“Now I know what a fly feels like,” Rollan gasped as he tried to protect Essix’s feathers from the web.
When they were completely trapped and all five of them had fallen to the ground in one squirming, web-covered lump, Meilin saw dark shapes emerging from the trees. They were dressed in black, with the distinctive brass collars and wrist-guards. One of them was unusually tall and thin, with parchment-pale skin and deep-set eyes. Gripping his bony shoulder with huge talons was a hunched, black-feathered bird with a cruelly hooked beak and a wrinkled red head.
“That’s Wikam the Just,” Meilin heard Anka whisper. “One of the Oathbound’s leaders. His spirit animal is a vulture, and it’s a lot more dangerous than it looks. Listen,” she went on quickly, “Wikam is not to be trifled with. His name might be Just, but he will not treat you fairly. Don’t even bother trying to argue with him.”
“I suppose you mean me,” Rollan muttered.
“Shhhh,” Anka hissed, sounding worried.
One of the other Oathbound gave a signal, and the swarm of spiders skittered off into the forest—except for one spider, his spirit animal, which scurried up his body to perch on his shoulder. The spider was small, brown, and furry—and really, Meilin had to admit to herself, nothing at all like a mouse. The moonlight glinted from its many-faceted eyes.
Wikam the Just folded his long arms and looked them over. “Well, well, well,” he said in a deep voice that sounded like it was speaking to them from the other end of a cavern. “Look at you wiggle, little Greencloaks. But we’ve got you now. You will face your punishment for attacking the leaders of Erdas.”
“But we didn’t do it!” Meilin protested.
“You know something?” Wikam sneered. “I actually believe you.” The Oathbound soldier leaned casually against a tree, his eyes sparkling with cruel amusement. “I just don’t care. You could be as innocent as … well, as children. I’m going to bring you in anyway, and earn the glory for your arrest. You’ll be put on trial for assassinating the Emperor of Zhong. And when you are convicted—which you will be, after I reveal to the leaders that you confessed your heinous crimes to me—the penalty will be death.”
DURING THE FINAL BATTLE AGAINST THE WYRM, THE Redcloaks’ polar ice fortress, the Place of Desolation, had been rendered uninhabitable. Its lava tubes and mysterious markings from the Hellans were all gone now.
Ever since then, Stead, who had taken over as the leader of the Redcloaks after Shane’s death, had been looking for a new place to make their headquarters. After scouting a few likely locations, he had decided to build a high tower on a remote beach on the south coast of Eura. Anybody who climbed to its very top could look out over the ocean and see the Greencloaks’ castle on the island of Greenhaven, way in the distance.
Yes, Worthy had been up there. He was pretty sure that Stead’s choice of a new location, and its view of Greenhaven, meant something. The Redcloaks were outcasts, and Stead wanted back in.
Well, that wasn’t going to happen, Worthy felt sure. All any of them needed to do was look into a mirror to know why.
And yeah, he wanted in, too, though at the same time he rather liked his slit-pupiled golden eyes, not to mention the muscles he’d put on since he and his black panther spirit animal had merged. The retractable claws were good, too.
Still, Worthy saw Stead’s point. Every one of the Redcloaks had made mistakes. Their late, great leader, Shane, had given them a reason for being—to redeem themselves. And according to Stead, despite their honorable fight against the Wyrm, they weren’t done yet.
Stead stood on the wide, sandy beach, watching the workers he had hired putting a few last touches on the tower. It was built of sand-colored stone, with a roof of hammered copper that glowed flame-bright in the setting sun. It was so bright that anybody standing on the walls of Greenhaven and looking in this direction could probably see it, shining like a torch across the water.
Maybe that was the point.
“Hey, I know what you should name the tower,” Worthy suggested. “The Torch.”
Stead didn’t answer. He looked all heroic, with his mask in place and his red cloak curling around his legs in the sharp breeze off the ocean. Waves crashed against the sand, and seabirds circled overhead. At Stead’s feet, Yumaris squatted, picking with gnarled fingers through a pile of seaweed and shells that smelled like dead fish. She couldn’t see what she was doing—she was more worm than human, really—but she sniffed at the sand and nibbled at the seaweed and seemed perfectly content.
