Threading the Needle (46 page)

“Good.” Hernande grabbed three of the leftover skewers that had been used to roast some of their dinner over the fire, nothing more than sharpened sticks. He handed two to Artras and the third to Raven. “Place the skewers so they point in the direction of the ley lines from the Hollow, the town, and Erenthrall.”

Raven frowned. “I don't know if I can do it exactly.”

Hernande waved a hand. “It doesn't have to be precise.”

Artras had already knelt and placed one of the skewers, starting at Erenthrall. Raven watched her as she placed the second, one end at the town. Then she sat back and Raven set the third down, fussing with it as it tried to roll to one side.

When she stood, everyone leaned forward.

The three skewers met in an area west of Erenthrall and slightly south, yet still north of Tumbor.

“The White Cloaks' node must be in that area. Cory and I will search the sands there and see what we can find.”

Paul crossed his arms over his chest. “That still doesn't solve the problem of the raiders. They're waiting outside, searching for us. They aren't going to simply go away because you want to rescue this Wielder.”

“Why are they still here? If you've been hiding out for days now, why haven't they moved on?”

“They want the Wielders. They want our ‘White Cloaks' and those of us from the University. They want to kill us all for causing the Shattering.”

“Who are they? Do you know?”

“Their leader is named Aurek. He calls himself a Baron, of a place called Haven.”

Allan shared a glance with Cutter.

“The wagon train,” the tracker said.

“What wagon train?”

“When we were on the plains, right after we'd left, we saw a fire in the distance. Kent, Adder, and I went to investigate. It was a wagon train, being attacked by raiders. We never heard the name of their
leader, but after slaughtering everyone and burning the wagons to the ground, they said they were returning to Haven.”

Artras looked horrified. “You told us it was nothing, a lone wagon, its driver dead, the bandits gone.”

“Would you have felt better knowing the truth?”

“No. But I would have slept with my knife closer to my hand.”

“So these are the same people that attacked us earlier then,” Sophia said, “as we suspected.”

“Yes. And based on what you've said, they aren't going to leave until they have what they want.”

Allan stared into the fire, thinking. The others remained quiet, Artras poking a stick into the coals, Glenn chewing on a chicken wing, his beard already soaked in grease.

A long moment later, Allan looked up, met Hernande's gaze, then Bryce's. “I need to speak to this Baron Aurek.”

All of them looked startled except for Bryce. Allan wondered if he'd already figured out what Allan had planned.

“Not right now. It's the middle of the night.”

“No. Tomorrow. I need to get some rest. And I want to spend some time with Morrell.” He turned to Hernande and Cory. “You two need to find that ley node.” He started to rise.

Paul's face was twisted in confusion. “Speak to him? What are you going to do? What are you going to say?”

“I'm going to give him what he wants.”

Allan emerged from the woods along the stream that ran close to the remains of the Hollow's village shortly after dawn. At a point where the water ran through the cracks in a lip of stone, he crossed and climbed the bank on the far side. The charred supports of one of the cottages stood off to his right, the garden that surrounded it blackened and trampled. He stepped through the barely discernible paths around it and out onto the main road through the village. He paused once, at what had been his own cottage, but it had been reduced to cinders and ash. He continued toward the center of the village, passed the rounded communal oven, one side crushed in like an egg, then Sophia's cottage, Logan's, others, and finally halted near one of the standing walls of the town hall. The small square of open space in the center of the village
reeked of smoke and the dead. He counted seven bodies, the crows picking over two of them. He kept his eyes averted; he already knew who'd died here. Bryce had told him.

He picked a position out near the center of the square, shifting into the open, and then waited.

Twenty minutes later, the sun now angling down into the square on one side, two raiders appeared, both carrying buckets, chatting. One of them finished a joke and the other burst out laughing, and then they saw him.

Both froze, startled, then the one on the right swore, dropped his empty buckets, and drew his sword. The other did the same. They began to separate, circling him, so they could attack from two different directions.

Allan was forced to increase his assessment of their intelligence.

“I want to speak to Aurek.”

The two raiders paused. “Who are you?”

“Allan Garrett, an ex-Dog and member of the Hollow. This hollow. I have a proposal for him.”

Both of the men looked nervous when he mentioned being a Dog. Neither of them looked like they'd been trained extensively, dressed in rough clothes, with unkempt beards. He could smell their stench from here, even over the lingering smoke. But they
had
been trained, based on the way they'd reacted and currently held their swords.

They shared another look, a signal passing between them. Then the second lowered his sword and backed away, leaving the buckets where they'd been dropped. He vanished into the trees in the direction of the refugee camp.

Allan shifted his attention to the first, the one who'd spoken.

The man fidgeted. “He's going to inform Aurek.”

Allan didn't answer, which only seemed to make the raider more nervous.

As they waited, something rustled in the trees to Allan's left. He knew Cutter, Bryce, and two others had followed him, but they would have been behind him, out of sight. He shifted his stance, trying to catch movement out of the corner of his eye. Another raider? Had they already circled around to his flank?

A shadow loped from behind a tree, through shade, to a section of
concealing brush. Not human—too low to the ground, the motion too smooth. A wolf?

Or a Wolf?

He spun toward the left, hand falling to the hilt of his sword. But the forest was silent. Nothing moved, even the leaves still.

“What is it? What did you see?”

Allan turned back. The raider had used the distraction to come closer. He stood only ten paces away now, his gaze flicking from Allan to the woods and back again in suspicion.

