Lark Ascending by Meagan Spooner Read Free Book Online Page A

again—another anomaly, as Kris had called it, was about to sweep through the Wall. Last time it had shocked me so hard it had knocked me flat, and then I’d been at full strength.
    But wait—there’d been an instant, before the blast knocked me backward, when I’d seen through the Wall to the other side. The illusion of iron had vanished for a split second, compromising the Wall.
    â€œIt’s a weakness,” I whispered aloud.
    Kris was still talking, but Oren heard me and turned. “What?”
    â€œThe anomalies.” My mind raced. I had only a second or two before the ripple came through the Wall. If it blasted me this time, when I’d used so much of my magic already to try to break through the iron, there was no predicting what it could do to me.
    And yet…
    Movement in the distance caught my eye. A ripple was racing along the edge of the Wall toward us.
    Somehow, Oren realized I was about to move half an instant before I did. But I was ready for him and managed to dodge when he lunged for me. I threw myself at the Wall just as the distortion reached us. Magic seared my body, but this time I was ready for it, and I channeled the power back at the Wall. Every nerve screamed, on fire—but it was over in an instant, and I was flying through the air. I hit pavement and rolled, gasping. Hands pulled me up and dragged me along, a tangle of voices and a metallic, frantic buzzing emerging from the blood roaring past my ears.
    I opened my eyes to find Oren and Kris leaning over me and Nix buzzing this way and that, their concern almost tangible like a warmth against my face. But even their worry couldn’t distract me from what I could see beyond their faces. Instead of the clear, warm blue of the spring morning sky overhead, I saw only a broad, endless expanse of rippling, violet light.
    We were in. I was home.

CHAPTER 6
    Growing up, the Wall was always there. It was as constant as the air we breathed. It was impossible to imagine anything beyond it, anything more vast. To us, the Wall was the edge of the world.
    It wasn’t until I fled my home that I lived for the first time without its gentle violet glow bathing the world. Its absence was so profound that it throbbed like a wound. Even after I’d grown accustomed enough to the vast, empty sky that it didn’t give me nightmares, I still missed the feel of the Wall around me, constant and enduring.
    I’d expected to feel that sense of safety again, once I returned. Here there were no shadow monsters lurking. There was magic in the air, so Oren would stay human even without my presence. Not an abundance of food, but enough. Always just enough. No starvation, no running for my life.
    But instead, gazing up at the shimmering curtain of magic, I felt nothing. My heart was empty but for the constant background ache of hunger for power. The shadow in my soul stirred sluggishly, sensing the vast energy source all around me.
    â€œWe should get moving.” Kris kept his voice low, touching my elbow to get my attention.
    I let him lead the way. From all that Kris had told me, I’d half expected to find my home in ruins, on fire, streets running with the blood of the rebels and architects alike. But instead it was quiet. The streets were deserted, though this close to the Wall that wasn’t unusual. For a strange, dizzying moment I felt as though I was retracing my steps from the day I’d fled, in some frozen limbo. I could hear nothing: no hum of pixie wings, no distant sirens.
    The air was so still that the hairs lifted on my arms. I’d never noticed the city’s stillness when I lived here—I’d never felt wind before, knew no better. But now, my skin crawled. We were outside, in the open, walking down a street—and yet the air was close and still as though we were in a small, tight room. It was like being in a doll’s house—a doll’s city. As though everything around us was