Free Threading the Needle by Joshua Palmatier Page B

tenement.
    They moved swiftly, stayed inside buildings as much as possible, near windows so they could see by the light thrown by the distortion. At one point they descended into a basement, the way forward blocked by a building that had collapsed. Another time, they ascended to the rooftop, jumping over the firewalls and the narrow alleys between buildings. Allan and the Dogs didn’t hesitate, as if they’d done this a hundred times; the first few jumps, Kara’s heart was in her throat. She was grateful when they returned to the eerily vacant rooms below again. Before stepping into the small enclosure that covered the stairwell, she glanced toward the distortion and realized they were nearly halfway to its base.
    The worst part came when they reached the river. The Tiana was wide, the only way to cross one of the many bridges that spanned it. But the bridges were completely exposed, worse than the streets and plazas. And they were deeper inside Erenthrall now, closer to where the fires of the other groups had been.
    When they reached the buildings closest to one of the bridges, Allan halted the group. Cutter was waiting for them. They huddled down behind the windows of what had once been a bakery.
    They looked out on a wide park, the street leading to the bridge cutting through the low walls, benches, and patches of greenery and trees. The bridge arched up slightly, a wide section for pedestrians on either side. Stone statues rose at intervals, each figure holding a ley globe, most of them still intact but not currently lit. Farther up the river, she could see another bridge, although a section of that one had collapsed.
    â€œReport.”
    â€œI didn’t see any Wolves, and there’s no activity on this side of the river.”
    â€œWhat about the far side?”
    â€œHard to tell. I hit the roof and watched until I heard you approaching. I didn’t see anything near here. There’s something happening about ten blocks northeast—a fire, perhaps a clash between a few of the groups we noted in this area last night.”
    â€œMaybe that’s what pulled them away from the bridge.”
    â€œThere aren’t enough of them to watch all of the bridges normally anyway.”
    Dylan shifted closer to both of them, crouching down beside Kara. “Do we have to cross the river here? It’s too exposed.”
    â€œWe could head closer to the distortion along the river’s edge and try for another bridge, but then we’ll be closer to the River Rats,” Allan explained, never taking his eyes off the bridge and the river beyond. “I’d rather risk the smaller, less organized groups here. The Rats can be vicious.”
    Glenn’s eyebrows rose. “And these groups aren’t?”
    â€œWe’ll cross here, all in one group, all at once.” Allan motioned toward the window. “Same order as before. Cutter, aim for the southern edge of the bridge. We can use the shadow of the bridge’s wall as we cross.”
    Cutter nodded, already scanning out the window. Kara felt for the knife sheathed at her side, although she barely knew how to use it, then drew her hand across her slick forehead.
    At a gesture from Allan, Cutter slid down to the empty doorway and out into the street, Kara following the rest in a line. She stayed hunchedover, like Allan and Cutter before her, gaze cutting left and right until she reached the hedges of the park. Leaves brushed her shoulders and branches caught in the cloth of her shirt, but she didn’t want to move out of the shadows.
    They reached the end of the park, clustering in a corner, the bridge twenty steps away. In the distance, she could now see a column of smoke rolling into the sky, lit from beneath by the pulsing orange of a fire.
    As soon as Glenn and Tim had joined them, Allan touched Cutter’s shoulder, and the tracker sprinted across the walkway to the lee of the bridge wall. The rest were on his heels.