Unlike Worthy. He sighed loudly, waiting for Stead to tell him why he’d been summoned. But Stead was becoming more and more like the spirit animal that was now part of him—as stubborn and hardheaded as a ram.
As if sensing Worthy’s impatience, Stead looked over at him. Worthy caught a glimpse through the mask of Stead’s odd, rectangular pupils.
“I’ve had some reports,” Stead began.
Here we go, Worthy thought. He folded his arms and prepared to listen.
“The leaders of the four lands have come out of hiding,” Stead said. “A few days ago, they gathered for a meeting at the old Citadel, on the border of Eura and Zhong.”
“Yep!” Yumaris put in happily.
Worthy glanced down at the eyeless old woman. She was knotting bits of shell into her long, gray-white hair. Grinning with her toothless mouth, she draped a long scarf of seaweed over her shoulders.
“Very nice,” Worthy said to her.
In response, she cackled and then threw a handful of sand in his general direction.
Stead went on. “The reports say that something went wrong at the meeting. The Greencloaks attacked the leaders, an act of terrible betrayal. The Ambassador from Stetriol was wounded, and the Emperor of Zhong was killed.”
Wait, what? “The Greencloaks did this?” Worthy interrupted.
“Of course not,” Stead said impatiently. “According to my sources, the attackers had only recently joined the Greencloaks. Clearly they joined intending to carry out the attack. And now the leaders of Erdas are convinced that all Greencloaks are criminals. They have ordered their Oathbound to track down and arrest every single Greencloak left out in the world.” He pointed toward the island of Greenhaven. “Once they’re captured, they’ll be brought to their castle and imprisoned, and then they will all be put on trial.”
Worthy felt a twinge of uneasiness. “So who set them up? Who wants to destroy the Greencloaks?”
Stead shrugged. “No idea. One of the leaders, perhaps? The Greencloaks have plenty of enemies, especially after so many of them fell to the Wyrm. They still have enemies in Stetriol, too, people who feel as Shane once did, that the Greencloaks were to blame for years of suffering by those who called spirit animals and didn’t have the Nectar to ease the formation of the bond. So you see, Worthy, it could be anyone. Even a fellow Greencloak gone rogue.”
“Or a Redcloak?” Worthy suggested.
“No,” Stead said flatly. “Definitely not.”
Worthy shrugged. As far as he could see, anybody was capable of anything. He wouldn’t count out one of the Redcloaks until he was absolutely certain. “So what do you want me to do?”
Stead nodded. “Our favorite group of young Greencloaks managed to escape the Citadel without being captured.”
Worthy felt his uneasiness growing. “You mean Conor and the other three?”
“Yes, the Heroes of Erdas,” Stead answered. “I want you to help them.”
“But they hate me,” Worthy protested. At least Conor did, and he had good reasons for it, too.
“Make them trust you,” Stead countered.
Worthy shook his head. “They are never going to trust me.” When Stead didn’t comment, Worthy went on, “I mean it. Never. Not ever. You’ve picked the wrong person for this mission.”
Behind his mask, Stead narrowed his eyes. “Think of it this way, Worthy: It’s your chance to be the good guy. The rescuer.”
Oh, Stead was good. He knew exactly
what Worthy wanted—what he had always wanted, from before the time he’d failed to summon a spirit animal at his Nectar Ceremony. He wanted to be the hero. Like … well, like Conor, who had been his servant, who he had treated as badly as he could get away with. Conor, who had summoned one of the Great Beasts and had gone from being a shepherd to becoming one of the Four Heroes of Erdas. “What would I have to do?” Worthy asked.
“Find the kids,” Stead answered. “They probably think they’ve escaped, and they’re wrong about that. They need to know that the Oathbound are rounding up all the Greencloaks in the world. Tell them what you know about the gifts. Help them.”
“I don’t know anything about any gifts,” Worthy said blankly.
