Death Weavers (28 page)

“That's right,” Cole said. “I still hope to make it home.”

“We want to help you,” Drake said.

“Were you and Ferrin friends in Lyrian?” Cole asked.

Ferrin and Drake glanced at each other, as if sharing a joke.

“More like mortal enemies,” Ferrin said. “Seedmen and displacers have never mixed well. But since our deaths, we've come to an understanding. Long story.”

“Some of our other friends came here as well,” Drake said. “There was a war. Many people died bravely. Our friends have all moved on. Ferrin and I were thinking about doing the same. But the prospect of one last adventure beforehand appeals to us.”

“You can count on us,” Ferrin asserted. “Both of us have seen our share of mayhem without losing our heads.” He placed his head back on his neck. “I could use another good deed or two before going onward to whatever comes next.”

“You know it could be dangerous,” Cole said. “Very powerful people are after me. Our echoes could get imprisoned.”

“We know the risks,” Drake said. “We've faced evil before.”

“Some of us may have lived in one of evil's pleasure palaces,” Ferrin said with a crooked smile. “Or even worked for evil directly.”

“Seriously?” Cole asked.

Ferrin shrugged. “Mistakes are how we learn. Drake and I wouldn't be here if we hadn't decided to hold true to what we thought was right. It's what all the echoes here have in common—they were willing to sacrifice for their beliefs. Some were even on opposing sides of the same conflict.”

“But all were striving to help others in some way,” Drake said. “I've investigated. Nobody got here chasing their own interests. It's no refuge for the selfish.”

Cole thought of when he had attacked the cyclops to save Mira. Had that been his ticket into this place? Or maybe his showdowns with Carnag, Morgassa, and Roxie.

“You're wondering how you qualified,” Ferrin said. “I can see it in your eyes. I think everyone here wonders to some degree. I did plenty of terrible things during my life. Lies, betrayals, you name it. I was a spy. It was my job. I'm proof you don't need to be perfect to hear the hero's music.”

“You've risked your life for a good cause?” Drake asked.

“Yeah,” Cole said.

“That seems to be the ticket inside,” Drake said.

“And it's why you can trust us,” Ferrin said. “We've proven we know how to stick to our word, or we wouldn't be here. And we give our word that your cause is our cause. Harvan explained about Stafford and Nazeem. We'll stand with you against them.”

For a moment Cole caught a hint of thrilling music. He sensed that Ferrin was sincere. “You're not from here. Why are you willing to help me?”

“If we were ready to move on, we would have already gone,” Ferrin said. “Could be we're bored. Could be we're curious. Could be we have fond memories of those kids from Earth. Could be Harvan amuses us. Could be we can relate to the need to overthrow evil. Could be we really could use a few more good deeds to take with us wherever we go next.”

“Once you come down with heroism, it can be a tricky illness to kick,” Drake said.

Harvan returned to the room, smiling and spreading out his arms. “Cole, what do you say?”

“I think you found good guys,” Cole said.

“We're lucky to have them,” Harvan agreed. “So many people at the Hall of Glory just want to rest. They're letting go of heartache and horrors and getting ready to move on. Not us. We're just getting started. Trust me. These two are seasoned, and they're willing to help. We'll need strong wills on this mission. I can hear it in their music.”

“Will we need weapons?” Drake asked.

“They're difficult to obtain here,” Harvan said. “Swords and spears probably won't decide this.”

“Is there any point to my sword?” Cole asked.

“Just one,” Ferrin replied. “At the tip.”

“Beat me to it,” Harvan said, snapping his fingers in disappointment. “Cole, carrying a weapon in the echolands can be useful for intimidation. And you could physically destroy an echo with a sword—just not as easily as a mortal body.”

“The battles here aren't won by physical combat?” Drake asked.

“They can be,” Harvan said. “But often stealth can be more useful. Or cunning. Or strength of will. There are dark forces in the echolands that can ensnare you. Treacherous echoes will try to trick you into a bargain. They also might try to bind you with their wills.”

“I think that happened to me,” Cole said.

“Couldn't move?” Harvan asked.

“Once at Gamat Rue,” Cole said. “They froze my actual body there. Not just my echo. I couldn't even wiggle a finger. I was frozen another time here in the echolands. I couldn't move at first but broke free.”

“Good illustrations,” Harvan said. “There are different types of bindings. If a weaver is helping your enemies from the other side, or if you've made a bargain with them, or if you're at a location controlled by their music, their power to bind you increases. If they just try to bind you out in the open, it's basically their will against yours. Refuse to submit and you'll break free. With a little practice, a strong will can shake off bindings quickly. The more abruptly you do it, the more you'll stun the binder.”

“There was one other time I got frozen in the echolands,” Cole said. “A group bound me.”

“If they attack in large numbers, it can be your will against many,” Harvan said. “Having five of us together will help offset that risk. Also, enemies could try to physically restrain us and throw us into a slipstream or a holding pit.”

“Is it bad that I want somebody to try to control me?” Ferrin asked.

Harvan shook his head. “Confidence will go a long way against bindings and anything else they throw at us. Just don't go looking for trouble.”

“Fair enough,” Ferrin said.

