Threading the Needle E-Book

Joshua Palmatier

• Herausgeber: Zombies Need Brains, LLC
• Kategorie: Fantasy und Science-Fiction
• Serie: Ley
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 832

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

ENTER A WORLD POWERED BY LEY LINES! Having survived the Apocalyptic Shattering of the Nexus---the hub created to harness the magical power of the ley lines---Wielder Kara Tremain and ex-Dog Allan Garrett have led their small group of refugees to the Hollow, a safe haven in the hills on the edge of the plains. But the ley system is not healing itself. Their only option is to repair the distortion that engulfs the city of Erenthrall and fix the damaged ley lines themselves. To do that, they'll have to enter streets controlled by vicious bands of humans and non-humans alike, intent on keeping what little they've managed to scavenge together from what's left of the city. And nothing in the city they once knew remains as it was. Everything has changed. All except one thing, the radical group of terrorists that many believe caused the Shattering in the first place: The Kormanley!

Leseprobe

Table of Contents

Title Page

Other Novels by Joshua Palmatier:

THREADING

Copyright © 2016 by Joshua Palmatier

DEDICATION

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Part I:

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Part II

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

The Epic Saga Continues in

About the Author

THREADING

THE NEEDLE

Other Novels by Joshua Palmatier:

The “Ley” Series:

Shattering the Ley

Threading the Needle

Reaping the Aurora

The “Well” Series:

Well of Sorrows

Leaves of Flame

Breath of Heaven

The “Throne of Amenkor” Series:

The Skewed Throne

The Cracked Throne

The Vacant Throne

The “Crystal Cities” Series:

Crystal Lattice (coming Summer 2024)

Crystal Rebel (coming Summer 2024)

Crystal War (coming Summer 2024)

THREADING

THE NEEDLE

A Fantasy Novel by

Joshua Palmatier

Zombies Need Brains LLC

www.zombiesneedbrains.com

Copyright © 2016 by Joshua Palmatier

All Rights Reserved

Interior Design (ebook): ZNB Design

Interior Design (print): ZNB Design

Cover Design by ZNB Design

Cover Art “Threading the Needle”

by Stephan Martinière

ZNB Book Collectors #32

All characters and events in this book are fictitious.

All resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions of this book, and do not participate or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted material.

First Printing, DAW Books Edition, July 2016

First Printing, Zombies Need Brains Edition, January 2024

Print ISBN-13: 978-1940709628

Ebook ISBN-13: 978-1940709635

Printed in the U.S.A.

DEDICATION

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 Need 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 pro- viding 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

Chapter One

Kara 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.”

“Did the attackers follow you?”

“I left that to Allan and the other Dogs. Ask him.” He turned toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Kara asked. The Dog stopped at the entrance, half turned. “Someone needs to tell Terrim’s wife that he’s dead.”

Then he was gone, replaced by the bright sunlight of midday.

Kara stood stock still, a hot ache in the center of her chest. She’d forgotten about Terrim in the rush to help Claye.

Hernande appeared in the door. He heaved two buckets of water up onto a smaller table set off to the side of the door, some of it sloshing onto the floor. He panted, his dark complexion tinged a deeper shade of red.

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “I should have brought the buckets one at a time.”

Kara didn’t have a chance to answer as Logan entered.

He took in everything with a quick glance.

“Everyone out,” he ordered, his voice deep and booming. He shifted to the table, two others coming in behind him. One of them was Morrell, Allan’s daughter. “Even you, Sophia. I’ll handle it from here. You’d only hover and be in the way.”

Sophia gave Logan a hard stare, which he ignored, already intent on his patient. Sniffing, she pulled back and let Logan and Morrell take her place. “We’ll be waiting in the meeting hall.” She ushered the others out before her, snagging one of Kara’s unused cloths to wipe her hands clean. Morrell took Kara’s place with a worried frown.

Kara gripped her hand and squeezed. “Bryce said your father was fine.”

Morrell gave her a relieved smile, then began tearing more bandages.

Kara stepped outside, exhaling harshly as tension sloughed from her shoulders. Sovaan, Hernande, and Sophia were standing with Cory, waiting for her. A few other members of the Hollow had gathered to see what the commotion was about.

“Will he be all right?” Hernande asked quietly, one hand stroking his scraggly beard as he contemplated the small cottage. A ragged bellow came from the open doorway, and Kara flinched.

“It’s hard to say. The arrow hadn’t penetrated that deeply. Thankfully, it was close to his side. I know there was a lot of blood, but he hadn’t yet passed out, which is a good sign. It will depend on whether Logan can get the arrow removed and the bleeding stopped.”

