Death Weavers (25 page)

The man gave a little frown. “Many are quite deaf to it, I'm afraid.” Then he smiled and clapped Cole on the shoulder. “But others hear the summons loud and clear. Count yourself fortunate to stand among them. There is an entire wing of Vikings who believe this is their final destination. A rowdy but jovial crowd.”

“Where are you from?” Cole asked.

“I hail from Virginia,” the man answered.

“America?” Cole asked.

“You know it? I had you pegged as a local—Necronum or Elloweer.”

“I came from Arizona.”

The man chuckled. “I've heard of it, though it was not a state in my day. To think our modest colonies expanded from ocean to ocean! You will find folk from various worlds here. The echolands are a crossroads.” Hamilton tipped his hat forward and wandered off.

Cole watched him walk away. How long had that guy been here? Since Colonial times? Cole wanted to ask more questions, but Hamilton seemed to be on his way somewhere.

Cole started roaming. All the rooms were beautiful. Many were enormous. The more Cole paid attention, the more he found little rooms and yards hidden here and there. Most rooms had sparse furnishings, but some of the smaller ones were cozier. Many rooms had tables set out with fruit and vegetables on them. Cole found greenhouses and lush, open-air courtyards.

The diversity of echoes continued to impress. Cole could have been behind the scenes at a movie studio where a variety of period films were simultaneously in production. Rugged mountain men chatted with Romans in togas. Primitively dressed tribesmen walked alongside military nurses. Some outfits looked completely foreign. A few echoes had the heads of wolves or cats.

Down one hall Cole spotted a short echo with grasshopper legs and translucent wings. Thinking of Twitch, Cole ran to catch up.

“Excuse me,” Cole said when he got close.

The slender man turned. “What is it?” He sounded defensive.

“You're one of the grinaldi!”

The man blinked. “Are you also from the Ellowine wetlands?”

“No, but I'm friends with one of your people. Twitch.”

The man appeared thoughtful. “I'm not familiar with the name. Might be from before my time. I died a short while ago in the Battle of Kasori.”

“When the swamp people took over?” Cole asked.

“No, lad, when the Halfknight helped us reclaim our villages.”

“Wait,” Cole said. “You met the Halfknight? Then you must have met Twitch. He would have brought the Halfknight to Kasori. I was with him when he met Minimus.”

Realization dawned on the man's face. “You mean Ruben,” he said. “Twitch must be a nickname.”

“That's right,” Cole said. “He got Twitch from the Sky Raiders.”

The man shook Cole's hand. “I'm Zig. Any friend of Ruben's is a friend of mine. He and Minimus saved us!”

“Tell me what happened,” Cole said eagerly. “I never heard.”

Zig smiled warmly. “It was beautiful. You've heard of Renford and the swamp folk?”

“The basics,” Cole said. “They defeated your champions, took over your villages, and managed them poorly.”

“It was a grim day when that scoundrel came to town,” Zig mourned. “He and his lot kept inventing new ways to degrade our community. Good fields went to waste, productive livestock were mismanaged, stores we had built up over years were raided, and our people were basically enslaved. It was horrible.”

“But Twitch came. I mean Ruben.”

“Twitch will serve, if that's how you know him. He shows up unannounced one day with a tiny knight claiming to be the champion of Wenachi, the one grinaldi village too remote to earn the attention of the swamp folk. The grinaldi are not large in stature, but this knight in full armor was at least a head shorter than all but our children. Imagine our surprise when he marches up to Renford and challenges him for the championship.”

“Renford was champion of all your neighboring villages,” Cole recalled. “If Minimus beat him, you were all free.”

“Aye, that was the notion,” Zig said. “I heard Renford talking before the duel. He didn't like the high quality of the Halfknight's armor. His own equipment was mismatched and incomplete. But he was confident that his size would take the day. Was he ever wrong!”

“Minimus won?” Cole asked.

“Handily! The fight ended almost before it began. Quick and bloody. Renford hardly knew what hit him. It was almost enough to make a man pity the brute.”

“You mentioned a battle,” Cole said.

Zig gave an uneasy chuckle. “The swamp folk had made themselves quite comfortable. They weren't ready to quit the good life over trifles like fair play and honor. Renford's cousin immediately challenged Minimus to a duel.”

“That was against the rules,” Cole said.

“You bet it was!” Zig exclaimed. “Since Renford justified his first challenge by claiming to be champion of the swamp folk, Minimus had not only won control of our villages but was champion of the swampies as well.”

“Did Minimus accept the challenge?”

“The little knight dispatched the challenger as swiftly as he killed his cousin,” Zig said with a giggle. “As the Halfknight wiped the gore from his sword, he invited other challengers to apply. The silence was deafening. With their two top fighters dead in the mud, bested without inconvenience, nobody was in a rush to volunteer.”

“I can imagine,” Cole said. “I've seen Minimus in action.”

“When nobody stepped up, Minimus ordered them to return to the swamp and to never again set foot on grinaldi property. Some of the older ones conferred, and then they all attacked.”

“You were right,” Cole said angrily. “No honor.”

