The Turquoise Tower (Revenant Wyrd Book 6) (8 page)

But none of them really knew. They had learned about the heavenly host and the angelic hierarchy in religion class, but outside of that, they didn’t know much.

“Well, the one thing I do know,” Joya said after several moments of silence. “It doesn’t matter if our wyrd is angelic or human, I can sense the wyrd of other beings, and I’m sure those fallen can also.”

Cianna worried the edge of her lip. She didn’t like thinking of Altavius being out there alone, and she needed to get to him, but if what Shelara and Russel suspected was true, she wouldn’t be able to get close to him physically. She knew that he could come and go as he pleased, and Cianna suspected that if he was afraid of her now, he would only retreat as she got closer. She had to do something to get him back with her.

Maybe leaving something behind? A bit of my wyrd in the cave that tells him it’s okay?

Maeven pushed back through the entrance of the cave and held the carcasses of the rabbits up high. “We eat another night!”

“Oh, perfect!” Joya clapped. Russel took the rabbits from him and tucked them away in the waxed pack near the entrance of the cave where they would stay cold and fresh.

Caldamron went to the back and started talking to Shelara, who lost all traces of the calm her weed was instilling in her.

“There’s danger,” she told them all as Jovian and Angelica came back inside.

“Yes, there is.” Jovian agreed.

“We’re being followed,” Angelica said.

“Again?” Joya asked. “And why didn’t you know this?” She turned her gaze toward Maeven. “Isn’t that normally your line?”

He splayed his hands out to his sides with an incredulous look.

“This is serious,” Angelica said. “At least one verax-acis.”

“And we found a black shuck print.”

“Rose,” Dalah said. “Are you okay?”

The plump sorceress’s leg was pinned to the ground, with Rosalee underneath her. Dalah had had enough foresight to realize they weren’t going to make it out of the tunnel, and had thrown herself between Rosalee and the falling ceiling. Miraculously Rose still lived. The rocks above them had created a shelter of sorts, and hadn’t completely closed in on them. Dalah didn’t dare use wyrd to get them out of the situation, because she knew she wasn’t strong enough to move the entire mass of stones pinning them to the floor.

Dalah did a cursory scan with her wyrd to see if Rosalee was injured. Though only one of the seer’s legs was crushed, under a large stone, she had knocked her head hard on impact and wasn’t responding to Dalah.

Dalah considered calling for help, but who would hear her under the debris? Above she could hear horses whining in pain and other people yelling for help; even a few people coming to aid those who had fallen in.

But we’re on the bottom,
Dalah thought.
Everyone else made it out before the ceiling caved in. Did they even see us?

Dalah remembered seeing the group of people gathered at the end of the tunnel and wondered why they hadn’t helped. But they’d seen her. With any luck someone would speak up.

A rain of dust and loose stone tumbled around her head, and Dalah put as much of herself between the debris and Rosalee as she could. She held her breath, waiting for the crushing weight that would end Rosalee’s life, but it never came.

Something else was coming, however, and that was fresh air. As the debris settled around her head, Dalah could see a shaft of light slice across the stone before her. There was hope. Grace had to know what had happened. They were supposed to show up for lunch … unless they were out exploring. There was no way that any of her group would link her absence at lunch with this accident.

“Hold on, Rose,” Dalah whispered. She wasn’t sure if Rosalee could even hear her, but it made her feel better to talk to her old friend. “I’m going to get help.”

In the darkness of their prison, yellow wyrd formed into an orb before Dalah’s mouth.

The door at the end of the hall thumped loudly. Grace looked up from where she sat reading in the lobby of the Ivory Tower. She had wanted to tell Rose and Dalah what had happened in the meeting, but all of her group had found the prospect of exploring the largest city in all the realms more interesting than waiting in the dimly lit lobby for word from Grace. Still, most of the people gathered in the lobby were in groups of their own. From time to time someone tried to strike up conversation with Grace, but her icy stare had stopped them. She was reading, didn’t they see that?

Why in the Realms do people think that just because you’re sitting down with a book they have to rescue you from your boring fate? Don’t they enjoy reading? Is there an invitation on the back of the book that says, “Hey, I’m bored, talk to me?”

She had said that much to one person. At first they’d laughed, but when she didn’t join in their laughter their face lost all traces of civility and they had wandered off mumbling. Grace had just started getting into reading once more when the door started thumping.

She looked around her, but no one seemed to hear the door except her. Finally, when the thumping started rattling the door in its frame, Grace huffed and pushed to her feet. Wedging a finger in her book to keep her place, she walked down the short hall to the entrance door.

