by Brandon Mull
FOR MY DEAR FRIEND AMY, FOREVER ADMIRED AND BELOVED
CHAPTER
1
PRISONERS
Cole could not see anything.
He lay stretched across the rough wooden planks of a wagon bed, the hood over his head somewhat dampening the impact as the boards rapped against his skull. Judging from the sound of the hoofbeats and the rattling of the vehicle, they were moving briskly along a dirt road. His hands were bound together behind his back with strong, slender cords. Iron manacles encircled his ankles, biting into his skin when he tried to pull free. The coarse material against his face threatened to induce a claustrophobic panic, though he could breathe reasonably well.
Unpleasant sensations assailed him—hunger, thirst, soreness, exhaustion.
Having just returned from the echolands, he found ownership of a physical body startlingly unfamiliar. He had not felt hungry in a long while. Or sore.
Cole had been warned before returning to his body. He knew he had been captured, along with Destiny, Honor, and Desmond. Their bodies had been left behind at the Temple of the Robust Sky when they had departed for the echolands, and their defenseless physical forms had fallen into the power of Enforcers.
The prelate Elana had placed their bodies in a secret room for safekeeping. Clearly something had gone wrong. Wherever Elana was now, Cole hoped she was all right.
“Hello?” Cole called, not at full volume but hopefully loud enough for any other prisoners sharing the wagon to hear.
“Cole?” a voice answered, slightly muffled.
It was Destiny. Tessa. Mira’s youngest sister, who he had just rescued in the echolands.
“I’m here too,” Honor said, her voice clearer and louder, though somewhat dampened as well. Strong and independent, Honor was Mira’s second-oldest sister and had helped in the search for Tessa. “Desmond?”
There came no reply.
“Anybody else?” Honor tried.
“It may just be the three of us,” Cole said. “Are you tied up too?”
“Manacles on my hands and feet,” Honor replied over the creak and rattle of the wagon. “Hood over my head.”
Cole wondered if he should be insulted that only his feet had actual manacles.
“I can’t see either,” Destiny said. “My hands are tied. My legs are chained.”
“Me too,” Cole said, deciding that he was considered a lesser threat than Honor.
“Can you spring us, Cole?” Honor asked.
It was a fair question. In the echolands, Cole had finally unlocked his power. His shaping ability had become inaccessible after being mangled when he fought Morgassa in Elloweer. Once his power had become active, Cole found he could awaken the shaping power in others, and he had learned to transform objects in the echolands with his will, as if he were a gifted shaper in Sambria.
Cole could still feel his power smoldering inside. It had been absent for so long, the presence was unmistakable.
In the echolands, he had recently used his power to throw down castle walls. The manacles should not stand a chance. Let alone the fabric of the hood covering his face.
Mustering his focus, Cole willed the unseen manacles cuffing his ankles to dissolve.
Nothing happened.
Cole tugged with his legs against the restraints. The unforgiving iron dug into his skin just as before.
Cole willed the fabric of the hood to split apart. He drew on his power with all of his effort.
Not a single thread popped.
“I don’t know,” Cole replied. “I can feel my power. But it doesn’t seem to be working. I can’t make it connect.”
“I worried it might be different back in a physical body,” Honor said.
“Why should it be different?” Cole asked.
“The echolands are made of a whole different kind of matter,” Honor said. “You didn’t have a physical body there, and you weren’t affecting physical material. I’ve never heard of anyone developing their power as quickly as you did in the echolands. You have the same abilities here, but using those skills in the physical world may take more time to develop.”
Cole relaxed his mind. Without straining, he tried to push his power at the iron cuffs gripping his ankles. Again he got no result. He refocused on the hood, to no avail.
“I’m sorry,” Cole said. “I can’t even tear the hood. But my power is with me.”
“They’re probably taking us to Owandell,” Honor said. “Once we reach Junction, I should be able to access my power. I’ll set us free.”
“No,” Destiny said, her voice calm and certain. “Going before Owandell will lead us to the paths we must walk.”
For a long moment Cole listened to hoofs clopping and scuffing against the dirt. The wagon jerked, swayed, and creaked.
“That settles it,” Honor said, resignation in her tone. “No escape attempt. We wait.”
“What paths?” Cole asked. “Where are we going?”
“I don’t know,” Destiny said, sounding like herself once more.
“No hints?” Cole asked.
“I’m sorry,” Destiny said. “It just comes. I never know more than what comes.”
“No apology needed,” Honor said. “Any guidance helps.”
In the echolands, Cole had seen Destiny’s power in action. Separate from her, in the form of a horse, her power had played a key role in helping him find Destiny, save his friends, and prevent the return of Nazeem, who was really a torivor named Ramarro. Before leaving the afterlife, Destiny’s power had been restored to her. And now it was speaking through her.
“We let the Enforcers take us to Owandell?” Cole checked.
“Yes, if we have any sense,” Honor said. “No good comes from trying to avoid Tessa’s prophecies.”
“We don’t resist at all?” Cole asked.
“We can try whatever we want after we meet with Owandell,” Honor said. “Until then we use patience.”
“It’s hard to be patient with a bag over your head,” Cole observed.
