by Brandon Mull
That reminded Cole.
“Elegance,” he said. “I need to wake up your power. It’s important.”
“All right,” she responded.
Cole found the dead ember at her center and flooded it with energy until it blazed to life. When finished, he kept the connection.
Elegance gazed at Cole in astonishment. “How did you do that?”
“It’s part of my ability,” Cole said.
Violet gestured at another wayport. “This will take us to the middle of the cache, where Lorenzo expects Ramarro to appear.”
Cole had almost forgotten that Lorenzo had taught Violet how to use the conduits at the cache. He went through first this time.
Cole emerged at the square in the center of the cache where he had faced Ramarro before. The pendant already hovered in the middle of the square, shedding white radiance.
“Greetings, Cole,” Brogan welcomed him. “Beautiful day to save the world, am I right?”
Cole smiled. As the others came through, the ground began to tremble. Violet stepped from the wayport, and it closed.
The rumbling increased in volume, and the ground quaked harder. The pendant glowed more intensely. Cole staggered along with the others. Dalton sat down, and soon everyone followed his example.
Cole found himself between Violet and Jenna. He focused on connecting to the powers of those around him. He had Elegance and Violet already. He connected to Honor. Then Jenna. Then Mira. Then Harmony. Then Dalton.
Cole realized he had never connected to a weapon like the Jumping Sword or golden rope without touching it. Would weapons have a center like a person? Hopefully. Right now, no shaped weapons were present, so it was too late to experiment.
With a brilliant flash and a thunderous roar, the pendant shattered. Ramarro appeared—a tall, robed albino with a grin like a shark. He looked just as Cole remembered.
The rumbling had ceased. The ground was still.
Cole stood up. His friends followed his lead.
“You got out,” Cole said.
“It was only a matter of time,” Ramarro said. “Cole, of course you are here. You brought a little entourage.” He gnashed his teeth. “The Grand Shaper. Kezlyn Vedor. Not even an old one. The incumbent. And Queen Harmony. Elegance, the eldest princess. Her sisters Miracle and Honor. A few others of lesser consequence. This is it? Have you come to surrender?”
“We’re going to stop you,” Cole said.
“I don’t like your weapons,” Ramarro said, waving a hand. The weapons Cole and his comrades held dissolved into dust. “This is insulting. And embarrassing.”
The Perennial Serpent appeared off to one side of the square. Beside the huge snake stood a man in a black, cowled robe. He threw back his hood, revealing himself as Owandell. “Welcome, master.”
“Owandell,” Ramarro said. “You brought a pet. You are alone?”
“I am here to learn your will,” Owandell said.
After a moment of effort, Cole connected to the nexus of the Perennial Serpent. He linked the power to Elegance and started a torrential flow. Tail swishing, head flailing, the serpent began to shrink.
“What has he done to Peya?” Owandell shouted. “Stop him!”
“I prefer servants who can defend themselves,” Ramarro said.
“Sword,” Cole muttered to Violet.
A wayport opened beside him. Reaching through, Cole grabbed the Jumping Sword off the table in the desert. He energized it and flooded the weapon with power.
The hilt was growing warm as Cole overloaded the sword with energy. He pointed it at Owandell and at the last moment tried something new—he disconnected the weapon from the attachment to his body.
“Away!” Cole shouted, releasing the weapon.
The sword flew from his hand faster than an arrow from a bow, streaked through the air, and plunged into Owandell’s chest so deep that the hilt disappeared. After staggering back, Owandell stood still for a moment, naked astonishment apparent. He dropped to his knees and extended a shaky hand toward Ramarro.
The Perennial Serpent had shrunk down to barely a foot in length. Ramarro strode forward and crushed its head.
Owandell fell forward, flat on his face, the blade of the Jumping Sword protruding from his back. A hand twitched, and then he became still.
“That was remarkably efficient,” Ramarro said to Cole.
“Thanks,” Cole said. “I’ve never used the Jumping Sword that way before.”
A wayport appeared on the other side of the square. Lorenzo Debray emerged with a pair of other Wayminders.