She opened it and immediately a yellow orb charged through the opening, bounced along on the walls, and then whizzed up the stairs.

Frantic message,
Grace thought. It always astonished her how wyrd acted in accordance with the mood of the sender. As she closed the door the yellow wyrd shuttled back down the stairs and straight at her. It halted moments before slamming into her. Grace backed away, book poised to smack the wyrded orb if it got too close. But then she saw the words of the message swirling around the surface moments before the orb spoke aloud.

“Grace,” Dalah’s anxious voice spoke from the depths of the shimmering orb. “There’s been an accident in the Eastern Mall Bazaar. Rosalee and I are trapped under the debris.”

“Dear Goddess,” Grace said, her feet carrying her plump body hurriedly up the stars and to where she knew the Realm Guardians were gathered for lunch.

She only realized she was gasping for breath when she reached the third floor landing. Her feet pounded their way down the carpeted corridor to the chamber at the end. The orb followed her, still reporting what was happening, and what Dalah could see. But it didn’t matter; Grace had heard enough to know precisely where they were.

She didn’t bother knocking on the door when she arrived. Instead she charged in.

Aladestra held up a hand to silence Grace as she slid to a halt before the table. There was a purple orb floating beside the Realm Guardian, and she was listening to a similar report.

“And there are people and horses trapped. We aren’t sure what caused it yet, the survivors are too shaken to make any sense.”

“Fallen,” Grace reported between gasps for air. “That’s what Dalah’s orb said.”

“Grace, what’s going on?” Sara rose and went to her sister, placing her hands on either side of Grace’s shoulders, trying to calm her.

“Dalah and Rose were in the Eastern Mall when the ceiling collapsed. It was a fallen angel.” Grace motioned behind her to the orb, but already the orb was vanishing, whirling out of existence in a scattering of wyrded dust.

“Alright,” Aladestra said. “We need to attend to this. Grace, give me a moment.”

Aladestra seemed to quiver with power when she stood, and she cupped her hands before her face. As she started to speak, lavender wyrd formed in her palms, swirling with the words of her message.

“I want all available sorcerers to the Eastern Mall Bazaar helping the clean-up.” She tossed the orb at the opened window. Again, she started speaking into her hands as another lavender orb formed. “I want all on-duty constables searching for any persons who look out of place. Especially if they scare you.”

“Alright, she’s going to be a while,” Sara said, steering Grace toward the door by the crook of her elbow. Aladestra nodded in agreement without breaking the commands she was giving the orbs. “Let’s go see what we can do. You said Dalah and Rosalee were trapped?”

“Yes,” Grace told her. They left the room in silence, followed by the other Realm Guardians down the corridor and to the entrance door, out into the light of the chilly afternoon.

The cobbled roads outside were in chaos. Sorcerers in various attire were speeding across the streets in a haste that only wyrd could achieve, each step taking them the distance of three. Constables in their gray uniforms were scouting the area in groups that Grace was sure were mirrored around the rest of the city. But how could they search for something that was able to fly out of sight?

Still other people, gawkers standing on the sidewalks, pressed against buildings, craned their heads to get a glimpse of the bazaar not far ahead. Grace could see the destruction from where she stood. Her heart sank to think that Dalah and Rosalee were trapped under the cave-in.

“Alright Grace, we’re going ahead,” Sara said as the other Guardians joined the throngs of sorcerers speeding toward the wreckage. “Catch up to us.”

And Sara was gone, speeding over the cobbles toward the Eastern Mall.

When Sara arrived there were already several sorcerers and other wyrders shifting the blocks around with tendrils of wyrd. Large pieces of mortar were being lifted out of the gap, freeing those people trapped within and carrying dead or injured horses and pack mules out of the carnage.

“Direction, please,” Rowan barked when they had come to a halt at the top of the stairs that started at the bottom near the wreckage and ended at the top of the bridge, directly beside the sunken area.

A short plump man with unruly white hair came rushing over to them. He was huffing and his face was an unhealthy shade of red.

“At the moment we are lifting the stones, one by one, trying to get the people out.”

“That’s too dangerous,” Rowan said. “That rubble is stacked in there, one wrong shift and it could cause it to crumble completely.”

“We’ve gotten most of the survivors out. The other ones are just here on top.” The man pointed down and Sara saw the bloody, broken bodies of people amidst the stones. They weren’t moving. Likely he wasn’t worried about further falling stones because there wasn’t anyone left alive in that hole.

“No, there are others,” Azra said, pushing her red hair out of her eyes. “We have two friends at the very bottom of this mess that we don’t want smashed to jelly on the cobbled lanes of the bazaar.”