal friend, Patricia Bray. She's withstood all of my wild dreams, from the flights of fantasy that become the books you're reading, to the small press Zombies ` Brains.

Acknowledgments

This book was made possible by many people—readers, friends, family—all of whom supported me in some way during the writing process: readers for rooting me on when the writing felt tough; friends for keeping me sane and providing me with drinks when required; and family for encouraging me to do what others might only dream. Thank you all.

A few deserve particular mention, though:

My agent, Joshua Bilmes, who took me on mid-series and who shares my dreams of what my writing career could be. He forced me—at the eleventh hour—to cut over 25,000 words from this book, which only made it better.

My editor, Sheila Gilbert, who continues to push me—sometimes kicking and screaming—along the writing path.

David J. Fortier, who suffered through the first draft of this book and sent me feedback. And that first draft was . . . *shudder*

Missy Gunnels Katano, loyal minion (we'll just ignore that previous claim on minion-ship by Gini Koch), who never fails to support me at cons with chocolate and enthusiasm.

My mom, who's also helped tremendously at cons by helping out at my dealer's room table. Plus, you know, that whole “raising me since I was born” thing.

And lastly, my partner, George, who's dealt with all of my writing highs and lows from first publication onward.

All of these people helped bring this book about. It may have been published without them, but it wouldn't have been nearly as good, nor as fun to write.

PART I:

Erenthrall

K
A
RA TREMAIN KNELT ON THE STONES
at the edge of the creek, reached into the chill water with the shirt she held, and scrubbed it vigorously. Banks of stone and sand rose up on either side of the creek, and a large pool spread out before her where the water ran slower and deeper. A few of the youngest children of the Hollow were splashing in the pool, their mothers or fathers watching from the shore while working on their own laundry.

Kara pulled the shirt out of the current, wrung it, then tossed it into the basket on her left while reaching for another. This one was Cory's, smelling of his sweat. She breathed in his scent before soaking it, pausing to sprinkle some of the dried soap into its center before scrubbing it again.

The first time she'd done this, her shoulders had ached for a week. Now her arms were tanned and muscled. Someone else had always handled her laundry in Erenthrall, before the Shattering: her mother when she was younger, but after her parents had died at the hands of the Kormanley, one of the servants of the Wielder's college had seen to it. Same for all of the nodes she'd worked at after that. She hadn't even noticed when they came to empty the hampers or return the cleaned clothes; the servants had been nearly invisible.

Of course, her mother and the other servants would have had the help of the ley in Erenthrall.

Instinctively, she reached for it. But unlike in Erenthrall, here in the Hollow the ley wasn't waiting, ready to be used at a mere thought. There was no Nexus, nor any nodes to augment the ley's power, but the ley was there. She'd managed—with the other Wielders in their
group—to stabilize it into its own network, against the wishes of some of those in the Hollow. It had run strong enough to provide the refugees from the Shattering enough heating stones for their tents during the harshest winter months. Kara doubted many of them would have survived, especially during the unnaturally bitter cold snap they'd endured for nearly two weeks at the end of the year. Even then, they'd lost two, and another dozen had suffered frostbite.

Shaking herself, she pulled herself up out of the ley. One of the children splashed her and she snapped the shirt at the girl in mock anger. The girl shrieked and surged away through the water. Smiling, Kara dropped the shirt into the wet basket and reached for another, only to discover she was finished.

The other members of the Hollow called out to her as she tucked the basket onto her hip and hiked up the steep incline that led to the main group of buildings, wiping the sweat from her brow as she ducked beneath the limbs of the surrounding trees. Emerging at the top into the sunlight, she cut to the left, between two cottages with women and children working in the small herb gardens. A couple of dogs barked at her, trotting alongside before breaking away. But the small village was mostly empty, the regular tenants—along with those who'd sought refuge here after the Shattering—already out in the fields, sowing the rest of the spring crops.

Kara didn't know why they were bothering. She intended to repair the distortion that currently engulfed Erenthrall and then return, to reestablish some semblance of the city where she'd grown up. The only reason she'd left was because the city had become too dangerous. Violent groups of survivors had begun killing indiscriminately, while packs of feral Wolves roamed the streets. The quakes, the unpredictable eruptions of ley, and the random auroral light storms only added to the danger.

It had been safer to retreat to the Hollow.