“Finally,” Ramarro said. “A few of the old guard. But where is Kendo? I see. He departed at last. A final gesture of cowardice. Very well.” He took a deep breath. “I was held captive for a long time. Uncomfortably long—and I’m eternal. Certain types of suspense do not exist in eternity. Well, as was inevitable, your prisons have failed; your chains have broken; your walls have crumbled. Is this to be a fight or a conversation? Who among you is ready to unconditionally surrender?”
“We bring another option,” Lorenzo said. He assumed an awkward stance and closed his eyes. The Wayminders with him struck poses of their own.
“What is this?” Ramarro asked. “Ah, not an attack. A demonstration?”
A large, round wayport opened, the edges swirling.
“We are the protectors of this world,” Lorenzo declared. “We may lack the power to defeat you in combat. But we can offer you an alternative.” He extended a hand toward the wayport. “This way leads to Earth, a larger, more firmly established world than ours. It has a far greater population and connects to a vast system of worlds and stars and space.”
“No!” Cole cried, unable to believe what he was seeing and hearing. How could Lorenzo betray an entire world? Didn’t he know the strategy was flawed? Ramarro would now dominate two worlds instead of one!
Cole reached for Lorenzo’s center and found it.
And then the connection was severed.
“Leave him be,” Ramarro said. “These Wayminders are under my protection.”
Ramarro stalked over to the wayport. “The Pilgrim Path,” the torivor said, looking down the misty corridor.
Cole desperately reached out for Ramarro, trying to connect to his power, hunting for a center.
“Would you like to contend directly with me?” Ramarro asked, extending a hand toward Cole.
Cole stared. He remembered what it had been like to connect to Ramarro before. There had to be some other way.
Ramarro scowled. “You have done this before. Faced me before. Lived this moment before.” He stared intently at Cole. “When? How?”
Cole tried unsuccessfully not to think about it.
“A hypothetical future,” Ramarro said. “You had time to prepare for our present encounter.” He turned to the wayport. “And this is all suspiciously convenient.”
Ramarro stared intently at Lorenzo. Then at Cole. Then at Violet.
“Her too,” Ramarro said.
“What?” Cole asked.
“Trillian,” Ramarro said, his voice very calm. “Your memories are not genuine, Cole. Would you like the real ones back?”
Suddenly Cole remembered the whole plan. The Pilgrim Path would leave Ramarro powerless if he walked it. Trillian had planted other thoughts to trick Ramarro.
“Oh no,” Cole said, realizing their best chance had been thwarted.
“Want your memories, Lorenzo?” Ramarro asked. “Violet? You may as well join us in reality. Can we revisit the opportunity to surrender? I will offer each of you who kneel to me prominent positions in my service.”
“None of us will kneel,” Cole said.
One of the guards from the Iron Fort dropped to one knee.
“He’s not really with us,” Cole clarified.
“You cannot stand against me,” Ramarro said. “It is a challenge to adequately express your doom. You are little more than figments of my imagination.”
“If you’re so p
owerful, bring back Twitch,” Cole said. In their hypothetical encounter, Ramarro had retrieved Jace and Mira from where the Perennial Serpent had sent them. He wondered if Ramarro could track down his friend who had been lost for a longer time.
“It would be a simple matter of tracing the history of Elegance’s power,” Ramarro said. He stared at Elegance for a moment.
Jenna stepped up beside Cole and whispered, “I need extra power.”
Cole funneled a larger share of energy into her. He could feel her using what he sent, so he pushed harder.
Twitch appeared a few paces in front of Cole. His clothes were dirtier than when Cole had last seen him. He looked bewildered until he met eyes with Cole.
“I’m back,” Twitch said.
“There is little I cannot do,” Ramarro said. “I could kill him quicker than you can blink.”
“Oh no,” Twitch muttered. “Is that . . . ?”
“Ramarro,” Cole supplied.
“Do not be confused,” Ramarro said. “This is not really a fight. I could destroy everyone here more easily than taking a step. Your battle against me ended the moment I got free.”