“Nothing.” But Allan didn't drop his hand from the hilt.

Behind the raider, the man Allan had seen casually order the deaths of everyone in the wagon train—men, women, and children—emerged from the tree line surrounded by a dozen additional raiders. As he moved forward, his guard spread out. Half of them were archers, flights already drawn and trained on Allan. He assumed there were others now circling around him, unseen. He wondered if they'd find Bryce and the others. Or the Wolf.

As on the plains, Aurek was dressed in the rough finery of a lord, the fabric slightly worn, not quite as fine as what he'd seen while a Dog in Erenthrall. It was what the outlying lords might have brought with them to the city when invited by the true Baron to attend a party.

Aurek halted a step in front of the raider, who took a step back.

“Aurek.”

“
Baron
Aurek.”

“Lord of Haven, maybe, before the Shattering. No Baron.”

“You said you had a proposal.”

“You attacked us unprovoked. You've burned our buildings to the ground, looted what you could, killed whoever you could, yet you're still here. Obviously there's something else we have that you want.”

“You are harboring White Cloaks. Hand them over to us and we'll leave.”

“You're wrong. We don't have any White Cloaks here. We have only Wielders.”

“Wielders are White Cloaks. They're the ones who brought the world down around us, with their Nexus and their ley. We want to make them pay for what they've done.”

The men around him nodded in agreement. Allan scanned their
faces. He could understand their hatred. They had probably been working in their town or village when the Nexus shattered, sending shockwaves through the ley network. They would have seen the flare of the explosion on the horizon, in the distance, would have wondered what had happened, what the Wielders and the Baron were up to now. But they would have gone back to their work, unaware that Erenthrall lay in ruins, or that the pulse from the Shattering was headed their way. If they'd lived near one of the smaller nodes, that pulse would have caused a surge, maybe even exploded as it had in Erenthrall. Their lives would have changed drastically, all because of the Wielders and the Baron.

And they had Aurek to keep that hatred fresh.

He returned his attention to the lord. “We'll need the Wielders if we're going to fix what's happened. They can heal the distortion over Erenthrall. They can stop the quakes, halt the auroras.”

“Then why haven't they done that yet?”

“Because someone's killing them all off.”

“You lie.”

“The Shattering killed off all of the Primes. The Wielders who escaped aren't as powerful. They're regrouping, trying to figure out how to heal the distortion, how to stabilize the ley lines, which are what's causing the quakes. They need more time to—”

“Lies! Lies meant to protect themselves from justice. It's been months since the Shattering. They've done nothing in that time but sit back and watch the havoc and chaos the world's been thrown into. They don't deserve the chance to repair the damage they've done. The earth will heal itself in time.” He spat on the ground at his feet. “You have nothing for me. Kill him. We'll find the Wielders without him.”

Allan didn't flinch as bows creaked, the archers flexing muscles they'd allowed to relax during the conversation. “I know where the White Cloaks are hiding. The ones you're truly seeking.”

Aurek's hand shot up, forestalling the archers and halting the few men who'd started forward with swords drawn and readied. He turned back slowly.

“You know where the Needle is?”

“Our Wielders can find it.”

“The Wielders. Why would you tell me this? Why wouldn't you and your Wielders simply join the White Cloaks, then hunt us down?”

“Because they captured half of our party in Erenthrall. They killed at least one of us that wasn't a Wielder. I don't know what they've done with the others, but they were still alive the last time I saw them. Those of us that escaped followed them until they turned south, I'd guess returning to this Needle. We couldn't rescue them ourselves because of their guards—there were too many of them. We returned here to take back a larger force, but we found you here instead.”

“So you have no love for the White Cloaks either. I don't think many do, especially those in Erenthrall. Like the Primes before, they use their power to control.” He raised his chin. “You want to trade. The White Cloaks' location for your lives and those of your Wielders and mages.”

“No, I want your men. I want to save my Wielders and the rest of my group from the White Cloaks. I need your men to do it. Our lives and those of my Wielders and mages come with it. I doubt you can get close enough to the White Cloaks and their Needle to do it without them. You've already seen what they can do.”

Aurek's men fidgeted, a few glancing around sharply in fear, as if they expected the Wielders to appear out of thin air, ley boiling from their hands. But most turned to stare at Aurek, uncertain.

The lord of Haven had stilled. Allan could practically see his thoughts as he weighed the proposal. He didn't want to give up his position here—he knew he had the Hollowers trapped, that he could find their hiding place given time, that he could have their Wielders. But he didn't know how long they could hold out, or what the Wielders could do to defend themselves. He'd already lost men, and he didn't know how many more it would take to break the Hollowers. And for what, to kill a few Wielders? Perhaps lose the chance to find the White Cloaks?

All of that flashed through Aurek's eyes. Allan saw the moment Aurek decided to accept, his stance relaxing, weight shifting subtly.

And he saw the moment Aurek decided to betray them.

“We could simply attack you, capture you, force you to talk. Someone would break, eventually. Joss did.”

“You won't risk it. Only a few of us know their location. If all of us are killed, you'll have nothing but a few Wielders and the White Cloaks will be lost.”

“We'd find them eventually.”

“Perhaps.”

It was posturing, for his men, and both of them knew it.

“Very well. The location of the White Cloaks for your lives, and we'll let you tag along when we seize their Needle and cut their throats. Now, where are they?”