Fracture (The Machinists) (26 page)

In the distance, a branch snapped and fell with a crash onto the forest floor. Save for the trickling water, the forest returned to silence. Allyn started upstream, climbing over the fallen tree that had stopped his tumble and using the underbrush for cover while keeping the creek in sight. He planned to follow the water until he was convinced he’d escaped Jaxon—who was hopefully going in the opposite direction—before climbing the ridge and doubling back to the manor from the north. Then he could find out what the hell was going on.

Even while attempting to be silent, Allyn trampled through the underbrush like a wounded deer. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been deep in the forest. That was more Kendyl’s thing. His favorite hiking trails were paved. This was wet and dirty and smelled of decay and death. Wasn’t nature supposed to be clean? Fresh?

Allyn hid his hands in the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt to protect them from the stringing nettles that were everywhere. He quickly gave up trying to hide in the underbrush and made for the creek. The cold water sucked the air from his lungs and threatened to numb his feet up to his calves, but it was quieter. In most places, the creek was less than ten feet wide and rarely deeper than his ankles. It flowed gently, except for a few places where the water funneled between narrow banks, growing deeper, tugging at his legs and almost pushing him over.

Allyn walked for what felt like an hour—the time was difficult to tell with the trees blocking out the sunlight—before beginning his trek back up the ridge. His shoes squished with each step. His feet tingled as feeling slowly returned. Trees protruded from the hillside and offered aid as Allyn climbed the ridge. One branch snapped free, and Allyn nearly tumbled back down the hillside. After regaining his footing, Allyn tossed the branch aside and started up the ridge again.

His legs weak and shaking, Allyn crested the tree line at the top of the ridge and entered a meadow with knee-high wild grass. The manor was nowhere in sight. He didn’t have time to be disappointed. A concussion of air hit him in the chest.

Blinking away tears and double vision, Allyn found himself on his back on the moist earth. Expressionless, Jaxon strode toward him with a baseball-sized ball of ice in his hand.

Allyn pushed himself backward, unable to stand. “What are you doing?”

Jaxon hurled the ice at him and shot it forward with air. It closed the distance between them in a blink.

Allyn threw his hands up and screamed. Red coils of lightning as thick as his finger sprang from his palms, twisting around themselves almost as if they were battling each other then shattering the ice into hundreds of harmless pieces. Another ice blast was already streaking toward him. He rolled to the side and shot it out of the air, too. Breathing heavily, Allyn held his wrists in front of him. Red bands of electricity wreathed around his arms, alive, twisting, radiating power—ready to be unleashed again.

“I don’t think anyone really believed me, and I almost doubted myself, but I knew it. I saw it with my own eyes.” Jaxon looked satisfied.

“It was a game?” Allyn asked angrily. The coils burned brighter. “You could have killed me!”

Jaxon dismissed Allyn’s anger with a wave of his hand. “It was weak fire and ice with dulled edges. Bruises maybe, but it wouldn’t kill you. And look what you did. You don’t have control over it. It’s instinctual. But you can do it. You can wield.”

Allyn held up his arms in front of him. The coils crackled and hissed when they touched one another. “What is it?”

“Some kind of electrical charge. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’m more curious where it comes from. Magic has a cost, Allyn, and without knowing what it is, I don’t know how safe it is to wield.”

“If it’s electricity, then my body should replenish it, shouldn’t it?”

“Perhaps. But your heart runs off an electrical system. Can you inadvertently wield too much and send yourself into cardiac arrest? Or can you unintentionally electrocute yourself?”

The charges continued to coil around Allyn’s arms, never going higher than his shoulder. They emitted a soft red glow and tingled his skin, but they didn’t burn. “They don’t hurt.”

A ball of fire formed in Jaxon’s hand. “When I wield fire, it doesn’t hurt me, either, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a danger to you.” He let the fire burn out. “Can you let the charge dissipate?”

Allyn looked at his arms,
willing
the charge to dissipate. Nothing happened. He looked to Jaxon for help.

“Electricity must be severed,” Jaxon said. “Pull the plug.”

It was easier said than done. The energy didn’t emit from a singular place. It flowed through his body, radiating from his toes to his fingers. Like an ocean of power, its depths were limitless. He thought back to the first time he’d wielded. The ability had begun in the void, so Allyn returned there. But it was no longer a void. It had become a ball of writhing energy, hot to the touch. Severing it was like smothering the sun—impossible. Instead, he
pulled
it back. Allyn imagined himself pulling on the energy like a rope, bringing it back under his control one yank at a time. As he reeled the electricity back into the void, the tendrils lost their glow until, at last, they dissipated entirely.

