Death Weavers

by Brandon Mull

  Cole forced his power into the gate and sensed the defensive weavings melting away. He crushed the iron monstrosity with everything he had. Metal shrieked and crumpled. Hinges burst from their moorings. The gate tore apart and crashed down amid a hail of shattered stone.

  Cole connected to the base of the wall at either side of the gateway and pulverized it. A landslide of stone blocks came roaring down. Gritty clouds of dust plumed outward. Voices cried out in alarm.

  Cole smiled. The dramatic results of his demolition efforts felt extremely satisfying. He wanted to do more. Tearing apart the fort would be easier than he had expected. But his friends were inside! Until he could see how things were arranged beyond the gate, Cole knew that doing more damage could harm the people he cared about.

  Besides, Thunder was now charging forward, loping confidently through the rubble. Cole squinted until they passed through the dust cloud. Callista roared from off to one side.

  Thunder galloped into a broad, high hall filled with scattering echoes, men and women. The echoes didn’t match the formidable appearance of the building. Nobody had weapons or armor. As Cole and Thunder rumbled down the hall, they veered toward the flustered echoes, trampling whoever came within range. Callista pounced and growled, springing from victim to victim.

  Cole felt his body stiffen but shook off the immobility with an effort of will. He opened the shutter of his lantern. Thunder ran so smoothly that Cole adjusted the beacon with no worries about falling. The glaring light immediately muted the music of the fortress and seemed to bother the echoes. He no longer felt the effects of anyone binding him, though he could see several echoes trying.

  Thunder paused before a door. Cole forced his power into it and tore it to splinters. With the beacon shining, Cole felt energy feeding him faster than he could use it.

  Echoes pressed against walls or dodged through doors to avoid the charging horse. Those who didn’t were slammed to the ground or trampled.

  The Mare faced another door, and Cole destroyed it, ducking as they rushed through and up a staircase. Cole blasted an iron door out of the way, and an angry echo charged from behind it. Rearing slightly, Thunder battered the attacker with her front hoofs, then stomped him when he was down.

  Cole and Thunder raced down a hall lined with barred cells. They stopped where a familiar man stood clutching the bars of his enclosure, smiling at the intruders.

  “Harvan!” Cole exclaimed.

  “Look at you!” Harvan said with a laugh. “Riding in on the Mare!”

  Cole focused on three consecutive bars of Harvan’s cell and pushed with his power. Instead of bending them, he changed them to dust.

  “You found your power!” Harvan admired.

  “You were a weaver,” Cole said.

  “Once upon a time,” Harvan replied.

  Cole leaned down and reached toward him. “Take my hand.”

  Harvan complied, and Cole pushed power into him.

  “Whoa,” Harvan said, stepping back. “How’d you do that?”

  “It’s part of my ability,” Cole said.

  “Cole . . . it’s back,” Harvan said. “I feel it. Really?”

  “Yep,” Cole said.

  “Great,” a familiar voice said. “My one useful talent has been replaced.”

  Cole shifted his attention to a shorter, balding man in a neighboring cell. “Winston!”

  “Don’t get too excited,” Winston said, squinting at Cole. “I’m just a dead echo. Little more than an imprint.”

  “But still so very optimistic,” Harvan laughed.

  “It was bound to happen, spending time with this guy,” Winston said, jerking a thumb at Harvan. “Next time we visit the Deadlands, I can join the party.”

  “Is the beacon bothering you?” Cole asked as Winston continued to squint.

  “It’s not pleasant,” Winston said. “But let it shine. You’ll need it here.”

  Cole dissolved three more bars so Winston could get out. “Have you guys seen my friends?”

  “Just the prisoners in this area,” Harvan said. “Sando is here somewhere, though. Just arrived.”

  “Did he bring Destiny?” Cole asked.

  “I don’t think so. Why would he have . . . Wait, you found her?”

  “And he stole her.”

  “He was just here trying to pry information out of me. Maybe half an hour ago.”

  “Halt,” a shapecrafter called from down the hall, having just come around a corner.

  Harvan held up a hand, and the man froze.

  “The echolands just got more fun,” Harvan said.

  Thunder crouched down.

  “Climb aboard,” Cole said. “We have places to go.”

