The storm broke over the mountain just before dawn. All night the clouds had circled like a wall. Now the wall thinned and opened in one straight rip that ran from horizon to horizon. The air changed. Every stone in the valley seemed to wake at once. Frost hissed off pine needles as if the trees had taken a breath and decided not to hold it anymore.
Mira pushed herself upright on the altar slab. The stone was warm under her skin. Light spilled from the old veins in the cave and gathered around her ribs. She felt it rise and fall with her chest like a steady bellows. Her hair hung straight to her lower back, white as new limewash. Her lashes were the same white. Her eyes held a low silver glow that did not fade when she blinked.
"Slow," Selina said, one hand on Mira's shoulder. "Not too fast."
"I am steady," Mira said. Her voice sounded like her and not like her, as if something inside had been sanded smooth. "How long was I down?"
"Four hours," Kael said. He stood three paces away, palm against the rock wall at the narrowest point of the chamber, listening to the stone. "The seal opened more. Not the deep one. The warding over the city gate. We will not be the only ones who felt it."
"Listen," Selina said.
A deep vibration ran through the mountain and out across the land. It was not thunder. It was a pressure change. Water in cracks moved. Snow on high ledges sifted down in thin, steady lines. The echo took long seconds to die.
"What is that?" Mira asked.
"The rift," Kael said. "It split the sky over the sea. The pressure wave hit the coast and came inland. The valley is resonating."
Mira let the sound pass through her. The silver in her eyes sharpened for a moment and then eased. She could hear things she never heard before. The scrape of a beetle under bark. The slow drag of a cloud's shadow along the snow line. Farther out—too far for a human ear—the rhythm of feet on rock in uneven groups, the hiss of rope through a metal ring, the clatter of armor against stone. She heard voices in the firs on the far slope, three hundred steps down. Men argued quietly. Someone swore. Someone asked if the map was wrong.
"They are here," she said.
"They have been here since midnight," Selina said. "Scouts. Runners. The first circle of the Red Veil is wider than it looks. They say they are searching for storm victims. They have dogs and a story for any camera. They are not here to help anyone."
"We cannot fight all of them if they climb at once," Kael said.
"We do not have to fight all of them," Selina said. She looked at Mira. "You only have to hold yourself."
"I will try," Mira said. She swung her legs over the side of the slab and stood. The chamber trembled. Fine dust sifted down. A crack ran a finger's length along one flagstone and stopped.
"Breathe out," Selina said.
Mira let the air go slow. The tremor eased. She looked at her hands. The skin was white and almost clear. Pale lines ran under the surface like threads. If she held her breath, faint light collected at the center of each palm. When she exhaled, it dispersed.
"Outside," Kael said. "We need to see the sky."
They took the narrow stair up and out through the cut in the rock face. Cold air hit at once. The wind was from the east. It carried salt. Clouds dragged low over the ridge to the west, but the east was clear. Over the far sea a tear hung like a seam lit from within. It arched across half the visible world. The color was hard to name. Not blue. Not white. A kind of pale that made the air feel thin. Threads of light twisted out of the seam and fell in slow spirals toward the water. Every time one touched the surface, the sea bulged and flattened, and a ring of mist ran outward in a wide circle.
"Report lines will fill in an hour," Selina said. "City feeds. Military bands. Amateur streams. They will call it aurora. They will call it a polar arc. They will say it is harmless. Then the second wave will hit, and they will change their minds."
"The second wave?" Mira asked.
"The beasts," Kael said. "And things that were not beasts before."
Mira's skin tightened. She had no memory for why she knew the truth of those words, but she did. The first small sound came at once from above and behind. Not an eagle. Not any bird she knew. The pitch was lower. The rhythm had no hurry in it. A shape crossed the face of the rift. For a second it broke the light and showed a dark edge like a fin. Then it was gone.
"Back inside," Selina said. "We keep the mouth of the cave closed until we have eyes on all sides."
They returned to the main chamber. The old city below the mountain sent a cool draft up through the cracks in the floor. The scent carried out of the ancient vaults was clean and old—iron, stone, dried herbs. The clan had worked through the night. Tunnels that had been blind were open. Dust lay on the railings of an inner bridge where none had been an hour earlier. A bell sounded once and quieted.
A runner met them at the bend of the passage. He wore dark cloth and a leather harness for his knives. He bowed to Mira without thinking and seemed to start when he realized he had done it.
"Report," Selina said.
"Two groups on the north slope," he said. "Ten and eight. Red Veil. One drone high. We have it on a line. No signal out. The lower trail has three watchers in plain clothes. They have police radios, not police. The west approach is clear. The eastern scree has motion under the rocks. Not human."
"How far?" Kael asked.
"Two hundred steps from the old water marks," the runner said. "They do not climb yet. They are listening."
"Thank you," Selina said. "Take your place on the upper shelf. We will send word if the line moves."
He went. Kael watched him go and then looked at Mira.
"You can hear them," he said, "but do not chase the sounds. Let them be markers. Use the nearest only."
Mira nodded. She closed her eyes and set a careful boundary in her mind without language. Near sounds only. The crackle of the torch. The breath of the two people beside her. The nearest drip of water. The nearest scrape on stone. The rest went into a second circle. The second circle was there, but she did not touch it.
Her body settled. The white in her skin lost its glare and looked more like living flesh. The silver in her eyes dimmed. She looked like a person and not like a lantern.
"Better," Selina said.
"What is the plan?" Mira asked.
