Death Weavers (43 page)

“About getting home?”

“Right. Your problem involves the fundamental nature of this world. This was originally a place for the echoes of deceased mortals to let go of their previous lives. The Outskirts was created within the echolands. Those underlying mechanisms remain in place, but in some ways they work more powerfully on mortals who come here from Outside. When a lifeforce moves to the echolands, it is never meant to return. When a mortal comes to the Outskirts, some of the same rules take hold. Even if you manage to get home, you are drawn back.”

“That makes a weird kind of sense,” Cole said.

“When a lifeforce comes here as an echo, the echolands not only help the deceased individual prepare to move on—the preliminary separation helps those who mourn let go of the deceased. When a mortal comes to the Outskirts, the condition is exaggerated, and those who most love the person forget all about him.”

“The echolands are about letting go and moving on,” Cole said. “The Outskirts share some of those traits.”

“It would require shaping at the most fundamental level to overcome these obstacles,” Dandalus said. “Raw shaping of the primary aspects of this reality. It's impossible to do within the system we designed. But you have the potential of adjusting the system itself.”

“Me?” Cole asked.

“It's why Morgassa attacked you so fiercely,” Dandalus said. “Your power was a threat. You naturally possess what the shapecrafters have artificially tried to create inside of themselves—raw shaping power. That's why you could make the Jumping Sword work in Elloweer. Your power transcends the boundaries we established. It took you a long time to start using it because your ability was not meant to function in the system we created. But that didn't stop you.”

“Doesn't that make me dangerous?” Cole asked.

“Yes. It also makes you useful. Because your style of shaping could actually challenge the torivors. I'm not sure anyone else could make them break a sweat. This must be why Trillian thought you might be able to save the Outskirts.”

“Wouldn't Trillian hate me?” Cole asked.

“Hard to say,” Dandalus said. “I expect he sees you as both a hazard and an opportunity. He probably hopes you will go to him for training. Given your innate abilities, who knows how he might try to use you?”

Cole shivered. “I don't want to serve the torivors. But I'll try to stop them if I can.”

“I know you mean well. I admire your courage. Cole, the answer to your question is that you have the potential to get your friends home if you can unlock your power.”

“Do you know how I can do that?”

“That is a big question. Want to make it number three?”

“Yes.”

“I know you wish that I could repair your power,” Dandalus said. “I wish it too. But I can't. The damage is too wrapped up in who you are. It connects to your very lifespark. If I tried to heal it, I would kill you.”

“Trillian thought I could get my power back,” Cole said.

“Trillian was probably right,” Dandalus said. “But you will have to find a way. I don't know of anyone who can do it for you.”

“When I touched the Founding Stone, your imprint helped me use my power,” Cole said.

“I saw that episode in your memories. My imprint didn't heal your damage. It helped you work around it. I could do the same here. I could help you work around your damage and engage some of your power. But when you left, you would remain as you were. Perhaps, given enough time, you will find methods to work around the damage on your own.”

“So you can't help me fix the problem,” Cole said. “I wasted my last question.”

Dandalus looked beyond Cole. “I don't see a line of people awaiting their turn. The three-question rule is there to help prevent frivolous inquiries and to let me see what most matters to people. You can ask me more if you'd like.”

“You seem to know a lot,” Cole said.

“I am the Warden of the Light.”

“Where is the light?” Cole asked. “Is it bright?”

“Brightness isn't always the best for seeing,” Dandalus said. “It depends on the goal. For example, back home in Arizona, when could you see farthest?”

“What do you mean?” Cole said. “Like during the day? Or when I was on a mountain?”

“You could see your surroundings best during the day,” Dandalus said. “But when could you see farthest?”

“At night,” Cole realized. “The stars. Those are easily the farthest things I could see.”

“But they were invisible during the day,” Dandalus said. “Brightness can help, but it isn't everything.”

“Is your light a lantern like this one?” Cole asked, holding up the beacon.

“It is a more important kind of light,” Dandalus said. “The light of understanding. The light of discernment. The light that lets us comprehend things as they really are.”

“Do you know everything?”

“I'm as close as it comes in this plane of existence. I know what the echolands once were. I know how we changed them. If all else fails, I can restore them.” He considered Cole with grave eyes.

“You mean erase what you did?” Cole asked. “Hit the self-destruct button?”

“More or less,” Dandalus said. “If it comes to it, I could destroy the Outskirts, flush all the echoes to the Other, and restore the echolands to their original state. I can undo what the six of us established.”

“But it would kill everybody,” Cole said.

“Everybody,” Dandalus emphasized. “We'd all head to the Other. Including myself. I hope never to do it. But I am the final safeguard against the echolands being overthrown and corrupted. I am the Warden of the Light.”

“What about my friends?” Cole tried. “Do you know where they are?”

“Like She Who Stands at the Summit, I can't see into the strongholds tainted by shapecraft. And I can't see the mortal Outskirts from here. But Prescia, Ferrin, Drake, and Desmond were captured when they tried to free Honor from Gamat Rue. Harvan was taken there as well. Mira and Durny remain at the Fallen Temple.”

