I returned to the point where I’d found Saska unconscious and stopped. Trey hit the door-open button and then climbed out, one hand on his blaster as he scanned our immediate surrounds. There was nothing and no one out there according to the sensors, and yet that odd sense of presence once again hit me as I stepped onto the sandy soil.
I stopped beside Trey and raised a hand to shield my eyes against the bright glare of the sunshine. “This really is a godforsaken land.”
“Not so much godforsaken as almost totally drained of life,” he replied. “It’ll be centuries yet before it’ll recover enough to become farmland again.”
I glanced at him. “I was under the impression it would never recover?”
“That was the initial thought, but the success of the regeneration projects at the outposts has proved otherwise.”
“I’m guessing the Adlin would love to see this entire area repopulated. There isn’t much more than Wildebeests and the occasional patrol for them to hunt here at the moment.” I took a couple of steps forward, and that weird sensation of something or someone being near began to fade. I swung around and returned to the spot where Saska had lain. The feeling reasserted itself.
“What is it?” Trey said.
“I don’t know.” I bent and splayed my fingers against the soil. The earth was warm against my skin, well heated by the day’s sunshine. But there was very little in the way of life and energy—not even the faintest echo.
I walked forward several yards, and then repeated the process. Though faint, this time there was definitely the glimmer of power. It pulsed across my skin like a distant heartbeat, warm and welcoming.
I glanced up at Trey. “I can feel the faint pulse of the earth magic here, but there’s nothing where you’re standing. It’s empty.”
“Which isn’t unusual. When the earth witches of old drew on the power of this place, they did so in waves rather than as a complete whole. There will be patches of life—places where the well of magic has already started to refuel.”
“Yes, but there’s something in that emptiness. A presence of some kind, but one that has no beat of life.”
His expression gave little away, but I nevertheless sensed his doubt. “How can there be emptiness and life at the same time?”
“I have no idea. I’m only telling you what I’m sensing.”
He grunted and splayed his fingers wide, reaching for the earth magic without actually touching the ground, as I generally did. His frown deepened and, after a few seconds, he swore and shook his head. “There is a barrier in place. I can’t reach the earth.”
“Is that barrier a result of this area being drained in the war? Or is it a new development?”
“It’s new in this area, but not in others. It almost appears as if the earth’s voice is being deliberately muted.”
“And yet you and the other witches seemed to be having no trouble reconstructing the walls.”
“Because not all of Tenterra is affected.” He walked over to where I stood. “I can feel the beat of earth here, for instance.”
“Are any of the dead areas near the outposts or Winterborne?”
“To be honest, we haven’t tested the land near Winterborne, but perhaps we should.” He frowned. “There is one patch that sits between Far Springs and ourselves that’s a good one hundred feet wide and rather worrisome, if only because it’s a more recent development.”
I raised my eyebrows. “How recent?”
“It’s happened in the last fifty years and runs from the banks of the Black River to the heart of Tenterra. It can almost be described as a highway of deadness.”
“Have you ordered the area to be excavated to see if there’s an underlying reason for it?”
“Yes, with the help of a couple of diggers from Winterborne. We went twenty feet down in various spots, but there was nothing except earth devoid of life and energy.”
“Perhaps we need to go deeper. There is something here—I’m sure of it.”
“Dead earth won’t respond to my commands. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
“Then maybe we should jointly try? I know you said it’s generally impossible, but the three kids were doing it. I can’t see why it won’t work for us.”
A smile touched his lips, but there was only wariness in his eyes. “Given you’re constantly achieving the impossible, it’s worth trying.”
He held out his hand. Once I’d placed mine in his, we walked across to the dead patch. He flared the fingers of his free hand wide; energy shimmered through the air, and throbbed through the connection of our hands. The earth beyond the dead spot stirred, rolling away from us in gentle waves, but earth in dead zone remained stubbornly inert.
“That,” Trey said, as the energy flowing between us eased, but didn’t entirely disappear, “is rather annoying even if not unexpected. I’ll order the diggers out from Blacklake, but in the meantime, we should—”
“Let’s try one more thing first.” I released my grip on his hand and then tugged off my boots and socks.
“I hardly think now is the time or place for such pursuits.” His expression was amused.
“It would seem to me that—according to you—there’s never a good time or place for such pursuits. At least with me.” I couldn’t help the slight bite in my voice. Frustration obviously hadn’t entirely left me, despite the shower episode. “But never fear, I’m not intending to seduce you, Trey. It would appear my ability to call on the earth is dependent on an actual flesh to earth connection, so maybe I simply need a stronger connection here.”
Something flickered through his eyes—frustration, perhaps, or maybe even annoyance. But all he said was, “That’s an interesting restriction, and one Eluria doesn’t have.”
“But she’s been trained, and I haven’t. And perhaps that lack is, in this case, more of an advantage, given I’m finding my own ways to power, and I’m not restricted by what should and should not work.” I held out my hand. “Shall we try again?”
We did. Unfortunately, the result was the same—nothing.
He released my hand. “Again, another not unexpected result. We should get moving if we’re to make it back to Winterborne before—”
“I’ve one final thing to try.”
He raised his eyebrows and motioned me to go ahead. I took a deep breath and reached, not for the earth but rather the air. It answered my call with a fierceness that knocked me back several steps and tore a gasp from my lips. Trey immediately grabbed me, bracing me as I directed the air at the earth. She hit it so strongly that dust and small shards of stone immediately pummeled the air, surrounding us in a halo of dead brown soil. She kept digging down, until the hole was far deeper than I was tall, and I could no longer see the bottom of it. And just as it seemed we would again find nothing, a tremor of exhalation ran through the wind and echoed through me.
The dead earth had given way to emptiness, and in the process revealed her secret.
There was a goddamn tunnel under our feet.
I released the air, but the minute I did, dizziness hit. I would have fallen had Trey not already been bracing me. I turned and rested my forehead against his chest, sucking in air and fighting the weakness that washed through me.
“Damn,” I muttered after a few minutes. “That’s never happened before.”
“It’s doubtful you’ve called forth that sort of power before now,” he said. “It was a pretty damn impressive display.”
I pulled away slightly and met his gaze. “Is the weakness a result of not having done the committal ceremony to the air?”
“No. All magic has its costs, even for those who have committed to our elements. Weakness is but one of those.” He raised a hand and gently brushed the sweaty strands of hair from my eyes. “The fact is, you shouldn’t have been able to call that much power, let alone exhibit such a degree of control.”
I frowned. “But Kiro said it was not unknown for the stained—”
“Yes, but they have to learn the means of control first, just like every other witch. You seem to have skipped that particular point, at least when it comes to the air.”
“Well, you did say I kept doing things I shouldn’t be able to.” I stepped back from his touch—even though part of me wanted to do the very opposite—and walked over to the shaft I’d excavated. It was a long pit of darkness.