“Where did Bryce go?”

“To tell Sara that her husband is dead.”

“And the others?”

“Left behind to travel on foot.”

Hernande nodded. “Then there’s nothing we can do but wait.”

“Agreed.” Sophia paused long enough to eye the Hollowers watching, then announced, “The expedition to Erenthrall was attacked on their way back, and Claye was wounded. Logan’s seeing to him now. If you’d like to make yourselves useful, I’m certain Jasom could use some help unloading the new supplies from the wagon.” She lifted one eyebrow meaningfully. Those who’d gathered started, with some guilt, then began to disband.

Sophia shook her head, mumbling, “Gawkers and gossips, all of them,” under her breath, before heading to the long stone building that served as the village’s meeting hall. Kara and the others followed. “I don’t like the news that there’s a group operating so near the foothills, especially one proficient with the bow and arrow.”

“It does mark a change in tactics,” Hernande agreed. “And a shift away from the city.”

“What do you mean?” Sovaan asked as they entered the meeting hall. Sunlight poured in through the windows in shafts, revealing rows of seats scattered in the center of the room, tables shoved up against the walls, and a raised platform at the far end. A few of the decorations left over from the harvest festival months before remained—sheaves of grain tied with ribbons, gourds, cornstalks, a few dried flowers. The wooden floorboards creaked underfoot as they moved down the center of the room toward the platform.

Sophia began pulling wooden chairs into a rough circle. “After the Shattering, most of the people who’d lived within Erenthrall returned to the city, even with all of its dangers. Or they fled to some of the outlying towns, those connected to the ley lines near the city.

“Nearly all of you came from the University or were Wielders before. You were taken from your homes, from your families and familiar surroundings, and thrust into studies at the college or the University, exposed to new things, new ideas. Most of those in Erenthrall would have grown up and lived within only a few districts. Being forced to abandon everything would be terrifying.”

“Yes, yes.” Sovaan waved a hand impatiently. “So they returned to Erenthrall. Or as close as they could get. What’s your point?”

Sophia’s mouth pinched in annoyance. “My point is, now they’re leaving again. Why?”

“There isn’t enough food.”

All of them turned toward the still-opened doors, where Bryce stood in silhouette before moving deeper into the room. His entire stance radiated tension, danger. He reminded her of the Dogs combing the streets before the Shattering, following the Wielders, following her.

“The entire city has changed. It’s dividing up into sectors, each controlled by different groups—the Temerite enclave to the northeast, the Gorrani to the southwest, others. The Wolves have expanded into new territory. We heard them toward the end of our excursion. Allan was hunted and only escaped by going into the distortion and hiding out.”

“Is he all right?” Kara asked.

“A few cuts and bruises, nothing serious.”

“And how did the expedition go?” Sophia asked.

“It’s getting harder and harder to find anything of worth, especially food. There isn’t much that hasn’t spoiled in the parts of the city left unclaimed.”

“Which is why people are leaving,” Hernande said. “If they aren’t part of one of the main groups, then they’re running short on supplies. They’re being forced out, like we were.”

“And the attack on our wagon near the foothills means it isn’t only the city that’s dangerous. It’s spread to the plains.” Bryce sank into a chair and leaned forward. “They’re beginning to form larger, more organized groups in the towns surrounding the city. Our safe little haven here in the Hollow isn’t so safe anymore. We need to come up with some defenses. We need to protect ourselves.”

“We have sentries—” Sophia began.

“Four!” Bryce interrupted in frustration. “Watching the most obvious paths into the valley! That isn’t going to cut it. We need to come up with something better—scouts, patrols, expand the ranks of those who can fight beyond the few Dogs in my group. We need to protect ourselves before one of these bands finds us and attacks us here on our own turf!”

No one moved, facing each other across the rough circle of chairs.

Then Sophia shifted uneasily. “The Hollowers aren’t going to like that. We settled here to escape violence and the misuse of power.”

“Would you rather let the thieves and brigands overrun us all?”

“We’re deep enough in the foothills that I don’t think we’ll have to worry about it immediately,” Hernande said as Sophia stiffened. “But it is something we’ll have to consider as people become more desperate. Bryce is right: this valley is not easily defended.”

Sophia’s body didn’t loosen, but she said nothing. It was clear to Kara there would be resistance from the original Hollowers.

“What about the distortion?” Kara asked. “What about it?”

Kara shot Bryce a black look. “Has Erenthrall’s distortion changed at all? Does it show any signs of weakening? We won’t be able to return and rebuild Erenthrall if the distortion collapses and destroys everything inside before we find a way to heal it.”

