Threading the Needle (23 page)

No one else had moved.

Except Adder.

He threw off Gaven's supposed support, jabbed a Rat's throat with stiffened fingers, seized the choking body with his other arm, and disarmed him. Sword bared, he threw the writhing body toward the two near Jack, already moving toward the next Rat, the boy unaware of his approach until the blade sank into his chest. He coughed up blood, the red-black liquid staining the front of his shirt. One of the Rats near Jack caught his fellow Rat's body. Jack twisted in a move Kara didn't quite catch. Something cracked and the second Rat fell to the ground cradling a broken arm. Jack disarmed him and spun, but Adder had already moved on to the two Rats farthest from them. Both of them attempted to defend themselves with their spears, but Adder was too quick. One fell with a hand severed at the wrist, his shrieks echoing oddly inside Dylan's shield, the other defending herself for two ringing deflections before Adder drove his sword into her side.

Both Adder and Jack turned toward Richten and Fletch. Richten had twisted Dylan around to face them and placed the edge of his knife at Dylan's throat.

Fletch still hadn't moved. His mouth had thinned in disapproval, his eyes following Adder's movements. He didn't seem aware of the danger of the ley only a few paces away, although he must have seen what it had done to the Rats who'd been in its path.

“Don't come closer, or I'll kill him.”

“Don't be stupid, Richten. If you kill the Wielder, we all die. He's the one keeping the ley at bay.” Fletch looked to Kara. “Now what?”

Kara released the edges of the ley's shard and lowered her arms. “You let us go.”

Before he could answer, Dylan said tightly, “Kara.”

Fletch's eyes narrowed. “And if I don't?”

“Kara, I can't hold it.” Dylan was sweating, his face pale.

“Then Dylan loses his grip on the shield and we all die.”

The muscles in Fletch's jaw tensed as he ground his teeth together. “Richten, let him go.”

The Rat practically threw Dylan from him. Gaven caught him.

At the same time, Kara reached out and erected her own shield
beneath Dylan's, a moment before his collapsed. The ley surged a foot closer, but again Fletch didn't move. Kara mentally cursed. If she'd had more time, she could have thrown up a shield around only those from the Hollow.

“You don't want to go with the Underearthers.”

“Why not?”

Fletch didn't answer.

Kara edged around him, then switched places with Richten. Behind them, she noticed that the ley pouring from the healed shard had thinned and abated. It still lapped up against the shield, but in another few minutes it wouldn't be high enough or intense enough to harm them. She could feel what remained already seeping into the ground, seeking out the new ley lines created by the Shattering.

When Adder touched her shoulder, she started. He and Jack flanked her as they backed away from the two Rats.

“We don't have much time.”

“I can see that.”

As if he'd heard them, Fletch glanced back.

Kara let the shield go. “Run!”

Her last glimpse of Fletch and Richten was of both of them throwing their arms up to protect themselves as they flinched back from the cascade of ley. Richten screamed in terror as it struck them.

“Are they dead?”

“No! The ley isn't concentrated enough anymore.”

Adder cursed. A moment later, the ley struck them, washing about their feet, rising almost to their hips. It tingled against Kara's legs, the hair on her arms standing on end in reaction. Adder and the others plowed forward, Gaven supporting Dylan.

They emerged from the hole inside the distortion onto the plaza and were brought up short. The scene before the library was utter chaos, Rats fighting Tunnelers on all sides except for a wide area before them where the ley flowed out onto the plaza. It spread like a pool, now only ankle deep and receding fast. Both the Rats and the Tunnelers avoided it.

“This way.” Adder grabbed Kara's arm and tugged her away from the fight. They edged along the distortion to the left, heading toward the nearest building, diagonally across the plaza, the white-hot lightning of the distortion overhead. Adder led, Jack behind, swords raised. But the majority of the fighting was at the base of the library steps.

They'd almost reached the edge of the plaza when Kara heard someone shout, the voice familiar.

She halted and glanced back, Gaven and Dylan bumping into her from behind.

“Keep moving! We're almost there!”

Kara shook her head, still scanning the fight, searching faces. “I would have sworn I heard—” Her eyes opened wide and she spun back to Adder. “It's Allan! He's fighting with the Tunnelers!”