“Why not destroy us?” Cole asked.
“Destroying this world would be satisfying,” Ramarro said. “Ruling it will be more interesting. You are currently alive because I would prefer interesting subjects to dull ones. But my rule will be absolute. All who will not serve me must perish.”
Dandalus appeared beside Violet, not far from Cole, looking almost alive, his form only slightly transparent. “I wondered if I would live to see this day,” Dandalus said.
“You didn’t,” Ramarro replied.
“And yet here I am,” Dandalus said.
“An echo,” Ramarro said. “I am glad you are here to witness this.”
Dandalus held up both hands toward Ramarro, then leaned down and whispered something to Violet. Cole made sure she had plenty of power.
“Secrets are impolite,” Ramarro said, an edge of impatience in his voice.
“Listening in is even less polite,” Dandalus said, walking over to Cole. He leaned close and whispered, “Go through the wayport Violet opens. Trust me. You must get away.”
“I grow impatient,” Ramarro warned. “Don’t tempt me, Dandalus, or I will place your echo into a nightmare stasis where—”
“Try it,” Dandalus said.
A wayport opened in front of Cole.
“Go, Cole,” Dandalus urged.
Ramarro reached toward Cole, and sparks erupted in the air, spreading out across the surface of an invisible wall. Dandalus grunted and trembled. “Go.”
“Don’t you dare—” Ramarro began.
Cole heard no more, because he sprang forward through the wayport.
CHAPTER
33
COLE
Cole stood in the deserted courtyard of a castle.
He knew this courtyard!
He knew this castle!
“SURVIVE THE TRIAL TO OBTAIN THE REWARD,” an enormous voice declared, emanating from the castle itself.
The wayport closed behind him.
All his connections to the others were cut. He had been feeding power so steadily to so many people that the loss felt incredibly abrupt. What would they do without him? He had just stranded most of his favorite people with an angry torivor.
And now he stood alone, drifting on a sentient sky castle, with the Eastern Cloudwall looming not too far away. He had no way off the castle unless a skycraft happened by. Or unless Violet or another Wayminder chose to visit.
He hoped Dandalus had a plan.
Statues great and small began to emerge from the walls of the courtyard. Some surfaced out of the ground. All converged toward him.
Reaching out, Cole could feel them. Drawing on his power, with an effort of will, he blasted the nearest figures into gravel.
“Stop,” Cole ordered. “I’m Cole. This castle was made for me.”
The statues came to a halt. All signs of animation departed.
“I haven’t been here before,” Cole continued. “I went to one just like it. I guess these castles keep appearing?”
Perhaps ten paces away, Ramarro materialized.
“Peculiar destination,” the torivor said. “Why flee here? This exhibition of derelict castles did not exist when I first came to the Outskirts. I have heard of it since. Never visited. Did Dandalus think you would escape me here? Did he expect me to follow? It makes sense for us to converse alone.”
“Does it?” Cole asked.
“You could save your friends,” Ramarro said. “They follow your lead. If you ask them to die, they will. To what end? I will govern the Outskirts with or without your help. If you live, you can advocate on behalf of those I rule. Dead, you can do nothing. This is your last chance. No more stalling. No place left to run. You can order your friends to die. Or you can spare them. It all depends on you.”
“I won’t kill them,” Cole said. “You will.”
Ramarro shrugged. “You could stop it. Or not. I am losing interest.”
“I’m never going to serve you,” Cole said. “Neither will they.”
“That keeps it simple,” Ramarro said. “Should I just let you drift to oblivion on this castle? I can keep an eye on it, make sure nobody comes or goes. Would you prefer the suspense of a few more minutes? The illusion of hope? Or how about a clean death? Quick and painless. Perhaps I could lock you in the Void. I escaped it. You would not. Should I store you there? Let you hover in an endless stasis as your sanity unravels across the eons?”
Cole looked at the motionless statues spaced around the courtyard. Some had frozen while still separating from the ground or the walls.
“Don’t be a fool,” Ramarro said.