“How in hells should I know? I’m not a damned Wielder.”

Shouts rang out from outside the meeting hall.

“Sounds like the rest of the expedition has returned,” Bryce muttered.

Kara almost pursued her questions about the distortion, but dropped the topic with a shake of her head. She rose and moved to the door, along with Hernande and Cory. Outside, the rest of those in the Erenthrall expedition were straggling in, some of them carrying the supplies Bryce had thrown from the wagon to make room for Claye, others helping a few wounded. Those in the Hollow rushed forward, taking the supplies and setting them aside or offering up water skins. A few of the expedition collapsed to the rutted road, their exhaustion evident in the lines of their faces.

The last stumbled in, with Allan and two other Dogs at their back. Kara sagged in relief. “I’ll go get Allan.”

Hernande caught her arm. “No need. He’s headed this way.”

The ex-Dog had seen them standing in the doorway and, after saying something to the other two Dogs, moved toward the meeting hall, accepting a skin from one of the boys.

“Claye?” Allan asked as soon as he was within range.

Hernande nodded toward the healer’s cottage. “Logan is working on him now. Bryce already informed Sara about Terrim.”

Allan’s shoulders sagged. He looked weary, dark smudges under his eyes. Kara noticed a few new cuts on his face, mostly healed, and the yellowed remnants of fading bruises.

“Did anyone follow you?”

“Not as far as I could tell. They retreated onto the plains, to the east.” His glance shot over Kara’s head, to the others waiting inside. He thrust his chin forward. “We should join them.”

They shifted back into the room.

“Did they attack again?” Sophia asked immediately. “No, and no one followed us into the foothills.” He looked toward Bryce. “Have you told them about the city?”

“About the Wolves, yes. I tried to convince them to increase our defenses, but they’re being stubborn.” Sophia bristled.

Allan grabbed a chair and settled in with the rest, slinging the bag he carried over one shoulder to the floor. “What about the quakes?”

Hernande and Cory glanced toward each other. “Quakes?”

“They haven’t ended. You may not have felt anything here, but they’re continuing in and around Erenthrall. We felt one on our way out, strong enough to collapse a few buildings.”

“We thought the earth was settling. Stabilizing.”

“I don’t think so.”

Hernande leaned forward. “We’ll have to take a look at the sands again, see if the ley has been disturbed.”

“Does it matter?” Sovaan demanded. “If the city has run out of supplies, then why would we want to go back?”

And there it was, what Kara had feared since the discussion began.

“We have to go back.”

“Why?”

“Because we have to heal the distortion. We have to repair the damage that we caused.”

Sovaan straightened in affront. “We didn’t cause this damage. The Nexus exploded because of the Baron and his Prime Wielders and the damned Kormanley. We are simply suffering the consequences. I say we leave the city to the Wolves and the scavengers, let them tear each other apart. We can start fresh here. The Hollow has everything we need.”

Sophia cut off Kara’s response. “The Hollow barely had enough food to feed those of us originally from here this past winter. We certainly didn’t have enough to feed those of you we took in. We survived on what was gathered from Erenthrall.”

“I thought that’s what the new fields were for,” Sovaan countered, “to grow enough food for all of us.”

Sophia’s eyes narrowed. “Crops and harvests are anything but certain. Weather, disease, drought—any of it could destroy everything. We need those supplies from the city. Besides, I don’t recall us agreeing to let you stay here long-term in the first place.”

Allan reached for his bag. “The city provides more than just food. I found these in an apothecary.” He pulled out a few small bottles and handed them around.

Sophia gasped as they reached her. “Logan would kill for this bottle of seranin alone. And I ran out of devil’s claw before the Shattering.” She clutched the small vial close to her chest. “It helps with the arthritis in my hands.”

“I don’t understand,” Kara said. “I thought you’d already raided all of the apothecaries in the uncontrolled areas of the city. Where did you get these?”

“Inside one of the shards.”

It took a moment for it to sink in, but when it did Kara’s eyes widened. “You pulled these out of the distortion?”

“The Wolves trapped me close to the distortion. The only way to escape was to go inside. But the pack’s leader— a man half-transformed, like Hagger—set the Wolves on watch around the shard, waiting for me to come back out. I was forced to move deeper into the distortion to bypass them, and along the way I found the apothecary.” He pulled out a glass jar of peaches. “Along with this. There was enough food in that shard to last us a few days, perhaps a week. None of the others in Erenthrall can reach it.”

Hernande was chewing on the end of his beard now, head bowed in thought. “Is there another way to gain access to these supplies?”

“I can take someone into the distortion with me, but getting them in and back out would be unpleasant.”