  “You two go on ahead,” Winston said. “That lantern is a little much for me. I’ll bring up the rear.”

  “You follow,” Harvan said. “I won’t leave here without you.”

  “I’m not going to go find a slipstream or anything,” Winston said, waving them away. “Go help the others.”

  Harvan mounted behind Cole. Thunder rose, and they took off down the hall, slamming aside the shapecrafter Harvan had immobilized.

  They dashed down more halls. Cole disintegrated doors as needed.

  The echoes of Gamat Rue ran around in a state of panic. Cole met with little opposition. Thunder trampled whoever tried to take a stand. Apparently, the people who ran this place weren’t used to being attacked, especially by a rampaging horse and echoes they couldn’t freeze.

  After descending a level, Thunder stopped by another wall of bars. Jace stood behind them. Joe sat in the neighboring cell.

  Cole felt a huge surge of relief as a giant grin spread across his face. They were okay!

  “Took you long enough,” Jace said, arms folded.

  Cole turned some of the bars to silt. “That’s all I get?”

  Jace grinned. “All right. Thanks for springing me. Nice horse. Cool trick with the bars.”

  “Want to see a cooler one?” Cole asked, dangling his little golden rope and pushing power into it.

  “No way!” Jace exclaimed, all casual pretenses disappearing. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “A friend made it,” Cole said, tossing it to Jace. Though it had left his grasp, Cole maintained a gentle connection to the rope, still feeding it power.

  Jace caught it, then made the rope lengthen and curl around some of the remaining bars. “All right,” Jace said. “Time for some payback.”

  “Stay near me,” Cole said. “The light from the beacon will help protect you.”

  “Should I get down?” Harvan asked. “I’m probably faster.”

  “Not when I have this,” Jace said, making his golden rope twirl and dance.

  Joe cleared his throat.

  “Hi, Joe,” Cole said, turning more bars to dust.

  “Good to see you, Cole,” Joe said. “Unbelievable.”

  Thunder snorted.

  “We have more to do,” Cole said.

  Thunder proceeded more slowly, allowing Joe to keep up. Jace stayed with them using his golden rope, sometimes grabbing distant beams or bars to sling himself forward, other times coiling the rope behind him then uncoiling it like a spring. When echoes evaded Thunder, Jace often seized them with the rope and bashed them against the ceiling, walls, floor, and any other available surfaces.

  They descended many stairs. The downward angle felt precarious to Cole, but he leaned back, gripped with his knees, and held tight with his free hand. Even on stairs, Thunder remained incredibly sure-footed, keeping the ride unnaturally smooth.

  Although still muted by the beacon, the music became even more threatening the lower they descended. At the bottom of a serpentine stairway, Cole crumpled an iron door, and they entered a vast cavern.

  Most of the ceiling and walls looked like the natural stone of a cave, though some masonry had been added. A multitude of shapecrafters was gathered on the far side of the cavern. At the center stood a woman draped in a dark, os
tentatious outfit. She faced Prescia, who knelt motionless, hands bound. Sando was among those standing nearby. Beyond the group, several cells at the far end of the cavern held prisoners, including Honor, Desmond, and Drake.

  “The lady in black is Nandavi,” Jace said.

  “All the most important prisoners are down here,” Harvan complained. “Why didn’t I make the cut?”

  Jace used his rope to spring toward Nandavi and the group around Prescia. Harvan and Joe started running in that direction as well.

  Thunder knelt down. Cole took it as a signal to slide off. Once his feet hit the stone floor, Thunder bolted forward with astonishing speed.

  Cole drew his Jumping Sword but paused once it was out of the sheath. Jace, Harvan, and Joe stood frozen. Apparently, they had gone beyond the range of the protective lamplight from the beacon. Nandavi had her arms extended toward them, her lip curled in an angry sneer.

  Cole glanced at the beacon. He had never tried to force power into it, but establishing a connection felt easy. Gritting his teeth, he flooded power into the lantern, and it brightened immensely. The brighter beacon nourished Cole faster than before. The more energy he sent out, the more he got back! Cole pushed even harder, and the glare of the beacon intensified to fill the spacious cavern. The music of Gamat Rue could no longer be heard.