"We hold the mountain," Selina said. "We do not let them take the door. If they take the door, they take the gate below the door. If they take the gate, they enter the city. If they enter the city, we lose our shield. If we lose our shield, we cannot keep you safe."
"What can I do?" Mira asked.
"You can stand," Kael said. "You can breathe without cracking the stone. You can speak if you need to stop. That is enough."
"Understood," Mira said, though it felt like nothing. Something inside her wanted to run out into the light and burn the whole slope down. The urge made no sense. The urge felt older than her.
A second runner came at speed, boots quiet on the rock.
"South ridge," he said. "Lights on the service road. Six vehicles. Heavy. One with a boom. They carry a long case. More on foot behind them. I counted thirty before I had to move. The guard at the lower bridge waved them through."
Kael's jaw tightened. "Arthur's men."
Mira felt the name go through her like a chill. She could not see Arthur's face in detail, but she knew the shape of his mouth when he was annoyed and tried to look calm. She knew the exact angle at which he held his head when he wanted a room to believe he had not been surprised. She felt the old hollow in her chest where approval should have lived and did not.
"Let them come," Selina said. "They will climb too fast. They will tire. They will slip. We will not."
"What about Nora?" Mira asked. "Is she with them?"
"No," Selina said. "She is not with them."
"Do we know where she is?" Mira asked.
"We know she is alive," Selina said. "That is all today."
Mira swallowed. She did not ask more. The air shifted again, and a faint hum came from the corner where the monitor they had carried up from the house sat on a shelf with a battery line on it. The green light on its face blinked twice and then went steady.
"It wants to talk," Kael said.
"Turn it off," Selina said.
Kael pulled the battery line. The green light died.
"It is not safe to carry that out anymore," Selina said to Mira. "We keep the old paper ways in here."
"Good," Mira said. She did not want the little green light watching her do anything.
Outside, the rift brightened. The threads of light fell in thicker cords. Something in the sea made a noise large enough to reach the mountain. It was not a crash. It was a low, long sound like a wall shifting. The wind pulled hard once, then went soft, as if the whole sky had breathed in and held it.
A horn sounded down in the forest. A human horn. Two notes. Then three. A call and an answer. The echoes made it hard to tell where they came from.
"Positions," Selina said. "We move."
They took the narrow path along the inner wall and came out on the east shelf open to the valley. The shelf ran along the slope at a height of fifty paces above the treeline. A low wall ran along the outer edge. Old carvings lined the inner rock face—lines of script, simple stone images of hands and tools and flowers. Rows of clan fighters were already in place, kneeling or standing with bows, spears, and short blades. No one spoke. No one looked at Mira as if she were a spectacle. They looked in short glances to see where she stood and then looked out to the slope again. That was all.
Kael went to the front and lifted one hand. The first row notched arrows but did not raise them. The second row moved half a step left or right to close the gaps. The third row turned slightly to cover the angle of the lower trail. The line looked loose and became tight in two heartbeats.
On the slope below, figures moved in and out among the firs and rocks. Some wore gray. Some wore black. A few wore coats that would look like hikers to any camera. The dogs were lean and quiet. They wore light muzzles and low vests.
Mira could see farther than she should. She kept her eyes on the nearest group. It helped. The men in front moved up to the first line of exposed stone and took cover behind it. One raised a hand. The group behind him spread out in a straight line that did not look like a random climb. They were trained. They had practiced on a hill that was not this hill, but it was close enough.
A voice rose from below through a loudhailer.
"Mountain rescue," the voice said, calm and clear. "We are here to assist. Please do not be alarmed. Please put down any weapons. We have supplies and medical staff."
Selina leaned on the wall and called back without a device. Her voice carried the same calm.
"We need no rescue," she said. "Turn back."
"Please do not be afraid," the voice said. "We have a doctor on the team."
"We have our own," Selina said. "Turn back."
A pause. The same voice, now a touch firmer.
"Do you have a patient named Mira Halden?" it asked. "Her father is here. He wants to see her."
Mira's hands went cold. She looked at Selina.
"Do not answer," Selina said.
Another voice came up from lower down, smaller, the shape of the words strained as if the person did not like speaking into the device.
"Mira," the voice said. "It is Arthur. We need to talk. It is not safe for you there. Come down. We will make a plan. I will take you somewhere quiet. You know I always keep my word."
A thin sound left Mira's throat and died.
"Do not answer," Selina said again. She put her hand over Mira's fingers on the stone and pressed once. "Look at me."
Mira looked at her.
"You are safe here," Selina said. "He cannot reach you while you stand. You do not need to speak to him. If you want to speak later, you can choose it then. Not now."
"Understood," Mira said.
Kael lifted his hand. No one on the shelf moved. No one fired. The dogs below raised their heads and pulled on their leads. The handlers held them tight.
The loudhailer voice came again.
"We are going to approach," it said. "We will come unarmed."
They did not. Two men put long cases down and opened them. Metal caught light inside. The men took out heavy devices with stubby barrels and folding stocks. They looked like tools and not like rifles, but the way the men handled them said they were not new to them.
"Net launchers," Kael said. "Weights on the edges. They try to pin and pull."
"What do we do?" Mira asked.
"We show that it will not work," Kael said.
He lifted his hand and dropped it. The first row stood into view. Six arrows went out. They were not meant to kill. They hit the netters' stocks and hands and arms. The shots went wide. Nets folded and dropped on the rocks. The dogs barked. One handler fell. Two more men raised rifles and fired in short, tight bursts. The shots smashed on the rock face and sparked off the wall. Thin metal discs bit into the stone and stuck. Mira smelled something sharp.
