Martyr (35 page)

He would get Jarrett—and that future—back.

The slope eventually flattened out and was crossed by a highway. Further down and past an exit ramp, he could make out the colony glowing orange and unawares.

The wall surrounding the city was easily three stories tall, made of earth and steel and concrete, a strange amalgamation of magic and rusting technology. Even from here, he could see the spikes jutting above it, the twisted iron spires preventing anyone from scaling the wall. He had no doubt it was intended for those both within and without.

The stench of coal filled his nostrils, combined with woodsmoke and a nasty undercurrent of human refuse. The factories in which the remaining humans were forced to work were mysteries at best, things only seen from afar; no one had been inside and escaped. But Tenn had no doubt that the conditions were worse than the sweatshops from before the Resurrection. After all, if someone passed out or died from poor work conditions, they just became the next meal for the bloodlings and kravens waiting outside. Nothing lost.

He paused an arm's length away from the wall, staring up at the structure. The rusted steel was the color of blood, and the scent of inhumanity was stronger the closer he got. He pressed his fingertips to a patch of wall that looked like it was hewn from soil and stone. His Spheres stirred.

Earth and Water opened in his gut, and through them, he felt it all.

He felt the blood that had seeped its way to the bedrock of the place, the tears that had salted the soil and made it barren.

He felt the warren of crumbling houses and makeshift lean-tos that spread along the length of the wall. He felt the humans struggling to keep warm within.

Worse, he felt the kravens that patrolled the empty streets or prowled within cages of steel and razor wire. He felt a few kravens feeding.

And in the other houses, the ones closer to the nexus of the city, he felt other human figures, sleeping in warm beds with embers glowing in the fireplace. The necromancers and higher-level Howls.

Deeper, and he felt what must surely have been Leanna's house. It was a mansion, raised on a pedestal of magically churned earth, and it overlooked it all. He could barely sense the figures resting or patrolling the expansive corridors of that place. A part of him had hoped that he would sense the form that must be Jarrett, that he would somehow lock on to his lover's spark and know precisely where to go. But he just felt shapes, the blur of bodies. Jarrett could have been any of them.

Or none.

He half-expected for a sentinel to call out, for lights to flash and his location to be discovered. Apparently the runes were working, though, as the guard high up on the wall said nothing. Tenn was remarkably calm, despite everything. Locked in the far corner of his mind was the knowledge that the only thing separating him from one of the most powerful Howls in existence, as well as the hub of the North American army, was a few feet of earth and steel. He should have been quaking.

Instead, he felt at peace. He had been through and seen so much. This time he wasn't just fighting for survival or to find some unknown weapon. He was fighting for Jarrett. He was fighting for home. There was no room for fear. His duty was more important.

A large door was set into the wall a few feet to his left, twenty feet tall and made of thick, riveted steel the color of old blood. Maybe it
was
old blood. How the hell was he going to get in there? Not for the first time, he wished he was attuned to Air, if only so he could fly. It would have made this so much easier.

He looked behind him, to the blank snow that swept against cars and coated everything a perfect, unbroken white. The fact that he was well-concealed was actually a hindrance. Well, that was easily changed.

He opened to Earth.

It began as a tremor, then a crack that struck through the air like a gunshot, like ice breaking in the Arctic. With one great tug, he pulled at the steel rods and concrete of the road. It reared from the ground like a serpent, the cracks and metallic screeches of its movements making Tenn's teeth clench. The concrete viper twisted. He pulled it higher, made it arc overhead, its mass raining mists of snow and gravel hail. Its silhouette blotted out the stars above him. He moved it like a marionette, his fingers twisting as he worked his magic. And then, with a roar that sounded like the heavens falling, he crashed the great weight into the wall.

The structure gave immediately.

Large chunks of earth and steel collapsed as he let his hold on Earth vanish. The road collapsed on the wall, sent the whole chunk crumbling in a plume of ash and snow. Tenn dodged to avoid the debris, pressed himself flat to the remaining wall and watched the dust settle. And waited.