When their wagons had halted on the narrow dirt path that was the Hollow's only road, they'd found the two elders—Paul and Sophia—waiting for them. Sophia, over half a century old, with the wispy white hair, wrinkles, and age spots to prove it, had stepped up to Allan immediately and welcomed him with a hug and kiss on the cheek, reaching to pull his daughter Morrell into the embrace. Morrell had burst into tears and clung to her. Sophia had stroked her hair, then turned her sharp, intelligent eyes on the rest.

“And who do we have here, Allan? Guests?”

“I'm afraid not. They're all refugees from Erenthrall.”

Sophia shot him a hard look. “Erenthrall?”

Allan's shoulders slumped. “It's gone. Destroyed.”

“Serves them all right,” Paul snapped. “The use of the ley brought them to this. We shouldn't let them into the Hollow. They should deal with the consequences on their own.”

“Hush, Paul.” Sophia's voice was soft, but it had an iron core, and Kara realized they already knew about Erenthrall. They would have felt the Shattering, or heard it, even here in the hills a few weeks of hard travel to the northwest.

Paul quieted, but kept his arms crossed over his chest.

“We don't intend to stay,” Kara had said.

The elderly woman took in Kara's tattered and road-stained purple Wielder's jacket, then met her gaze. “I suppose we can make room for a few more.”

The surge of relief from the wagon train behind had been palpable. Kara had dropped her head, tears burning in her eyes. But then Cory had wrapped his arm around her waist and she'd leaned into him, into his strength. She'd heard sobbing as Sophia, Paul, and a slew of other villagers who'd been watching from a distance came forward and led them toward a wide meadow to the west, within walking distance of the village.

Kara now passed between cottages whose residents she'd come to know by name and entered the greenbelt that separated the Hollow from that meadow. A moment later she stepped out of the trees.

Tents were pitched across the entire length of the sward. Toward the back, a group of Kara's fellow refugees were building a set of cottages, smaller than those in the Hollow proper, but far more permanent than the tents. Two had already been completed, with a third close, and two others mere skeletons of braces and supports. Nothing like any of the buildings they were used to in Erenthrall, but still more
solid
than Kara liked.

She shrugged her unease aside and headed toward the tent she and Cory had claimed, pushing the basket with the wet clothes through the flap, then crawling in afterward. Setting the basket to one side, she touched the wide, rounded heating stone and reached for the ley. The stone began to warm beneath her fingers. Humming to herself, she
began pinning some of the clothes up on lines running across the tent over the stone.

She had just hung the last of the shirts when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. Shading her gaze with one hand, she squinted.

Her heart skipped when she recognized Cory. “Why are you not helping in the fields, Cory?” He was moving fast, not quite running. Max, the little mutt who had attached himself to Kara after she'd saved him from a distortion, raced along at Cory's heels.

They were headed straight toward her.

She reached for the ley, but it told her nothing, and Cory wouldn't be looking for her if there'd been an accident, he'd be looking for Logan or Morrell.

Which left only one other option.

She tossed the unused clothespins into the basket and tucked it inside the tent. Then she grabbed her purple Wielder's jacket and shrugged into it, snatching up a water skin.

Cory saw her waiting and waved. Max barked and tore away from him. She knelt as the little dog leaped up into her arms and attempted to lick her face. She fended him off with one hand, his tail a blur.

“It's the group sent to Erenthrall, isn't it?” she asked when Cory was near enough to hear. “Allan, Bryce, and the others are back.”

“The sentries report they'll be here shortly. Sophia thought you should be there to meet them when they reach the Hollow.”

Kara passed him the skin. “Did you run from the fields?”

Cory drank deeply, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Of course.”

Shaking her head, Kara snagged his arm. “You'd better come with me. I'm certain they sent for Paul, Hernande, and Sovaan already.”

They wove back through the tents toward the Hollow, emerging onto the dirt road just outside of the village. Sophia was waiting, Sovaan and Hernande to one side. The elderly woman reached up to tuck a few strands of her hair back behind one ear as Kara and Cory approached.

“Good to see you,” she said. “I thought you'd be in the fields, but I'm glad Cory found you.”

“Laundry day today.”

“The washing never ends.”

They halted beside Hernande, Cory's mentor, who nodded in greeting. Sovaan, another mentor from the University, merely frowned. Kara had never found out why Sovaan disliked Hernande. They'd been at odds long before the Shattering, and Hernande had merely waved Kara's question aside when she'd asked, saying it was an old grudge, petty and stupid.

“How goes the work on the new cabins?” Sophia asked.

“Two finished, another close behind. Two more going up now. It will take most of the rest of spring and summer to get them all done.”