“What?” Adder trotted back to them. “Where?”

“There, toward the back, at the top of the library steps. I can see Allan, Glenn, and Cutter.”

“I see them. What about the others?”

“Inside the library?”

“Possibly. We can't get to Allan and the others directly. We'd have to fight our way through the Rats.” Adder motioned back toward the street. “Jack, take the lead. Gaven and Dylan next. Kara and I will follow. Head down a block or two, then circle back to the library.”

Jack took off, Gaven and Dylan limping along behind him. Adder and Kara followed at a slower pace.

“Something's not quite right.”

“What do you mean?” Kara glanced back toward Allan. “It looks like they're fighting with the Tunnelers.”

“They are. But look at the Tunnelers around them. They're not just fighting the Rats. They're keeping a close eye on Allan, Glenn, and Cutter as well.”

Now that he'd pointed it out, Kara could see it. At least five of the Tunnelers near them were staying close, even when there were obvious openings for them to advance down the stairs. The Hollowers were hemmed in. “We won't know what's going on until we find them.”

They'd reached the street. As they passed behind the building, their view of the plaza and the fighting cut off, Kara thought she saw Cutter look in their direction.

“T
HEY'VE ESCAPED!”

Allan swept a Rat's sword out from the boy's clumsy thrust and sliced across his chest, pulling the swing a little so the cut wasn't as deep. As the boy gaped at him in shock, then collapsed—blood blooming in a thin line across his chest, his clothing sagging away from the cut—Allan stepped back, aware of Sorelle and the rest of her guard on either side. He scanned the fight. “I don't see them.”

Cutter slashed the Rat before him, the girl curling forward over her cut arm with a silent scream. The tracker pointed with his sword. “They just vanished behind that building.”

Allan saw nothing, but he turned toward Sorelle. “Sorelle!”

“I heard.” She thrust her own blade through her opponent's chest. “I'll inform Cason we can retreat.” She turned and, bringing fingers to lips, sounded a piercing whistle.

Those in the plaza began to fall back, fighting as they went. The Rats harassed them the entire way. Sorelle's group surrounded Allan, Glenn, and Cutter and herded them back inside the library, where Artras, Carter, and Aaron waited with Tim watching over them. They all carried weapons in case the Rats broke through, but it was obvious that Carter and Aaron wouldn't have contributed much to the fight. Artras appeared surprisingly comfortable with hers, although its length looked unwieldy in her grip.

As they passed inside the shadows of the library, two Rats emerged from the gaping hole in the distortion where a shard had once been.
The taller of the two glanced over the fighting, then said something to the other, who began bellowing orders.

Then Allan's sightline was cut off, Sorelle and the rest of the Tunnelers surging through the library's double doors. The inside study area was filling fast, Sorelle directing everyone back into the stacks.

Allan bumped into Artras, who grabbed his shirt. “Kara? Is she safe?”

“I didn't see her. But Cutter said she escaped.”

“Good. After what I've seen here in Erenthrall, we need her more than ever.”

Allan was going to ask her what she meant, but Cason appeared. With a roar, she thrust the Rats clinging to her like their namesake vermin back outside, a slew of Tunnelers closing the doors to keep them out. Others dragged tables to brace them, and then Cason searched the room until her gaze fell on Sorelle.

“Where are they?”

Sorelle motioned toward Cutter. “He saw them flee the distortion.”

“Where did they go?”

“They came out of the distortion and turned right. They entered the first street, but they saw Allan and the rest of us fighting on the steps.”

“You're certain?”

“Yes.”

Ren turned to Cason. “Then they'll likely try to circle around to find us.”

“The Rats aren't going to just sit there in the plaza and let us get away.” She turned to Sorelle and Allan. “We'll have to pick them up on the run. I'll leave that up to your two groups. We'll focus on protecting our backside.”

They moved, the Tunnelers spilling back through the stacks of the library, into the back room, then out into the alley and streets beyond. Scouts fanned out ahead, scattering as soon as they hit the street. Sorelle, Jaimes, Laura, and the rest loosely circled Allan and the Hollowers as they cut left, heading in the direction Cutter said Kara and the others had run. Sorelle and the others kept their attention forward, one of the scouts appearing occasionally in a doorway or window or rooftop, flashing a wordless signal before disappearing again. Allan recognized the hand gestures from the Dogs; Cason must have taught them. Allan kept his gaze roving, both ahead and behind.