“That’s not what I meant. We’ve been discussing how to heal the distortion. While we all agree we don’t have enough Wielders or mentors to take it down all at once, what about healing a single shard at a time?”

Kara drew breath to protest, but paused.

They’d never considered healing it piece by piece.

She glanced up at the others, all waiting expectantly. “It might work. But we’d never be able to heal the entire distortion this way. There are hundreds of shards, if not thousands. It would take too long.”

“What could go wrong?”

“Distortions are delicate. Any change in its configuration, like the removal of a shard, could cause it to unbalance. We may unwittingly set off its closure. And then everything and everyone currently trapped inside would be killed or destroyed. We’d never be able to recover the central part of Erenthrall.”

The group grew somber.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bryce said abruptly. “We can’t pin all of our hopes on the crops. And we can’t count on remaining hidden here in the foothills, not with these groups arming themselves and venturing out onto the plains. We need those supplies trapped in the distortion, and we need to start work on defending ourselves here, at the Hollow.”

“What do you propose?” Sophia asked.

Bryce stood, reaching for the bag Allan still held. The ex-Dog handed it over.

“We need to send some of the Wielders, with protection, to Erenthrall, to see if they can get at the supplies in the shards. As for the Hollow, I don’t have enough Dogs here to protect it fully. We need to start training some of the others to fight. With swords, bows, anything else we can find. Crops will be worthless if we get raided.”

He slung the bag of medicine and food up over his shoulder and headed for the door. “I’m going to hand this over to Logan and then go to my tent. It’s been a long, bitter few days.”

They watched as he stepped outside and turned left, out of sight.

“He’s right,” Allan said grudgingly. “The attack on the wagon only emphasizes what we saw in the city. We need better defenses.”

“Paul won’t like it,” Sophia said. “Nor some of the others. They’ll claim that the only reason we’re at risk is that we took you in, and we should kick you out now.”

“These groups would be coming whether we’d come here or not. Would Paul and the rest rather wait to have their throats slit one night, when one of the groups finds the Hollow? Because that’s what will happen eventually.”

Sophia’s lips pursed at the gruesome image. “No, I suppose not.”

“Then I suggest you start training people to wield swords and handle bows.”

The elderly woman still appeared resistant. “I’ll have our trackers start drilling those interested in archery. At worst, we could always use additional help with the hunting. And I’ll tell the rest they can go to the Dogs for training with swords if they want.”

“Good.” Allan turned to Kara. “You need to speak to the Wielders and figure out how to heal one of the shards. I don’t want to wait too long before returning to the city.”

Kara contained a surge of excitement. They’d become too complacent here in the Hollow. They needed to begin work on retrieving Erenthrall before that complacency spread. “I’ll meet with them right away. Working to heal a few shards may give us an idea of how to heal the entire distortion, something we haven’t thought of yet. We won’t lack in volunteers, even if Erenthrall is still dangerous.”

“It’s still dangerous. Perhaps more so than before the Shattering.”

Chapter Two

Kara lay in the darkness of her and Cory’s tent, listening to Cory’s deep breathing and the utter quiet of the night. It was close to dawn; she could taste the dew on the chill air. Earlier she’d heard others rousing to relieve the patrols Bryce had set up. He’d paired one of his Dogs with one of the Hollower trackers and a third untrained man or woman, each team walking the edge of the valley at set intervals. There were at least three such teams on patrol at any one time, in addition to the two set to watch the passes where the creek entered and left the valley. In another hour, she knew she’d hear the muted clang of those practicing with swords at the far end of the meadow. Kara and Cory’s tent was too distant to hear the thunk of the arrows hitting the practice targets.

“Can’t sleep?” Cory’s breath felt warm against her neck.

“No. I’ve been awake for hours.”

He kissed the nape of her neck, then rolled away with a sigh. She twisted to face him.

“Worried about going to Erenthrall?”

“Yes. I’m worried about the distortion, about our attempts to heal it. What if we trigger the distortion’s collapse? I know we can’t restore Erenthrall completely, not after what’s happened, but we could at least make it a refuge, a place of safety for the survivors. Think about all of the people who are trapped inside it. We saved a few, but if the distortion collapses…”

“Those people would want you to try to free them. Besides, I thought you said that even if you can’t release one shard at a time, the attempt will give you more information about how the distortion is formed.”

“It will. And I know we have to try. But still, the distortions are so unstable.”

“The world is unstable. After the attack on the wagon, I don’t even think the Hollow will be a haven much longer.” Kara heard rustling from a tent nearby, followed by the slap of a tent flap being thrust aside, then silence. Cory stilled, both of them listening. Someone yawned and shook themselves, then there was a clank of metal against metal

before the sounds moved off.