“As long as they're up before winter,” Sovaan interjected. “I nearly froze to death in those tents.”

Kara thought about the two people they
had
found frozen, but she kept quiet.

Max suddenly began barking, startling her, before he streaked away from the group, down the rutted road, and into the trees. “Max!” Kara swore when the dog ignored her. He vanished, although Kara could still hear him barking. The angry protectiveness in the sound, undercut with a growl, suddenly changed to excitement, and everyone in the group relaxed.

A moment later, they could all hear the creak of a wagon and the shouts and curses of those who'd left for Erenthrall to scavenge for supplies. A figure emerged from the trees, running toward them, his face lined with urgency.

“That's Jasom,” Sovaan said.

As soon as Jasom saw them, he shouted, “Find Logan! We have wounded!”

Sophia snapped around, but Cory was already rushing to the east. “He's in the fields!” the elderly woman called out after him.

The rest of them ran down the road toward Jasom as the wagon appeared, the Dog Bryce holding the reins, grim-faced and hard, two others in the back of the wagon, holding on tight. As soon as Bryce saw them, he pulled back on the reins, shouting for the horses to halt, then leaped from the wagon before it had completely stopped.

“Who is it?” There had been at least fifteen members in the group; Kara could see only three others besides Jasom. “Who's been hurt?”

“Claye. A few others were injured, but not seriously. Terrim is dead.”

Bryce led them around the back of the open wagon. Two men were hovering over Claye's body, their hands and clothes covered in blood
as they pressed down against a wound on Claye's side to stanch the blood flow. An arrow jutted from his gut, just beneath his rib cage.

Sophia swore as the thick scent of blood struck them all, then heaved herself up into the wagon. “Hold him. Don't let up the pressure.”

“What happened?” Sovaan asked.

Bryce wiped a hand down his scarred face. “We were attacked on the outskirts of the plains, just before reaching the hills.”

“By who?”

Bryce shrugged. “They rode out of the northeast on horses, hit us hard, tried to take the wagon. Terrim was dead before we knew what was happening. He was driving the wagon. The next thing I knew, I was fighting off two of them while a third was whipping the horses, trying to draw the wagon away. Claye and Allan charged from the side and managed to climb into the back, while the rest of us fended off the others. As soon as they saw their man killed by Claye and Allan bringing the wagon to a halt, they broke off the attack and fled, firing arrows as they left. That's when Claye was hit. He was an easy target, standing on top of the wagon.”

They all watched as Sophia gently probed the flesh around the arrow. Claye moaned and twisted beneath the touch, and Sophia's jaw muscles clenched. She sat back.

“There's nothing I can do. We need Logan.”

“Where is he?” Bryce demanded.

“Cory ran to fetch him from the fields. But we can move Claye to Logan's place, get him set up on the table.” Sophia clambered down from the wagon. “Hernande, get fresh water from the creek. Sovaan, get the fire started. And Kara—”

“Fresh linens.”

Sophia nodded. “Go. The rest of you, bring the wagon as close to Logan's as possible and then help me carry him inside.”

Sophia continued giving orders, but Kara ran toward Logan's cottage behind Sovaan. They burst through the outer door into the inner room, the scent of crushed herbs and medicine overpowering. Sovaan moved around the table in the center of the room to the hearth, muttering under his breath. Kara cut left and swung open the main doors of the massive cabinet against one wall. Linen was stacked to one side, and she pulled out the first few sets of folded cloth, snapping them
open and beginning to tear them into strips. She felt a tug on the Tapestry from Sovaan, and firelight spilled from the hearth.

She had a respectable pile of bandages when the door cracked open and Sophia rushed into the room, holding the door while Bryce and the other two men carried Claye's limp figure inside and set him on the table. The Dog groaned, but Kara could tell he was nearly unconscious. Sophia shooed Bryce aside and ordered the others to continue putting pressure on the wound. Kara immediately handed over the torn cloth, then continued to rip the material into additional bandages. With the amount of blood she could see, Logan was going to need them. Both Sovaan and Bryce had retreated, backs up against one wall, uncertain what they could do to help.

“Where are the others?” Kara asked.

Bryce's eyes were focused on Claye. “What others?”

“Allan, Glenn, the rest of those that went with you?”

Bryce stared at her a moment, as if he still hadn't heard, then blinked and shook himself. “We handed over some of the supplies for them to carry, to make room in the wagon for Claye, then we sprinted out ahead of them. They should be coming into the Hollow shortly.”