“Get him!” Cole shouted. In unison, the stone figures charged Ramarro. More issued from the walls and ground. Bearded warriors raced alongside graceful ballerinas—Cole recognized several of them from his previous visit to the similar sky castle.
Ramarro waved a casual hand at the nearest statues. They wobbled but kept coming. He held a hand up as if commanding them to halt. Those directly before him slowed. The others continued toward him at their normal pace.
A statue of Dandalus rose up from the ground beside Cole. “This is your battleground, Cole,” the statue said hurriedly, his voice low. “This is the one place you might defeat the torivor. The elements of this island were designed to resist his commands and to follow yours. The island will try to hold him here. It’s no sure thing, but perhaps it gives you a chance. Do not let him escape. If you don’t win here, you will fail.”
Ramarro was now engaging the statues in physical combat. With fluid grace, he moved as if the fight had been choreographed to showcase his excellence. He dodged every attack, disarming opponents and then using their weapons against them. Ruthlessly efficient, he moved much quicker than an ordinary mortal could have managed. With each statue dodged, shoved aside, or destroyed, Ramarro worked his way toward Cole.
“Contain him!” the Dandalus statue cried. “Protect Cole! The enemy is in our midst!”
Walls shot up around Ramarro, shielding him from view. A large slab of stone erupted from the ground and landed atop the walls, forming the top of a huge stone box.
Was this your plan? Ramarro asked, the words searing into Cole’s mind. Lure me into one last trap? None of his traps ever killed me, Cole. And his prisons all failed to hold me. This pathetic trick planned from beyond his grave will soon crumble. If I lay still, nothing here could begin to hurt me. I see that everything here was designed to attack and resist me. And it will. Until I retune it. Until I create it anew. Get ready, Cole. You’re about to learn what happens when you choose the wrong allies.
The front of the stone box exploded outward. Several stone fragments whistling toward Cole turned to dust before reaching him. Ramarro raced from the box, hurling statues aside. More walls sprang up around him, trapping him in another stone box, but it only held for a moment bef
ore all the walls exploded outward. Once again, the debris streaking toward Cole evaporated.
Slamming statues out of his way, Ramarro charged forward. Cole was backing up, but Ramarro would soon reach him. Reaching out with his power, Cole grabbed the statues surrounding Ramarro and thrust them at him from all directions. Many of the statues shattered as they collided with Ramarro and crashed into one another. The brutal impact made the torivor stagger.
“Maximum effort!” the Dandalus statue called.
The ground shifted beneath Cole as the entire castle accelerated toward the Eastern Cloudwall. Statues emerged from the walls and ground more rapidly. Other statues merged to form larger ones. Soon none were smaller than Ramarro. Many were bigger. And they were fast. Almost as fast as him.
As Cole kept backing away, he realized that if the castle had attacked him and his friends like this, they would not have lasted more than a few seconds. But though Ramarro was fighting harder, he showed no vulnerability. The occasional weapon that struck him broke apart. And he continued to destroy or dodge statues despite the increased tempo of the brawl.
You will pay for this, Ramarro vowed directly to Cole’s mind. No clean death for you. I will wring agony from you for ages.
Cole took some consolation from the threats. Ramarro was struggling. Though scary, the threats were also evidence of frustration.
Cole bashed more statues together around Ramarro. The material of the statues felt eager to comply. Those statues shattered by the impact promptly reformed and kept attacking. Ramarro was slowed by the press, and Cole continued to retreat.
The cloudwall filled the sky ahead of the castle, approaching rapidly. As he considered the increased pace of the sky castle, Cole realized the plan.
The vortex within the cloudwall.
Vortex? The word penetrated his thoughts. What vortex?
Cole tried not to think of the gigantic vortex behind the cloudwall, and so of course he pictured it vividly. Peering into the whirling maelstrom was like gazing down into a tornado with a mouth as wide as a football stadium. He remembered how the howling experience inside the slipstream in the echolands had reminded him of the violent funnel. Like a cosmic drain, the vortex devoured the endless parade of sky castles flowing into it.