“Good,” Jaxon said.

It didn’t feel good. Allyn was exhausted as if he’d lost a wrestling match with himself.

“As you practice, it’ll get easier.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Allyn asked. “If it’s instinctual, I can’t control it.”

“You will be able to in time. Soon, I hope, if Lukas takes your bait.”

“Graeme agreed to it?”

Jaxon nodded solemnly.

Another weight suddenly fell on Allyn’s shoulders. He’d expected Graeme to move forward with his plan, but the reality was heavy. And even in victory would be destruction and death.

“Leira and I will be leaving tonight,” Jaxon said. “I wanted another session with you.”

“Tonight?”
So soon. Leira, too?
Graeme envisioned a deep splinter. Allyn hoped it didn’t make them look
too
vulnerable.

“Most of those leaving have already left. If we don’t leave with them, it will look suspicious, maybe even cause Lukas to question it. It’s better this way.”

Allyn didn’t disagree. They wanted Lukas to be bloodthirsty and chase them into a dark hole, not wonder if a trap waited for him inside. “I’ve got a lot to learn before Lukas strikes.”

“Nothing is preventing you but your own doubts. Ease those, and there’s no reason you cannot wield at will. The more you know, the more you immerse yourself in our world, the quicker that day will come.”

“Then tell me what you can.”

As Allyn and Jaxon returned, the sun slid slowly behind the pine trees along the western edge of the manor grounds. Its long rays streaked through bare branches to warm the frosty ground. The leisurely walk had taken hours, and Jaxon had used the time well. He listened to Allyn explain his block and offered ideas to overcome it. He was particularly encouraged when Allyn told him that he felt the empty space inside him.

“It is the key to wielding,” Jaxon had said. “It is also the most difficult to teach. Liam cannot wield because he can’t find the emptiness. Without it, he cannot pool his body’s elements into it, and he has nothing to project. But with you, we have the container and just need to fill it up. What did you feel that night at Lukas’s compound?”

“I felt helpless,” Allyn said.

“And how did
that
make you feel?”

“Are you my psychiatrist now?”

“A what?”

“Never mind,” Allyn said. “I was mad. Angry. Livid. We had finally saved Kendyl, and then, for no other reason but to save himself, Lukas lashed out and nearly killed her.”

“He
would
have killed her if not for you.”

Allyn nodded as his emotions from that night flooded back. “Everyone I’ve ever known has been taken from me. I wouldn’t let it happen again.”

“You used your anger as fuel.”

Allyn shrugged. It hadn’t been a conscious decision. It had simply happened, and he didn’t know how. If he did, he would have been able to wield on command.

“Emotion can be used in such ways,” Jaxon said. “But you must be wary of using it. Anger is particularly useful in wielding fire because it makes our hearts beat faster, blood race through our bodies quicker, our body temperature rise, which we then pull from to create fire. I imagine it helps with your ability, too. You can feel it now, can’t you?”

Allyn reached inside, probing the void. It had been a blazing ball of energy before, but now a shell protected it, and Allyn couldn’t get inside. He chipped at it, testing for weak points, but it was impenetrable. Growing frustrated, Allyn used his anger as a chisel to break away at the shield. The shell cracked, and energy seeped through the cracks like light through holes in a wall. Then as Allyn continued to break the shield apart, it burst, and energy flooded through him, causing his body to tingle. He directed it through his porous skin and let it coil around his arms like writhing snakes. It warmed his hands and arms but didn’t burn him.

“Not bad,” Jaxon said. “Strike that tree over there.” He pointed to an elm tree atop a small rise in the middle of the meadow.

Allyn projected the energy forward. It struck like a long band of electricity using him as an anchor. The tree exploded, and Allyn was thrown backward as the red bands winked out. Coughing, Allyn rolled onto his knees. He felt as though he’d been kicked in the chest. “What happened?”

“My best guess? The tree is denser than you are, so it, not you, became the anchor. So you were pushed from it, not it from you. How do you feel?”

Allyn staggered to his feet, wincing. “How do you think I feel?”

Jaxon laughed. “Can you wield?”

Allyn shook his head.

“Fueling yourself with anger comes with a cost. Your body can only maintain its heightened metabolic rate so long before growing tired, and when it’s gone, you’re left weak and depleted. And anger fades. As it does, so does its effectiveness. More importantly, anger makes us irrational, blind to our surroundings. If you can only wield when you’re angry, you won’t be much of a magi.”

Jaxon began to walk again. Allyn followed, struggling to keep up.

