Death Weavers Read online

  “Hank’ll want to see me, sure. But I’m afraid I won’t be good company. Might be best to meet up in the Other. I wouldn’t mind seeing how Ainsley is getting on.”

  Cole wasn’t sure what to tell him.

  “Know what, Bryant? You go on ahead. Being in town makes me itchy of late. I’m going to sit a spell.”

  Cole hesitated. “What about—”

  Clint held up a hand. “I’m not saying I’m going for a swim. I make no pledge that I won’t, either.” He sat down on the grass, knees bent. “I just want to turn a few things over in my mind. You did a good deed. I was lost in the homesong, sure enough. You pulled me back in case I wasn’t in my right mind. I thank you for the courtesy. People move on from this place all the time, son. You did your part. Run on ahead now.”

  Cole still wasn’t certain what to do. “Are you sure?”

  Clint gave a small smile. “You’re very new here. Make every stranger with an ear for the homesong your burden, and that message may never get delivered. I’m in my right mind. No trance. I have no current plan to ride the channel. I just need to sit a spell. Maybe I’ll listen a bit and head back to town. I’ve done it before.”

  “All right,” Cole said.

  “Head between those hills,” Clint said, extending an arm. “Can’t miss it.”

  Looking that way, Cole heard hints of new music. “Okay. Bye.”

  Clint gave an acknowledging grunt.

  Cole started walking. He checked over his shoulder a few times. Clint still sat there, hands on his knees, gazing out over the channel.

  As Cole went up the shoulder of the hill, he glanced back again to see Clint stepping up onto the railing of the bridge. He must have started moving just after Cole last glanced back. The distance made the man less than an inch high. Panicked, Cole considered the distance. Was there any chance he could make it back in time?

  “Clint!” Cole called.

  Eyes on the slipstream, Clint lifted his arms above his head.

  Cole dashed toward the bridge.

  Clint toppled forward into the ether. When he hit the surface, a brief, yearning melody tugged at Cole’s heart. Then the tune was gone.

  Clint’s body rushed along the channel at a good pace, but not as quickly as the slipstream seemed to flow. Still, there was no chance of catching up to him from where Cole stood. Clint wasn’t struggling. In a few moments the man passed out of view.

  Cole stared at the channel, an empty feeling in his gut. Should he have tried to drag Clint back to town? How could he have done it? Clint was a lot bigger than him. And he had acted intent on staying.

  Cole reminded himself that Clint was already dead. Who knew how long he had been in the echolands? He probably missed his wife.

  One thing Cole now knew for sure—the call of the Other was real and deadly. He might not hear it yet, but he would need to keep his guard up. There was a lot of living he hoped to do before leaping into a slipstream.

  CHAPTER

  16

  FOLLOWED

  Golden ivy smothered the houses in the little town, and bright gardens bloomed on the rooftops. The playful, welcoming music set Cole at ease. If the music could be trusted, he figured this should be a good place to ask for directions.

  Narrow roads crisscrossed the town. The people on the streets meandered and conversed. Nobody drove a cart or manned a stand or carried a load or hammered a nail.

  It didn’t take long for Cole to notice a sizable crowd around one of the larger homes. He went to see what was happening.

  At the edge of the crowd a balding man with a bulbous nose and a saggy gut came up to Cole. “What’s your interest, tourist?” he accused.

  “Just curious,” Cole said, keeping his tone light and friendly. “What’s going on?”

  The man folded his arms. “Fun to come see the real echoes in action?”

  “Lay off, Stu,” a woman scolded. “He’s a kid.”

  “All the more reason he belongs back in the real world,” Stu said.

  “The echolands are just as real,” the woman said.

  A cheer went up from the group.

  “What happened?” Cole asked the woman.

  “A fellow just crossed over,” she said.

  “To stay,” Stu grumbled. “Not a vacation.”

  “Hank?” Cole asked.

  “I think that was the name,” the woman said.

  “Yes,” Stu said. “Hank Groat. How’d you know?”