“Sword practice,” Cory murmured softly.

Outside, they heard more rustling as others rose and headed toward the practice yard.

“I haven’t been back to Erenthrall since the Shattering,” Kara said. “From what Allan and the others describe, it isn’t remotely like it was before. Confluence, Eld, Stone, even Grass and Copper. I’m not certain I want to see it now. I don’t want to see the damage that the Wielders have done.” Cory sat up. “The Wielders didn’t cause the Shattering.

The Baron did, and the Kormanley.”

“Did they? I know that Marcus did something to cause the blackout just before the Shattering. What if he unbalanced something in the Nexus? What if that’s what caused the explosion?”

“You don’t know it was Marcus who caused the blackout. You only know it was someone in Eld, based on what you saw in the sands before the Dogs took you.”

“It was Marcus. I know it.”

Cory gave a weary groan; they’d had this argument before, many times. “It doesn’t matter now, does it?” She could hear him shifting around the tent, pulling on clothes. “The Nexus is destroyed. We’ll likely never know exactly what caused it, or who brought it down—Marcus, the Kormanley, the Baron. We have to deal with what’s happening now.”

Kara tensed, ready to keep the argument going, but then relented. Marcus, the Baron—all of them were dead.

“Where are you going?”

“To the practice yard.”

Kara suddenly sat up. “The yard?”

“I need to learn how to use a sword. At least the basics.”

“Of course.” She wasn’t even certain what was bothering her. Except, like the cottages, it was one more sign that they were moving further and further away from Erenthrall.

She reached out and caught Cory’s arm in the darkness. “Don’t go today.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” She fumbled for a reason. “Because I need you to show me the ley system in Erenthrall in the sands again.”

“It won’t do any good. The ley is changing too fast. It won’t be remotely the same by the time you reach the city.”

“I know.”

Cory was silent, then sighed. “Get dressed then.”

Kara threw the blanket aside and scrambled into clothes, touching the heating stone to turn it off.

When they stepped out into the predawn darkness, the chill air sucked Kara’s breath away. She rubbed at her arms as Cory pulled the tent flap back into place and secured it, then they headed toward the village, many of its residents already up and doing chores.

They reached the barns, lamplight glowing from inside the last of the stone-lined stalls. When she and Cory rounded the corner, they found Hernande and Artras leaning over the sand pit, scrutinizing the shifting sands beneath them. Both of them looked up.

“Kara!” Artras said, rising stiffly from her crouch. The elder Wielder pulled Kara into a tight hug, then held her at arm’s length. “Are you ready to return to Erenthrall?”

“No. But I am eager to see if we can finally do something about the distortion.”

“So am I. Not all of us want to remain here in the Hollow like Sovaan.” She motioned toward the sand pit. “I asked Hernande to show me the state of the ley before we depart. I assume you had the same idea?”

“That’s why we’re here.”

“Then take a look.” Artras hunkered down at the edge of the pit, Cory joining her. Kara moved around to the far side with Hernande.

“The chaos of the ley lines is rather interesting.” Hernande’s tone was that of a University mentor. “I am convinced there is a pattern here. Nature is not generally prone to complete disarray. The ley lines must be attempting to establish a new network.”

Kara knelt down, knees pressed into the stone they’d used to line the floor and pit. The sands that filled it had already been set to Erenthrall and were moving in eddies and swirls, some of them slow, others accelerated, the lines merging and flowing. Occasionally, a spurt of sand erupted upward, like a geyser. The shifting sand created a soft hissing sound that Kara found soothing most of the time, but today the noise irritated her.

The center of the pit was nearly static, the active ley lines cut off by the distortion in a perfect circle. Inside that circle, where reality was shattered, there were only a few localized areas where the sand shifted, indicating a shard where time was still moving forward and the ley trapped there was attempting to realign itself. Kara, Hernande, and the others all agreed that the ley in these shards was attempting to form its own network, but in most, there wasn’t enough ley for it to organize. A few of the shards were completely full, edges well defined, as if something had ruptured and flooded the region.

Hernande pointed toward the distortion. “I believe, from what Allan has been able to tell us, that this is the section where he was forced inside the distortion by the Wolves.”

“It doesn’t appear those shards are holding much ley.”

“No,” Artras said, “which is a good thing. My guess would be that fixing a shard that contains active ley would be more difficult than one without. We wouldn’t want to break down the walls of a shard flooded with ley, for example, only to have it rush unrestricted into a section of the city that may be occupied.”