Glancing back, he thought he saw a figure standing on a roofline, outlined against clouds backlit by the moon. At the figure's feet were the silhouettes of two Wolves. When he blinked to focus, the black shapes were gone. He scanned the nearest buildings, but saw nothing.

Then Sorelle barked a warning. He spun back to see the Tunnelers fanning out on the street. Ahead, Adder and Kara stood in front of Jack, Dylan, and Gaven. Gaven was supporting Dylan, the Wielder keeping the weight off of one leg. All of them had dark bruises on their faces, Adder in particular, although he still held his sword with cold confidence. Kara's throat was bruised in the shape of a hand, as if someone had choked her.

He didn't see Kent at all.

“Stand down! We're here to help!”

Adder glanced toward Allan. “How can we be sure of that?”

Sorelle spat and cursed under her breath, locking gazes with Allan. “We don't have time for this.”

Allan thought about the figure and his attendant Wolves and agreed.

He stepped forward, sword lowered. “We came to get you the hell out of here. The Rats will be on us any minute now.”

Behind him, he heard fighting spill out into the street. The Rats had made it through the library. More of them would be circling around the buildings, like Adder and Kara.

Kara muttered something to Adder, who nodded, his shoulders relaxing. “Dylan can barely walk. Kent's dead.”

“We heard.” Then, to Sorelle: “Whenever you're ready.”

Sorelle turned and sounded another harsh whistle before pointing toward a secondary street beyond Adder and the others. “That way.”

Both groups took off for the street. Allan edged close to Kara as they ran.

“Are you all right?”

“No, we're not. None of us are.”

Sorelle shouted, “Into the ley station.” They hustled up the steps to another ley station, Sorelle holding open the still-intact door and shoving them through as fast as possible. “Take the right tunnel down to the platform, then right into the barge line.”

They skirted the stone statue of a flock of birds in flight, the petrified creatures exploding toward the shattered glass ceiling, then crossed the mezzanine and entered the tunnel. Jaimes and Laura were ahead of
them, racing down the slanted corridor until they reached the platform. They headed directly toward the right edge, where the barge line shot off to the southwest. Jaimes and Laura didn't even pause, just leapt into the channel. Jaimes turned around and motioned Artras and Glenn down. “Come on!”

Glenn jumped. Artras turned and levered herself over the side. Allan halted just behind Carter, Adder, and Cutter, all of them scrambling to get down.

Beside him, Kara sucked in a wavering breath.

“What's wrong?”

“There's still ley running through that line.”

“I don't see anything.”

“It's not concentrated enough to be visible, but it's there.”

More of Sorelle's group entered the platform, trailed by Sorelle herself.

“They seem to know what they're doing regarding these tunnels.” Allan grabbed hold of Kara's upper arm. “We're going to have to trust them.”

Together they dropped down into the stone-lined bed then ducked into the deeper shadows of the channel beyond. Twenty paces inside, Sorelle called a halt and ordered everyone silent. She listened, head canted to one side, her shape barely visible as an outline against the rounded mouth of the tunnel behind them.

Finally, she turned and motioned to Jaimes, who pulled a lantern from a small niche in the wall and lit it. Allan wasn't thrilled to see that the niche was really a huge crack in the tunnel wall that ran all the way up to the ceiling and down the other side. A result of the Shattering, he assumed. Or the quakes that had followed.

“We weren't seen.” Sorelle's gaze raked over Kara and the other new additions. “Which of you are Wielders?”

“I am. And Dylan over there, the one injured.”

“Did you free that armory for them?”

“No.”

“Good. Then we won't have to kill you.”

Allan couldn't tell if Sorelle was serious until he caught Jaimes' eyeroll off to one side. Even then, he wasn't reassured. His old Dog instincts prickled; he'd learned long ago not to ignore them.

Sorelle motioned them all into the tunnel, Jaimes leading the way
with the lantern, the Tunnelers both ahead and behind, hemming them in. The old barge channel branched right, then left, but they didn't diverge from the main path until they reached another left branch.

