Death Weavers Read online

  Now that the moment had arrived, Cole felt deep reluctance. He touched the ringer in his pocket. There had been no word from Sando since the morning they left Rincomere. The old echo had already made it clear that visiting Gamat Rue was a bad idea. The prospect of finding out how bad made Cole a little nauseated. He noticed Jace’s tight grip on his crossbow.

  “Let’s get this over with,” Mira said.

  Tuto moved as if to continue up the hill, then hesitated and looked over his shoulder. “Take care with your weapons. Without caution, the chances are greater of us hurting one another than damaging any echoes.”

  Cole took his hand off the hilt of his Jumping Sword. He noticed Jace engage the safety on the crossbow.

  Staying near the others, Cole weaved between low piles of rubble and passed the first crumbling wall of the prison. As he stepped beyond the wall, an immense feeling of dread took hold of him. Something was not right here. The temperature noticeably dropped, and the air became clammy. Suddenly, the daylight felt wrong, almost as if he had put on tinted sunglasses—the light seemed a bit dimmer, and the colors were off. His instincts screamed for him to run.

  “Feel it?” Tuto asked. “This is our warning.” His voice was too muffled, as if speaking from another room.

  Cole’s skin rippled into goose bumps, and the hairs on his arms and neck stood tall. Beside him, Jace breathed shallowly, wide eyes darting. Cole nudged him with his elbow. “Scared?” Even from his own lips, the word seemed distant. Cole remembered words sounding like this once when he took a flight with a cold and his ears were slow to pop.

  Focus returned to Jace’s gaze. He clenched his jaw and gave Cole a scowl, his thumb on the safety of his crossbow.

  “This way,” Tuto said, walking briskly.

  The top of the hill was either naturally flat or else had been leveled to accommodate the prison. As Cole advanced, he found the perspectives confusing. There were more walls and pillars than it appeared from down the hill, and the distances between them were disconcertingly unpredictable. A stony barrier looked ten paces away, but he would reach it in three. Another appeared five paces away, but it would take fifteen steps to get there. He got the feeling that when he wasn’t looking in a particular direction, the ruins were shifting position, only to hold mockingly still when his gaze returned.

  Stepping carefully around a heap of broken slabs, Mira quietly drew her Jumping Sword. Joe stayed at her side. Jace pointed his crossbow toward the ground and released the safety, his finger near the trigger.

  Hunter came closer to Cole. He muttered something inaudible, then raised his voice. The words were still almost too soft to hear. “This place is crammed with echoes.”

  “Yeah?” Cole asked.

  “I haven’t looked across. But I can feel them.”

  “I can feel something,” Cole said. The dread inside was mounting. He wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to talk. He felt like a mouse sneaking through a room full of sleeping cats.

  “Stay calm,” Hunter said. “Hopefully, we can get this over with quickly.”

  The air was unusually heavy and still. It seemed reluctant to fill Cole’s lungs, reluctant to carry words, reluctant to part for intruders.

  Tuto led them purposefully to a circular clearing at the center of the ruins. Unlike elsewhere, no brush or weeds grew inside the circle. No walls or rubble interrupted the naked expanse of rock and dirt, though plenty surrounded it.

  Give the ringer to Jace, a voice instructed in Cole’s mind. The words came clearly—apparently, the drowsy atmosphere of Gamat Rue didn’t interfere with mental communication.

  “Now?” Cole asked, the whispered word barely making it past his lips.

  Tuto instructed them to gather in a ring.

  Yes, immediately, Sando replied in his mind.

  Cole formed a circle with the others, Hunter on one side, Jace on the other. Wasn’t this a suspicious time for Sando to make this request? Couldn’t it wait until they got out of the prison? Was he up to something?

  We had a deal, Cole, Sando insisted. Deliver the ringer now, or you break your promise. You don’t want to do that in a place like this. I’ve been helping you. Quick. Do it now.

  Cole’s hand went to his pocket, and his fingers easily found the ringer.

  “Jace,” Cole murmured. His friend didn’t hear, so he repeated it louder.

  Jace glanced at him.

  Cole held out his hand, the silver ringer pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

  Looking a little bewildered, Jace extended his hand.

  Cole set the ringer on his palm.