Kara shivered at the image. Ley was harmless in its natural state, but if it were concentrated, it could be deadly. She recalled the stories about the sowing of the towers in Grass before the Shattering, where some of the lords and ladies of the city and surrounding areas had risked exposure to the ley by watching from unprotected balconies. They’d been killed, their bodies consumed by the ley when it touched them.

And then there was the Shattering itself. When the Nexus had exploded, the ley had devoured everything organic within a certain radius of the center that wasn’t protected in some way. Kara and most of her fellow Wielders in the Hollow had only survived because they were locked away in cells beneath the Amber Tower. The same was true for Allan, Morrell, and the Dogs in their group. If Kara had been out in the streets, doing her rounds as a Wielder, she would have been killed. Most of the other survivors who had found their way to the University and then the Hollow had also been protected in some way.

She pushed aside the grim thought of what would have happened had she not been captured by the Dogs and shifted her attention to the rest of the ley. “It looks like the two rivers have settled into new courses.”

“They’re flowing through what were once streets, their banks now defined by buildings and the debris collected at their edges. But note these areas here and here.” Hernande pointed to two locations outside the distortion. “They appear to be stable points in the general chaos of the ley.”

“How can you tell?” They didn’t appear any different than the rest of the ley.

Cory answered. “We’ve been watching them for the past few months. Everything else is shifting, reorganizing, but these two locations haven’t moved.”

“So the ley is attempting to establish a new system around the distortion, as we thought,” Artras said brusquely.

“Why hasn’t it stabilized, then?”

Artras shrugged. “Who knows how long it will take? We have no point of reference. The ley system we were using was always there. Only recently did we humans have the arrogance to try to manipulate and change it. And look where it got us.”

Kara glanced up at the older woman’s stern expression. For a moment, she’d sounded like Ischua, the Tender who had discovered Kara’s talent and guided her after her parents’ deaths.

Kara motioned toward the map. “I don’t see anything around the area Allan found that will cause us any problems. The ley there appears relatively stable.”

“Yes,” Hernande agreed, “but remember that it is always changing. By the time your group arrives, it may be more volatile. Especially if the earthquakes have continued. We’ll keep watch here, of course, but we won’t be able to send word if something changes.”

“I know.” Kara rose. “Allan and the others are probably ready now. We’d better gather our things.”

Now that she’d seen the ley system, the fears and anxiety she’d felt before dawn had receded, replaced by resolve. The same resolve she’d felt standing on top of the building after being pulled from the distortion by Allan and seeing the blazing white lights of the unquickened distortions over Tumbor, Farrade, and the other cities in the distance. She’d set it aside over the past few months to focus on survival, but it gripped her again now.

Kara bit her lip at the stricken look on Cory’s face, but turned and left with Artras, the older Wielder taking her arm as soon as they were out of sight. “He’ll be fine. You simply haven’t been farther away from each other than a few minutes’ walk in a few months. He’ll adjust.”

Kara didn’t trust her voice enough to say anything.

Artras and Kara hustled to the refugee’s meadow. Artras broke away from Kara and headed toward her own tent, shared with Dylan. Kara thrust her own tent flap back and reached inside, her pack waiting. She pulled it toward her, ready to step back outside into the dew-laden air, but she paused. The inside of the tent, still warm from the heating stone, smelled like Cory, his musk like earthen loam mixed with a faint spice that tickled her nose. She drew it in, committed it to memory, then released it and closed the tent again. Swiveling on the balls of her feet, she pulled her arms through the straps on her pack and settled it as she wove through the tents back toward the village.

As soon as she rounded Logan’s cottage, she saw Cory, Hernande, Artras, Allan, and the rest of the group surrounding the single wagon they were taking into the city. It was already loaded with the few supplies they weren’t carrying in their own packs. Two horses were hitched and stamping their feet, impatient to get moving. Kara noted four Dogs, all grouped around Allan. Aside from Artras, two other Wielders were going with them: Dylan and a younger Wielder named Carter. Two men from the refugees and two others originally from the Hollow—none of whom Kara knew well—would help gather the supplies once they were freed.

She noted Morrell standing close to her father. As she watched, the young girl—young woman, she realized with a start—suddenly reached out and hugged her father close before pulling back. Allan stroked her long golden hair, but caught her shoulders when she pulled away, saying something to her that Kara couldn’t hear, a serious expression on his face. Morrell nodded and Allan nearly patted her head before catching himself.

Both Sophia and Paul were standing to one side, Paul scowling as usual.

Allan glanced around. “We’re all here. Let’s head out so we reach the plains before nightfall.”

“Don’t take any risks.” Sophia gripped Kara’s hands in her own. “We need you here more than you need to heal the distortions.”

