Death Weavers (40 page)

“I have compassion for you, Cole,” she said. “I understand what you have lost. I know what you hope to regain. I can see your memories as if I lived them, including the lost memories of your brother, Hunter.”

“I still have those memories?” Cole asked.

“Yes. They are veiled from your conscious mind, but they remain. I used them to show you his room.”

Cole took a deep breath. A small corner of his mind had patiently waited for Hunter's identity to be an elaborate hoax. He believed Hunter was his brother, it had to be true, but he couldn't help leaving some defenses up in case it was all a ruthless trick. It was nice to have Hunter's identity confirmed from an outside source.

“Was that a test?” Cole asked. “Making me choose to come to the Outskirts again?”

“I had to confirm your level of commitment,” she said.

“What if I had failed?”

“I could have sent you to the Other. I could have sent you down the mountain. I could have still permitted you to speak with me.”

“It felt so real,” Cole said.

“In some of the ways that matter most, it was real,” she intoned.

“Trillian sent a message to me that the Outskirts might fall without my help,” Cole said.

“I'm aware.”

“Was that true?”

“The torivor cannot lie. He believed what he told you. Given all you have achieved, and your presence here, it seems he could be right.”

“He also thought I could get my power back.”

“You have a unique and remarkable talent,” she said. “I am sorry it was desecrated by Morgassa. You hope that I can heal you, but I cannot.”

“What about the guy you're sending me to visit?”

“If anyone can help, he can.”

Cole frowned. “Prescia said you were the wisest person in the echolands.”

“Very few know about the Warden of the Light. His existence is perhaps the greatest secret in the echolands. I only send you to him because of the import of your mission.”

“What if he sends me to some new secret person?” Cole asked, feeling frustrated again. “Somebody you don't know. How many mountains am I going to climb?”

“As many as you must,” she answered. “But I do not believe he will send you to another. He will help as he is able. Normally, he permits three questions. Hopefully, it will be enough.”

“Not even the Grand Shaper knows about him?” Cole asked.

“No. Only one other person in the echolands knows of his existence.”

“And you can give me directions?”

“I can have the Weaver's Beacon lead you to him.”

“I'm being chased,” Cole said.

“I am aware. And you have lost your companions. I can help you get away.”

“How?” Cole asked.

“I will send you a good distance from my mountain,” she said. “As I mentioned, my boundaries are irregular. My influence extends farther than you might guess along a few routes in certain directions. Far enough that those flying shapecrafters will struggle to follow. The beacon will conceal you from their weaving and their songreading.”

“How do they fly?” Cole asked.

“Shapecraft. They whistle up an artificial wind with their abilities. It should not be possible. But this is what shapecraft does. It manipulates the rules.”

“Can they come up here?” Cole asked.

“I control the skies near the mountain,” she said. “They ambushed you just beyond one of my nearest borders.”

“What about my other friends?” Cole asked. “Can you see them?”

“Mira was taken to the Fallen Temple. I can't see inside that location. Nothing blinds my vision like excess shapecraft. Honor was taken to Gamat Rue. Jace and Joe never left there. I can't see into Gamat Rue, either. I only know your friends were taken there through your memories. Desmond, Ferrin, and Drake are nearing Gamat Rue. As is Prescia. Durny was captured and brought inside the Fallen Temple.”

“Can you see into Necronum?” Cole asked.

“Only the echolands,” she replied.

“You can't see Destiny?” Cole wondered.

“I saw her earlier. She could have been on her way to Deepwell. Then she disappeared.”

“Could she have gone to the Other?”

“I would have sensed that. She is hidden somewhere. The Warden of the Light should be able to help.”

“Do you need to do something to the Weaver's Beacon?” Cole asked.

“It is done,” she said. “The beacon will direct you to the Warden of the Light. The most direct route would take you across some of the central echolands. Instead, I designed a route that will keep you far from other echoes.”

“Probably smart,” Cole said.

“Use caution. As you approach the warden's dwelling, you will venture far into the fringe. Resist the call of the Other. The beacon will let you avoid most hazards, but you will have to cross the Pass of Visions. You will see things that frighten you. Ignore them. Do not fight them. They can only attack if you touch them. You may also see people who want your help. Again, ignore them. If you touch them, it will be taken as permission for them to engage with you.”

“Sounds like a fun place,” Cole said.

“Trust the beacon,” she said. “It will not fail you. Are you ready to go?”

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“If the Warden of the Light chooses to help you, he will have many of the answers you seek.”

“Wait,” Cole said. “If?”

“Be brave. I believe he will aid you. Please give him my regards.”

Cole sighed. “Fine. I guess I'm ready. What do I need to do?”

“Give me permission to send you,” she said. “It makes the experience more comfortable.”

“You have my permission.”

“Farewell.”

28

C
ole felt like he simultaneously shrank and stretched. Everything became a sideways blur. His insides lurched like he was accelerating, but it looked more like he remained still while the world streaked by.

A feeling of nausea hit, and the frantic motion stopped abruptly. He stood near a bridge over a slipstream. The gray, powdery ground seemed inhospitable to plants. Only a few small, tidy trees grew within view.

