Free Death Weavers by Brandon Mull Page B

paused. How long before she would forget meeting him?
    He counted to ten in his head, then returned to her.
    â€œWhat have we here?” she asked, sizing him up. “An imprint, I take it?”
    â€œI’m a person,” Cole said. “I just came in. We spoke a short time ago.”
    The woman broke eye contact and stared at the cave floor. “Did we?” she asked with an embarrassed smile. “Funny how the mind works in here.” She gazed at him suspiciously. “I don’t recall you.”
    â€œIt’s okay,” Cole said, backing away. “I have one of those faces. Very, um, forgettable.”
    Her eyes narrowed. “Are you pulling my leg? Did we really speak?”
    â€œSorry,” Cole said, not wanting to upset her. “Maybe I’m mistaken.”
    â€œSome of you are devils,” she replied huffily. “Not fair to play with a person’s mind. Not when they’re alone in a cave.”
    â€œAgain, sorry,” Cole said, returning to the red tunnel and passing out of view. The ground sloped slightly down ahead of him.
    Cole took comfort that the woman wouldn’t be confused for long. She would forget him all over again. He tried to imagine how it would feel to forget everything after it happened. Life would be disorienting. Then again, having no sense for how long he had been there would be merciful if he was stuck in a cave forever.
    Cole glanced back. Should he be marking his way? Should he have brought more provisions than a water flask? Maybe some rope. He might not need food if he was quick. If his mission took too long, he could always go back and resupply. And if the woman’s trick to find the entrance failed, he could probably get directions from imprints. Determined to find Destiny sooner rather than later, Cole quickened his pace.

C HAPTER
7
MEMORIES
    C ole considered some of the benefits of the imprints making no new memories. For one thing, it meant that his conversations would be forgotten. His inquiries would leave no tracks, and if an interaction went badly, he could go away, come back, and have another try.
    That meant he was free to ask for help from any imprints he met. None of them would remember any tips they shared. Only the imprint Cole left behind would know about the imprints he met and the conversations they had. Knowing a version of himself would remain behind, Cole resolved that once he became that imprint, he would keep silent to anyone who tried to pry any information from him. When the time came, he would find a secluded corner of the cave and slip into blissful forgetfulness.
    Many of the people who entered the Cave of Memory with important information would probably do likewise. They would want to limit the interactions their imprints had with others. He would have to check all the nooks and crannies and follow tunnels to the end.
    One big problem was the other live people.
    There were almost certainly at least two other humans in the cave. Maybe more—not everyone had to arrive on horseback.
    If not for the other people, Cole realized he could shamelessly roam the cave calling out to Destiny. The imprints who heard him would forget before long, and any who might help him would be drawn to him. It could really speed up the search.
    Of course, if she was trying to hide, calling to Destiny might drive her away. He had a feeling that whatever tactics he tried, finding her was going to be a chore.
    The cavern widened into a long chamber with several branching passages, each lit by a different color, this time orange, green, yellow, white, and blue. The chamber itself was illuminated by the light spilling from the various tunnels. At the far end of the chamber, a man sat on a rock. His black hair was slicked back, forming a slight widow’s peak, and a dark, narrow beard followed the lines of his jaw and surrounded his mouth. He had rings on his fingers and elaborate clothes covered by a rich cape. Cole thought he