“Yumaris says otherwise,” Stead said. “But you’re right, nobody knows much about them. The ancient Greencloaks had a nasty habit of wiping out any information they thought was too dangerous. The gifts have apparently been lost for many years. But it’s time they were found.” He pointed at Yumaris. “She had a vision of you and the gifts, and now she will tell you about them.”
Worthy groaned. “She’ll tell me all about the consistency of dirt particles, is what.” He glared at Yumaris.
She grinned up at him. “Gifts!” she said happily. “Rock and claw! Circle! And that other thingie!”
“Thingie,” Worthy muttered. “So helpful. Thank you so much.” Then he shrugged. He was a Redcloak, and Stead was his leader, and maybe this was his chance to finally prove that he was worthy in more than just name.
And … claw. Hmm. He just might know something about that. “All right,” Worthy agreed, nodding at Stead. “I’ll do it. What will you be doing in the meantime?”
“The Oathbound serve the leaders of Erdas,” Stead answered. “Their intentions are honorable, but they’re wrong about the Greencloaks. They’re being manipulated by someone else. Just in case, we’re going to need a larger force. I’ll be gathering the rest of the Redcloaks, so we’re ready to protect the Greencloaks if we have to.”
Worthy had to admit that it sounded like a good plan. “Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll go find the Four Heroes. And whether they trust me or not, I’ll make sure they’re not captured. And I’ll help them with the rock, the claw, the circle, and … ” He glared at Yumaris. “With the other thingie.”
“I FEEL CLOSER TO YOU ALL THAN I’VE EVER FELT BEFORE,” Rollan said in a muffled voice.
“Rollan, your elbow is in my face,” Abeke complained.
“I would say that I’m sorry,” he answered, “except that your knee is up my nose.”
“Stop wiggling,” Anka grumbled. “It’s just making it worse.”
All five of the Greencloaks lay in a heap on the pine-needled ground. They were wrapped tightly together in the sticky spiderweb.
Most of the Oathbound had gone to fetch a wagon to transport the captured Greencloaks back to the Citadel, leaving the Marked man with the spider spirit animal and one other Oathbound on guard.
“Conor,” Meilin whispered. “See if you can reach the knife on Rollan’s belt.”
“All right,” he whispered back, and groped with his hand. He felt the grip of the knife with the tips of his fingers, but he was too entangled in web to reach it. Anyway, one knife would not be enough to cut them free of the web.
There was only one way out of this. From where Conor lay, tightly bound up with the others, he could see both of the Oathbound a few paces away, leaning against a tree.
“Listen,” Conor whispered. The three other kids and Anka fell silent. “We have to escape now, before Wikam the Just—”
“The Unjust,” Rollan interrupted.
“Right, Wikam the Unjust,” Conor went on. “We have to escape before he gets back with the wagon. On the count of three, we’ll all call our spirit animals at the same time and break out of this web.”
“One,” Meilin whispered.
“Two,” Abeke added.
“Three,” Rollan shouted.
Jhi burst from the passive state, tearing through the web that wrapped Meilin like it was tissue paper.
At the same moment, Uraza leaped forth, and her sharp claws shredded the web entangling Abeke.
And Briggan snarled, ripping the web away from Conor, who rolled free and jumped to his feet, pulling out his ax, ready to fight.
The Oathbound guards shouted; one of them drew her sword and the other snatched the spider from his shoulder and threw it at them. Sticky threads unfurled behind it, settling over Rollan, who was trying to struggle out of the net that had covered them before. Essix was still tangled, no help to him. Anka was fighting the web that covered her and her chameleon, too.
Drawing her sword, Meilin charged to meet the Oathbound guard, blocking her attack. Reversing the sword, Meilin struck with the pommel, knocking the guard unconscious; then she whirled and knelt beside Rollan, pulling the layers of web away from him. As they dried, the spider threads had become less sticky, but the kids all had rags of web clinging to them.
“Thank you, My Lady Panda,” Rollan gasped as he finally broke free, still cradling Essix in his arms.
Abeke nocked her one remaining arrow and trained it on the Marked Oathbound, who stood with his hands raised in surrender. His spider had retreated into a pocket on the front of his uniform; Conor could see a brown, furry leg peeking out.
