“Now what?” Eleanor asked. She had approached the invisible wall, and she stared at it. “They left us. The others got out, but they left us.”

  “Now we have to bring it down ourselves,” Imogen said.

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about the idea of one of the renral grabbing her and carrying her, anyway. Having been wrapped up by the renral before, and having barely survived it, she didn’t relish that prospect. It might have been better for her own sanity for the renral to have left her alone.

  But how were they going to get past the barrier?

  Power blocked them that Imogen didn’t know how to overcome. From this side of the barrier, they had failed to overwhelm it. And now she was the only Leier remaining on this side.

  What if the renral had known something?

  The thought seemed ridiculous. If the renral knew some way of overpowering the magic involved in making up the walls, it would at least explain why they had taken the Leier to the other side of the wall.

  Imogen began to focus on the foundational sacred pattern.

  On the other side of the wall, the Leier mimicked her. She could feel Tree Stands in the Forest and the way that they were holding it.

  An idea came to her.

  She started to send her roots outward, her branches angling toward that invisible barrier, and began to push against it. From the other side of the wall, the Leier were doing the same thing. They worked from one side to the next, trying to bridge it.

  Imogen might be more powerful than the others—if only more experienced—but having more of them on the other side gave them an advantage. Leverage. As she pushed, that barrier began to press inward.

  It didn’t flex the same way as it had before.

  The others must have felt it as well, as they continued to push. Jorend stood in the center of them, leading. He really had grown far more skilled. His technique was becoming increasingly fluid, much more like what Imogen used. It wasn’t a surprise. He had been a master swordsman even before she had arrived, with a number of notches on his blade. They had probably been somewhat unearned, but he still had those notches, which suggested a level of competence that others did not have.

  Magical branches began to push, roots forming Tree Stands in the Forest, and gradually the barrier started to buckle. It seemed to Imogen that they all recognized that at the same time. They pushed even harder, with renewed vigor.

  The wall crinkled, and it shattered.

  When it fell, it did so with a gust of wind that kicked up the remaining dust, swirling it in the air. Imogen had to bring her sleeve up to cover her mouth, not wanting to breathe in the powdered remains of the strange grassy creatures. The wind swirled out to the east before dissipating altogether.

  Imogen stepped toward the other Leier, letting out a relieved sigh.

  They were not gone. More than that, they had survived something she had believed would be the end of her and her people. But now what?

  All of this was supposedly so that she could help protect her people, so that she could bring them back to the homeland, but increasingly, Imogen was starting to question whether such a thing was even going to be possible. With everything that they had dealt with, and all the magic that was coming at them, would there be a time when she wouldn’t be able to do this any longer? Would they come upon a threat that might be more than what they could withstand?

  She tried not to think in that direction, but this was a Porapeth they were dealing with, along with the sorcerer she had trained. This was more power than any of them had been trained to face. They had to find a way. Imogen would have to train them.

  Jorend watched her, concern brimming in his eyes.

  “We should camp and take time to recover,” Imogen said, looking over at him.

  Jorend glanced at the sky before turning his attention back to her. “Are you sure that it’s safe?”

  “There is a copse not too far from here, and we should be able to use that for a measure of protection. Besides, I think everybody needs some rest.”

  Jorend nodded before moving off to give orders.

  Imogen stood off to the side, staring off into the distance. There were other clouds of smoke near them, but they were farther away than they had been before. She could still feel the trailing energy of the other wall, the other barrier, but now they knew how to destroy it. They could camp here. But once they had, what would they do next?

  Where would they go next?

  Someone—likely Abigail—had funneled them here. Now they had to decide their own path. Would it be theirs, or would it be another path chosen for them?

  Chapter Eleven

  TRAINING HAD BEEN GOING WELL. That was about the only positive thing that Imogen could say. Her Leier had been progressing, many of them now knowing more of the sacred patterns than she had even thought possible to teach as quickly as she had. All of them had mastered an element of Tree Stands in the Forest. They were not as potent as Imogen, but at this point, Imogen had started to question whether that even mattered. It wasn’t a matter of potency so much as it was a matter of having the ability to simply hold a Tree if the situation demanded it.

  It was protection.

  But it was more than just protection. The Tree was the basis of all the other sacred patterns. Imogen understood that now, having gained an understanding of the sacred patterns in a way that she never had when she had been at the sacred temple, and she recognized that once you mastered holding on to the Tree, transitioning to another of the sacred patterns was easier. It was no different from learning defense and offense with various traditional patterns. There were some sacred patterns that were far better suited to protection, and some that were far better for attacking. Learning that difference, and learning which complemented which, had been something that Imogen had continued to struggle with, but she wasn’t struggling alone.

  “It feels like we are moving so slowly,” Jorend said, striding up to her. “And I can’t help but wonder when they might attack us again.”

  It was midday. The sun was up, but it was filtered through hazy clouds, which made it difficult to track its position. The only thing Imogen had a true sense of was light and dark.