"Shock rounds," Kael said. "Do not touch the discs."
Mira's skin picked up a low charge at once. The tiny hairs on her arms lifted. Her breath caught. The silver in her eyes brightened on its own. She did not want it to, but it did. The closest disc glowed. The glow around her palms gathered and then reached for it without her telling it to move. The two lights met in the air and made a small, violent crack. The disc went black and dropped.
Kael looked at her once.
"Hold," he said. "Do not throw."
"I did not throw," Mira said. "It moved to me."
"Then let it move only this far," he said, and he held his hand six inches from the wall.
"Understood," Mira said. She curled her fingers in slowly until the light in her hands drew back and stayed.
The men below shifted. They did not shoot again at once. One spoke into a radio. Another turned to look down the slope for orders.
A bright flare lifted above the trees on the far side of the valley and hung in the air. It was not one of theirs. The flare was red. It burned steady.
"Signal to advance," Selina said. "From the other side."
On the road below, engines rose. The six vehicles from the lower bridge moved at once. They were not fast. They were heavy. Men got out on the second switchback and started up through the brush on foot. They wore armor plates under dark jackets. The men on the first line waited for them.
"Second row," Kael said. "Ready."
The second row stood and raised hands. They did not hold bows. They held narrow rods. Each rod had three thin rings along its length. At Kael's signal, the row brought the rods level and turned them a hair in unison. The rings clicked. The air jumped. The shock discs on the rock walls sparked once and then went dead. The men below looked at each other, confused.
"We took their charge," Selina said under her breath. "Hold."
The first of Arthur's men reached the rock. He looked up, saw the white-haired figure two heights above, and raised his hand to point her out. A man behind him grabbed his arm and pulled it down hard. The second man spoke fast into the other's ear. Mira could not hear the words, but she read the mouth. Do not point at her. Do not look at her. Keep your eyes down.
"Who told them that?" she asked.
"The Red Veil," Selina said. "They know where not to look."
A new sound came from the direction of the sea. Not the low wall-shift. A high, thin keening. It was distant. It was also loud. The hair on Mira's arms prickled again. Birds rose from the woods along the river in a thin line and did not settle.
"The first beasts," Kael said. "We have an hour before they reach this valley. Maybe less. They will hit the coast towns first, then the inland roads. If the Red Veil does not turn to face them, they will bring the beasts with them. Either way, we will see them before the sun is high."
"Can we hold against both?" Mira asked.
"We do not hold against both," Kael said. "We make the Red Veil turn. We give them a new problem."
"How?" Mira asked.
"By lighting the truth where they cannot ignore it," Selina said. She looked at Mira. "You can do more than stop their tools. You can clean the air around the rift glare. The corruption in it will make the beasts mad. If you clean it, they will see a clear path elsewhere. The Red Veil will want that path too. They will move to chase the beasts when they realize they cannot catch you before the beasts arrive. They will come back later with more numbers. But not today."
Mira's mouth went dry. "I do not know if I can reach that far."
"You do not need to reach the rift," Selina said. "Only the air over this valley. We draw a belt around the mountain. We keep our air clear. The edge of the belt will show like a line to anything that can smell what the rift is leaking. The beasts will follow the heavy stream around it. The cult will follow the beasts. It is the only way to reach the cities fast. They will claim they are going to save people. They will go to harvest."
Mira nodded. "Tell me what to do."
"Stand," Selina said. "Breathe. Do not aim. Let your body place the edge. It will know where the old ward runs. Hold the line there and nowhere else. If it tries to widen, stop it. If it tries to rise too fast, say stop out loud and sit down. Kael will hold you."
"I will hold you," Kael said.
Mira moved to the center of the shelf. The old carvings in the wall behind her were level with her shoulder. She set her palms out, waist high, fingers easy. She looked at the valley in a soft way and tried not to think about edges and belts and lines.
The first breath came easy. The second was harder. Her sternum pulled tight as if a strap had been cinched one notch too far. She kept the breath small and regular. On the fourth breath something in the stone under her feet responded. It was the same as before. A low warm rise, like heat coming up through floorboards after someone lit a stove in the room below. It steadied her legs.
"Good," Selina said.
The light in Mira's hands grew, but it did not push out in a sheet. It stayed close and drew a thin arc in the air in front of her. The arc stretched left and right until it met the edges of the shelf, then sank until it touched the ground. The line ran outward over the slope, invisible at first, then visible as a faint difference in the clarity of the air, like heat over a road. It reached the first rise of stone, slid along it, and stopped at the notch where an old ward mark lay worn into the rock.
"There," Selina said. "Hold that."
Mira held. The urge to widen the line came at once. It felt like a tug in the muscles of her forearms and throat. She said, "Stop," out loud. The tug eased. The line steadied. The air on the near side of it smelled clean and thin. The air on the far side had a metallic edge that made her tongue feel numb. The dogs below whined and lay down without being told.
"They felt it," Kael said. "Good."
Mira counted five breaths, then ten, then fifteen. Her arms shook on the sixteenth. She bent her elbows a few inches and the light came closer and steadied. On the nineteenth she had to stop and sit. Kael was there before she finished the motion. He set his hand between her shoulder blades and held her upright without pushing.
"Again in ten counts," Selina said. "Then again. We make a full half circle. We leave the west side open for our people to move. We can close it later if we need to."