“But,” Jaxon said, “in your instance, I’m not against it. You were not trained to listen to your body as we were. In fact, you’ve grown to ignore it. So controlling it is impossible. You need a stimulant, for a time at least. But use old anger, latent anger, the kind you’ve lived with for years. It will give you the spark without the inconsistencies.”

“I’ll try,” Allyn said. “Do you think I’ll ever be able to wield fire or water?” He’d seen how useful water was to countering fire, and he doubted electricity would do anything to stop the magis’ favorite weapon.

“I don’t think so. You’re a new kind of magi, Allyn. You won’t be able to counter fire with water, but nobody will be able to counter you, either. If you can master your ability, you will be the most powerful magi in a generation.”

Allyn couldn’t help but feel elated. It meant he wouldn’t have to live in fear. He could make good on his promises. But he would have to train, learn to wield on command, and master his ability. He would. By the time Jaxon returned, Allyn would amaze him with his improvement.

The sky was a combination of white and dark clouds, and the sun had disappeared entirely behind the hillside as they rounded the side of the manor.

“You forgot my session.”

Liam sat at the base of the manor stairs. There was hurt in his eyes. He held a twig in his hands, breaking it in half, then breaking
those
pieces in half. He dropped them into a pile that sat at his feet. He’d been at it for a while.

“Liam—” Jaxon started.

“It’s okay,” Liam interrupted. “I’m not important. I can’t wield like
he
can.”

He’s been avoiding me because he’s jealous.
“Liam, it’s not like that.”

“I thought we were friends!” Liam’s voice cracked. “I thought you understood.”

“Understood what?”

Liam shook his head and stood, then turned to leave.

“Liam, wait!”

Liam ran up the stairs, two at a time, ignoring Allyn.

Jaxon took a step toward him, but Allyn stopped him. “This is about me. Not you. I’ll talk to him.”

Jaxon exhaled loudly. “That could be the last time I ever see him.”

“It won’t be.”

“I hope not.”

Me, too.

Chapter 19

L
iam was easy to find. Some people seek the comforts of their bed when they’re upset, while others find peace with close friends and family. But like Allyn, Liam escaped into his work. Regardless of what the kid thought, they
were
friends, and like all good friends, they knew each other well.

The glass door was closed, and the digital pad blinked red. Liam was sitting at the back of the library, with his face hidden behind his computer monitor. When he saw Allyn approach, Liam promptly ignored him.

Allyn knocked on the glass. Liam didn’t move. He was going to be difficult. After Allyn punched the code into the pad, it turned green, and the sliding glass door hissed open. Allyn stepped inside.

Liam looked up in surprise. “How did you…?”

“Your father’s trust isn’t without its benefits,” Allyn said.

Liam turned back to his computer. “Go away.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I don’t have to talk to you.”

“You’re right,” Allyn said. “You don’t have to do anything. But if you want to, I’m here and willing to listen.” He dragged another chair over and sat down across from Liam. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as Liam continued to ignore Allyn. He seemed bent on proving that he didn’t have to talk. That was fine with Allyn. He would wait as long as necessary. Something told him that the kid’s patience would wear out before his did.

Allyn got up and strolled through the room. He’d spent hours in the library, most of them helping Liam with his transcription, never paying much attention to the artifacts beyond the books. Most of them rested atop pedestals while the oldest and most fragile were protected within glass encasements. A leather jerkin hung stiffly on a wire mannequin’s torso. It was dark, almost black, with weathered elemental symbols sewn into the chest. Allyn wondered if it came from a time when magi weren’t required to hide or if it was something worn in the privacy of home.

Another embroidered jerkin, this one encased in glass, hung beside it. The clothing reminded Allyn of ceremonial military fatigues. The torn edges of the white leather were frayed. Stitched in what had probably originally been a vibrant red, flames circled the hem of the jerkin, and blue embroidered water droplets dripped from the shoulders. Between the fire and water was an ivory band that was several inches thick. Neither the fire nor the water penetrated the band.

Allyn continued through the room. Cases and pedestals held weapons—swords, maces, spears, and a particularly elegant six-foot staff with intricate lacework gilding its dark, smooth wood—and more tattered clothing. A wool pair of breeches with holes and slices stained with blood hung on the wall beside paintings and tapestries. A few evenly spaced sculptures filled out the room. They told the same story, each a different portrayal of the same event—the Fracture.