“It's all on me,” Cole said, buckling under the impossible weight of all the people he needed to help.

“Take it one problem at a time,” Dandalus said.

“I guess,” Cole said. “What else should I ask you?”

“I could shed light on many issues that have made you curious. Remember, I've seen your mind. For example, I made the cloudwalls in Sambria.”

“You did?”

“I felt bad for those whose wishes never came true. For the unfulfilled dreams here and elsewhere. One cloudwall interprets broken dreams into physical realities. It was quite difficult to construct. My crowning achievement in some ways. It selects those subjects who dreamed biggest but also endured the greatest frustration. Since the cloudwall ran the risk of eventually bringing too much material into the Outskirts, I designed the other one to dispose of the creations. I never anticipated the salvage operations that sprang up, but I'm happy they exist, so the castles provide some benefit to people beyond their aesthetics.”

“I almost died in some of those castles,” Cole said.

“I saw those memories. It's why I suspected you might be interested.”

“What else can you tell me?” Cole asked.

“Understanding the true nature of the Outskirts resolves some of the questions you have wondered about. Originally, the echoes all communicated by telepathy. It transcended language. We left enough of that in place that everyone understands one another here, no matter what language they speak. In fact, it takes very disparate languages to create the impression of an accent.”

“More,” Cole said. “Read my mind.”

“You've wondered about the sky. The Outskirts are not organized as a round planet like Earth. They are essentially flat, created entirely in the echolands. But the mortals we brought here all came from round worlds, so we wanted to give them days and nights. Vershaw oversaw the skies. He was the most artistic of us. He borrowed vistas from many of the different worlds that feed into the echolands, and added plenty of his own touches. Since the heavens were basically an elaborate simulation, he embraced the ruse, designing them without reliable patterns. It's enough to drive an astronomer mad.”

“The sun felt real,” Cole said.

“It radiates a similar spectrum as your sun back home,” Dandalus said. “And the moons shed real light. But they are not actually true bodies floating in space. We faked it. The skies in the original echolands have always been as you see them here. Every now and then we allowed a duskday in the Outskirts to pay homage to the original sky.”

“Cool,” Cole said. “Keep going. I want to hear more.”

“I could ramble on for much too long,” Dandalus said. “Is there anything else specific you wish to know?”

Cole racked his brain for the best question. “What's the meaning of life?”

Dandalus smiled. “You asked Aeronomatron this one. His answer didn't satisfy you?”

“Not really.”

Dandalus scrunched his face. “There are different ways to explain it. Here is one. The purpose of existence is the education of the will. And the meaning of life is to learn to love the right things.”

“I like that,” Cole said. “What are the right things?”

“In short? Those things that bring lasting happiness to yourself and others.”

“Can you be more specific?” Cole said.

“The whole point involves discovering what those things are,” Dandalus said. “Many lessons must be lived to be understood. You'll find that it doesn't so much matter what happens as you live—what gives it all purpose and meaning is who you become. You're doing a good job, Cole. An outstanding job for one so young. You're heading in the right direction.”

“Thanks,” Cole said.

“I have enjoyed our conversation,” Dandalus said. “I miss interacting with others. Are you ready to learn where you can find Destiny?”

“Yes,” Cole said.

Dandalus glanced over his shoulder. “She's in my house.” He raised his voice. “Tessa! We have a visitor.”

Destiny appeared in the doorway. “I was listening.”

30

C
ole could find no words. He finally went with “Hi.”

“Hello,” she replied. “This is the boy you told me about?” she asked Dandalus.

“Yes,” Dandalus said. “He came here to help you.”

Cole just stared. The most powerful people in the world were looking for Destiny. Nobody had a clue where she was hiding. People had sacrificed to find her. The task seemed impossible. Cole had only dared to hope for information that might point him in the right direction.

And here she was. A young girl.

“I met your imprint in the Cave of Memory,” Cole said.

“Was I nice?” Tessa asked.

“I liked you,” Cole said. “I've been helping your sister Mira.”

Tessa brightened at the mention of her sister. “How is she?”

“Well, she got captured,” Cole said. “Honor too. Mira gave me the mission to find you.”

“Cole rode the Mare,” Dandalus said. “It saved him twice. I believe your power wanted him to locate you.”

“The Mare brought me here,” Tessa said.

“My only other visitor in the past two hundred years,” Dandalus said.

“Your own power brought you here?” Cole asked.

“I can't control her,” Tessa said. “I didn't know where we were going.”

“Would have been nice if the Mare had brought me here too,” Cole said.

“The Mare helped you,” Dandalus said. “Thanks to the Mare you met Durny and Harvan. Be grateful for that much. Destiny's power is hard to understand.”

“I've started to get flashes of knowledge again,” Destiny said. “At first it was a relief to lose my power. Seeing too much took away a lot of my choices. It also made people hate me. But sometimes it's nice to know what to do. To feel certain.”