They worked in sets. Mira drew the line in small arcs. Kael kept count. Selina watched the slope and gave short corrections that were not orders. The clan shifted to cover the low spots where the line dipped. At the far edge, a new team took over and continued the line along the next shelf. The light did not look like fire. It looked like clear air. It looked like nothing until something tried to pass it.
The first thing to try was not human. Stones moved on the eastern scree where the runner had said there was motion. A long, flat shape slid out from under a slab the size of a table and lay still. It was not a snake. The head was too wide. It lifted the front third of its body and tasted the air with a thick tongue. Its skin was gray and had a dull shine. There were no eyes. A seam ran around the head where a skull should be. It opened. The inside was not red. The inside was white and hard.
"Carver," Kael said. "Not from here. Keep your feet back from the edge."
The carver flowed forward without a sound and hit the line. It stopped. It twisted and tried again. The front half of its body went flat and spread like a hand. The edge of the line hummed. The carver pulled back and went still. It put its head to the ground and slid along the line to the left. It reached a spot where Mira's hold had thinned. It pushed there and almost made it through. Mira's hands shook. Kael's grip on her back tightened.
"Close it," Selina said. "Only that spot."
Mira drew a small breath and let it out slow. The thin patch filled. The carver hissed for the first time. It turned and went the other way along the line. It found no gap. It flowed back over the rocks and into its hole and disappeared.
"Good," Selina said. "The first test."
Mira nodded. Her shirt stuck to her back with sweat. Her hair clung to her neck. She felt tired in a way that had nothing to do with sickness and everything to do with effort. It was a clean feeling. It did not scare her.
A horn sounded on the lower road. Not one of theirs. A thick, short blast. Men shouted. Engines revved. The six vehicles turned at the same time and moved down the hill. The groups on foot did not follow. They held place and watched the men retreat. In the trees below, other figures moved. Red cloth showed once and was gone.
"They are turning," Selina said. "They felt the beasts coming and they do not want to be between us and them."
"What about the men on the slope?" Mira asked.
"They will hold," Selina said. "They will keep their story. They will tell any camera that we are armed and dangerous. They will tell the town we are a threat. They will wait for the Red Veil to circle back with a proper unit."
Mira stood up again. Her legs shook. Kael did not remove his hand from her back. She did not mind that he kept it there. The line of clean air around the mountain brightened a fraction and then calmed.
Far off over the sea, the rift dipped. A thick thread of light fell straight down and hit the water close to shore. The mist ring that ran out from it reached the first long pier and soaked it as if a wave had run through the wood and not over it. Cracks opened along the pier beams. Black shapes rose in the broken foam and slid away into deeper water. The sound of the keening grew louder.
"The coast will not hold," Selina said. "They will call for help inland. The Red Veil will answer. They will take ground where the beasts will not cross. They will claim that ground is safe because of them. They will set up gates and take names and bind anyone who tries to pass. They will call it order. It will be a harvest."
"What do we do?" Mira asked.
"We hold this place," Kael said. "We keep the door. We build the wall you are building. We send out bands to bring in people who can learn to breathe this air without breaking. We teach them to stand. We do not send anyone down the mountain until the first flood passes."
"Understood," Mira said.
A runner came at speed from the west shelf and skidded to a stop.
"Two messages," he said. "First, a voice on the old line from the garden city. The leader of the lower ward woke. He says the old mandate is in force. He asks if the Lotus Flame stands. I told him yes. He wept and asked for orders."
Selina's face did not change, but her shoulders lowered a fraction.
"Send this," she said. "Tell him to hold the west gate and open the lower cellars. Tell him to put the old marks on the doors. Tell him to let anyone shelter who will not raise a hand against our people. Tell him to keep the women and old ones in the inner rooms and the men in the outer until we send more guard. Tell him the Lotus Flame stands and breathes. That is enough for today."
The runner nodded. "Second message," he said. "A woman at the base path. She is alone. She has no pack. She asks to speak only to you two. She will not give her name to anyone else."
Kael and Selina looked at each other once.
"Nora," Mira said. Her throat tightened. "It is Nora."
"It may be," Selina said. "Or it may be a name used by someone else. We will not guess. We will go."
"I am coming," Mira said.
"No," Selina said.
Mira opened her mouth to argue and closed it. She stood still, then nodded once.
"Then take this," she said, and she took the thin ribbon from her wrist and wrapped it around Selina's left hand twice and tied it. "I want to know you carry something of me if you go down there."
Selina looked at the ribbon and squeezed Mira's fingers once. "You have me without this," she said. "But I will wear it."
Kael touched Mira's shoulder. "You will stand on the middle shelf with Rian. If you sense the line slipping while we are gone, sit. Say stop. Wait for me."
"I will," Mira said.
Kael and Selina went by the inner steps. They moved fast but not loud. Two guards fell in behind them. A third went ahead.
When they were gone, Mira moved to the middle shelf as told. Rian, a woman with a calm face and a scar under one eye, stood with her.
"I will count for you," Rian said. "If I count too fast, say slow."
"Thank you," Mira said.
They worked again in sets. The line around the mountain grew steadier. The men on the slope kept their distance and watched. The dogs lay low and did not rise. The wind had a new smell in it now from the east—wet iron, cut stone, green sap.
Rian lifted her head.
"They are late," she said.
"Who?" Mira asked.
"The beasts," Rian said. "The wind slowed. They are running a ridge to the south. Someone is herding them. The sound is wrong for free movement."
