Death Weavers (51 page)

“Probably,” Cole said. “Thunder is the reason you're all free. At first I thought I might be going to the Fallen Temple alone.”

Prescia looked at the Mare. “Nazeem has pursued Destiny more aggressively than anyone. What if her power is what he most wants? What if we're handing him victory by—”

Thunder whinnied, stamped, and shook her head.

Prescia frowned. “Maybe we should at least keep Destiny's power out of this. Cole could still lead a team—”

Thunder reared, whinnied, and bucked her rear legs.

“I think Thunder wants to come,” Cole said.

The Mare gave a snort and bobbed her head.

Prescia tossed up her hands in surrender. “Who am I to resist such a power? I could name reasons this strategy seems reckless and fraught with peril, but I cannot claim to see deeper or to know more. I will join you as well.”

“Sounds unanimous,” Jace said. “Should we get started?”

“You just got free,” Cole said. “Are you ready to charge back into danger?”

Jace shrugged. “All I've wanted since they took Mira away was to go help her.”

“How was it being a prisoner here?” Cole wondered.

“Lots of waiting, mostly,” Jace said. “Sometimes a bunch of talking. They wanted information from me. I guess they couldn't read my mind.”

“Persistent refusal and a strong will can block out just about anyone,” Prescia said. “Well done.”

“Sando spent some time trying to talk me into different deals,” Jace went on. “Some sounded really good. But I'm not stupid. No offense, Desmond. Or you either, Cole.”

“None taken,” Cole said. “Good job.”

“The worst part was the frustration of not being able to help,” Jace said. “I hated all the waiting. Which is why I want to get started.”

“Nazeem is a torivor,” Cole warned. “I have met one before. Trillian, at the Lost Palace. He is incredibly powerful. We might not escape him.”

“Did you say a torivor?” Ferrin asked.

“Yes,” Cole said. “Why?”

“We had torivors in Lyrian,” Ferrin replied.

“We sure did,” Drake said, touching his chest.

“How many?” Cole asked.

“Dozens,” Ferrin said. “But they had been enslaved by wizards long before our time. I believe they were only shadows of their former selves.”

“They were still plenty tough,” Drake said. “And plenty creepy.”

“There are only two here,” Cole said. “They were imprisoned by shapers or they would be running the place. Going up against Nazeem will be no joke.”

“We know it's dangerous, Cole,” Jace said. “We're ready.”

Thunder bobbed her head and stamped.

“Are we agreed?” Harvan called out.

The others responded in the affirmative with varying degrees of enthusiasm. Thunder whinnied her approval.

Callista returned to her human form, approached Cole, and took his hand. “In honor of Thunder, I have a theme,” she announced, then proceeded to transform the others into horses, one by one. Cole steadily pushed power into her. He felt her need increase with each changing and upped his output accordingly.

Honor held up her hands when Callista faced her. “Wait!”

“You want to be a knight again?” Callista asked.

“If it isn't too much trouble,” Honor replied.

“Someone will have to carry you,” Callista said.

“It would be my privilege,” Desmond said, already a large white stallion.

“Done,” Callista said, and Honor disappeared inside a full suit of gleaming armor.

Callista finished changing the others except for Winston, then released Cole. “Thanks, my boy. I couldn't have done so many without you.”

“Happy to help,” Cole said.

“What about me?” Winston asked.

“I can't change a dead echo,” Callista said. “You'll have to ride.”

“Climb aboard,” Harvan said, now a chestnut stallion.

“Cole, I take it you would prefer to ride Thunder?” Callista asked.

The Mare crouched down.

“I think so,” Cole said, mounting up.

Callista morphed into a jungle cat again.

Thunder stood and started running. The others followed.

Cole was glad to hear the music of Gamat Rue recede behind them. He wondered how long it would be until they heard the sound of the Fallen Temple. Would there be other stops along the way?

Although Prescia had withdrawn her concerns, Cole could not help thinking them over as they rode. What if they really were no match for Nazeem? What if Destiny's power simply wanted to go out in a blaze of glory? Or what if the odds of success were tiny, but Thunder had decided an infinitesimal chance was better than none?

If Sando had captured all of them, he would have probably brought them to the Fallen Temple. Now they were going there voluntarily. Might this end up being the same as if Sando had nabbed all of them at the start?

Cole thought about Jenna and Dalton. With his power back, Cole had a chance of getting them home. If they could find the Grand Shaper of Creon, their impossible dream could become a reality. But if Nazeem caught Cole or sent him to the Other, the dream was dead. If he was the best chance Dalton and Jenna had to get home, was it fair to take this risk?

Nazeem had Mira. He also had Destiny. At the moment, as far as Cole knew, those two princesses were in much greater danger than Jenna and Dalton. If Mira was in the greatest danger, didn't she deserve the most immediate attention?

Cole had long struggled with which friends most deserved his help. He had debated the issue with Dalton. Did his old friends have a truer claim on him? Did the desperate needs of new friends like Mira trump all other problems? He was finally beginning to realize that there was simply no good answer to those questions. The old friends mattered. So did the new ones. They all mattered. He just needed to help whoever he could, as best he could, when given the chance. Right now that meant Mira and Tessa.