In a few hours, the twins would begin their attack, and he wanted this place to be in as much of a disheveled panic as possible before then. If that hadn't gotten the town's attention, nothing would. It would also make for an easy escape for the civilians.

Sure enough, only moments passed before he heard the first inhuman cries. Monsters swarmed over the felled wall, swelling into the otherwise-quiet night like a plague. Tenn pressed himself closer to the wall, dared himself not to breath. Thousands of kravens flooded into the landscape. They ran toward the remaining highway, spread out and toward the mountains. Tenn prayed the twins had stayed in the circle. A huddle of kravens ran past him, so close he could have reached out and touched the decaying grey flesh. Their jaws drooled saliva and congealed blood, their teeth broken, their bloodshot eyes and sagging nostrils seeking out whoever had done this. He couldn't help it. A kraven ran past—a boy, he thought, judging from the caked jeans and ripped shirt—and he laughed. Here he was, inches away from the monsters that had once made his hair stand on end. And they didn't even see him. He shot a pulse of Earth into the creature, made it stagger. It fell to the ground only a yard to his left, and he watched as the other kravens piled on top of it. The sound of ripping flesh filled the air, along with a putrid scent he couldn't place. Damn cannibals.

When the tide of kravens began to lessen, he edged along the opening and slipped into the town.

Guards huddled in a tight circle near the entrance, a few pointing at the wall and yelling. Tenn stayed far away, but he didn't need to be close to hear the anger on their voices.
What do you mean you couldn't sense any magic?
he could imagine them screaming. Another grin slashed across his face as he ran through the streets.

Don't worry
, he thought.
Leanna will be dead before you can be held responsible
.

The stench near the wall was overpowering. The place must have been a skiing village before Leanna turned it into her own personal prison and sweatshop. The buildings that lined the street all had high A-framed roofs and Swiss latticework hanging from the eaves. Dead strings of lights still twined over the roofs and empty windows. In spite of the smoke rising over the city, no fires burned within these dwellings. Still, Tenn could sense the people crowded inside, twenty or more to a house, all huddled together to stay warm. A few faces peeked timidly through the windows, drawn by the commotion outside, but not one of those gaunt figures stepped outside. Tenn couldn't blame them. There were still kravens and necromancers roving the streets. He had no doubt that the citizens were only safe within their hovels, and even those weren't guaranteed. He ran straight up the main street. It wasn't hard to figure out where to go—the pedestal of earth was in the center of the town, the chateau atop it glowing white with electricity. The closer he got, the nicer the houses looked. Smoke came from a few of these chimneys, smoke that didn't smell like coal or burning flesh. Wood smoke. If he closed his eyes and ignored the monsters running past him, he could have pretended he was camping in the woods, snow piling around his ankles… His eyes snapped open. The snow. He looked behind him, his heart hammering
stupid stupid stupid
, but the snow here was churned to hell and stained with dirt and…other things. Although his feet were making imprints, they were impossible to see in the churned-up muck. He sighed in relief. He might be invisible, but even a dumb kraven would notice footprints without a foot.

In minutes, he stood at the base of the earthen pedestal. It rose a good ten stories into the air, the sides sheer and glinting like granite. For a moment, he considered what it would be like having to scale the thing—not impossible, not with the strength of Earth, but not something he wanted to try—when he heard the clomp of boots to his right. He followed the noise and found a ramp cut into the side of the mound. Guards ran down in tight formation. They wore armor—like, medieval steel armor—and, of all things, carried assault rifles. The sight made him hesitate. Not out of fear—it was more the shock of seeing someone actually
using
a gun. Magic made bullets practically useless. Unless the guards had imbued each bullet with their own magic or blood, any mage could turn the projectiles against them.

When the guards passed by, heading the direction he had come, he made his way up the spiral ramp, keeping close to the wall lest another guard run past.

He didn't meet any. Wind howled past him, eddying with scents of char and industry, bringing and hiding the cries of the Howls that scoured the city for whoever had dared breach their defenses. Again, a smile. Oh, how pissed they would be when they learned he'd snuck in.