  “We’ve found some evidence of them,” Imogen said.

  Jorend nodded, and he patted a pouch that he carried. They had found a dozen more creatures. Not all were angry and violent like the rock creature that they had encountered not that long ago. Some of them actually seemed almost docile. And that wasn’t all the strangeness about the creatures they had encountered. There were some that had the strange jewelry, an enchantment that Imogen suspected was designed to connect them to Abigail and her magic, but there were others that did not. It was almost as if those that carried the enchantments were leading the others.

  “Why do you think she would do that?” Jorend asked.

  “This is one of the Porapeth. I don’t know that we can ever understand.”

  “Has he told you anything?”

  Imogen flicked her gaze over at him. She shook her head. “I try to meditate. Try to see if Benji is going to offer me anything, but he has remained silent.”

  “It’s unfortunate that he can’t be clearer with us.”

  What did it matter that she had grown increasingly frustrated with Benji’s absence? What did it matter that he had given her a gift, but it was a gift that she didn’t know how to use well enough to make a difference in anything that they had to do? What did it matter that she was frustrated with him for what he had done—and that he had chosen to use her?

  Imogen didn’t have that kind of knowledge, and she wasn’t even sure that she would want it.

  “All we can do is keep focusing on what he shows us,” she said. “And we can stay ready. I want you to keep working with the others. I don’t know how much time we have before we have to face anything like that again, but I fear that it’s going to require the Leier—and the Koral—in a way that we have not anticipated.”

  “We’ve been working. All of us have.”

  And by “all,” she knew what he meant—even the Koral had been working. Over time, more of the Koral had come to these training sessions.

  “You don’t think that we should?” Eleanor asked.

  Imogen glanced over to see the shaman coming up, clutching her dirty blue dress to keep it from fluttering in the wind. She shifted a satchel draped over her shoulder, and she flashed a look at Jorend before turning her attention to Imogen.

  “The First has never said that we were permitted.”

  Imogen shook her head. “I wouldn’t say that. You’re allowed to learn, the same as others. If you can gain anything from it, it will help us all.”

  And she meant it. She could easily imagine one of the sacred sword masters growing irritated with her for her willingness to teach those who weren’t of the Leier, but it wasn’t so much that she taught the Koral how to use a blade. She taught them how to flow with the sacred patterns. It was no different from how Benji had taught her to use the sacred patterns even though Imogen was not Porapeth.

  “Of course,” Jorend said, glancing over at Imogen, a hint of a smile curling his lips. “I meant no disrespect.”

  Eleanor planted her hands on her hips, and she glowered at him for a moment before her face softened. “I suppose you didn’t. You have not. It’s just…” She looked off into the distance. Imogen followed the direction of her gaze. “This was once part of our lands,” Eleanor said. “Much of this was.”

  Imogen frowned. “We’ve been going through Koral homeland?”

  “Oh, this hasn’t been Koral homeland for a long time,” Eleanor said. “And it’s taken me a while to realize where we are traveling to. At first it was subtle things that suggested it, but the farther that we’ve gone, the clearer it has become that the Leier homeland is where we’re going. I wondered if you knew.”

  Imogen shook her head. “No.”

  “I thought not. I had hoped that perhaps you might guide us to find more of our people.”

  Imogen looked along the caravan. They were several hundred in total, but not nearly as many as they had been at one point. The branox attack, followed by the renral, and the stress of the journey had diminished their numbers. Not only Leier but Koral. “I’m sorry.”

  “There are some who want to head out across these lands,” she said. “Some who feel like this is a sign. That we’ve come through here, that we’ve reached lands we are familiar with, and that we should take this opportunity to return to our people.”

  “I wouldn’t stop you. None of the others would, either.”

  “But then there are others who have encouraged patience. The First has not led us astray so far, and many of us don’t think that you will.”

  “I don’t know what we might find,” Imogen said.

  “None of us do,” Eleanor said. “The journey has been difficult. Once the mountain collapsed,” she said, and she turned, looking back in the direction that they had been coming from, almost as if she thought that she might see the remains of the collapsed mountain, “we knew that it would be difficult for us to return home. Those of us who understand the geography recognize that it might be impossible, short of going through your lands.”

  Imogen nodded. “I don’t know the geography as well as some, but I fear you are right. It’s why we’ve been heading this way.”

  Truthfully, it wasn’t just that which pushed them in this direction. Partly it was the fact that there was no other direction for them to take. They had this way to go, and no other.

  “I know that, as do the others. It’s just that most of us have started to wonder if we will ever see those we knew before again.”

  Imogen looked over at Jorend. He’d been quiet. What had he been thinking?

  What had the others been thinking?

  She hadn’t learned. She hadn’t pushed, though, knowing that it wouldn’t make much of a difference. Her people had come with her because they trusted her, and because they believed that Imogen knew enough to offer measures of protection, but there was the possibility that they wouldn’t ever be able to get back to the Leier homeland. And that, more than anything else, bothered Imogen in ways that she couldn’t quite place.