"Who can herd them?" Mira asked.
"People who have done it before," Rian said. "People who came with them."
Mira's stomach turned. She reached for the line again and felt her breath shorten. She said stop and sat. Rian nodded once.
"Good," Rian said. "We hold with many, not with one."
Time stretched thin and then thicker. The light changed at the edges. At the head of the valley, thin cloud streaks ran inward toward the rift and did not break. The keening rose again and faded. Engines moved on a road far below and then stopped.
Footsteps came on the inner path. Kael and Selina returned alone. Their faces were careful. Kael had a new cut on the back of one hand. Selina's braid was damp at the ends as if she had walked through low brush.
"What happened?" Mira asked. She could not stop the question.
"We spoke to Nora," Selina said. "She is alive. She is not with the Red Veil. She does not come up. She says she cannot. She says they have her boy. The clan took him two days ago. They told her she could live if she led them to you. She led them the wrong way. She came today to warn us that the Red Veil split their force. Half went to the coast roads. Half turned for this valley with men who can walk the ward lines without feeling sick. She says you should not trust her. I told her we do not. I told her we would still bring her up later if she runs for the trees when we light the slope. She asked me to hit her once so the camera would show she tried. I refused. She hit the rock and made her face bleed and told the man on the radio she was thrown down."
Mira's hands shook. "Is she hurt?"
"She will be," Kael said. "Not by us."
"Can we get her?" Mira asked.
"Not now," Selina said. "The line would falter. We will find her later. We will mark the place."
Mira closed her eyes and set the image of the base path bright in her mind.
"What did she say about Arthur?" she asked.
"He came," Selina said. "He did not speak to her. He spoke to Dr. Harland. They argued. A Red Veil captain stood between them and smiled like a man who had sold both of them the same lie."
Mira felt her jaw go tight. "I hate him," she said, and the words felt simple and true. "I hate him for speaking like that and for acting like he is kind. I hate that I still want to look for him in a room. I hate that my body listens for his voice."
Selina's eyes softened. "Hate is an honest step between fear and choice," she said. "You can stand there as long as you need."
"I do not want to stand in hate," Mira said. "I want to stand in something else."
"You will," Selina said. "Not today. Today we stand in work."
A call came from the upper shelf. A short whistle. Then two. The pattern meant mass movement on the south slope. Kael lifted his hand and answered with three.
The air beyond the clean line grew darker. It was not night-dark. It was a stain in the light. Shapes moved in it. First small. Then larger. A deer ran out of the trees and hit the line at speed and was thrown back as if it had run into a fence. It scrambled to its feet and ran along the line until it found a low spot and leaped it. It crossed into the clean air, looked around as if it had landed in a room with no scent, and froze. Its eyes rolled white. It found a way over a log and fled up the safe side of the ridge.
Behind it came other things. Wild dogs. A boar. A long cat with a tail thick as a rope that had no business being in these mountains. The cat hit the line and went sideways with a yowl. It put out a paw and touched the clear air as if it wanted to test the shape. It pulled the paw back fast and shook it hard, offended. It went along the line and found a low point. Rian fired a short bolt into the ground there and the point rose. The cat snorted and went away.
Then the not-animals came. Four shapes in a row on long legs, bodies like the bodies of wolves with skin wrong and slick and the heads too narrow. Their mouths opened side to side, not up and down. They did not cry out. They moved in a steady rhythm like a drill. They hit the line. They hit it again. The one on the far right found a sag and began to push. Rian swore under her breath.
"Mira," Kael said. "Just there."
Mira stood and raised her hands. The light came quick and hard. Her ribs hurt. She said stop to her own body and the light held a hair off her palms instead of running out. She moved her hands a finger-width to the right. The low spot filled. The wrong wolves hissed and slashed at the air. Their teeth met nothing. They turned as one and flowed away into the stain.
"Good," Kael said. "Again when I say."
They worked like that for an hour while the first flood of things ran along the edge of the clean belt and went on into the low hills to the south and east. Faint shouts rose from the lower road where the Red Veil convoy moved to intercept. Shots rolled along the valley in quick bursts. Smoke climbed from the trees along the cut near the old quarry. Helicopters thudded far off and hung, then moved. The rift over the sea pulsed a little slower.
At last the pressure changed again. The air felt less tight. The stain thinned. Birds landed two at a time in the tops of the firs and shook themselves and were quiet. The dogs below stood and looked around like they had forgotten why they were lying down. The men on the slope called to each other and shifted their lines and did not push forward. They waited. They had orders to wait.
Selina touched Mira's elbow.
"Sit," she said. "That is enough for this hour."
Mira sat. Her hands shook hard now. Sweat ran down her sides. Her hair clung to her neck. Her mouth was dry. Selina held a cup to her lips. The water tasted like rock and movement.
"Good," Selina said. "You did it."
"It is not finished," Mira said.
"It is never finished," Selina said. "That is why we train."
Kael crouched beside them and unwrapped a narrow strip of cloth from his cut hand. The cut had stopped bleeding. The skin was red around it.
"How did you get that?" Mira asked.
"Brushed a shard when I set a wedge in the lower path," he said. "It is nothing."
"Let me see," Mira said.
He held out his hand. She took it. The skin of his palm was warm. The cut was shallow. She did not think. She raised her left hand and let a small thread of the light run out. It hit the red skin and did not flare. It soaked in and cooled. The red faded. The cut closed. Kael blinked once and then held still.
"Better," she said, and felt a small, bright satisfaction.