  And Sando appeared in the middle of the circle. “Hold them,” the wiry beggar commanded, his voice unusually resonant.

  Tuto began gesticulating, hands describing fluid patterns as he crouched and swiveled. Cole’s head was tugged upward, his muscles tensing in unison, and suddenly, he couldn’t move. Even his eyes were locked in place, though he could see the others around him, at least peripherally. They all held their chins up and stood very still.

  Tuto continued to pivot and pose, as if demonstrating a martial art.

  “Greetings,” Sando said with a toothless smile, eager eyes taking in the entire group. He looked perfectly tangible. “I am the echo who helped you elude capture twice. Cole was kind enough to complete our bargain and release me from my promise to do no harm.”

  Cole couldn’t move, but everything inside of him withered. Here was the real price of Sando’s help! The moment Cole handed over the coin, the old beggar had been freed to turn on them precisely when they were most vulnerable. And Tuto was clearly an accomplice. In complete stillness, Cole battled fruitlessly to move. He had failed to foresee how delivering a coin could lead to serious trouble. He had made the wrong deal with the wrong echo. Consequently, he and his friends were doomed.

  Hunter collapsed. Cole tried to turn his head, or at least his eyes, but could do nothing more than pay extra attention to his peripheral vision.

  “I see you mean to rush this,” Sando said irritably. “Tuto, permit all but Mira and Cole to speak. I need volunteers to cross to the echolands. Without other offers, I take Mira.”

  “Me,” Jace said immediately.

  “No, me,” Joe volunteered right after him.

  Cole tried to speak, but his vocal chords refused to respond. He couldn’t even grunt. The only action he could manage was to breathe very slowly.

  “Nandavi?” Sando called, pointing at Jace. “Him.”

  Jace flopped to the ground. Cole could only see him in the corner of his vision, but after hitting the dirt, Jace looked very still. Cole didn’t see Nandavi anywhere. If she was present, she wasn’t visible.

  Cole lurched and lunged and thrashed and screamed, all without budging an inch or making a sound. He couldn’t even go limp. Every muscle remained tightly fixed in position.

  Then Sando pointed at Joe. “And him.”

  Joe crumpled as well. Cole could see this better, since Joe was across from him.

  Cole exerted himself violently but again failed to even twitch. His friends were dying! It was his fault! And there was nothing he could do.

  Sando grinned at Mira. “I neglected to clarify that even with those volunteers, you will still come to the echolands. My preference would be to keep this tidy. Mira, I will claim Cole unless you volunteer. Tuto, let her speak.”

  “Will he live if I volunteer?” Mira asked sharply.

  “I will not take him to the echolands if you come now,” Sando said. “Hurry. The offer won’t last.”

  Cole tried to scream No! Nothing came out. Not a squeak. Not a whimper.

  “You won’t take him to the echolands?” Mira asked. “Or he will live and go free?”

  Sando wrinkled his nose. “Fine. Yes. Cole will live and go free.”

  “All right,” Mira said.

  “Nandavi?” Sando asked, indicating Mira.

  She dropped like a marionette with her strings cut. Mira didn’t just look uncon
scious. She looked dead.

  Cole no longer tried to thrash. He seemed to shrink. Jace, Joe, and Mira? Just like that? He couldn’t sag. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t blink. He could only stand there with his chin up, his muscles frozen, and his heart desolate.

  Sando glanced at Tuto, who continued to flutter his arms and fingers. “This got a little messier than I would have preferred. The boy Dalton stayed behind, and Cole must be monitored—”

  Hunter appeared. Cole felt confused. Hunter was slumped on the ground on the opposite edge of his vision from Jace. And yet he had just materialized between Cole and Sando.

  The Hunter who had just appeared dove toward Jace, snatched the crossbow, rolled, and aimed. The quarrel hit Tuto in the chest.

  And suddenly, the stretched feeling in Cole’s neck ended. His other muscles relaxed as well. He could move!

  Without pause, Cole drew his sword and charged Sando. The elderly beggar snarled and shuffled away from him. Reaching into his loose sleeve, Sando withdrew a knife, the blade much shorter than the Jumping Sword.