  Cole winced. “His brother just jumped into the channel.”

  Head pivoting, Stu searched the crowd. “Clint’s not here?”

  “It was Clint,” Cole said.

  Stu gave a scathing laugh. “I bet you loved that! Little tourist gets to watch the echo ride the slipstream?”

  Cole didn’t appreciate his tone. “I found him on the bridge and pulled him back before he went over the side. He told me to go on to town. He insisted. When I looked back, he . . .” Cole found the words too hard to say.

  The woman pushed Stu in the chest. “Shame on you. Look at the boy! He didn’t take it lightly.”

  Cole tried his best not to cry. Echoes might not have blood, but he could feel they had tears. He managed to keep his from spilling down his cheeks.

  Stu heaved a sigh. “Happens sometimes. People take the plunge right before a loved one comes across.”

  “That’s right,” the woman said. “Clint had been dwelling on the homesong for a good while. And his wife went not too long ago.”

  The crowd shifted to accommodate a moving center of attention. Stretching tall, Stu craned to see. “You got me gabbing and now I’m missing the brother.” He shouldered his way closer to the center.

  “How’d you know he was coming?” Cole asked.

  “In a slow death, the music can signal a new arrival well before the end,” the woman said.

  “Why so many people?” Cole asked.

  The woman smiled incredulously. “Why attend a funeral? Or a birthday? We all lived in Weatherby. Friends, relatives, acquaintances. I never knew Hank well, but his sweet mother was a friend, on the other side and here as well. Several boys in that home. Five or six. Don’t know how she did it.”

  “Have you been here long?” Cole asked.

  “Longer than most in town,” the woman said. “The homesong still doesn’t hold much appeal. I’m Nina.”

  “Bryant.”

  “Do you live near Weatherby?”

  “No, I’m passing through.”

  “What prompts a healthy young man to roam the echolands?”

  “I’m a messenger for the Temple of the Robust Sky.”

  “I see,” Nina said. “Is the message for anybody hereabouts?”

  “No,” Cole said. “I’m looking for the Sweet Channel Charnel House, near the Hundred Forests.”

  “Never been friendly with geography, even in Necronum,” Nina said. “Less here. But Lister will know.”

  “Would you introduce me?”

  “Why not? Wait here.”

  She walked away. The crowd was moving down the street, presumably with Hank at the center. Cole couldn’t get a good look at him.

  As he watched the crowd progress along the street, Cole noticed a woman staring at him. She was not older than thirty, with Asian features. She stood off to the side of the group, near the corner of a house. When his eyes met hers, she glanced away and stepped out of view.

  He suddenly felt on edge. Had he caught a jangle of unsettling music? Or were his instincts just warning him that she had glanced away too quickly and slid out of view too smoothly?

  “This is Lister,” Nina said from behind him, making Cole whirl in alarm.

  An older man with a bushy gray mustache stood beside Nina. “Feeling jumpy?” Lister asked.

  “A lady was staring at me,” Cole said.

  “We don’t get many strangers,” Nina said. “Especially not young ones, and especially not tourists. I’m sure more than one person was looking your way.”


  Cole didn’t want to elaborate that something about her had felt suspicious.

  “You’re looking for the Hundred Forests?” Lister asked.

  “And the Sweet Channel Charnel House,” Cole said.

  “You have a long way to go,” Lister said. He pointed. “Leave town going that direction.”

  “Do you travel much?” Cole asked.

  “More than some,” Lister said. “Less than others. You’re new to the echolands?”

  “Pretty new,” Cole admitted.

  “Staying oriented can be a pain,” Lister said. “Helps if you know what to listen for. The sound of the Source, of course, and the direction the channels are flowing. The music of the standard landmarks. Some study of maps doesn’t hurt. It takes time to learn to navigate these parts. Some never get the hang of it.”

  Cole mimicked where Lister had pointed. It was not the way he would have instinctively headed. “That way.”

  “That’s right. Until you gain some experience, listen for towns and keep asking.”