"Do not use that for anyone else today," Selina said. "Only for us. Only small wounds. It will pull on you."
"I know," Mira said. She did not know, but she believed Selina and that worked as well as knowing for now.
A messenger came up from the lower tunnels. He was young and had a tear on his sleeve. He skidded to a stop when he saw Mira and did a clumsy half-bow that made his hair fall in his eyes.
"Forgive me," he said. "The old council hall woke. The silver screens came on. They show the coast. They show other places. People are fighting in the streets in the cities. The news says it is a global event. The anchor says it is a meteor storm. Then the screen changed. A live feed showed a bridge near the sea. The Red Veil stood on it with shields. They let people through on one side and told them to kneel and put down their bags. The people did. A woman tried to stand up and carry a baby. A man hit her with a baton. The camera cut away. The anchor said the feed had technical issues. Then the screen went black."
Selina's jaw tightened. "We knew this," she said. "Now the world knows it."
"What do we do?" the messenger asked. His voice shook. He was trying not to make it shake.
"Tell the hall to keep the screens on," Selina said. "Tell them to watch. Tell them to look for our marks in any feed and write down the streets where they see them. We will need a map by sundown. Tell them to send food to the third level and water to the first. Tell them to break the crates of blankets for the west gate and put them two to a person to start. Go."
He went, fast and relieved to have clear work.
Mira leaned her head against the rock behind her and looked up. Faint light ran along the edges of the old carvings in the wall. She reached out one hand and traced a line above the stone with her finger without touching. The line flared and then settled. She did not know the script, but her body knew the order of it. She felt the shape of the characters in her wrist and elbow as if she had written them a hundred times before.
"What is this line?" she asked.
"Duty," Kael said.
"And this?" she asked, moving her finger to the next line.
"Guard," Selina said.
"And this?" she asked, moving again.
"Lotus," Kael said.
Mira closed her eyes. The words sat next to each other and made a simple sentence.
"What does it say?" she asked. She wanted to hear them say it.
"Guard the Lotus through each age," Selina said.
Kael did not speak. He did not need to. The line under her finger glowed and went dim.
Shouts rose from the slope. A man in a black coat stood and pointed up at the shelf with both hands and shouted a name into a radio. Other men turned and looked at him. The man took his coat off and stepped forward. He held his arms wide as if he meant to show he hid nothing. He had no gun. He had no pack. He had a thin case under his left arm. He set it down and kicked it toward the rock and raised his hands again.
"It is Harland," Mira said. "It is his voice."
"Do not stand," Selina said.
Harland called without a loudhailer. His voice carried anyway.
"Mira," he said. "I want to talk. I am not here to hurt you."
Mira did not answer.
"I know you do not trust me," he said. "I know I have made mistakes. I can still help you. The Red Veil will not stop. Your friends cannot hold them off forever. You know this. You can hear it as well as I can. They will come back with more men and more tools. They will come back with things your friends cannot fight. I have a way out. There is a lab inland. It has a lower entrance that no one knows. We can go now. We can be there by night. You will have everything you need. You will have treatment. You will have privacy. You will not be chased if they think you are dead."
Mira kept her face still. Her hands wanted to shake.
Harland kept talking.
"Your father tried to keep you safe," he said. "He failed. He does not know what he is doing. He is scared. He does not listen. He is not thinking clearly. You know that. I can do what he cannot. I can shield you from both sides. I can be the person between the world and you."
Selina's mouth set hard.
"Do not listen," she said softly. "He speaks to your old hunger. He offers a room with no windows."
Mira drew a breath.
"Doctor," she called. "I do not need your lab. I do not need your treatment. I do not need you."
Silence rolled down the slope and back again. Harland stood with his arms still out. The men behind him shifted. One looked down at the case and then up at Harland and then at the shelf. Harland did not look back.
"Mira," he said. "Think."
"I have," she said. "I choose to stand here."
Harland's face went blank for a heartbeat and then smooth again.
"Then at least allow me to send up supplies," he said. "Water. Medical packs. You can accept them without speaking to me again. You can send someone else to take them. I will leave them and go."
"Do not take anything," Selina said.
"We will not take them," Mira said.
Harland inclined his head once as if to accept a plan in a meeting. Then he did a small, odd thing. He looked at her and smiled without showing his teeth and nodded like a man who had heard yes when a woman had said no. He put his hands down and stepped back.
"Very well," he said. "I will not ask again."
He turned and walked down the slope. The man who had looked at the case picked it up and followed him. The others fell in behind. None of them looked back up at the shelf with open faces. Mira only saw the top of Harland's head once where the trees thinned.
Kael exhaled through his nose.
"He will not try gifts again this hour," he said. "He will try a different door."
"What does that mean?" Mira asked.
"He will tell himself a new story," Selina said. "He is good at that."
The light over the sea shifted. The rift did not close, but it narrowed. The threads that fell out of it were fewer. A low bank of cloud moved in from the north. The far edge of the water went the color of slate. A gull crossed in front of the light and looked black.
Rian touched Mira's arm.
"Listen," she said.
Voices rose from the gate deep under the mountain. Not human voices. The sound moved up the tunnel like wind through a pipe. It had words in it, but the words were old. Mira did not know the language, but she knew the shape of it. It was not a threat. It was not a greeting. It was a steady call-and-answer like a work chant. Her chest eased when she heard it.
"What is that?" she asked.
"The city," Selina said. "It is fully awake now. The old shield engages at the hour mark of the rift. The call goes through the halls to check the lines. It will pass twice more today and then go quiet until night."