  Cole didn’t slow. He hacked at Sando’s neck, but the beggar ducked and slid away, swinging his knife but not quite reaching Cole’s belly. Hunter had his sword in hand and quickly looped around behind Sando. The beggar noticed and lunged toward Cole, trying to stab him, but Cole knocked the blade aside with his sword, then slashed Sando’s arm with a return stroke.

  Sando vanished with a shrill yelp.

  Hunter disappeared as well, his sword falling to the ground.

  Tuto lay in the dirt, a shaft jutting from his ribs, chest hitching as redness gurgled from his lips. His eyes were tightly closed, his face scrunched in agony.

  Cole ran to Mira. Her hair lay across her face. He hesitated to touch her. She wasn’t just asleep. Her body looked lifeless. He brushed the hair away and felt for a pulse in her neck. She wasn’t breathing. He could find no pulse. How could she really be dead? This was a nightmare!

  Hunter’s body sat up, the abrupt motion drawing Cole’s eye.

  “She’s gone,” Hunter said urgently. “Bring her body. I’ll grab Jace.”

  “Wait, how are you back?” Cole asked, looking to Jace, Joe, and Mira, wanting to see them stir. “What about them?”

  “Nandavi didn’t steal my lifespark,” Hunter said. “I crossed over on my own and stayed free. They’re stuck there. Hurry.”

  Hunter rushed to Jace, reached under his arms, and started pulling. Cole seized Mira the same way and walked backward, her legs dragging. He kept his head turned to monitor where he was going, which carried the benefit of letting him avoid looking at her.

  But it was impossible not to feel her limp weight. Cole tried not to think. He was carrying Mira. She was not breathing. And it was his fault.

  Hunter was moving faster. Cole managed to speed up a little but couldn’t keep pace.

  “What did you do?” Cole called, his words dampened by the oppressive atmosphere of Gamat Rue.

  “I crossed over to the echolands,” Hunter said.

  “Was that when you collapsed?” Cole asked.

  “Yeah,” Hunter said, hauling Jace around a damaged fortification. “After a minute, I tried what the toothless old echo did. I brought my echo to the material world. I used the crossbow and chased your echo friend.”

  “Sando,” Cole said, guilt writhing in his gut, shame tearing at him. “The echo is named Sando.” His lips now spoke the name without difficulty. Arrangement fulfilled, Cole supposed.

  “Yeah, well, when he retreated to the echolands, I went after him, but I wouldn’t have lasted against him and Nandavi, so I returned to my body.”

  Cole focused on Hunter rather than the shifty ruins. They had almost reached the outermost wall.

  “I didn’t know you could do that,” Cole said.

  “Neither did I,” Hunter replied. “First time.” Hunter passed the outermost rampart and raised his voice. “Dalton! Get up here! Bring a horse!”

  CHAPTER

  12

  BODIES

  Cole positioned Mira beside Jace, and Hunter crouched between them, his hands on their foreheads. Hunter bowed his head.

  “Can you help them?” Cole asked.

  “Shhh,” Hunter hissed.

  Cole tried to steady himself. Now that he was beyond the boundaries of Gamat Rue, it seemed like a regular day again. The temperature had warmed up. His voice sounded right. The sunlight had the correct brightness and color.

  His head gently throbbed in sync with his heart. He was out of breath, sweaty, and still trying to shake off the effects of panic and shock. Otherwise, things were back to normal.

  Except for his motionless friends sprawled in the brush.

  “I should be able to keep their bodies stable,” Hunter said finally. “You and Dalton need to get Joe quickly.”

  Dalton was on his way up the slope astride his horse.

  “Wait,” Cole said. “They’re alive?” Could he have been mistaken? Could Mira just be unconscious?

  “They’re in longsleep,” Hunter said. “The body can’t live without the lifespark. But when the lifespark is removed before the death of the physical body, a faint connection remains. If that connection is strengthened by weaving, the body can be preserved. As long as the connection persists, they’re not fully gone. In Necronum, an empty body can survive in stasis while the lifeforce is away. It’s how I left my body to slip into the echolands when Tuto bound us. It’s how mortal weavers visit the echolands without truly dying.”

  “Should I try some CPR?” Cole asked. “Blow in their mouths?”