  “Are there many towns?” Cole asked.

  “Enough,” Lister said. “Just don’t hop into any channels or follow unpleasant music. Hunger and exposure can’t touch you here.”

  “Thanks,” Cole said, starting down the street in the general direction Lister had indicated.

  “You’re welcome,” Lister said.

  “Go in peace,” Nina added.

  Cole glanced past them to where the Asian woman had disappeared. He saw no sign of her. But he didn’t think it would be a bad idea to hurry out of town.

  * * *

  Cole glanced back several times after leaving the town. Each time he was greeted by a vacant, beautiful landscape. Could those idyllic shrubs and groves be hiding enemies? The music of the town faded until he could no longer detect it even when he strained.

  Long after he no longer heard the town, Cole looked back and saw a figure coming his way across a long stretch of vivid grass. The sight startled him. It was clearly the Asian woman from the town.

  She didn’t try to hide when he looked her way, so Cole waited for her. She didn’t speed up but came straight toward him.

  “Hello,” Cole said once she was about fifteen paces away. “Why are you following me?”

  “You’re interesting,” the woman said, still closing the distance.

  “Why?” Cole asked. She was now less than ten paces away. He couldn’t sense her music, but Cole didn’t have a good feeling about her.

  “We seldom get travelers,” the woman said. “The echolands can be dull that way.”

  When she was five paces away, Cole set a hand on the hilt of his sword. “That’s close enough.”

  She stopped and grinned. She wore a gray dress topped by a red shawl. “Do you greet everyone while touching your sword?”

  “You were watching me back in town.”

  “You’re a stranger,” she said.

  “So why follow me?”

  Her smile held little warmth. “Maybe I’m lonely.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  The smile faltered. “Where are you going?”

  “I’m a messenger.”

  “With a message that masks your music?” she asked innocently.

  Cole wasn’t sure how to respond.

  “You should come with me,” she said, and Cole caught a hint of chilling music.

  “Who are you?”

  “Call me Keko,” she said. She held out a hand. “Take my hand, and I’ll reveal your fortune.”

  Cole drew his sword. “Leave me alone, lady.”

  Keko pouted. “This is not how to make new friends.”

  Cole felt awkward. Keko appeared to be unarmed and had made no aggressive moves. But he knew she was up to something. “Please leave me alone.”

  “You’re that boy Nazeem wants,” Keko said.

  Cole gave no reply.

  Keko giggled. “It’s all over your face, and it just peeked through in your music. The message is well done, by the way. Excellent weaving. If you want to survive out here, you’re going to need my help.”

  Cole started walking backward. “I’d rather be alone.” He couldn’t ignore the scary impression from when he first noticed her staring at him, or the hint of menacing music he had recently heard and felt.

  “What if I want to go the same way you’re going?” Keko asked, walking to stay near him.

  “I’ll pick a new direction,” Cole said.

  Keko produced a small carved piece of wood about the size of a pencil. “Take this. It will help you on your journey.”

  “No thanks.”

  She tossed it to him, and he knocked it aside with his blade.

  “How rude!” Keko huffed.

  “Stop following me,” Cole said.

  “They’ll nab you without my help.”

  “I bet they’ll catch me even faster with your help. Are you honestly telling me you want to protect me?”

  “From them,” Keko said.

  “Only so you can catch me,” Cole said.

  She gave a little shrug. “I’d love to travel with you.”

  “To Nazeem,” Cole said. “I get it.” He swished his sword through the air a couple of times and backed up some more. “Have you heard the one about the echo with no arms and no legs stranded in the wilderness?”

  Keko stopped walking. Her face contorted in outrage. “Are you threatening me?”

  “Lady, you started it,” Cole said. “Go away.”

  She made complicated gestures and started muttering. Cole heard her chilling music more clearly, and suddenly, his arms wouldn’t move. His feet felt rooted to the ground. He managed to keep holding his sword.

  Fingers making spidery motions, Keko drew closer, chanting under her breath.