  Bathed in white light, Nandavi shrieked. Jace snatched her with the golden rope and began bashing her into other shapecrafters. Prescia lunged to her feet and froze a trio of shapecrafters. Thunder raced around the room trampling the shapecrafters who tried to scatter. Harvan and Joe reached the main group and attacked with their fists.

  Cole’s attention shifted to the far end of the cavern, where Sando and a pair of large shapecrafters had retreated to Honor’s cell. Cole pointed his Jumping Sword at a spot high on one wall and shouted, “Away!” He launched into the air. When he reached the wall, he pointed his sword at the ground near Honor’s cell and shouted the command again as he kicked off the stony surface.

  Rushing across the upper reaches of the cavern, Cole passed over where Jace, Harvan, and Prescia were fighting. In her panther shape, Callista had joined the melee as well. Cole kept pushing extra power into the beacon as he flew.

  As he approached the rocky floor, the Jumping Sword slowed him enough that he managed to stumble to a stop without falling. Sando was already inside of Honor’s cell, his assistants at her sides, holding her as she squirmed.

  Sando shot Cole a wink, then he, the two assistants, and Honor all disappeared.

  Cole stared at the empty cell. What had just happened? Could Sando teleport?

  Cole turned to his friends. Jace continued to use Nandavi like a wrecking ball. Thunder ran wild. Callista pounced and snarled, razor claws raking. Harvan threw punches. Joe had a shapecrafter in a headlock. Prescia met Cole’s eyes.

  He crossed over, her voice spoke to his mind.

  Cole wanted to kick himself. Of course! At Gamat Rue echoes could cross to the Necronum side. Sando had done it when he captured Jace and Joe.

  How would he follow them?

  I can help, Prescia communicated silently.

  Extending his sword, Cole jumped to her.

  “Send me,” he said.

  “Your echo will be vulnerable there,” she warned. “Easier to kill.”

  “Fine,” Cole said.

  “You’ll have to leave the beacon,” she said. “It won’t cross.”

  Since Prescia had given the Weaver’s Beacon to him in the first place, Cole could think of no better person to leave it with. He set the lantern down, and the light output returned to normal.

  “Hurry,” Cole said.

  The cavern disappeared, and he was back at the ruined version of Gamat Rue in Necronum. He stood in the same bare clearing where Sando had first immobilized them, surrounded by crumbling architecture. The sun shone down from a partly cloudy sky.

  Honor, Sando, and his two henchmen were just beyond the far side of the clearing, hurrying away into the maze of ruins. One of the shapecrafters carried Honor over his shoulder, while the other waved his arms, apparently weaving to keep her immobile.

  When Sando saw Cole, he squealed, alarm in his eyes. His grimace showed his shiny gums. The old beggar produced a knife. “Halt!” he demanded, darting toward the henchman who held Honor.

  Cole understood what he meant to do.

  Echoes were much more vulnerable on this side.

  Sando was going to kill Honor.

  There was no time to think.

  Cole aimed the Jumping Sword at a point a little ahead of where Sando was running. His power felt different here, still present, but a little less distinct, a bit harder to reach. Was it the absence of the Weaver’s Beacon? Or maybe just being back in Necronum? Regardless, Cole forced extra power into the sword and shouted, “Away!”

  He shot through the air low and fast like an arrow from a bowstring. Cole had never accelerated so quickly before—the influx of power had definitely boosted the jump.

  The shapecrafter holding Honor had stopped. She hung over his shoulder, immobile, defenseless. Sando had his arm raised to strike with his knife when Cole cannonballed into the wiry beggar, ramming the Jumping Sword through his back. Both he and Sando collided with the shapecrafter who was weaving to keep Honor paralyzed. All three of them crashed to the ground. Cole kept his hand on the hilt of the Jumping Sword and could feel it jerking and jiggling as Sando hitched and quivered.

  Suddenly, Honor could move. She thrashed, the shapecrafter carrying her lost his grip, and she flopped to the dirt. Honor sprang to her feet, brushed Cole’s hand from the hilt, placed a boot against Sando, and yanked the Jumping Sword from his body. The old beggar’s spasms stopped. He stared at nothing, eyes blank.

