Death Weavers (13 page)

Joe encouraged his mount to a trot. The others followed suit. The echo watched them ride away before turning back to the grove of trees. Cole glanced back a couple of times until he could no longer see the silvery shimmer.

Looking up, Cole noticed that the written message was gone from the sky. He mentioned it to Mira.

“Mother knows we check every night,” Mira said. “I don't expect we'll get any more notes from her that way.”

They passed more echoes as they neared Rincomere. Cole did his best not to stare, but it was hard not to sneak peeks. An older woman. Two middle-aged men. A child. Cole rode behind Jace and noticed that his friend never turned his head toward any of the apparitions.

A four-foot-high stone wall surrounded Rincomere—the perfect defense against a horde of raging turtles. If the attack ever came, Cole supposed the reptiles would enter along the road, since there was no gate.

The Shiver Moon hung high and the stars shone brightly as Cole and his group rode into the village. The streets were far busier than Cole had seen them during the day. All the people glowed a translucent silver white. So many echoes were strolling around and conversing that Cole wondered if anyone in Rincomere had ever left after they died.

“Go straight to the inn,” Hunter advised from the rear.

Joe stayed at a trot, occasionally passing through echoes as he led the way along the crowded street. Cole made eye contact with several individuals but tried to keep his gaze moving. Their little procession attracted some attention but not the full notice of the crowd. Many echoes went about their business with hardly a glance at the riders.

Cole ended up riding beside Dalton.

His buddy leaned toward Cole and spoke in a loud whisper. “
This
would be a cool Halloween.”

Cole chuckled, taking in the ghostly sights. “We finally got our awesome spook alley.”

“Not worth it,” Dalton said. “We should have bobbed for apples.”

“Pretty cool, though,” Cole said, staring at a silvery woman holding the hand of a translucent child.

“Way cool,” Dalton agreed.

Joe dismounted in the modest courtyard of the Lollygag Inn. An obese echo relaxed on a bench in the yard, stroking his heavy mustache. Cole and the others led their horses to the stable. A dozing stableboy jumped up and offered to help them find stalls. Joe handed the boy some ringers.

Linger at the stable.
The words entered Cole's mind without him hearing them. It was undoubtedly Sando.
Don't explain. Just linger.

Cole offered to help with the horses. Dalton spoke up as well. Jace was the first of the group into the inn.

Each leading a pair of horses, the stableboy, Cole, and Dalton got the mounts settled into stalls. “I'll take it from here,” the stableboy said.

“I'll help, if you don't mind,” Cole said. “I need to unwind.”

“Up to you,” the stableboy said.

“Aren't you tired?” Dalton asked.

Cole was exhausted. Keeping his eyes open was starting to make them burn. He was hungry, even though he had grabbed some food from the saddlebags during the ride from the Cave of Memory. He was sore.

“I'm okay,” Cole lied. “It's been a weird day. I could use some time to think.”

“Can't you think in your room?” Dalton asked, glancing toward the stable entrance. “Lots of echoes out tonight.”

“I want to be doing something,” Cole said. “I'm good. I'll be right behind you.”

“Okay,” Dalton said reluctantly. “See you in there.”

Cole started undoing his horse's saddle. Dalton was right to encourage him inside. A warm meal sounded heavenly. Who would want to unsaddle their horse after a long day when somebody else had been paid to do it? Especially after so much travel.

Go out to the yard,
Sando communicated.

Cole pulled the saddle off and set it aside. “I changed my mind,” he told the stableboy. “I'm tired.”

“I can't blame you,” the stableboy said. “Good night.”

Cole went out to the yard. He was alone except for the obese echo on the bench.

Out to the street and left.

Wondering where Sando was leading him, Cole followed the instructions. There were no regular people on the street but dozens of echoes. A tall woman with curly ringlets stared at Cole from behind a fan as she walked by.

Now left down the alley.

Cole paused. The gap between buildings was hardly an alley. He wasn't sure if he would fit without turning a little sideways.

Yes, young sir. That's where I mean.

Leading with one shoulder, Cole entered the gap, dirt and pebbles grinding underfoot. As Cole progressed, he heard squeaking up ahead. He paused, not eager to end the night with rat bites.

Keep coming, young sir. All is well.

“Then why do we need to talk,” Cole muttered.

A convenient opportunity, giver of silver. A pleasant moon smiles down. And I have some tidings.

Cole continued forward. The narrow alley intersected another gap between buildings, and Cole found Sando around the corner, seated, his body translucent silver, his hat mostly hiding his face.

“That hat is almost an umbrella,” Cole said.

Sando looked up, eyes crinkling as he smiled. “Quite so, young sir. You had some success at the Cave of Memory.”

“I guess you would know,” Cole said.

“Yes, I do,” Sando agreed. “I prefer for my tips to deliver results. I could not sense you while you were inside the cave, but I heard what you shared with your friends afterward.” He shook his head and his expression grew serious. “Gamat Rue is no place to visit. Mortals should stay away. Echoes too.”

“We have to go there,” Cole said.

“So I gather,” Sando said. “Be wary. There are a few places where echoes can directly harm mortals. Gamat Rue is one.”

“Can we protect ourselves?” Cole asked.

“Easy,” Sando said, grinning toothlessly. “Don't go there.”

“And if we have to go?”