  Panic threatened to turn his mind blank. Cole resisted and tried to think. This reminded him of being immobilized at Gamat Rue, except he didn’t feel as tightly held. He could pivot at the waist and move his head and eyes. Most of his muscles could flex to some degree, but his arms and legs remained locked in position.

  Keko was almost close enough to reach out and touch him. His arms trembled. He could feel the invisible hold weakening, his arms and legs twitching a little more with each effort. Growling, he bent his arm at the elbow, and suddenly, he was free. Cole swung his sword at Keko. She lunged away just in time.

  Cole didn’t pursue her. “Do that again and I really will attack.”

  Keko glared at him, panting. “You’re not worth the trouble.”

  She turned and started walking back toward the township. Cole watched her go with mixed feelings. It was a relief that she was leaving, but what if she returned with reinforcements? Should he chase her? What would he do if he caught her?

  “Keko,” Cole called, trotting after her. “Promise me you won’t come after me.”

  “I owe you no pledge,” she said without looking back, and he felt another hint of her unnerving music.

  “But I want one,” Cole said.

  “You go your way. I’ll go mine.”

  He stopped chasing her. He couldn’t chop her with his sword. Not with her walking away. He turned and walked at his fastest pace.

  For the next long while, Cole kept checking behind him, but he saw nobody. The music of the gorgeous landscape eventually helped calm him. Maybe Keko was really gone.

  He didn’t like how she was able to partially freeze him. What had made him vulnerable to her? Had he accidentally made some kind of bargain? Or was that kind of attack just part of life in the echolands?

  Cole had been walking for some time when he noticed ominous music up ahead to the right. It sounded a little discordant and made him feel upset, like after losing an argument he should have won. Cole curved far enough out of the way that he never saw what the music represented, but he was glad to leave it behind. He had encountered enough trouble for one day. Of course, you could cram a lot into a day when it never ended.

  A large hill rose into view as Col
e walked toward it. Covered in waist-high ferns, it didn’t look hard to climb, and Cole thought it might give him a chance to study his surroundings. The summit was easily the highest point in sight.

  The lush ferns on the hill parted easily for him, gently brushing his legs and waist as he plodded upward. The climb required him to be more careful with his footing but didn’t tire him more than anything else.

  When he reached the top, Cole took in the panorama of grassland, flowering fields, stands of trees, and a distant channel crossing his path. Staring back the way he had come, he felt a jolt of panic when he noticed a distant figure following him. As he scanned the area, Cole began to notice other figures—eight total. Two traveled alone. The others moved in pairs. The nearest had to be twenty or thirty minutes away. They were fanned out behind him and off to either side. All were coming his way.

  Cole took off down the far side of the hill at a sprint. Scanning up ahead, he noticed no other people. But additional enemies could be hiding almost anywhere. There was plenty of cover. Halfway down the hillside, Cole tripped and fell flat, sliding a good distance over crushed ferns.

  After scrambling to his feet, Cole kept up his quick pace. He hadn’t run in the echolands before now. He found that though he could remain at a sprint without tiring, his mind became a little foggy, and the music started to sound slightly out of tune.

  Not only was he not panting, but he experimented with holding his breath and found that breathing was still not necessary. He remembered Keko breathing heavily after he broke free of her control. That might have been a response to a different kind of exertion.

  Cole ran into a grove of plum trees and yanked a piece of fruit from a limb without breaking stride. It looked perfect—no wormholes or signs of decay. He hadn’t eaten anything in the echolands yet.

  He bit into the tender, juicy flesh, and flavor flooded into his mouth, accompanied by a surge of exhilarating music. His senses enlivened, Cole took another bite and soon finished the delicious treat.

  By the time he tossed the pit aside, Cole felt largely replenished. His focus was sharp again, and the music sounded clear. He kept running, reminding himself that if he started to feel unfocused again, he would need to eat something.

  Should he have attacked Keko? Maybe. His pursuers were probably working with her. So many were converging that she must have contacted them. And that meant more were probably on the way.