He reached the top of the rise and took a moment to stare in wonder at the house. It was grand—two stories tall with all-white siding and Roman columns, the great picture windows glowing with soft electric lights. The lawn was covered in snow, miniature topiary dusted and glowing with inner lights. The sight made Tenn's stomach roil. Just a hundred feet away, the rest of the town was dark and freezing. And here was Leanna, warm and comfortable, using more electricity in an hour than most of the States had seen in a year. He pushed through with Earth and felt for the figures inside. Again, he couldn't tell who was who, but there wasn't anyone resting now. Everyone was patrolling the labyrinthine corridors. He walked up to the front door. It was wood, with diamond glass windows that glinted invitingly. All this place needed was a tree glimmering in the foyer and it would look like a fucking Christmas card.

But now what? Could he sneak inside like before? He fed his senses through the door. Locked. Easy to fix with a flick of Earth, but would they notice? There was a small group of people in the front hall. Guards, no doubt. He bit the inside of his lip and wondered if maybe there was another entrance, one less guarded.

Then one of the guards opened the door.

It was a woman. She wore a thick black dressing gown. Her hair was black and spiraled behind her in loose ringlets. She left one crimson-manicured hand on the doorknob and scanned the exterior. Light-blue eyes, nearly grey. Tenn stiffened the moment that gaze swept over him. She looked awfully unarmed to be a guard. A necromancer, then?

“What is it?” someone inside called.

The corner of the guard's lip curled into a tight grin.

“I do believe our guest has arrived,” she said. Her nostrils flared. His grip on his staff tightened.

She stepped out onto the stoop and closed the door behind her. It latched, the sound like a gunshot in the night air. Then, before he could think to act, she took a deep breath.

It hit him like a punch to the gut.

He fell to the ground, staff skidding into a snowdrift. Stars flashed across his vision. Breath left his lungs. He tried to gasp, hands clenched to his chest. Then the stars spun, and he spiraled into darkness.

38

Cold
water hit him.

Tenn's eyes snapped open, and he tried to turn away from the freezing current. He was face down on the concrete, the world a harsh mix of fluorescent light and cold. He blinked, spluttered, rolled over to his side. He tried to push himself up to standing, but that made his head swim. He stayed under the spray and shivered.

That's when he saw his captors.

The woman from outside was there in front of him, still in the black dressing gown, the hem of which was getting soaked under the shower's jet. A man stood by her side. He was tall and lean, wearing a T-shirt and slim jeans, his blond hair slicked back loosely. Something about his appearance made Tenn think of all the old commercials for surfing in California—the defined features, the nonchalant pose with his hands in his pockets. But it was the woman who had his full attention. Her eyes were fixed on him like a hawk. Which should have been impossible.

“Now,” the woman said. “I will ask you nicely. Remove whatever enchantments you are wearing, and we will talk. Otherwise, I will have Justin remove your limbs one by one.” The man at her side smiled even wider at the mention of his name.

Tenn glanced down at himself. Of course. They could see his shape in the spray. There was no doubt that they would follow through with the threat. He glanced around the room. He was in a basement. The water siphoned into a drain next to a dusty water heater, and the rafters above were covered in cobwebs. Even if he did manage to dodge these two, the woman could fell him in a moment. She was a breathless one. She didn't even have to be able to see him to take him down.

So, against all his better judgment, he opened to Earth and bled out the runes, leaving only the tracking rune on his wrist. They didn't need to know about that one.

“Much better,” the woman said. “Now we can talk.”

She reached down and pulled him from the spray, yanking him to standing by the collar of his shirt. She looked willowy, but she nearly lifted him off his feet in that gesture.

“Who…who are you?” he asked. He tried to will his voice not to shake. It worked—mostly.

“Who do you think?” she asked, leaning over to whisper in his ear. Then, she did something that sent chills down his spine—she opened to Earth and shut off the tap.