Behind her, Paul grunted in disdain.

Hernande shifted a discreet distance away as Kara turned to Cory.

“I’ll be careful.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and drew him in close. “And I’ll be fine.” She kissed him, then pulled away before her confident facade could crack.

One Dog and one Hollower had already taken the driver’s seat and hied the horses to the edge of the forest, the rest trailing behind or already out in front. Artras was waiting for Kara to catch up. She said nothing as Kara rubbed at her face with her sleeves.

Then the group passed into the shadow of the trees, and the Hollow fell behind.

* * *

“Should we camp within the tree line, since there’s only an hour or so before dusk?”

Allan stared out at the rolling edge of the plains. “We’ll be traveling the grass for days. If there’s someone out there, watching for us, they’ll see us whether we move now or later.” He met the Dog’s gaze. “Be on your guard.”

Glenn nodded, the gesture the sharp acknowledgment of a Dog to his superior, before retreating back into the woods to fetch the wagon and the others. Allan had been concerned the Dogs would assume Bryce’s disdain for him and be insubordinate, but without Bryce here to goad them, they’d settled into the familiar framework that had existed in their packs before the Shattering. It was like the den before, with Hagger. Allan’s old partner had been the instigator, gathering around him those that would follow his lead. But Bryce wasn’t half as bad as Hagger had been.

He continued to scan the horizon as he heard the wagon trundling up from behind. Glenn and Adder appeared in his peripheral vision, and he motioned them out onto the plains, one to either side. They trotted up to the nearest rise, hands raised to shield their eyes from the sun, then signaled all clear.

Allan sought out Gaven, who was driving the wagon. “Everyone stay close to the wagon. We don’t see anyone, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Tim and Kent, form up behind. Glenn, Adder, and I will take the lead.”

Gaven snapped the reins, and the horses pulled the wagon out from the protection of the trees. Allan waited until Tim and Kent were settled a short distance behind the main group, then trotted forward to where Glenn and Adder were already ranging out into the distance.

An hour later, with the sun sinking into the horizon, he called a halt in a shallow depression that would provide them some cover. The group broke into action with a palpable sense of relief. The Hollowers and Dogs immediately began setting up the camp, unloading the few supplies they had and establishing a perimeter and guard positions. Gaven unhitched the horses, leading them off to be fed. The Wielders looked bewildered.

As Allan returned to the wagon, Kara stepped forward, the Wielders behind her.

“What can we do?”

He paused to consider, noting the Hollowers already clearing a space for the fire to one side. “Can you create a heating stone out here? I have us camped out of the line of sight of anyone on the plains, but a fire would still be risky.”

“We can try.”

“Do it. Otherwise, you can help with the cooking. We won’t be using the tents tonight, only pallets.” He motioned toward the clear sky.

Kara turned to the others, already issuing orders. They broke up into groups, two heading toward where the Hollowers were trampling down grass in a rough circle, Kara and Artras toward where the grass had been cleared and a pit dug for the fire. They both hunkered down and closed their eyes, after ordering one of the younger Hollowers to search for a large stone.

When nothing happened for a long moment, except subtle shifts in their expressions, Allan shook his head and made the rounds of the camp, checking in on the Dogs.

By the time the sun had set in a blaze of blood red, the stars brittle overhead, half-moon to one side, Kara and Artras were holding their hands out to the glowing heating stone with smug grins on their faces and the Wielders and Hollowers were already setting up a tripod with a hook over it. A husk of corn was soaked and laid over the stone, cuts of venison spread out, filling the small depression with the scent of cooking meat.

Allan steered clear of the heating stone, knowing he’d disrupt it, and drifted out to the edge of their camp, passing Glenn in the darkness. He settled down into the ankle-high grass on a knoll and stared into the distance, toward the bright dome of the distortion in Erenthrall. The varied lights from its shards appeared to pulse, as bright as the moon, although it was a pinkish orange color, striated with streaks of brighter greens and purples. Off to the right, low on the horizon, he could make out a faint star: the distortion hovering over Farrade. Farther to the west, he could see the much brighter white light of the distortion over Tumbor. It was only marginally closer than Farrade. The fact that it shown so much brighter meant that it was significantly more powerful than the one in its sister city. When it quickened…

Allan reached forward to pluck at the grass before him.

He pulled a stalk and stuck it in his mouth, chewing on the tender end. A short time later, he heard someone approaching from behind, feet swishing through the grass. Kara settled down, cross-legged, beside him. There was just enough light from the moon and distortion to see her shadowed features.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kara said. “And deadly.”

