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Authors: Brandon Mull

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BOOK: Death Weavers
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GAMAT RUE

T
he ruins of the ancient prison crowned a huge, brushy hill surrounded by dense woods. All roofing had caved in long ago, and many walls had collapsed into grassy heaps of rubble. The irregular fins of stonework that remained rose from the brush in bewildering shapes, leaving the design of the original structure unrecognizable. A few empty windows still contained rusty bars, giving the only clue that the broken ramparts once contained prisoners.

The midday sun glared down from almost directly overhead as Cole and the others gathered at the base of the hill near the edge of the woods. Each of them wore one of Tuto's pendants, though he had warned that most of the protection would be forfeited by knowingly entering the haunting ground. Jace wore three.

The journey from Tuto's cottage to Gamat Rue had provided no difficulties. Only forcing their way through the untamed forest around the hill had really slowed them.

“The timing could not be better,” Tuto said. “Here in physical Necronum, the powers of Nandavi should be at their lowest ebb under the noonday sun.”

“So we better get up there,” Jace said, trying to sound relaxed.

“We don't want to wait too long,” Tuto agreed.

“Somebody should stay with the horses,” Cole said. They had led their mounts through the woods around the hill. “I vote for Dalton.”

“Why me?” Dalton asked, not without some hopefulness.

“In case things go badly, you can go help Jenna,” Cole said.

“Not everyone needs to do this,” Mira said, looking up the long, gentle slope. “Cole? Hunter? Jace? Joe?”

“You should stay,” Jace told Mira. “You're not a weaver. Why risk it? The revolution could be ruined without you. The rest of us can look for Tessa and Ragio just fine.”

“I'm going,” Mira said resolutely. “That's final.”

“Then I'm with you,” Jace said without hesitation, though one hand strayed to a feathered pendant.

“I won't leave your side,” Joe said.

“Me neither,” Cole added.

“I'd love to watch the horses,” Hunter said. “But I'm the only other person with some weaving skills. I better come.”

Dalton looked uncertainly at his horse. “We leave the horses tied up all the time. It won't be that long.”

“You're not only watching the horses,” Cole said. “This is for Jenna. And if none of us return, maybe you can find rescuers.”

“Stay,” Mira encouraged. “It makes sense.”

“All right,” Dalton said. “But come back. I don't want to try to lead seven horses through those woods.”

“Weapons?” Jace asked, hefting his crossbow.

“We're dealing with echoes,” Tuto said. “Normally, there would be no reason to involve tangible weapons. But at a haunting ground, sometimes echoes can take material form and interact with the matter of the physical world. In such cases, they may become temporarily vulnerable to physical weapons.”

“They can fight us?” Jace asked.

“Potentially,” Tuto said. “An echo might hurl a stone, or knock over a wall, or even push you directly.”

“He's right,” Hunter said. “I've heard stories.”

Jace looked a little peaked. Cole clapped him on the arm. “At least we might be able to stab them. Better than nothing, right?”

Face valiantly composed, Jace gave a nod.

“Stay near me,” Tuto said. “We should do this together. There is some strength in numbers.”

They hiked up the hillside. Cole could picture that in the dark, the eroded remains of the ancient prison could be scary. But under the sunlight, walking with friends, it felt more like a field trip.

Tuto halted a few steps downhill from the first broken wall. Scarred blocks littered the brush ahead of him. Tuto pointed at a timeworn chunk of carved masonry.

“The area is marked,” Tuto said. “It's a warning that we are entering haunted ground. Such a warning further limits our protection. We are knowingly trespassing.”

“So why tell us?” Cole asked.

“There are other warnings around the site,” Tuto said, scanning the area. “Some written in plain language. You'll feel the difference when we enter the former boundaries of Gamat Rue. Your senses will warn you to depart.”

“What's our strategy?” Jace asked, trying to sound businesslike, but failing to mask his uneasiness.

“Stay strong,” Tuto said. “The echoes here will take what you give them. Your fear or uncertainty will only encourage them. They may ask for things. They may harass you for trespassing. Agree to nothing. We will collectively maintain that we have a right to be here because they may have harmed Destiny. We will not accept their claim to this place. We will not admit to being trespassers. Standing firm on those issues will make it harder for them to bother us.”