"And our people?" Mira asked.
"They know it," Selina said. "They answer without speaking."
The call passed. The air felt steadier. The clean belt Mira had drawn looked less thin. It held without her feeding it for a while.
Kael stood and rolled his shoulders once.
"I am going down to the gate," he said. "I will walk the inner ring to check the lower pillars. You will stay with Rian. You will not stand unless you need to. If you need to, you will sit as soon as the line holds. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Mira said.
"Say the word out loud," he said.
"Yes," she said. "I understand."
He held her gaze one breath longer and then went. His steps were quiet even on the old stone. He vanished into the dark with two others and a lamp.
Selina stayed at the edge and watched the slope. She spoke to runners as they came and sent them on without raising her voice. People moved in short, efficient lines around her. When she had a second, she drank from a cup and gave the rest to Mira.
For a while there was nothing new. Then came the sound of rotors again from the west. A helicopter broke from under the low cloud and came in low over the trees and then rose fast when it met the clean belt. It tilted sideways and showed the red stripe along its tail and logo letters in white. It hung on the far side of the line and blew the air hard. The clean belt bent but did not break. Men looked up from the slope and shaded their eyes. The helicopter turned and went south.
"They are testing," Selina said. "They will bring more."
A runner from the inner tunnels came at a jog.
"Message from the lower hall," he said. "The old scry mirrors lit. They show an island city on fire. They show a desert with a river made of light. They show a field where men in red robes stand in a circle and raise their hands and cut their palms and drop blood on the ground. A cloud formed and went down into the ground like a hand. When it rose, there was a shape in the middle. The shape moved."
Selina's eyes narrowed. "Where was the field?" she asked.
"West continent," the runner said. "South of the big river. The mirror shook and the image went out. Another mirror showed a square where men in armor faced a line of women with staffs. The women raised the staffs and the men fell without moving a step. The mirror faded."
"Keep watching," Selina said. "Write the place names. We will compare them to the old maps."
The runner nodded and went. Mira looked at Selina.
"What are staffs?" she asked.
"Tools that channel like your hands," Selina said. "They are slower. They are safer in crowds. They hold a line well. We will make some for you to try when you are strong enough."
"I want to try now," Mira said.
"No," Selina said. She was not unkind. She was final.
Mira fell quiet. She watched the line in the air for any thin point that might show, and when she saw one she stood and fixed it and sat again. The work had a rhythm now.
By midafternoon the first flood of beasts had passed and the stain held far from the mountain. The Red Veil units on the road had moved off toward the coast. The men on the slope kept their places in pairs and threes, pretending to search for missing hikers. They called out names into the trees. They took out yellow tape and tied it to branches. They did not go away.
Kael came back up from the lower gate with dust on his coat. He sat down beside Mira without speaking for a minute. He wiped his hands on a cloth and drank water and finally looked at her.
"The pillars held," he said. "The inner shield is strong. We can take two days of this without strain if you keep the belt thin."
"I can," Mira said. "It is hard. I can still do it."
"You do not have to prove anything," he said.
"I know," she said. She did not know if she knew, but she said it anyway and felt the words settle in her chest.
A cry came from the far west shelf. It was not a call. It was a warning. Everyone on the shelf turned. A shape moved fast along the clean belt like a drop of oil on glass. It was low to the ground and ran on too many legs. It did not hit the line head-on. It ran along it and looked for a spot where it bent. It found a notch behind a rock outcrop and gathered itself and leaped and was through before Rian could close it.
"Down!" Kael shouted.
The thing landed on the safe side of the line ten paces from a guard and kept running. It did not head for the shelf. It ran toward the inner path.
Mira did not think. She stood and stepped in front of it. It saw her and tried to turn. The turn failed. It slid on the stone like it had lost half its legs. It snapped its head at her knees and a row of white teeth clicked shut a finger's breadth from her skin. She lifted one hand out of reflex and the light flared. The thing made a sound like air leaving a pipe and collapsed.
Kael grabbed her by the shoulders and moved her behind him. Two guards finished the work. The thing lay still. Its skin went dull. The white teeth turned gray.
"Are you hurt?" Selina asked. She was at Mira's side at once, hands steady on Mira's arms.
"I am not," Mira said. She could not tell if she was lying. She took an inventory. No blood. No tears in cloth. No heat where there should not be heat. "I am not hurt."
"Sit," Selina said. "Now."
Mira sat. Her legs shook. Her hands shook harder. Kael went to the notch and held his hands over it until Rian reached it and set a straightening post and the line sealed again.
"Good," Kael said. He came back and crouched by Mira. "Do not do that again unless it is the only way."
"I did not think," Mira said.
"Yes," Kael said. "I saw."
Selina gave Mira another cup of water and made her drink even when she did not want to. Then she made her eat two mouthfuls of bread and half an apple. The food tasted like nothing at first and then tasted like bread and apple.
"You are pale," Selina said.
"I am always pale," Mira said. It was the closest thing to a joke she had made all day. Selina snorted once and shook her head.
The light in the east dimmed. The rift stayed, but it looked thinner. The clean belt around the mountain held without Mira's attention for longer stretches now. The wrong wolves did not return. The carver did not show. The stain in the air moved away north toward the cities on the plain.
Runners brought news in pieces. A river near the capital had reversed direction for an hour and then flowed again. A radio tower in the south had fallen and crushed a school with no one inside because the children had stayed home. A fire had burned all night in a hospital wing where no alarms worked. Three women with staffs had walked into a barricade and told the men to lay down their guns and the men had laughed and then slept on the ground and would not wake until the women were gone.
