he hadn’t felt time tugging at him as it had in those frigid chambers. He wasn’t certain why. Except that the energy here felt… dry, used up, and old. The stone within the mountains to the north had been vital, thick with a visceral sense of blood.
They’d headed toward the Source at first light, Colin pointing out the direction of the Haessari’s city. They’d kept as many of the intact buildings between them and the cliff faces where the Haessari lived as possible, even though they hadn’t encountered any of the Snake People in the city at all.
As soon as they descended from the strange ridge of stone debris, the nature of the destruction changed. The buildings they’d passed through before had collapsed, ceilings and walls buckling inward as time clawed and ate its way through the structures.
Not so here, Colin thought as Siobhaen dusted herself off and joined him and Eraeth at the edge of the inner city.
“It’s as if all of the stone here simply… fractured,” Eraeth said, waving a hand toward the debris field that spread out before them. “As if it splintered and the pieces were thrown aside.”
Siobhaen knelt and picked up a shard of rock at her feet. She hissed as she touched an edge, blood welling against her fingertip. “It’s sharp as a blade.”
“The entire central city is fractured,” Colin said, motioning toward the stumps of the towers. “Unlike the outer city, the towers were sheared off, their tops blown off by some central source.”
“The Well?”
Colin shook his head. “I don’t know. Perhaps. Whatever it was, it destroyed the city completely. And the Source appears to be at the center of the destruction.”
Neither Alvritshai said anything, both scanning the distance with shaded eyes. Then Eraeth strode forward, down the debris-covered street that appeared to head toward the confluence of the two rivers and the tallest of the truncated towers.
A moment later, Colin and Siobhaen followed.
They wound through the streets, the construction of the buildings changing as they passed from section to section. A dark red stone was used in one area, replaced in another by basalt, then a dirty white with flecks of quartz that glinted in the sunlight. Even shattered, they could discern different styles. In one district, the sandstone had been carved into blocks, in another, mudbricks. As they neared the dry riverbed, the buildings appeared to have been formed from living rock itself, sculpted like clay, what remained smooth and seamless.
They reached the riverbank, rock walls hemming the ancient water in and thick stone supports for docks and bridges jutting up from the cracked and brittle riverbed beneath. Eraeth pointed to where one of the bridges remained mostly intact and they skirted the dry river’s edge to reach it.
“We’ll be exposed,” Siobhaen said as they stared across its length. Portions of it had been sliced away in the fracturing of the inner city, chunks of thick stone lying in the riverbed below, but a path still existed all the way across to the city. The width of the bridge was immense, at least eight wagon-lengths from side to side.
Eraeth shrugged. “As exposed as we’d be crawling across the bottom of the river below. I don’t see any way to approach that isn’t exposed.”
Siobhaen frowned. “We haven’t even looked-”
“We have no choice,” Colin interrupted. “We need to cross. It may as well be here. I’ll go first, in case the bridge isn’t stable.” He knew he’d survive the fall; the Alvritshai wouldn’t.
But the stone of the bridge held.
On the far side, they slid from the end of the bridge into what Colin guessed had once been parks, the open areas littered with the bases of statues and what might have been standing pools of water or fountains. Everything was dry, and nothing grew in the patches of dirt and sand. They passed beneath massive arches, into the shade of the towers, taller than even Colin had imagined. Awe claimed him as they walked through the curved and winding streets, staring up. The towers must have stood higher than those at Terra’nor, higher than even the Alvritshai ruins in the northern wastelands. He approached the base of one, brushed his hand along the strangely textured surface, frowning until he recognized the patterns. It appeared to be petrified bark, and as he stepped back and stared up the length of the building, picking out the gaping shadows of windows along its side, he realized that the entire building was shaped like the bole of a tree.
Turning, he scanned the nearest buildings, Eraeth and Siobhaen standing to one side, confused.
“The buildings weren’t built,” Colin said abruptly. “They were grown.”
When the two Alvritshai’s frowns deepened, he motioned toward the building behind him, then the others. “Look at it! This one is like the trunk of a tree, the wood solidified into stone now. And that one there is made of thousands and thousands of vines, entwined to form walls, ceilings, windows, and doors. Even the balconies are formed from leaves.”
“And that one is like a stalk of grass,” Siobhaen murmured.
All three of them spun, searching the towers with new eyes, but eventually Colin felt the pull of the Source again, now so close he could feel the tug of its current drawing him closer and closer to its center. Not strong enough yet that he couldn’t resist it, but insistent. A sense of urgency pulled at him as well, and he wondered how the dwarren fared with the Wraith army in the west, how the Seasonal Trees fared against the onslaught of the Wraiths and the Source. He tried to shrug the concerns aside, as he’d done since they’d reached the Confluence and he’d found that the Trees were under attack, but he couldn’t. He suddenly wished he had a way to communicate with the dwarren and the humans in the southern Provinces, even with the Alvritshai and Aeren. But he couldn’t. He was isolated, alone, and he had no way of knowing whether the Trees had already fallen or there was still hope.
In the end it didn’t matter.
He turned from his scrutiny of the towers and focused on a break in their soaringing heights. He could feel the emptiness that lay there, an emptiness that was slowly being filled.
He needed to stop it, at whatever cost.
Shrugging the awe of the city to one side, he descended the wide circular steps that led to the entrance of the tower and headed toward that emptiness, toward the pull of the Source, letting it draw him to its center. Behind, he sensed Eraeth and Siobhaen following. They drew their cattans, the bows gifted them by the forest slung across their backs. Colin gripped his staff tighter, but he saw nothing moving, nothing waiting in the gaping windows above or the mouths of the doors below.
They reached the center of the towers and halted. They stood on the lip of an oval depression, the ground sunken, wide stairs leading down to a low, roofless building of the same shape. The inside of the building was swallowed in darkness and the slanted shadows of the towers. Its white stone sides were cracked like an egg. Chunks of shattered crystal lay across the entire depression. A faint bluish glow emanated from the top.
“The Source is inside,” Colin murmured.
“How do you know?”
“Because I can feel it.” He could hear it in the edge of his voice as well. It sounded heavier, huskier, the pull of the Lifeblood strong. He hadn’t felt so close to losing control since he’d first left the Well nearly two hundred years before. Like then, his body trembled-with power, with urgency, with need. He could taste the Source, the mixture of loam and snow thick on his tongue. His hand tightened and flexed against the wood of his staff and he tried not to shudder.
Beside him, Siobhaen said, “It’s strong. Even I can feel it. I sensed the Well in the northern wastes. But this… this I can
Eraeth frowned.
Below, Colin thought he caught a flicker of movement in one of the shadows. He stepped forward, taking the first step down toward one of the entrances, but Eraeth’s hand on his shoulder halted him.
The Protector shook his head. “I’ll go first, Siobhaen behind, you in the middle. We don’t know what we’ll find down there.”
Colin shot a glance toward Siobhaen, her expression hard and unforgiving, angry that Eraeth had taken the lead, but in total agreement. Both of them had set aside the awe and immensity of the city as he had earlier. They were House Phalanx members now, guarding their lord.
Colin nodded grudgingly. “Very well.”
They moved swiftly down the stairs, noted other entrances at regular intervals around the building as they did so. Eraeth kept ten paces ahead of Colin, motioning him back if he came too close. Within moments they were