Houses burned. The soil was stained red with blood as the living magi fled in opposite directions. For the first time, Allyn thought he glimpsed Graeme’s fear of what would happen if they were discovered. Violence and bloodshed would follow. If hundreds had died during the Fracture, how many would die during a modern-day version? Instead of swords, maces, and spears, they would face guns, gas, and bombs. And they were greatly outnumbered. It wouldn’t be a battle. It would be a massacre.

It was only a matter of time before the magi community would be found again. Lukas’s ideology was pure—as long as they lived in the shadows, they would never regain the glory they had before the Fracture. But his methods would prove disastrous. They pitted magi against magi and Family against Family. His strategy broke the Families, making them weak. He used fear and violence as tools against his own people when they should be united.

Surrounded by weapons, shields, and armor, Allyn realized the magi were more vulnerable than ever before. Solidarity wasn’t enough. They needed an edge. They needed modern weapons, contemporary armor, an updated strategy, and someone who knew the world outside. They needed him. Allyn laughed, silently thanking his sister. Unwittingly, Lukas had given the magi Families the tool they needed. Kendyl had been right, again. They couldn’t leave, not when they were needed. She’d
felt
it, where Allyn had to
reason
it. How did she do it?

“That’s my favorite piece in here.” Liam watched him from his seat at the table.

Allyn had stopped in front of a golden dress of chain mail. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s been in my Family since its founding.”

Allyn lifted the bottom of the skirt. It was surprisingly flexible though heavier than he’d expected.

“I used to dream about wearing it,” Liam said. “Feeling the weight of it. Basking in its protection. But I realized it could only make a man
feel
more powerful. It can’t actually make him so.”

“Maybe making someone believe he’s stronger actually makes him so.”

“Feeling invincible is a quick way to find yourself dead.”

“You sound like Jaxon.” Allyn laughed. “But you have a point.” Allyn returned to his seat. Liam’s voice had lost its edge, but awkwardness still stretched between them. “I remember my first case. It wasn’t anything real exciting, but it was
mine
. I went in all bluster and flash, wrapped in my own armor of self-confidence, and I got my butt handed to me.”

“What happened?”

“I was unprepared. I didn’t understand how hard I needed to work, how many variables I needed to prepare for. It was an important lesson, and I’m thankful to say I haven’t made the same mistake since.”

“I like to think I work hard.”

“You do.”
You work harder than any kid I’ve ever met.

“And that’s what’s so frustrating. I try. I practice. I do everything I’m supposed to do. But I can’t wield.”

“I’m not so different,” Allyn said. “I can’t wield on command, either.”

“But you
can
do it.”

“I did it by accident.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

Allyn sighed. “You can’t compare yourself to everyone else. There will always be someone who can do something you can’t do or someone who can do it better.”

“You don’t understand. I’m the
only
one who can’t.”

“That’s not true. There’re more magi today that can’t wield than ever before.”

“I’m the only son of a grand mage who can’t.”

“You’re just the first,” Allyn said. “There will be more.”

“Yeah,” Liam said. “My kids. My family’s magical line ended with my father.”

“Now you’re just being morose,” Allyn said. “Don’t kick yourself for who you aren’t. Celebrate who you are.”

“And who’s that?”

“The most intelligent kid I’ve ever met. Sure, you can be a bit emotional at times, but you’re always honest. You care more about the artifacts in here than anyone else does, and you’re the only person actively trying to preserve them. That alone makes you special. And don’t get me started on what you can do with computers.”

“I am pretty good with them,” Liam said sheepishly. He smiled, his face flushing with color.

“Pretty good?” Allyn asked. “Liam, you’re a
wizard
with computers. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Liam’s smile vanished.

Damn it
, Allyn thought. He’d accidently reminded Liam of what he
couldn’t
do.
Kendyl was always better at this sort of thing.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“No, you’re right.” Liam dashed away from his chair, racing to the bookshelves. He piled several books in his arms, then carried them over to the table and sat down.

“What are you doing?” Allyn asked.

“I’m looking for something.”

“Obviously.”

“There have been periods in our history where our numbers have shrunk unexpectedly. I’m looking for dates.” He didn’t sound upset. His speech was quick and excited as each word rolled into the next.

“Can’t you do a search in your computer?”

Liam shook his head. “I haven’t gotten to these yet.”

“Can I help?”

Liam grabbed the top book off the stack and slid it to Allyn.

“What am I looking for?”

Looking up from his book, Liam thought for a moment. “Actually—” He snatched the book from Allyn. “I’ve got a better idea.” Liam quickly typed something on his computer and then turned the monitor to face Allyn. “I need dates of technological advancement. A time when technology has grown by leaps and bounds. The railroad, cars, space exploration, computers, all of it.”