Besides, if Nazeem got free, he might destroy the Grand Shaper of Creon and end any hope of getting home. This threat needed to be dealt with.

Hopefully, success was possible.

*  *  *

They rode for a long time. Drawing only gently on Cole's power, Thunder held to a pace that let the others keep up. Paradise streamed by all around them, meadows and groves, hills and shrubs. The music soothed Cole. He realized this might be his last experience, at least on this side of the Other. He tried to absorb the beautiful sights and to enjoy the smooth speed of Thunder. Part of him wanted the ride to last forever. Another part wanted to get there and end the anticipation.

At last, menacing music began to throb up ahead. It carried a stronger warning than any of the tunes Cole had yet heard. At a deep, instinctive level, Cole wanted to flee. He had to resist trying to get Thunder to turn away.

The temple came into view, dominating a large clearing. Cole wondered if it had always been entirely black, or if that happened after Nazeem was imprisoned there. There were many towers and spires, the eight tallest equal in height. A high wall protected the complex. A few skeletal trees stretched above the wall, bare branches contorted. A channel ran directly in front of the wall, spanned by a narrow bridge that led to an open gate. The whistling symphony of the slipstream was all but drowned out by the ominous harmonies of the Fallen Temple.

Thunder stopped just short of the drawbridge. Cole looked around at the horses with them. A knight rode on one of them. Winston rode another. And there was the panther.

“Should we return to our natural forms?” Callista asked.

Thunder nodded and stamped one hoof.

“Need help?” Cole offered.

Callista returned to her true form. “Not to restore them,” she said.

One by one, the others changed back from their horse shapes.

Honor dismounted before Desmond was changed. “May I remain in this guise?” she asked.

Thunder nodded and stamped.

Callista changed all the others but left Honor as a knight.

“The gate is open,” Ferrin said. “Are we expected?”

“It's always open,” Prescia said. “Nazeem has always welcomed visitors. This whole area is difficult to perceive from afar. I'm sad that any echoes ever came here voluntarily.”

“The music alone would keep me away,” Joe said.

“Let's get this over with,” Jace said.

“Cole should carry the beacon,” Prescia said. “Keep it as bright as you can. Perhaps it will help shield us from his influence.”

She returned the beacon to Cole, and he accepted it.

Jace twirled his rope around, making sure it functioned. Honor drew her sword. Cole met eyes with Harvan, who gave a nod.

“All right,” Cole said. “Ready?”

“Lead the way,” Jace said.

Cole smiled at his friend. It was nice to have him here. “Die bravely.”

“Already did,” Jace replied.

Cole wondered how long he had been waiting to use that line.

Thunder started forward, hoofs clomping on the bridge over the channel. Cole unshuttered the lantern as he rode through the gateway.

36

M
uch like when he had entered the Lost Palace, Cole found that the appearance of the Fallen Temple changed after passing through the gateway. For one thing, most of it was gone. Only the glossy floor remained, along with some carpets, pillars, and furnishings. A swirling sky radiated eerie light. The tempo of the music had slowed, becoming murkier and more secretive.

Thunder came to a halt, muscles twitching. Cole's friends remained with him, but otherwise the entire area appeared deserted. He could see a long distance in every direction but wondered how much of the surrounding landscape was illusory. How far would he travel before striking an invisible wall? Nothing in view matched the terrain Cole had seen moments ago outside the Fallen Temple.

“Where are we?” Ferrin asked.

“I'm afraid we're wherever Nazeem wants us to be,” Prescia said.

A resonant chuckle from the sky confirmed her words.

Cole felt the hair raise up on the back of his neck.

“Not very comforting,” Joe remarked.

“I'm a little glad to already be dead,” Winston said.

“No need to talk like that,” Harvan scolded.

“I don't see anybody,” Jace said. “Where should we look for the princesses?”

“We had better find Nazeem first,” Callista suggested.

“Welcome to my domain.” The rich voice descended from the sky and rose from the ground, casual in tone, but powerful enough that the vibrations buzzed in Cole's chest. “You may as well relax. You are here to talk, not to fight. None of you can challenge me here. Each of you will perish if I elect to terminate you.”

“Where are you?” Jace called out, rope held ready.

“I am everywhere,” the voice said. “And nowhere. I may reveal myself to some of you in due time.”

“Where are my sisters?” Honor demanded.

“It's a shame your mother did not name you Patience,” the voice said. “Or Politeness. Do you require a demonstration? If you insist. Try to move. Any of you. Try to speak. Try to blink.”

The shutter of the Weaver's Beacon snapped closed.

Cole became completely immobilized. He couldn't exhale. He couldn't twitch.

“Some of you are trying to resist me,” the voice said. “You may as well attempt to lift a mountain. Go ahead and try. Keep in mind as you fail that you only remain here because I have not sent you to the Other. I would converse with Cole.”

Suddenly, Cole stood in a field of thick mist that rose to his shins. The low mist stretched to the edge of sight in all directions under a pale, hazy sky. A pair of bulky stone chairs sat facing one another. A man sat in one of them. Cole recognized him.

“Nazeem,” Cole said.

“I asked some of my earlier followers to give me a name,” Nazeem said. “That was what they chose. Nazeem. It suited my purposes at the time to obscure my identity. But you know my true name.”