By late light the Red Veil men on the slope pulled back. They left two men at each marker, then one. As dusk settled, they left none. The slope went quiet. A fox crossed the lower trail and did not flinch when the wind moved. An owl called from the upper shelf. The answer came from far off and not from another owl.
"Night watch," Selina said. "Half and half."
Kael rose and gave the shifts. People moved to posts with no talk. Lamps were lit in the inner tunnels. Food went out. Children who had been kept deep came up for five minutes to see the last light and then were sent back down with a guard and a hand on each small back. The world felt like it had learned a new shape and would need days to understand it.
Mira stood and looked at the belt she had made. It looked like nothing at all. It looked like air. Her body hurt. Her head hurt in a way that felt clean. Her eyes ached. She wanted to lie down and sleep with her hands under her cheek like a child. She did not want to go anywhere else.
"Come," Selina said. "We made a place for you inside. Not the altar. A narrow bed with a good mattress and a blanket that does not itch."
Mira nodded. They went in. The corridor smelled like hot stone and soup. Somewhere down the hall, a woman laughed once and then covered her mouth. The sound made Mira's throat feel tight. It was normal. It was not a sound for this day, and somehow it was exactly the sound for this day.
Kael walked behind them with his hand out and did not touch her. He did not have to.
They reached a small room cut into the rock with a low ceiling and a flat shelf for a bed. A thick mat lay on it and a folded blanket. A bowl of water sat on a crate and a clean cloth next to it. Someone had set a cup on the shelf with half an orange in it. The smell was sharp and good.
Mira sat on the bed and wrapped the blanket around her shoulders. She took the cup. She looked at Selina.
"What happens tomorrow?" she asked.
"More of this," Selina said. "The rift will pulse again at dawn. The beasts will move again. The Red Veil will send a test team with better maps and a unit that knows our kind. We will hold. The clan will wake more halls. We will bring people in from the lower farms if the roads are clear. You will work for two hours and then sleep and then work again. We will not push you to collapse. We build strength. We do not burn it."
Mira nodded. She looked at Kael.
"What do you think?" she asked.
He did not rush.
"I think the world showed its hand," he said. "I think our old mandate is in force and not only for us. I think many doors opened today and some will not close. I think your flame did what we needed, and we will need it again. I think the Red Veil saw you stand and will not forget the shape of you. I think Harland will make a move that will cost him more than he expects. I think your father will run toward anything that promises him a place in the new order, and I think that thing will use him and throw him away. I think Nora will choose before sunrise. I do not know which way she will fall."
Mira looked down at her hands. The light under the skin was faint now. It pulsed with her heart. She set her palms together and felt the warmth there.
"I will not go with Harland," she said. "I will not go with Arthur. I will not be a tool."
Selina's face softened. "Good," she said. "You do not need to say it again, but you can any time you want."
Mira blew out a breath.
"Say it again anyway," Kael said, a small line near his mouth that might be humor.
"I will not be a tool," Mira said, and this time it felt larger in her chest and steadier.
"Good," he said.
A horn sounded twice from far below. The call was one she had not heard yet. Selina stood at once. Kael was already moving.
"What is that?" Mira asked.
"Council call," Selina said. "Old oath. The elders woke. The city is ready to receive the first circle. They ask if the Lotus will stand in the hall to set the seal."
Mira stood up too fast. Her head swam. She gripped the edge of the shelf.
"Do I have to?" she asked. "Now?"
"No," Selina said. "Not now. Not tonight. We will send word that you are awake and will come at dawn. We do not rush this. The seal will hold a night longer without a face to it. It is only a formal thing. The work you did today did more than any seal."
"Are you sure?" Mira asked.
"I am," Selina said.
"Then send that," Mira said. "I will come in the morning."
Kael went to carry the message. Selina stayed and pulled the blanket up around Mira's shoulders and tucked it without making her feel like a child. Mira lay down and closed her eyes. The stone felt like a hand under her back, flat and steady.
"Rest," Selina said. "I will sit at the door."
"You need to rest too," Mira said.
"I will trade with Kael in one hour," Selina said. "Sleep."
Mira tried. Sleep did not come at once. Sounds ran through the mountain. Voices. Steps. A soft clang of metal. A boy trying not to laugh and a woman hush. Wind in the cracks. Somewhere, very far down, water moved along the stone channel in a steady line.
Her breath fell into a rhythm with the water. Her hands cooled. The light under her skin dimmed and steadied.
Before sleep took her, a last thought rose clear in her chest and stayed.
The world is bigger than it was yesterday. It will be bigger again tomorrow. I will not be a tool. I will stand.
She slept.
Outside, the rift over the sea narrowed a hair more. The beasts turned their paths along the clean belt and away again. On the lower slope, two men in dark coats met under a fir and spoke in low voices.
"You told me she would run," one said.
"You told me the cult would fight the beasts," the other said.
"They will," the first said. "In the morning."
"And then?" the second asked.
"Then we try again," the first said. "And again. Until she is ours."
They parted. Neither looked up at the shelf where a white-haired girl lay on a stone bed with a blanket around her and a woman at her door and a man walking the line below like a clock that would not stop.
Night took the valley. The clean belt held. The mountain breathed. The old city under it answered in stone and light. The world did not sleep, but it paused long enough for people to catch one breath before the next hour began.