“Most of them rushed Minimus,” Zig said. “They would have had better luck leaping into the mouth of a volcano. All who charged him were just lining up for the slaughter. There was a terrible beauty to it—that tiny knight tirelessly carving up so many villains twice his size. Of course, not every swampie went for Minimus. Some attacked the nearest grinaldi.”

“Is that how you got killed?” Cole asked.

“We hopped away at first, mostly avoiding them. Twitch rallied us. He charged into battle boldly, cutting down Renford's younger brother. With Minimus dispatching them so readily, they were distracted and off-balance. We wiped them out. Three of the grinaldi fell, and a half dozen were wounded. Renford's father got me from behind with a hoe.”

Cole winced. “I'm sorry.”

Zig shook his head. “Don't be. I was avenged many times over. It was a glorious day. We worked for generations to build those communities. The swamp folk had stolen everything. We had no hope for the future. But we got it back. My wife and children will have the lives I hoped for them.”

That pricked Cole's heart. “You're a good man.”

Zig smiled, eyes twinkling. “I must have done my part if they let me in here. I didn't die immediately. I lived to get word that Minimus had purged the other villages of any lingering swampies. Your friend Twitch survived without a scratch. There was no hope in sight, lad, then all of a sudden the world was set aright. Goes to show you—never give up.”

“I guess it does,” Cole said.

“I would have rather lived,” Zig said wistfully. “I had plenty of good years left in me. But what we were doing before Minimus came to our rescue was not living. Given that we drove the swamp folk away, I wouldn't change a thing.” He looked around. “I had no suspicion that a place like this might await me.”

“It's amazing,” Cole agreed.

Zig looked Cole up and down. “You've got a glow to you, lad. You in love or something?”

Cole laughed. “My body isn't dead yet.”

“You're fooling me,” Zig cried. “Then how are you here?”

“It's part of the weaving they do in Necronum,” Cole said.

“I never heard of such a thing,” Zig said. “Nor have I seen an echo with your particular . . . sheen. But I'm new here. Plenty to learn.”

“Thanks for telling me about Twitch,” Cole said. “I'm sorry you got killed.”

Zig waved it off. “Don't mourn for me. The rest of my kin will be along in due time. It's the one certainty. We're all headed this way sooner or later. It's not so intimidating once it happens.”

“I'll see you around.”

Zig gave a little bow and moved on.

Folding his arms, Cole leaned up against a wall. It was good to hear that Twitch had succeeded in his quest to save his people. Just knowing his friend was out there someplace, having achieved what once seemed like an impossible goal, gave Cole hope and motivation.

The Hall of Glory was a big place full of diverse people. Surely he could find somebody to steer him in the right direction.

18

A
s Cole continued to wander, he began to realize that bright echoes must not visit the Hall of Glory very often. Not only did he get a lot of stares, but several echoes approached to ask his business. He stuck with his story of being a messenger and fished for information about where he could find the Hundred Forests. None of the echoes who approached him knew the geography of the echolands well enough to help.

While strolling past a glass wall that looked out on a modest orchard, Cole noticed a man with bushy gray sideburns roaming the grassy area. Not immediately seeing a way into the courtyard, Cole rapped on the window until he caught the man's attention. It was Durny—the old shaper who had bought him for the Sky Raiders and who had protected Mira until getting killed by an enormous spider at the proving grounds.

When he recognized Cole, Durny first looked stunned, then delighted. He gestured to the right and hustled that way himself. Durny had lost his limp but wore the same shirt, jacket, and trousers from the day he died.

“Look at you!” Durny exclaimed when they met at the door. He stepped inside, shook one of Cole's hands with both of his, then pulled him into a hug. “We meet again! You're bright, aren't you?”

“Yeah,” Cole said. “Still alive.”

“How is Mira?”

Cole looked around. “Can we talk here?”

“Come into the courtyard,” Durny said, leading Cole under the shade of the fruit trees. “This entire compound is shielded from outside scrutiny, but out here we won't risk other guests of the hall eavesdropping.”

“Mira's in the echolands,” Cole said. “Not dead. Her body is in longsleep. An echo captured her.”

“Oh no. What about her power?”

“She got it back.”

“Outstanding,” Durny enthused. “That could not have been easy. But now she's in trouble. You're looking for her?”

“And her sister Destiny,” Cole said.

Durny placed a hand on Cole's shoulder. “I'm deeply impressed, Cole. You promised me you would take care of her. You've clearly taken that vow seriously.”

“I'm trying,” Cole said. “Honor is somewhere in the echolands too.”

Durny gave a slow nod. “Three of the five trapped in the afterlife.”

“I want to save them,” Cole said. “Last we knew, Destiny was heading to a place called Deepwell in the Hundred Forests. I'm trying to get there, but I'm on my own.”

Durny rubbed his chin. “I don't know the lay of the land here. Some in the Hall of Glory could help us. Most are more familiar with places besides the echolands.”

“How come?”

“When I died, I found myself traveling along a white, misty passage. From off to one side I heard this bombastic music. Following it, I entered the echolands near the Hall of Glory, and the bombast lured me inside. I haven't left. The vast majority of those who come to the Hall of Glory make their way directly here and never depart to explore. Word has it this is the safest, most comfortable haven in the echolands. For those who decide to move on, there is a channel nearby. Tell me all you know about Miracle and her sisters.”