“Cole, fill these guys in on where we're going,” Harvan said.

“They know about the princesses?” Cole asked.

“The basics,” Drake said. “We're looking for Destiny?”

“Last we heard, she was heading for a place called Deepwell,” Cole said. “It's where they were trying to control her shaping power. Which could mean there is some sort of monster there. The shapecrafters do bad things with these powers.”

“So off to Deepwell,” Harvan said.

Cole picked up the message from the table. “The prelate of the Temple of the Robust Sky asked me to deliver this to the Sweet Channel Charnel House. But the echo who figured out who I was got curious about me because the message was masking me.”

“The message works great,” Harvan said. “Elana Parson knows her craft. I take it the echo who found you out was up close?”

“Yeah,” Cole said.

“From a distance the message will mask you just fine,” Harvan said. “It's good work. Winston will be masking himself, me, and you as well. We don't need to hide Drake or Ferrin. They have no history here. Their presence will make us look like a random group of echoes to all but the most-skilled observers.”

“Won't the skilled ones be the most dangerous?” Ferrin asked.

“True, but also the least frequent to encounter,” Harvan said. “We'll avoid populated areas. Cole, should we deliver the message? The Sweet Channel Charnel House isn't far from our destination, and right on the way.”

“The prelate wrote a real message,” Cole said. “She told me her friend Lottie Natt would help me and can give me a better disguise.”

“Then we have a destination,” Harvan said. “The temple prelates are among the best weavers in Necronum. I don't know Elana Parson personally, but we don't want to overlook her advice.”

“What exactly is a charnel house?” Cole asked.

“In the echolands, it's a place to bring dead echoes,” Harvan said. “They dump them into a channel. The house is typically insulated against the call of the Other.”

“Dead echoes can still walk and talk,” Cole said.

“To different degrees,” Harvan said. “For example, if you return to life, your echo will linger and remain as lively as a dead echo can be. It won't learn, but it won't get any more susceptible to the homesong than you were when you departed. If at all possible, your echo will await the return of your lifespark. Once your lifeforce moves on to the Other, if the dead echo is not washed away in a slipstream, it will linger and gradually darken. Some become catatonic. Some grow violent.”

“Do echoes ever die outside of the channels?” Cole asked.

“Some people hear the call of the Other so strongly they simply leave their echo behind,” Harvan said. “No slipstream, no wandering off into the fringe—the lifeforce just goes. It seems to happen more frequently to those who cross over at a very old age. Sometimes a powerful weaver or echomancer can cause your lifespark to leave your echo, but usually only if you allow them power over you. And if an echo takes enough physical damage, it can die, freeing the lifeforce.”

“If we get imprisoned, can we let our lifeforce go?” Ferrin asked.

“I was once bound for many years,” Harvan said. “I wanted to move on. It would have been a welcome release at the time. But I couldn't. If we get captured in certain haunting grounds or by a skilled echomancer, they can block the effects of the homesong. If that happens, you can end up trapped for ages.”

“The worst thing would be getting caught by Nazeem,” Cole said.

“True,” Harvan agreed. “He remains somewhat in the shadows, but what I know of his abilities exceeds much of what I believed possible. We're talking about the inventor of shapecraft. Yet falling under his power is the reality our princesses are facing.”

“We have to save them,” Cole said.

“We'll do it,” Ferrin said.

Drake confirmed with a nod.

20

W
alking away from the Hall of Glory, Cole felt much better than he had so far in the echolands. He wasn't alone! Four seasoned adventurers strode at his side, ready to guide and protect him. Sure, they were ghosts, but so was he for now, so why complain?

Cole was the shortest of the group by a good margin, followed in height by Winston, Ferrin, Drake, and finally Harvan. Nobody else had a sword, but Cole suspected Harvan had thumped people with his heavy walking stick before, and it was a comfort knowing Winston could weave.

The exciting music of the Hall of Glory trumpeted loud and clear, causing Cole to pause and gaze back at the sprawling building. They were leaving behind the safest refuge in the echolands. He could picture the lavish rooms and courtyards full of relaxed heroes. Harvan came up beside him.

“Feel the pull?” Harvan asked.

Cole especially noticed the draw now that Harvan had put a name to it. The farther they had walked from the comfortable oasis, the more reluctant Cole had felt about departing. Even though he knew they needed to find Destiny, it seemed like they were missing something big. The music beckoned brashly. Couldn't they go back and rest a bit longer? What was the rush? Would a few hours make much difference?

“Yes,” Cole said.

“Feels like something is about to start,” Ferrin said. “Some rousing event that we never experienced during our long stay. Seems like if we hurry, we might get there just in time.”

“Then you arrive, and it's the same people lounging around the same rooms,” Harvan said. “I've come and gone a lot.”

“Even knowing why we must go, the music is beguiling,” Drake said. “Emotion can be stronger than reason.”

“The summons is strong,” Harvan agreed. “It helps lure people from various worlds to the echolands. I have seen many attempt to depart the hall only to return minutes later.”

Ferrin detached one arm just above the elbow and held it out toward the Hall of Glory. “Maybe I can leave a little piece of myself.”