  “I’ve been trying to find guidance,” she said, not looking up.

  Eleanor started to laugh. “Praying to your Porapeth again?”

  “I think ‘praying’ is a little bit strong,” Imogen said. “But searching for understanding.”

  “Are you—”

  A trembling cut her off.

  Imogen spun toward the source of the trembling. It came from the mountains nearest them.

  She glanced over at Jorend. “Come,” she said.

  Imogen unsheathed her blade, and she darted forward, flowing on Petals on the Wind. In these foothills they were passing, it was the sacred pattern that made the most sense for what she might need to do and what she might encounter, though it was also a sacred pattern that had limitations to it. Imogen was all too aware of those. It had been useful to her when she had been attempting to stay in the air, but it might limit her when she was trying to flow across the ground. She shifted, borrowing a little bit from Stream through the Mountains, and reached a rocky section of the foothills. Jorend was right behind her, along with three of the Leier and, unsurprisingly, Eleanor and another shaman.

  Imogen looked up.

  “Another of the rock creatures, isn’t it?” Jorend asked.

  “It sounds like that.”

  “Is it trying to attack?”

  Imogen frowned. She listened to the trembling of the stone. It was a strange rumbling, and it sounded a bit like a rockslide, though she saw no evidence of one.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s almost like there is something here, but I can’t make any sense of it.” She looked over, then turned her attention to the mountain in front of her. “We should move carefully.”

  Imogen started picking her way up the rock and hadn’t moved very far when she saw the first split boulder.

  It was closer than she would have expected. She turned, looking back at the slowly moving line of people behind her, and wondered how one of these creatures would have been able to get so close without anyone noticing. They blended into the rock, she knew, which would have made it easier for one to slip in unnoticed, but why here, and why now?

  Had they gotten closer to something Abigail wanted them to avoid?

  Or had Abigail simply found another of the creatures to corrupt and send at them?

  This didn’t make complete sense to Imogen, though. If Abigail were simply gathering creatures to attack them, there would have been other opportunities. There had certainly been other creatures, though they hadn’t attacked in the way that the last rock creature had. And having no sign of that, Imogen wasn’t exactly sure what this might be.

  Abigail was a Porapeth, but that didn’t mean Abigail was the only threat. Lilah, as her sorcerer apprentice, would have the kind of magic that could be used against them, only she had not used it. It had just been the creatures.

  “Something isn’t sitting right,” Imogen muttered.

  “It’s this place,” Jorend said. “I think the people are feeling it as well. There is something uncertain and unsettled here.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “This place has bothered us. All of us. The creatures keep migrating. We don’t know why, and we don’t know what that means.”

  Migrating.

  That was as good a way of putting it as any other, only migrating where?

  Another trembling rumbled, and Imogen looked up. She caught sight of one of the stone creatures perched on a boulder several hundred feet from her. She saw no sign of metal around it. The creature looked down toward them before bounding off and racing out of the mountains, and then away, over the plains.

  “That’s odd,” Eleanor muttered. “We’ve never seen anything like that in our lands before, but now it’s heading there? It’s like it is—”

  “Running from a storm,” Imogen said.

  Another rumble came.

  This one was deep, and it was followed by the echoing sound of three more, as if thunder rolled all around them, and then stone began to pour down the slope, first in small rocks, then larger boulders, which forced Imogen to immediately draw upon Tree Stands in the Forest, sealing the others in with her.

  She wasn’t alone in her sacred pattern, as Jorend held on to it, and even Eleanor did something, though Imogen wasn’t exactly sure what it was. Then the rocks passed, and the trembling faded. When it did, Imogen saw that there had to have been a half dozen of those rock creatures, which now streaked across the plains. An entire pack of them.

  And they were racing from the mountains.

  Racing from the storm.

  But what was that storm?

  Imogen feared that they needed to learn quickly. Otherwise, her people—the Leier and the Koral—would not have an opportunity to run like these creatures did.

  Chapter Twelve

  THE MEDITATION HELPED her connect to some deeper part of herself. As Imogen stayed locked in that pose, her mind drifting, she didn’t find the answers she searched for. No distant star twinkling to tell her that Benji was there, and no cry in the back of her mind, a voice that called out to her. Nothing that suggested to her that he was even there, trying to reach her.

  There was an emptiness. And that emptiness bothered Imogen more than anything else. She had this power, this magic building within her, but she still had no idea how to use it. It was why she had started to focus on her meditation. It was part of the reason that she had wanted to camp rather than keep moving. She needed to sit, to focus, to try to find a way to frame her mind and find that focus.

  What she wouldn’t give to have her friends around her once again.

  They would have been useful against this kind of power. Gaspar might struggle, though he had faced powerful sorcerers and had come through it without any difficulty. Gavin, a man known as the Chain Breaker, had El’aras magic, which made him powerful in a different way. Any of the enchanters that they had worked with might also be beneficial now, especially to create different protections that they could use to defend themselves against sorcery and these creatures.

 

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