Allyn pulled the computer closer and got to work. Liam worked more furiously than Allyn would have believed possible. He flipped through pages in a blur.

He doesn’t actually read that fast, does he?
Allyn’s own search was slower. He didn’t know where to begin to research the technological advancement of the modern world, so he started with what he knew: recent things, like the first home computer, telephone, and automobile. Then he worked his way back to electricity, the combustion engine, and the Industrial Revolution.

“Hmmm,” Allyn said to himself, jotting down the date and inventor of the telegraph.

Liam looked up from his book. His finished pile was taller than the unfinished one. “What?”

“It’s going to sound stupid, but I’ve never looked at it like this. The world’s evolved more over the last three hundred years than it had over the previous three
thousand
years combined.”

“Keep going,” Liam said, unimpressed. “We need to go further back. We need everything.”

He didn’t understand what Liam was looking for, but Allyn didn’t question him. When Liam was on a roll, questions fell around him like rain from a wet umbrella. So Allyn kept going. He wrote down dates for the first gun, the earliest known uses of antiseptic, and early-modern water purifiers. The advancements came fewer and farther between, and as a whole, they were less world changing than the previous ones. If modern advancements were the signs of cultural maturation, these were its foundation.

Liam returned to the bookcase for more books. His eyes were beginning to glaze over and his hair was more disheveled than usual, but he was smiling. It warmed Allyn. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Liam smile. Allyn’s own endurance was wavering, and he wasn’t sure how long they’d been at it. His original paper was full, front and back, with notable advancements, their dates, and discoverer or inventor. He remembered study sessions similar to this during college, but those were always group sessions and almost always involved alcohol, which meant they usually devolved into small parties. Studying had been more fun in college.

“That’s weird,” Liam said, going over his notes. All of his books were in the finished pile. “I’ve always been told our numbers have declined since the Fracture.”

“They haven’t?”

“Oh, no, they have, just not as sharply as I’d expected. And it’s not the declining rate of magi I’m investigating. It’s the declining rate of magi who can wield. It was a slow, steady decline until about the eighteenth century, when it spiked. And then it did it again at the turn of the last century.”

“That is weird.” Allyn grabbed his notes and walked around the table to stand over Liam’s shoulder. His legs were beginning to cramp, and standing felt good. “Any idea why?”

“Did anything momentous happen around the eighteenth century?”

Allyn eyed him curiously before reading his notes. “The Industrial Revolution.”

Liam nodded with a knowing smile. “And more recently?”

Allyn didn’t have to consult his notes. “The digital revolution.”

“Exactly.”

Allyn rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index finger. “The magi’s declining numbers directly coincide with major advances in technology.”

“No,” Liam said. “Not our declining numbers. The number of magi who can wield.”

“What are you saying?”

Liam’s smile split his face in two. His eyes grew moist. “I’m a
wizard
with computers.”

Comprehension struck Allyn in the chest like one of Jaxon’s concussions of air. It was the answer he’d been looking for.

“Your magic isn’t dying,” Allyn said. “It’s evolving!”

Chapter 20

L
iam crashed into Allyn. Crying and laughing, he wrapped his arms around Allyn in a tight embrace. Allyn returned the embrace, patting Liam on the back. He knew what it was like to cry tears of joy, and of relief. He’d done it after passing the bar exam, which had closed a door to that chapter of his life. He assumed that was how Liam was feeling.

“What now?” Allyn pulled away, still holding Liam by his shoulders.

Liam wiped his tears. “We tell everyone.”

Their excitement was quickly quashed as they entered the main level of the manor. The halls, which had been a chaotic mass of people earlier, were deserted and quiet.

“Where is everyone?” Concern filled Liam’s voice.

“I don’t know.”

Doors were ajar, exposing empty rooms, where belongings had been cast aside haphazardly as if the manor had been ransacked.
If we’d been attacked, we would have heard something in the library, wouldn’t we?
The library was essentially an enormous vault, both heavily insulated and climate controlled—a bomb shelter for ancient artifacts. The manor could crumble around it, but the library would remain intact.

Allyn entered a room. It was larger than his own, actually two rooms in one with a small eat-in kitchen. A crib rested at the foot of a queen-size bed, its blankets half on the floor. The separate room was hidden behind a half wall that extended just far enough to hide a second bed. Both were empty. Other than various nonessential items strewn about the room, nothing was out of the ordinary. No sign of a struggle or forced entry. Though very disorderly, the rooms were free of bodies, blood, or signs of battle. The occupants had fled.