“I know that, more than most. But it’s still beautiful. I remember when I first saw one, there in Erenthrall, when I was younger. It bloomed in the air before me and Cory and—” Her voice caught. Then she continued: “It just appeared, in the middle of the street, no bigger than my fist. I wanted to reach out to touch it, to heal it, more instinct than anything else. I wasn’t a Wielder yet. But the adults nearby stopped me.” A wry smile turned her lips. “We were running from the Dogs at the time.”

Allan looked toward her, eyebrows raised, and she burst into a laugh, shaking her head.

“It’s not what you think. We were playing Thistles in the square when the Dogs came to raid a nearby flat. We ran, even though they weren’t after us. We were kids.”

Allan wanted to ask her about the name she’d swallowed, but didn’t. “If the Wielders knew about the distortions that early, why didn’t they stop them?”

“I don’t think they knew how. All we could do was heal them. Now the Primes… I don’t know what they knew. Even if Prime Wielder Augustus knew what was causing them—and I’d guess that it had something to do with the Nexus and the overuse of the ley system—do you really think Baron Arent would have allowed him to fix it if it threatened his hold on the ley and the other Barons?”

Allan thought about his few meetings with the Baron and the Prime Wielder. “No, he wouldn’t. But Augustus was obsessed with the Nexus. If it were unstable, he would have attempted to repair it.”

“If he could have repaired it, he would have.”

“Maybe it wasn’t the Wielders or the Primes. Maybe the Nexus didn’t need to be fixed.”

Kara looked toward him, half of her face in shadow, her body tense. “You mean the Kormanley?”

“They certainly caused enough havoc before I left for the Hollow.”

Kara’s hand tore viciously at the grass before her. He expected her to launch into a tirade about how destructive they’d been, but she surprised him.

She stopped shredding the grass and looked toward Erenthrall. “Do you think we deserved it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Some of those in the Hollow believe that the Shattering was a punishment, the vengeance of the gods, brought down upon us for our abuse of the ley.”

“It wasn’t the act of a god. It was Prime Wielder Augustus’ arrogance and Baron Arent’s greed. I was in the Amber Tower. I saw it.”

“And some of them—not just the Hollowers, but a few of the refugees who came with us—believe that it’s the Wielders’ fault.”

“They’re fools.”

“But we were misusing the ley. The distortions, the blackouts—they were all signs that we’d pushed the network too far. Yet we didn’t stop. Nature tried to warn us and we didn’t listen. Look what happened.”

She gestured out toward the plains, toward the distant glaring dome of the distortion. They sat in silence, the stillness of the plains interrupted from behind by those in the camp.

Then Allan said, “It’s changed completely. And I don’t mean just Erenthrall. On my excursions to the city before the Shattering, to gather supplies for the Hollow, I’d sit on the hilltops and look down at it from afar. Ley lines spread out from it in all directions, like a web stretching to the towns and villages that dotted the plains. The web is gone now. The plains are dark.”

Kara shifted her attention to the rest of the plains. There were a few spots of light scattered here and there outside the dome, close to the city; places where the ley system was intact, but obviously wild. White light flickered to the east, where Allan knew a plume of ley shot into the sky a hundred feet high. Almost directly on the path between the Hollow and the distortion, a large lake of ley had pooled in a low-lying area, what had once been a village. The spire of the town’s stone meeting hall jutted out of the center of the lake, a few of the larger buildings’ roofs visible as well. Besides pinpricks of white ley light in various other locations, they could make out a few outcroppings of firelight—again, all close to the city.

Kara pointed toward the brightest of the firelit sections. “What’s that?”

“The Temerite’s enclave. They were the most organized right after the Shattering. They seized hold of a few districts that hadn’t been as severely damaged as the others and walled them in using the stone from collapsed buildings. The fire you see is actually dozens of bonfires set on the walls. They keep them lit so they can patrol and keep scavengers out. The smaller fire, farther to the south, is the Gorrani camp. There are rumors of an Archipelago compound on the far side of the distortion. And of course there are other encampments scattered between them all. But before the Shattering, there were ley lights three or four times that distance out into the plains, especially along the Tiana and Urate, and southward toward Farrade and Tumbor. All of those towns and villages are dark now.”

“The ley is still there, running through those towns. It’s just not being augmented by the Nexus like it was before.”

“Is that what you intend to do if you can heal the distortion? Create a new network?”

“Not like what the Baron and Prime Wielder Augustus had,” Kara said harshly. “They abused the ley to retain their power. But the world needs somewhere safe to travel, somewhere the ley is stable and that can be easily protected. If we can heal the distortion, we can make Erenthrall a home again, without the Baron and the Dogs and the Primes controlling everything.”