The beacon gently pulled toward the bridge. Evidently, he was supposed to cross it.

Cole turned in a circle, eyes searching the horizon. The Farthest Mountain was nowhere in view. Her domain apparently included some far-flung tentacles.

Hopefully, he had enough of a head start to baffle Sando.

His eyes swept the sky, but he spotted no gliders.

Cole started running.

He tried not to dwell on Harvan and Winston. There was nothing to do about Winston. It was horrible, but irreversible. He had to be rational about it. And he would worry about Harvan later. His list of people to rescue was getting absurd.

As he ran, Cole could not help missing his companions. Unreasonable or not, he wished there was some way to undo Winston going to the Other. He wished he could save Harvan now, partly for selfish reasons. It was no fun to run alone. The lack of company left him feeling desolate and vulnerable.

At least he possessed the beacon. He had a crucial mission and a way to reach his destination. That was big. Maybe he would finally learn where to find Destiny. And maybe he could get some information about how to get home. Was that too greedy to hope? Based on what he had learned from She Who Stands at the Summit, if anybody could help him, it would be the Warden of the Light.

Cole wondered how Jace, Joe, and Honor were faring at Gamat Rue. Hopefully, they got to see one another sometimes. Hopefully, Desmond would manage to free them.

He worried about Mira. If she was at the Fallen Temple, she was with Nazeem. Would he try to take her power again? Would he play games with her mind? Was she suffering?

He tried not to envision the possibilities too vividly.

Cole also thought about Dalton and Hunter. Were they looking for Jenna? Could they have found her by now? Everything seemed so bleak, it was encouraging to imagine something good happening.

There was plenty to wonder about and worry over.

But mostly he had to keep running.

He also kept an eye on the sky.

Just in case.

The terrain changed as he ran. Cole traversed deserts and climbed hills. He crossed plains and passed through woods. In one forest the enormous trees had thick trunks and looked as tall as skyscrapers. It made Cole feel out of scale, as if he had become tiny.

He sprinted across a landscape of smooth, black pebbles. He followed a trail through a jagged range of yellow and red mountains. He plunged blindly across an ocean of grass more than twice his height.

Occasionally, he crossed channels, but thanks to the beacon, he always arrived where a bridge was present. The beacon steered him away from intimidating music and sometimes guided him away from inviting songs as well.

While crossing a wide plain made of transparent crystal, Cole began to discern the call of the Other more powerfully than he had yet heard it. The more detail he could apprehend, the more beautiful it sounded. The music felt familiar, as if he had somehow forgotten his favorite song along with his most cherished feelings, and they were all connected. The homesong promised wholeness and rest and joy.

He reminded himself about Winston losing his lifeforce to the Other. He concentrated on his duties and the people depending on him. He thought about Destiny and Mira and Dalton and Jenna.

And he tried not to think about how much more clearly he might hear the homesong if he shuttered the beacon. He tried to embrace his loneliness and decide he deserved the company of that inspiring melody.

He tried to concentrate on things other than the beckoning call. The crystal plain looked kind of like really clear ice. He could stare a long way beneath his feet. He wondered how far he had come. How many miles had he traveled? How many days had he run? It seemed he had gone farther than he had with Harvan and Winston, but it was hard to be sure. The duskday never changed.

At last the crystal plain ended, and Cole found himself running across a rolling prairie with occasional gigantic bushes. The call of the Other continued to beckon.

Would it be such a crime to shutter his beacon? Just for a little while?

He recalled Winston getting enthralled by the homesong before he had walked very far from the beacon. Shuttering the lantern might be the last thing he ever did. It might also let enemies pinpoint his location. He had to remember that the beacon was also concealing him. The call of the Other might sound sweet, and promise an end to his misery, but he couldn't get lured in. Too many people were relying on him.

Ominous music sounded up ahead, but the beacon kept leading him forward. A distant wall came into view. As he drew closer, Cole realized the wall was the size of a mountain, stretching as far he could see to either side.

Directly before him, right where the beacon was leading him, Cole saw a gap in the mighty barrier.

Could that be the Pass of Visions?

It was the most probable candidate so far.

As Cole approached, the barrier looked more like a huge cliff rather than a wall, though it was almost perfectly vertical, and the top was strangely level. By the time Cole reached the gap, the menacing music of the cliff drowned out the homesong. Cole felt relieved, although the new music was not welcoming.

With the beacon urging him forward, Cole entered the pass at a full sprint. Steep cliffs rose at either side, separated by about thirty yards of hard-packed dirt. The floor of the pass sloped up at a gradual incline, winding enough that Cole couldn't see how far it went.

A rumbling from up ahead caused Cole to slow down. Could it be a rockslide? He came to a stop when a large woman floated into view from farther up the pass, hovering toward him. She wore a white blouse, a long gray skirt, dark stockings, and flat black shoes. Her hair was up in a messy bun. Cole had seen this dressy schoolteacher before. She had mutilated his shaping power as she died.