“Can they sense if we're secretly afraid?” Jace asked.

“Our thoughts and emotions will be at least partially exposed to the echomancer,” Tuto said. “But what you claim to believe still matters. Acting confident carries weight no matter how you privately feel.”

“Could Destiny actually be here?” Mira asked.

Tuto shrugged and raised both hands. “I don't see any other people around. I suppose there could be unseen dungeons where live prisoners are held. We'll know more once we enter Gamat Rue.”

“If we can't find Destiny, we'll want to learn what Ragio knows,” Hunter reminded everyone.

“As soon as we enter, I'll start looking for him,” Tuto pledged. Shielding his eyes, he glanced upward. “The sun can't get much higher. Shall we proceed?”

Now that the moment had arrived, Cole felt deep reluctance. He touched the ringer in his pocket. There had been no word from Sando since the morning they left Rincomere. The old echo had already made it clear that visiting Gamat Rue was a bad idea. The prospect of finding out how bad made Cole a little nauseated. He noticed Jace's tight grip on his crossbow.

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

Tuto moved as if to continue up the hill, then hesitated and looked over his shoulder. “Take care with your weapons. Without caution, the chances are greater of us hurting one another than damaging any echoes.”

Cole took his hand off the hilt of his Jumping Sword. He noticed Jace engage the safety on the crossbow.

Staying near the others, Cole weaved between low piles of rubble and passed the first crumbling wall of the prison. As he stepped beyond the wall, an immense feeling of dread took hold of him. Something was not right here. The temperature noticeably dropped, and the air became clammy. Suddenly, the daylight felt wrong, almost as if he had put on tinted sunglasses—the light seemed a bit dimmer, and the colors were off. His instincts screamed for him to run.

“Feel it?” Tuto asked. “This is our warning.” His voice was too muffled, as if speaking from another room.

Cole's skin rippled into goose bumps, and the hairs on his arms and neck stood tall. Beside him, Jace breathed shallowly, wide eyes darting. Cole nudged him with his elbow. “Scared?” Even from his own lips, the word seemed distant. Cole remembered words sounding like this once when he took a flight with a cold and his ears were slow to pop.

Focus returned to Jace's gaze. He clenched his jaw and gave Cole a scowl, his thumb on the safety of his crossbow.

“This way,” Tuto said, walking briskly.

The top of the hill was either naturally flat or else had been leveled to accommodate the prison. As Cole advanced, he found the perspectives confusing. There were more walls and pillars than it appeared from down the hill, and the distances between them were disconcertingly unpredictable. A stony barrier looked ten paces away, but he would reach it in three. Another appeared five paces away, but it would take fifteen steps to get there. He got the feeling that when he wasn't looking in a particular direction, the ruins were shifting position, only to hold mockingly still when his gaze returned.

Stepping carefully around a heap of broken slabs, Mira quietly drew her Jumping Sword. Joe stayed at her side. Jace pointed his crossbow toward the ground and released the safety, his finger near the trigger.

Hunter came closer to Cole. He muttered something inaudible, then raised his voice. The words were still almost too soft to hear. “This place is crammed with echoes.”

“Yeah?” Cole asked.

“I haven't looked across. But I can feel them.”

“I can feel something,” Cole said. The dread inside was mounting. He wasn't sure if it was appropriate to talk. He felt like a mouse sneaking through a room full of sleeping cats.

“Stay calm,” Hunter said. “Hopefully, we can get this over with quickly.”

The air was unusually heavy and still. It seemed reluctant to fill Cole's lungs, reluctant to carry words, reluctant to part for intruders.

Tuto led them purposefully to a circular clearing at the center of the ruins. Unlike elsewhere, no brush or weeds grew inside the circle. No walls or rubble interrupted the naked expanse of rock and dirt, though plenty surrounded it.

Give the ringer to Jace,
a voice instructed in Cole's mind. The words came clearly—apparently, the drowsy atmosphere of Gamat Rue didn't interfere with mental communication.

“Now?” Cole asked, the whispered word barely making it past his lips.

Tuto instructed them to gather in a ring.