Kara tugged on his sleeve as they moved through the dark and mouthed, silently, “We've left the ley,” as soon as they cut left.

They passed a few junctions, dropping down to deeper levels or climbing up to higher ones using ladders obviously set there by the Tunnelers. At one point, they crossed a series of makeshift bridges, like those the Rats used, where the channels once filled by the ley were flooded with running water. The sound of water cascading down in a thin waterfall was deafening after the silence of the tunnels, but the fine spray thrown up provided some cooling relief.

By the time they emerged again into the Tunnelers' home base, people rushing forward to help Sorelle and the others deal with weapons and wounds, Allan's arms were weak and shaking from exhaustion. He didn't protest when Sorelle ordered them back to the same grated tunnel they'd been held in before. The Tunnelers took Dylan away to see to his leg. Allan watched silently, standing protectively before their assigned prison, but no one moved to herd them inside and close the grate behind them.

He ducked into the tunnel and found Artras and Kara conversing, the rest sprawled out in as comfortable a position as they could find, massaging bruised arms or legs, nursing wounds. Gaven was methodically going over Adder's body, the Dog wincing whenever he touched a sensitive spot, Aaron acting as an assistant. Adder had obviously been beaten worse than the others.

All of them looked up as he entered. He met each of their gazes, ending with Adder. “What happened to Kent?”

“The Rats killed him.”

“What for?”

“To intimidate us.”

“What did they want?”

“Wielders, so they could free up the armory trapped inside the distortion.”

Someone coughed, and Allan turned to see Sorelle standing at the entrance to the tunnel.

“I came to tell you that your other Wielder—”

“Dylan. His name is Dylan.”

“Dylan, then. He's fine. His knee was sprained. We bound it up. He'll be limping for a while yet, but he'll heal.”

She turned to go, but Glenn stepped forward. “What are you going to do with us now?”

“You'll have to ask Cason about that.”

After she'd moved a short distance away, Glenn murmured, “Somehow I don't find that reassuring.”

Allan caught the Dog's eyes. “So I'm not the only one feeling unsettled?”

“My hackles have been up since we left the Hollow. But there's something not quite right about these Tunnelers.”

“They rescued us from the Rats.”

“Only because they wanted to make certain our Wielders didn't hand the armory over to their enemies. But now that they've stopped that, what are they going to do with us?”

Allan let the question hang unanswered, then cut into the uneasiness. “There's no reason to create trouble. They haven't locked us up since we returned—even let us keep our weapons—so we give them the benefit of the doubt, but keep our eyes open.” He noted Glenn's disapproval. “I'm on edge as well, but can you say it's because of the Tunnelers specifically, or is it everything that's happened since we entered what's left of Erenthrall?”

“It's the Tunnelers, Sorelle in particular.”

“Jaimes and Laura haven't treated us badly. And Sorelle may be prickly, but it's obvious her hatred is focused on the Rats, not us. We're just easy targets. She didn't have to come back to report on Dylan, but she did.”

Glenn remained unconvinced.

Behind, the Tunnelers' main chamber erupted in a roar of triumph. Allan and Glenn shifted toward the entrance, Kara and Artras coming up behind.

“What is it?”

“Cason, their leader, has returned.”

Everyone inside the Tunnelers' main chamber converged on the leader as she entered with Ren and the fighters behind her. Sorelle must have told everyone they'd succeeded, for they were all trying to congratulate the returning heroes at once. Cason ignored the adulation, tossing her helmet to a waiting youth while others rushed forward
to tend to wounds. They began removing her armor piece by piece. She grimaced as they drew her arm free, blood pouring out of the metal sleeve and pooling on the ground. At least three healers swept in, bodies hunched as they bound the cut.

She glanced toward Allan and the others as they worked, saw them watching.

Allan's uneasiness grew.

“You have a report, Devin?” Aurek didn't take his eyes off of the message the latest courier had brought in.

“Yes, Lord Baron. We've broken the prisoner Joss, from the western foothills.”

Aurek glanced up, eyebrow raised. “The one Verrent captured, before his foolhardy attack on that settlement?” He sat back, tossing the message to the small portable table that served as his desk. “Are they White Cloaks?”