“Send somebody else.”

“Are you volunteering?” Cole asked.

Sando laughed. “You are funny tonight, young sir. I am no adventurer.”

“Thanks for the help back at the other inn,” Cole said.

“Thank the horse,” Sando said.

“Did you send it?” Cole asked.

Sando snickered. “I did not directly control the animal, if that is what you mean. Did I play a role in the mare being there? Yes, indirectly. I have news.”

“You want me to give away the ringer?”

“In due time. Other news.”

“Don't tell me we have to run again,” Cole said, unsure if he could endure another night in the saddle.

“Not yet,” Sando said. “If you were less tired, perhaps. Enforcers are coming. Rest tonight. Start early. There is a little-known trail that leads into the hills. It will keep you out of sight and serve as a shortcut if you intend to visit Gamat Rue.”

“How do I find it?”

“I will guide you in the morning. Just keep the ringer in your pocket, young sir.”

“What if they have a perceptive?”

“These do not,” Sando said, head bobbing. “A prudent concern, though.”

“How do I reach you if I need you?” Cole asked.

Sando made a sour face and scrubbed his hands together. “This would be difficult for you, young sir. You are no weaver. If we must talk, I will contact you. It is no small feat, but I will. The ringer helps. The Enforcers will arrive tomorrow afternoon. Depart long before then.”

“We will,” Cole said.

“Sleep well,” Sando said.

“Any tips on Gamat Rue?”

“Only the one, young sir. Don't go. Some places are best left alone.”

“Could the girl we're looking for be there?” Cole asked.

“If she went there, she could certainly still be there,” Sando said. “But I know of few foolhardy enough to go after her.”

“You know me,” Cole said.

“Not for long, maybe,” Sando said. “I will try to label you brave instead of foolish. But honesty is always a consideration.”

“I'll tell the others about your warning,” Cole said.

“Multiple warnings,” Sando replied. “Go rest.”

Cole hurried back the way he had come and caught up with the others just as the food was arriving. Day-old bread and oily stew never tasted so good.

10

S
ando's trail was very well hidden. It didn't connect to any road. As the sun came up, Cole led the others into a pathless forest and over a couple of ridges before finding the trailhead near a large pond.

As promised, young sir,
Sando spoke to Cole's mind.
One last time, I ask you to reconsider your destination.

“This is it,” Cole said.

“Good,” Hunter said. “This route is sneaky.” He climbed down from his horse and unbundled some rolled blankets. “I did some buying in the small hours. There are ways to get shops to open.”

“Were you pretending to still be an Enforcer?” Dalton asked.

“I'm not sure I have to pretend. I haven't been discharged. I wore a disguise.” He handed Joe a sword in a sheath, then gave Jace a crossbow and a small quiver with six quarrels. Dalton received a short sword, and Hunter strapped on a sword of his own. “Considering how I got these weapons, I didn't want to show them on the way out of town. We should be fine now.”

“These don't happen to work on echoes?” Jace asked, aiming his crossbow at a tree.

“That would be nice,” Hunter said. “I expect they'll prove more useful against Enforcers and legionnaires. Do you know how to use it?”

“The basics,” Jace said. “I practiced with one like it at the Sky Raiders.”

“Cole and Mira already have their Jumping Swords,” Hunter said. “No need to turn them into walking armories.”

“Riding, not walking, thank goodness,” Mira said.

Cole rubbed the hilt of his Jumping Sword. It had a good blade, but its real value was dormant in Necronum unless he could get his power back. As he reached for his ability, he felt no glimmer of it.

“My echo friend told me the ride should take about five days,” Cole said. “The trail ends like it starts—without connecting to a road. But if we continue straight past the end, we'll reach roads that connect to a town called Houndsborough. I guess it isn't far from there to Gamat Rue.”

“We could last comfortably for a week on our provisions,” Hunter said. “Let's ride.”

Cole spent the day glancing back, especially whenever they crested a rise and a view spread out behind them, but he never saw pursuers. The deeper they journeyed into the forested hills, the calmer he became. Sometimes he slipped a hand into his pocket, but he received no further communication from Sando, which hopefully meant they got away clean.

That evening after making camp, Cole went with Mira to refill their flasks from a stream. He had been waiting for a chance to talk to her alone. She chose a spot where the water flowed swiftly. She knelt beside the stream in the fading light. Deep circles stood out under her eyes.

“Long day,” Cole said.

“It doesn't stop,” she said, her voice a little numb. “We scramble from one danger to another. It's all we do. You're crazy for staying with me.”

“Don't worry about us,” Cole said. “You have enough stress.”

She paused and looked at Cole. “Have you ever been to the seashore?”

“Yeah,” Cole said. “A couple of times.”

“Once, I was at the beach, and I swam out to play in the waves. It was fun. I was a few years younger than I am now, so it was a very long time ago. I would duck the waves, or go over them, or brace myself and let them break against me. Until a big one got me. Playtime ended immediately. It had full control, holding me under and shaking me. And that wasn't the worst of it. The wave was the first in a series. I got my head above water to take a breath as another one was breaking. It was relentless. I tumbled blindly. Salt water burned in my nostrils. I couldn't breathe. I felt like I had no control over my body. I couldn't influence the outcome. I kept struggling mostly by instinct, but at some level I knew it was just a matter of time. I was going to die.”