Yes, immediately,
Sando replied in his mind.

Cole formed a circle with the others, Hunter on one side, Jace on the other. Wasn't this a suspicious time for Sando to make this request? Couldn't it wait until they got out of the prison? Was he up to something?

We had a deal, Cole,
Sando insisted.
Deliver the ringer now, or you break your promise. You don't want to do that in a place like this. I've been helping you. Quick. Do it now.

Cole's hand went to his pocket, and his fingers easily found the ringer.

“Jace,” Cole murmured. His friend didn't hear, so he repeated it louder.

Jace glanced at him.

Cole held out his hand, the silver ringer pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

Looking a little bewildered, Jace extended his hand.

Cole set the ringer on his palm.

And Sando appeared in the middle of the circle. “Hold them,” the wiry beggar commanded, his voice unusually resonant.

Tuto began gesticulating, hands describing fluid patterns as he crouched and swiveled. Cole's head was tugged upward, his muscles tensing in unison, and suddenly, he couldn't move. Even his eyes were locked in place, though he could see the others around him, at least peripherally. They all held their chins up and stood very still.

Tuto continued to pivot and pose, as if demonstrating a martial art.

“Greetings,” Sando said with a toothless smile, eager eyes taking in the entire group. He looked perfectly tangible. “I am the echo who helped you elude capture twice. Cole was kind enough to complete our bargain and release me from my promise to do no harm.”

Cole couldn't move, but everything inside of him withered. Here was the real price of Sando's help! The moment Cole handed over the coin, the old beggar had been freed to turn on them precisely when they were most vulnerable. And Tuto was clearly an accomplice. In complete stillness, Cole battled fruitlessly to move. He had failed to foresee how delivering a coin could lead to serious trouble. He had made the wrong deal with the wrong echo. Consequently, he and his friends were doomed.

Hunter collapsed. Cole tried to turn his head, or at least his eyes, but could do nothing more than pay extra attention to his peripheral vision.

“I see you mean to rush this,” Sando said irritably. “Tuto, permit all but Mira and Cole to speak. I need volunteers to cross to the echolands. Without other offers, I take Mira.”

“Me,” Jace said immediately.

“No, me,” Joe volunteered right after him.

Cole tried to speak, but his vocal chords refused to respond. He couldn't even grunt. The only action he could manage was to breathe very slowly.

“Nandavi?” Sando called, pointing at Jace. “Him.”

Jace flopped to the ground. Cole could only see him in the corner of his vision, but after hitting the dirt, Jace looked very still. Cole didn't see Nandavi anywhere. If she was present, she wasn't visible.

Cole lurched and lunged and thrashed and screamed, all without budging an inch or making a sound. He couldn't even go limp. Every muscle remained tightly fixed in position.

Then Sando pointed at Joe. “And him.”

Joe crumpled as well. Cole could see this better, since Joe was across from him.

Cole exerted himself violently but again failed to even twitch. His friends were dying! It was his fault! And there was nothing he could do.

Sando grinned at Mira. “I neglected to clarify that even with those volunteers, you will still come to the echolands. My preference would be to keep this tidy. Mira, I will claim Cole unless you volunteer. Tuto, let her speak.”

“Will he live if I volunteer?” Mira asked sharply.

“I will not take him to the echolands if you come now,” Sando said. “Hurry. The offer won't last.”

Cole tried to scream
No!
Nothing came out. Not a squeak. Not a whimper.

“You won't take him to the echolands?” Mira asked. “Or he will live and go free?”

Sando wrinkled his nose. “Fine. Yes. Cole will live and go free.”

“All right,” Mira said.

“Nandavi?” Sando asked, indicating Mira.

She dropped like a marionette with her strings cut. Mira didn't just look unconscious. She looked dead.

Cole no longer tried to thrash. He seemed to shrink. Jace, Joe, and Mira? Just like that? He couldn't sag. He couldn't cry. He couldn't blink. He could only stand there with his chin up, his muscles frozen, and his heart desolate.

Sando glanced at Tuto, who continued to flutter his arms and fingers. “This got a little messier than I would have preferred. The boy Dalton stayed behind, and Cole must be monitored—”

BOOK: Death Weavers
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