The wagon slowed to a stop.
“Are we there?” Cole asked.
“I don’t think so,” Honor said in a tone so hushed, Cole could barely hear her. “I’d have some access to my power if we were in Junction. They’re probably changing horses.”
Cole heard the clink and jangle of chains at the rear of the wagon.
“Play possum,” Honor suggested quietly.
Cole went limp as he heard doors open. The unsteady glow of torchlight flickered up through the bottom of his hood. Somebody was checking on the prisoners. Breathing softly, Cole stayed limp.
“Still there,” a gruff voice affirmed.
The door closed.
Harnesses jingled and hoofs clopped. A horse whickered. Shortly the wagon lurched forward.
“They’re in a hurry,” Honor said.
“I don’t want to see Owandell,” Tessa said in a voice nearly too small to hear.
Cole almost replied that her own power was to blame for their decision to go submissively before the head of the High King’s secret police. But since Owandell had used shapecraft—the ability to tamper with the shaping power itself—to take Destiny’s power when she was only nine and give it to her father, Cole decided sensitivity was required.
“You must hate him,” he said.
“Owandell scares me,” Tessa replied.
“He’ll hurt you again over my dead body,” Honor promised.
“That doesn’t comfort me,” Tessa said. “I don’t want to lose you.”
“Trust your power,” Cole said. “It helped save us in the echolands.”
“Knowing we should talk to Owandell doesn’t necessarily spare us from harm,” Honor said. “Terrible consequences could follow. Destiny’s prophecy could
simply mean that any efforts to escape would fail. Or it could mean the encounter with Owandell will produce outcomes that need to happen for some higher purpose. But serving a higher purpose is no guarantee of safety.”
“You’re not very comforting,” Cole said.
“Does our situation seem comfortable?” Honor challenged. “We all need to face reality.”
“What do you think they did with Desmond?” Tessa asked.
“He wasn’t a high enough priority to transfer him to Junction,” Honor said. “Hopefully, he’s just imprisoned back near the Temple of the Robust Sky.”
“What is our reality?” Cole asked. “Does Owandell want your powers again?”
“Perhaps,” Honor said. “Or else he wants us as hostages.”
“Can he take your powers?” Cole asked.
“He proved he has the ability,” Honor said. “We didn’t surrender them willingly the first time.”
“Is your father behind this?” Cole wondered. Assisted by Owandell, the High King had used shapecraft to steal the powers of his five daughters several decades ago. The absence of their shaping abilities had stopped the princesses from aging. Miracle, Honor, Constance, and Destiny all had their powers back now. Only their eldest sister, Elegance, still lacked her stolen abilities.
“Hard to say,” Honor said. “Though Owandell still works for Father, he doesn’t collaborate closely with him anymore, and is clearly carrying out his own schemes with Ramarro. We won’t know how much Father is involved until this unfolds.”
Cole frowned at the mention of Ramarro. Under the name Nazeem, the torivor had introduced shapecraft into the five kingdoms. Ramarro had just escaped his prison in the echolands, but with help from Cole, the torivor had been diverted to a prison in Creon when he reentered mortality.
“Owandell stole our powers for Father in the first place,” Honor said. “I expect Owandell will want to take them again. But I’m not going to resist Destiny’s foresight. When she speaks under the influence of her gift, I have never known her to be wrong.”
“How many of the Enforcers are loyal to your father?” Cole asked. “Could they be taking us to him?”
“Owandell has recently proven that he controls the majority of the Enforcers,” Honor said. “I’m sure there are some exceptions.”
“Where do we go if we escape him?” Cole asked.
“In the capital?” Honor asked. “We try to find Mother.”
Cole had met Harmony. She had helped him escape Junction the last time he visited. “Do you think she can help us find Mira?” Cole wondered.
“Probably,” Honor said. “I hope Mother can also direct us to Elegance. Our highest priority is to stop Ramarro, and we’ll need help from Wayminders. Mother has contacts in that community.”
Cole felt smothered by more than the hood covering his face. There was so much to be done! The prison where he had helped deposit Ramarro would not hold the torivor forever. It might only restrain him for weeks. Or even days. And if the torivor got free, the Outskirts would fall under his complete control. Not to mention that the torivor wanted revenge against Cole and his friends. The ancient shapers who had created the Outskirts had barely managed to contain Ramarro, and nobody was left who could defeat him. Cole had to find a way to prevent his escape.
And he needed to find his friends, especially Mira, Jace, and Dalton. And his brother, Hunter.
And he needed to rescue Jenna and the other kids who had been kidnapped into the Outskirts from his neighborhood in Arizona.
And he needed to restore Elegance’s power and defeat the High King.
And he was currently tied up in a prison wagon.
And his power didn’t work right anymore.
“Let’s survive Owandell first,” Cole said.
“He’s a powerful shapecrafter,” Honor warned. “He can block the shaping of others. And we know with enough time he can strip away their powers and give them to another.”
Cole temporarily wished he could return to the echolands, where he had gained so much power. Nobody in the echolands could chain him up and cart him around. Of course, it was also the last stop before moving on to the next phase of existence. Most people in the echolands were dead.
