Death Weavers (18 page)

“He's right,” Hunter said.

“Should I even go after Jenna?” Dalton asked.

“I think you should at least make contact,” Cole said. “She deserves to know she isn't forgotten. You can see how well she's doing there and play it by ear.”

“We'll see,” Dalton said. “First things first. We'll take care of the bodies, then follow you to the temple.”

Cole gave Dalton a hug. “Be safe. See you soon.”

“Don't jinx us,” Dalton said. “Die bravely.”

Cole gave a nod, not trusting his voice.

Hunter rose and hugged him.

“You were awesome today,” Cole said. “You saved us.”

“You're awesome too,” Hunter said. “We've got this. Go find Tessa.”

Cole let go of his brother and ran down the slope toward the horses. He tried not to think about the bodies of his friends. It felt good to be moving. For now he could concentrate on getting to the temple and pretend he could outrun all that had happened today.

13

D
espite having plenty of money, Cole slept on the ground and ate mostly from his provisions while traveling to the Temple of the Robust Sky. The practice freed him to stop for the night just about wherever he desired, whether or not a city was near. It also allowed him to avoid drawing attention by staying at an inn alone at his young age.

He could have made up excuses to pay for a room, but he wasn't in the mood to be around people and didn't particularly want to be comfortable. His best friends were on the brink of death. What right did he have to a soft bed and warm food? Better to get in some extra miles and hopefully make it to the temple in three days instead of four.

Throughout his lonely journey, Cole fought to ignore a host of questions. He did his best to concentrate on riding, caring for his horse, and preparing simple meals. He tried to look ahead to how he would find Tessa.

But the questions persistently leaked through his defenses. Why had he made that bargain with Sando? After accepting the deal, why hadn't he departed from the group? Why hadn't he seen the tragedy coming? Why had they trusted Tuto? Why had so many of them entered Gamat Rue? Why hadn't they at least insisted on Mira staying behind? Why had Jace and Joe volunteered to die?

He wished he could go back and make different choices. Destiny and Honor had tried to warn him! Even Sando and Tuto had offered clues! Why hadn't he seen the signs?

At his most rational, Cole knew he couldn't change what had happened. But it was hard to stay sensible. He spent long stretches of his ride stewing over the fatal mistakes that had culminated at Gamat Rue.

The Temple of the Robust Sky came into view on the third evening after leaving the ruined prison. Spired buildings loomed atop a terraced ridge, with staircases descending to numerous gardens and smaller structures at lower elevations. A dark gray wall around the base of the modified ridge enclosed the massive complex.

Cole reached a large gate in the wall as the last embers of sunset dwindled on the horizon. The great doors stood open, but a pair of uniformed guards asked him to halt.

“Can I come in?” Cole asked.

“Riding alone?” one of the guards inquired, a bald man with a tiny mustache.

“I'm catching up to my parents,” Cole said, hoping the lie would help avoid further questions.

“Then I expect they already made your donation,” the guard said. “You're staying the night?”

“I think so,” Cole said. “I'm not sure where to go.”

“You would be in the family dormitories,” the guard said. “North side of the temple grounds, lowest level. Your first stop should be the north stable.”

“Thanks,” Cole said.

“Proceed.” The guard waved him forward.

Cole rode through the gateway, feeling quietly pleased. He was getting better at acting casual. Jace would approve. Cole tried not to picture his friend's lifeless body sprawled on the hillside. Too late. The image took center stage in his mind.

Cole knew he needed to emphasize the positive. Jace was an echo someplace, probably trapped, but not completely gone. There was a chance he could be restored to life.

Night deepened as Cole made his way around the long ridge toward the north side. Light seeped from windows and glowed from street lanterns, all of it dim.

Cole needed answers. What made a temple different from a shrine? This one clearly had more buildings. Could some of the people he saw be echoes? Or did that only happen in certain areas? What did it take to access the top of the ridge? Those buildings were the largest and looked the most official. How late could he go up there? Figures were still visible on the stairways and roaming the terraces.

And of course the big question for now—how could he get in front of the prelate?

Cole reached the north stable and paid to have his horse kept there for a week. The stablehand, a lanky fellow with crooked teeth, seemed friendly enough, so Cole tried to mine some information.

“This is my first time here,” Cole mentioned after paying the man. “How late is everything open?”

“Don't you know?” the stablehand replied with a chuckle. “This is the only temple open all hours. It's hard to stargaze in the day or watch the sun and clouds at night.”

Cole nodded. The temple was named for the sky. And it covered a tall ridge. People used it like an observatory. “Is it hard to meet the prelate?”

“Elana Parson? What do you think? She oversees the whole temple. Unless she's giving a speech on a holiday, not many people see her besides the clerics.”

“Makes sense,” Cole said, a plan already forming. “Do you know where I could find writing supplies?”

After hearing the answer, Cole rushed off.

*  *  *

Night had fully fallen by the time Cole climbed the stairs, a rolled message in his hand. Addressed to the Honorable Prelate of the Temple of the Robust Sky, the missive was sealed with wax bearing the imprint of the royal seal he had taken from Mira.