  “We can’t restore the lifespark that way,” Hunter explained. “The body didn’t die. The spark was removed. But I can keep the bodies from rotting and help maintain the connection to their sparks. The heart barely beats, the lungs barely breathe, but the body can still accept the lifeforce if it returns.”

  “We can still save them?” Cole asked desperately.

  “There’s a chance,” Hunter said.

  “I don’t get how their sparks left.”

  “Nandavi did it,” Hunter said. “She ripped their lifesparks from them. Back home we might say she took their spirits. There was no physical damage. If Sando or Tuto had stabbed them, there might not be a functional body left behind.”

  Dalton reached them, reining in his horse and dismounting.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Ambush,” Cole said. “Tuto turned on us. My echo friend too. Mira, Jace, and Joe are basically dead.”

  “Dead?” Dalton exclaimed.

  “Not completely,” Hunter said. “But we can’t revive them without finding their echoes. You and Cole bring Joe here. We still might be able to save him too. I should stay with these bodies.”

  “All right,” Cole said.

  “Take off the pendants,” Hunter said. “Tuto was using them against us.”

  Feeling angry and stupid, Cole pulled the pendant over his head and tossed it aside. Dalton chucked his in the opposite direction.

  “The Gamat Rue echoes will harass you guys,” Hunter said. “It could get ugly. Don’t agree to anything if they try to communicate. If they become tangible and attack, defend yourselves. Get Joe.”

  Cole and Dalton ran back into Gamat Rue. As soon as he passed the remnant of the outermost wall, Cole found it became much harder to sprint. The air didn’t want to part for him or fill his lungs, and gravity seemed to increase. The disorienting tricks of perspective started to make him feel dizzy. Cole slowed to a quick walk, and Dalton did likewise.

  “Everything feels off,” Dalton said, the words weirdly muffled.

  “This place is wrong,” Cole said. “Let’s get Joe and get out.”

  Cole ground his teeth. This was an emergency! Why was he walking? In defiance of the sluggish atmosphere, Cole upped his pace to a jog, and Dalton matched him.

  The barren circle soon came into view. Sando looked tangible again, kneeling beside Tuto. The beggar looked over his shoulder
and saw Cole, then rose, knife in hand. Blood dripped from the blade.

  Cole drew his Jumping Sword and rushed toward the echo. Dalton brandished his short sword. Sando glanced at Joe’s fallen form, then disappeared.

  Tuto still had the arrow in his chest, but he was no longer wheezing. He lay still, his throat cut.

  “Did he . . . ?” Dalton asked.

  “Looks like it,” Cole said. “Sando probably wanted to hurry Tuto to the echolands. Joe looks untouched. Grab a leg.”

  Keeping his sword out, Cole gripped Joe by one ankle and Dalton grabbed the other. They pulled him as quickly as they could manage.

  “Going so soon?” asked Sando.

  Glancing up, Cole saw that the beggar had reappeared in the barren circle. Cole scowled. Why did the echo’s voice carry so well here when everyone else sounded far away?

  “Keep going,” Cole grumbled to Dalton.

  “I have Miracle, you know,” Sando said. “Reborn as an echo. Along with Jace and the fellow you’re dragging.”

  “Congratulations,” Cole yelled, pulling as hard as he could.

  “Perhaps we could discuss—”

  “No deals!” Cole shouted.

  “You really should—”

  Cole dropped Joe’s ankle, spun, pointed his sword at Sando, and cried, “Away!”

  The sword did not pull him forward. He hadn’t felt his power, but he had so desperately wanted it to work that he thought maybe it might.

  Sando chuckled through a grin. “You have some fire in you, young sir. I see why you amuse Nazeem. But that power of yours is a disaster. I could take a closer look if you wish. Make some recommendations?”

  Cole took hold of Joe’s ankle again and continued pulling. The beggar made no move to give chase. As Cole and Dalton progressed, a broken wall blocked Sando from view.

  “You keep that body,” Sando said, no longer visible but his voice still plenty loud. “You deserve a souvenir. I will see you soon, maybe. Why pursue what wants to find you?”

  “Want to go get him?” Dalton asked.

  “Yes,” Cole said. “But he’ll just disappear.”