Cole was back in the living world, and he had to solve his problems here. Or at least try.
“I guess we just have to be patient for now,” Cole concluded.
“Save your strength,” Honor suggested. “We’ll need it before long.”
CHAPTER
2
OWANDELL
As the journey wore on, Cole had few options to improve his comfort. He rotated between lying on his stomach, his right side, his left side, and his back. He could not endure resting on his back for long because, with his wrists bound behind him, the position placed too much pressure on his arms. He tried sitting or kneeling from time to time, but that never felt very comfortable.
Cole tried to picture his home.
He had visited a realistic dream version of his room shortly before meeting She Who Stands at the Summit in the echolands. Some of those details still felt pretty fresh.
But riding his bike down his street? Eating breakfast at the kitchen table? A typical day of school? Those memories seemed like remote visions of another life.
A life far from prison wagons, and spiritual realms, and advanced robots, and magical powers. Far from exiled princesses and life-or-death combat.
Would he ever make it home?
Would he see his parents again? His sister?
Would he go to bed without wondering if enemies would capture him while he slept? Or kill him?
Maybe.
If he could survive this current predicament.
There had to be a chance. If Owandell simply wanted him dead, that would have happened while his spirit was in the echolands.
If Cole survived this, then he could work on the next problem.
And the next one.
He had survived a lot. Maybe he could keep on surviving.
One day at a time.
One crisis at a time.
But maybe at some point he wouldn’t survive.
Would that be so bad? He had seen there was life after death. He knew something about where he would end up.
And he had heard the call of the Other—the realm beyond the echolands. The call had been inviting.
Someday he would answer that call.
Hopefully not today. Or tomorrow. Or anytime soon.
He had too much to do.
How long had their unanimated bodies traveled in the wagon before he, Honor, and Tessa returned from the echolands? How many times had the teams been changed?
The road seemed smoother, the hoofbeats crisper. The wagon barely rattled.
The road must be paved. Or something similar.
“Are we nearing the capital?” Cole asked.
“We’re in Junction,” Honor replied. “I felt my powers go active half an hour ago.”
“Mine faded a little as we left Necronum,” Tessa said.
“Mine feel the same,” Cole said.
He tried to will the cords on his wrists to dissolve. Nothing happened. He could sense his power, but he couldn’t push it into the physical objects around him. Doing so had felt perfectly natural in the echolands!
Before long the wagon slowed and rounded a corner. The pace remained slow, and turning became frequent, until the wagon descended a short, steep incline, leveled out, and stopped.
Chains clinked at the rear of the wagon. Then the doors opened.
“On your feet,” the gruff voice ordered.
Staying limp, Cole held still. He heard no sound from the princesses.
“Come off it,” the voice said. “I heard you gabbing off and on for the past twenty miles. On your feet unless you want to be dragged.”
Cole heard the princesses stirring, so he stood up as well. It took some extra effort without the use of his hands. He wondered how much the man had heard. They hadn’t spoken loudly,
the wagon was enclosed, and the horses made noise. Hopefully, the driver had just caught an occasional murmur of conversation.
What if the driver had heard everything? Had they expressed anything compromising?
Cole heard someone approach. An iron collar clamped around his neck, fitting over the hood and drawing the cloth tighter against his face. Cole tried to keep his breathing calm. Air seemed to pass through the material well enough.
Near his feet, a key clicked inside a lock, and a manacle unfastened from one ankle. Then the other was removed. At least that was a relief.
Cole was suddenly tugged forward by the collar. It guided him forward, sideways, and then to a stop, suggesting that the collar was connected to a pole rather than a rope. Cole felt helplessly angry. Did they have to treat him like an animal? Were they afraid he would bite?
“Drop to the ground,” a hard voice commanded.
Probing ahead with his foot, Cole felt nothing but empty air. He must have been at the back of the wagon, and they wanted him to jump down. His inability to see made the prospect uncomfortable.
The opportunity to choose was taken from him as he was yanked forward by his collar. Hands bound behind his back, unable to gauge the arrival of the ground, Cole fell for an alarming moment and then stumbled upon impact. The collar pressed up against the underside of his jaw, stretching his neck as it kept him on his feet.
Cole didn’t hear anyone ordering the princesses to jump, so he assumed they were helped down more gently. Did they have collars too? Until now, Cole had been too distracted by what his captors were doing to him to heed any clues about Honor and Tessa.
The unrelenting collar pulled him forward. Others walked nearby. Cole stamped his feet. The level ground and the acoustics of his footfalls made him suspect he was in a room rather than outside.
He halted as murmured words were exchanged. A door opened.
“Honor?” Cole tried.
“Silence,” a harsh voice demanded. Whoever held the pole attached to his collar gave it a jolting shake.
“We’re here,” Honor answered from not far behind him.
“No more words or I start really hurting the boy,” the harsh voice threatened.
For a moment Cole forgot the plan to go quietly. He could feel his power inside. Using his anger and frustration to sharpen his focus, he tried to push his power into the collar around his neck. In the echolands, when engaging his power, he could feel the target object without touching it. Here, though he could feel the weight of the collar around his neck, he could not touch it with his power.