When Cole finally reached the ridgetop, the muscles in his legs burned. He turned, pausing to enjoy the view. From the high vantage, the horizon seemed low, opening up an unobstructed panorama of blazing stars. No moon had risen, and the dim lanterns used throughout the temple grounds created little light pollution. Not only did uncountable stars of varying brightness gleam in diverse shades, but even the luminous clouds of nebulae and the swirly smudges of galaxies stood out against the unfathomable blackness.

Cole lingered. The staggering view made him feel small and large at the same time—small because of the vastness represented by the spectacle, large because at the present moment, it was all on display for him, as if he had found the aquarium that held the universe.

“Keep moving, please,” a voice prompted from behind him.

“Sorry,” Cole said, turning. “It's just so spectacular.”

He now faced a man in a dark robe with short blond hair. “No quarrel on that point,” the man said. “But the walkways are for traveling. We have many viewing areas for stargazing.”

“Maybe you can help me,” Cole said. “I'm new here, and I have a message for the prelate.” He held up the rolled missive but didn't offer it for examination.

The man held out a hand. “I can see that it finds her.”

“Sorry,” Cole said. “I'm a royal errand boy, and this carries the royal seal. I'm under orders to personally deliver it.”

The man heaved a sigh that conveyed the absurdity of protocols. “Very well. Come with me. I'll introduce you to Ingrid. She has access to the prelate. No promises that you can gain audience this evening.”

“As long as the prelate knows that the message came a long way,” Cole said. “And that the Crown considers it a high priority.”

The man gestured for Cole to follow. Cole felt he had sounded official. His brief time spent as an actual royal errand boy had given him some lingo to draw from and knowledge of certain procedures. He had an explanation ready for why he wasn't dressed in livery, but since the subject didn't come up, he didn't want to oversell his cover story.

Some of the buildings atop the ridge had no roofs. Many featured porches and balconies where people gathered to gaze heavenward.

“This is beautiful,” Cole commented as they walked along.

“If you appreciate the sky, before you depart, try to take in the view from the Tower of Eternity. Many viewing areas offer generous vistas in certain directions, but only from the summit of the tower is the fullness of the firmament exposed no matter where you turn.”

“Sounds incredible,” Cole said sincerely.

“Normally, an appointment is required, but if the prelate appreciates your message, Ingrid could make arrangements.”

They found Ingrid inside a brightly lit, windowless room within one of the larger buildings. Her brown hair was pulled back in a small, tight bun, and she wore dark robes like her colleague. Outside, Cole had thought the material was black, but now he could see it was a very dark blue.

“May I inspect the seal?” Ingrid asked after Cole explained his intention.

Cole handed over the rolled message. She took a close look.

“This comes from the High King, you say?”

“It's either his seal or his chamberlain's, I think,” Cole said. Actually, he wasn't sure if Mira's seal was the same as the High King's or anybody else's, so he was trying to be vague.

“We seldom get direct messages from the High Shaper,” Ingrid said. “I suppose the prelate will want to see it.”

Cole held out his hand, and Ingrid returned the message. “Wait here.” She left the room.

“May I be excused?” the man asked. “I have duties elsewhere.”

“Sure,” Cole said.

Cole waited alone for several minutes before Ingrid returned. She gave him a nod. “This way.”

Ingrid led him down some hallways with intricate carvings on the walls and stopped in front of a large door made from dark red wood. After knocking briefly, Ingrid opened it.

They stepped through the doorway into a sizable residence. The ceiling, walls, and floors were composed of dark gray stone, brightened by patterned rugs and tapestries. Some of the tables and chairs incorporated the same dark red wood as the door.

A woman sat regally in a high-backed chair facing the door. She looked stern, and a little defiant, with streaks of silver in her wavy black hair. Cole guessed she was a little older than his mom.

“Pardon the interruption, Madam Prelate,” Ingrid said. “This errand boy claims to bear a message from the High Shaper.”

“You may approach,” Elana said.

Cole noticed from the imprints on the rug that the chair had been recently repositioned. The prelate must have wanted it to feel more like he was entering a throne room. He crossed to Elana and handed her the rolled message. She inspected the seal, then stared at him.

“I'm supposed to watch you read it,” Cole said.

The prelate broke the seal and unrolled the message. Cole couldn't see the words, but he knew what he had written.

Dear Prelate Elana,

On my honor, I am looking for my destiny. The seal is royal, but not from the person you might think. It's a miracle I'm here. Could we please speak in private? I have news, and I need information.

Many thanks,

Cole

He had done his best to communicate indirectly in case somebody intercepted the note. But he had also wanted to make sure she would understand what he meant. He watched her scan the words.

Elana looked up from the message, her eyes first fixing on Cole, then Ingrid.

“I wish to interview this messenger in private,” Elana said.

“As you will,” Ingrid said, withdrawing from the room.

Elana's eyes softened. “You poor boy. I'm sorry for the cold reception. The High Shaper is not a favorite of mine. I try to turn a brave face in his direction. Who are you?”