  Cole’s mind raced at the sight of Sando’s lifeless body. It didn’t get any easier—every time he had to hurt someone, even to save himself and his friends, it still sent shockwaves through his system.

  Honor turned to face the other shapecrafters and found them motionless.

  Cole got to his feet, perplexed by the unexplained stillness.

  “I have them,” Prescia called from the center of the clearing. Apparently, she had followed Cole across. The Grand Shaper of Necronum stood with the fingers of one hand fluttering. Keeping the two shapecrafters immobilized did not seem to require much of her concentration.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” Honor said, holding up the Jumping Sword.

  “Not a bit,” Cole replied. “That was quick thinking.”

  “Not as quick as you,” Honor said. “They had me. I owe you my life. Thank you.”

  Cole shrugged, pleased and embarrassed. She was so tall and confident and brave and pretty. Had he really saved her? “You’re welcome.”

  Honor returned the sword to Cole. “These two are prisoners now. Let’s take them back across and lock them up.”

  “Can you bring all five of us across?” Cole asked Prescia.

  In a blink they were back inside the cavern below the echolands version of Gamat Rue. Cole and Honor stood near the cells. The two shapecrafters huddled inside of one.

  “You can adjust locations a touch when you cross if you know what you’re doing,” Prescia explained, picking up the Weaver’s Beacon.

  The cavern was quiet. Nearly two dozen echoes lay strewn about the room, apparently lifeless. A smaller group cowered on their knees, heads bowed, hands laced behind their necks. Thunder oversaw the group, with Callista, Joe, and Harvan nearby.

  “Cole killed Sando,” Honor announced.

  “Nicely done,” Harvan said. “That was quick.”

  “It had to be,” Honor said. “Sando was about to dispatch me.”

  “Lucky I had the Jumping Sword,” Cole said humbly, sheathing the blade. His hands shook slightly, and he hoped no one saw. He turned to the cell holding Drake and Desmond. “Where’s Ferrin?” Cole asked the seedman.

  Drake jerked a thumb at two trunks in a neighboring cell. “His pieces are t
ied up in sacks inside those two containers,” Drake said. “It was all they could do to stop his escape attempts. He almost got away twice.”

  “Handy when you can pull yourself apart,” Desmond added.

  Thunder whinnied and stamped a hoof.

  “Thunder’s right,” Cole said. “I’ll open your cells, then let’s get out of here. We have one last visit to make.”

  CHAPTER

  35

  UNITED

  My rope stopped working when you crossed over,” Jace said, holding up the small golden strand. “It shrank and wouldn’t respond to any commands.”

  They stood outside of Gamat Rue, having exited the fortress without interference. The other shapecrafters had either fled or hidden.

  “I have to keep powering it,” Cole said. “When I charged up the rope, I created a connection that kept drawing a trickle of power from me. Once I crossed over to Necronum, the connection broke.”

  “Do you mind powering it up again?” Jace said. “I’d feel more peaceful.”

  “Sure,” Cole said, touching the strand and nudging power into it. “Good as new.”

  Jace lengthened it and shrank it. “You’re officially useful.”

  “That’s a relief,” Cole said.

  “What about Hunter? Shouldn’t his dead echo be around someplace?”

  Jace lowered his gaze. “Sando knew Hunter’s reputation as an Enforcer. He decided Hunter was too dangerous—even as a prisoner—and threw his dead echo into a slipstream.”

  “So Hunter will just skip the Echolands if he dies,” Cole said.

  “It isn’t the funnest place I’ve been,” Jace consoled. “Tell me how you got your power back.”

  Cole first explained how he met Harvan, Winston, Drake, and Ferrin. He went on to relate how they had freed Desmond and how Winston had died, allowing Cole to reach She Who Stands at the Summit. He then told about meeting Dandalus and finding Destiny. As Cole shared his tale, the others gathered to hear.

  “You actually spoke with Dandalus?” Prescia asked, astonished. “His living echo?”

  “His existence has been a secret,” Cole said. “But he never told me not to talk about him. He was planning to change the location of his hideout. He doesn’t want anybody to know how to find him. Seems like She Who Stands at the Summit controls access to him.”