Read Online Shattering the Ley by Joshua Palmatier - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Joshua Palmatier
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that I speak the truth and that the concern is real.”
Her father glared at him. For a long moment, neither relented. Kara set the tray down in a free space on the desk, next to the sandglass, and poured two cups of tea. Her hands shook, but she didn’t spill any.
Finally, the stiffness in the gardener’s shoulders relaxed. He let a breath out through his nose and shook his head. “You are deluding yourself if you think this can be ignored. You must have seen signs.” He glanced toward the ley globe that hung above the desk. “How did you know it was Kara at the door when we arrived? You didn’t turn.”
“I assumed—”
The gardener’s eyes narrowed and her father halted, mouth open, then bowed his head.
“I knew because the globe brightened.”
The gardener nodded. “And have you seen other manifestations like that?”
Grudgingly, as if dredging the admission up from long buried depths, her father said, “Yes.” He glanced toward her and she stepped forward and handed him the cup of tea she held. He pulled her in closer, one arm holding her protectively, and somehow that gave his voice more strength. “We—my wife and I—have seen her repair the globe when it flickers. I don’t even think Kara’s aware she does it. She just . . . reaches up and touches it and it steadies. When customers bring in ley clocks, they seem to burn brighter, even before I repair them.” He hesitated, then added, “And then there’s what happened during the sowing.”
This caught the gardener’s attention. “Something happened during the sowing?”
“She fainted. The healer said that the excitement of the sowing overwhelmed her, and my wife and I want to believe him . . . but we think it was something else.”
The gardener’s gaze dropped to Kara and he studied her for a long moment. Her father’s arm tightened where it draped over her shoulder, making her fidget. Then the gardener knelt, so that his eyes were level with Kara’s.
“Tell me what happened, Kara. What did you feel during the sowing?”
Kara shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. “I don’t know. My body tingled, and I could feel the ground, as if something was drawing something from inside me out through my feet and into the ground, sort of like what it feels like when you touch me.”
The gardener’s eyebrows rose. “You can feel the energy when I touch you? Flowing through me to you?”
“Yes. But more of it’s flowing from me to you.”
The gardener grunted, thought for a moment, then asked, “What else happened at the sowing? There must have been something else, or your father wouldn’t have felt the need to call a healer.”
“The tingling got worse. I couldn’t move. And then when it ended, when the tower was finished, the tingling stopped, but I felt weak. I couldn’t stand up anymore.”
“She fainted,” her father said roughly. “She collapsed in my arms.”
The gardener nodded, as if he understood. He patted her shoulder, then straightened. “I’m certain it was frightening, for both of you. But I’m not surprised that it happened. Not if what I suspect is true. I’m certain the sowing affected many others in the city.”
“What do you mean?” her father said.
“You already know, or suspect.” He glanced toward Kara. “And I’m certain that it’s occurred to Kara as well. But there is a way to be certain, one that won’t involve anyone else, in case our suspicions are unfounded.”
“How?”
The gardener hesitated, contemplating Kara, then shook his head. “I don’t want anything I say to influence the outcome. She’s probably heard too much already. But if you want to know for certain, bring her to Halliel’s Park tomorrow, after school. I’ll be waiting.”
A shiver ran down through Kara’s back, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.
As Kara and her father approached the gates of Halliel’s Park, she felt again the energy through her feet, realized she could feel all of
Her father glared at him. For a long moment, neither relented. Kara set the tray down in a free space on the desk, next to the sandglass, and poured two cups of tea. Her hands shook, but she didn’t spill any.
Finally, the stiffness in the gardener’s shoulders relaxed. He let a breath out through his nose and shook his head. “You are deluding yourself if you think this can be ignored. You must have seen signs.” He glanced toward the ley globe that hung above the desk. “How did you know it was Kara at the door when we arrived? You didn’t turn.”
“I assumed—”
The gardener’s eyes narrowed and her father halted, mouth open, then bowed his head.
“I knew because the globe brightened.”
The gardener nodded. “And have you seen other manifestations like that?”
Grudgingly, as if dredging the admission up from long buried depths, her father said, “Yes.” He glanced toward her and she stepped forward and handed him the cup of tea she held. He pulled her in closer, one arm holding her protectively, and somehow that gave his voice more strength. “We—my wife and I—have seen her repair the globe when it flickers. I don’t even think Kara’s aware she does it. She just . . . reaches up and touches it and it steadies. When customers bring in ley clocks, they seem to burn brighter, even before I repair them.” He hesitated, then added, “And then there’s what happened during the sowing.”
This caught the gardener’s attention. “Something happened during the sowing?”
“She fainted. The healer said that the excitement of the sowing overwhelmed her, and my wife and I want to believe him . . . but we think it was something else.”
The gardener’s gaze dropped to Kara and he studied her for a long moment. Her father’s arm tightened where it draped over her shoulder, making her fidget. Then the gardener knelt, so that his eyes were level with Kara’s.
“Tell me what happened, Kara. What did you feel during the sowing?”
Kara shifted uncomfortably beneath his gaze. “I don’t know. My body tingled, and I could feel the ground, as if something was drawing something from inside me out through my feet and into the ground, sort of like what it feels like when you touch me.”
The gardener’s eyebrows rose. “You can feel the energy when I touch you? Flowing through me to you?”
“Yes. But more of it’s flowing from me to you.”
The gardener grunted, thought for a moment, then asked, “What else happened at the sowing? There must have been something else, or your father wouldn’t have felt the need to call a healer.”
“The tingling got worse. I couldn’t move. And then when it ended, when the tower was finished, the tingling stopped, but I felt weak. I couldn’t stand up anymore.”
“She fainted,” her father said roughly. “She collapsed in my arms.”
The gardener nodded, as if he understood. He patted her shoulder, then straightened. “I’m certain it was frightening, for both of you. But I’m not surprised that it happened. Not if what I suspect is true. I’m certain the sowing affected many others in the city.”
“What do you mean?” her father said.
“You already know, or suspect.” He glanced toward Kara. “And I’m certain that it’s occurred to Kara as well. But there is a way to be certain, one that won’t involve anyone else, in case our suspicions are unfounded.”
“How?”
The gardener hesitated, contemplating Kara, then shook his head. “I don’t want anything I say to influence the outcome. She’s probably heard too much already. But if you want to know for certain, bring her to Halliel’s Park tomorrow, after school. I’ll be waiting.”
A shiver ran down through Kara’s back, but she couldn’t keep the smile from her face.
As Kara and her father approached the gates of Halliel’s Park, she felt again the energy through her feet, realized she could feel all of