“Ugh, spiders,” Rollan said, trying to free Essix’s wing from the sticky threads without damaging her feathers. “One crawled right across my face.” He shuddered.
“Just think of them as mice,” Meilin advised him.
“Mice? Seriously?” Rollan shot back.
She gave him a smug nod. “That’s what I do.”
“I don’t want a mouse walking over my face, either,” Rollan muttered. In his arms, Essix shrieked out a protest at being trapped. “All right, I’ll get you untangled,” Rollan said to her. “Just hold still.”
Finally, Anka freed herself from the last of the web. She had turned silvery white, like the strands that had covered her. “The rest of the Oathbound will be back soon,” she said sharply as her skin, hair, and clothes darkened to match the color of the forest. “Let’s get out of here.”
They ran.
Conor had thought before that he was too tired go any farther. But as the sun came up, he found himself with the others, stumbling to a halt at the edge of a port town.
During the night they’d outdistanced their pursuers. Once they found a ship and left Eura and the Oathbound behind, they could begin their quest to find all four of the gifts. And he would be free to sleep.
Without nightmares, he hoped.
With Anka keeping them unnoticed, they slipped into the town, heading for the docks. There, Anka booked them passage on a ship bound for Amaya, paying the captain extra to finish loading their goods quickly, so they could catch the next tide. She hustled the kids onboard. They only had enough money for one cabin with two hammocks in it, so they would have to take turns sleeping.
They stood now, checking out their cabin. “The hammocks sort of remind me of spiderwebs,” Rollan observed. “Creepy. I’m never going to fall asleep wrapped up in one of those things.”
“Some of us aren’t afraid of spiders,” Meilin told him.
“Uh-huh,” Rollan said skeptically.
As they took off their boots and weapons, he ran his fingers up the back of Meilin’s neck. “Spider!” he warned.
She flinched and swatted, then turned red as she realized that she’d betrayed her fear.
“Mouse, I mean,” Rollan teased.
Meilin folded her arms and glared at him.
“A cute, little, fluffy, brown mouse,” Rollan went on, grinning, and Meilin gave in, laughing.
“You sleep first,” Abeke said to Conor. She’d been keeping an eye on him, ever since their conversation in the Citadel. He remembered what she had said—that he was her truest friend. And what Olvan had warned as the stone viper venom had taken him—stay true to each other. Conor was determine
d to be as true and worthy a friend to Abeke as she was to him.
With a nod of thanks, Conor climbed wearily into the hammock, which swung to the side as the ship turned into the wind, heading out to sea. The one porthole in their cabin showed the afternoon sun glinting on the surface of the water and the port town receding into the distance. They were safely away. The Oathbound would never catch them now. They’d have to go back to the Citadel and guard the leaders of Erdas, as was their duty.
Rollan had climbed into the other hammock. He’d spent the night running while trying to free Essix’s feathers from the sticky spiderweb. Finally the falcon had stopped struggling and had gone into passive state, but Conor knew his friend was almost as tired as he was.
Uraza, who hated being at sea, was in passive state, and so was Briggan. Jhi had settled in a corner, filling a quarter of the cabin’s space with her calm, healing presence. Meilin and Abeke sat on the deck, leaning back against the panda.
Anka was nowhere to be seen, but unless she moved, Conor tended to lose track of her. He figured she was in the cabin somewhere.
His hammock swung gently back and forth as the ship cut through the waves. Sleepily, Conor listened to Meilin and Abeke’s quiet conversation as they shared out a meal of ship’s biscuit and dried apples.
From the other hammock came the faint sound of Rollan, sound asleep, snoring.
“Rollan probably never had a bad dream in his life,” Meilin said. Conor could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke about him.
“I bet he dreams about Tarik,” he heard Abeke say.
“Yes, you’re probably right,” Meilin agreed.
There was a silent moment. “I have nightmares, too, once in a while,” Abeke said softly.
“About what?” Meilin mumbled through a bite of biscuit.
Abeke’s voice sounded sad. “Losing Uraza. And that moment when she attacked me. I was so afraid. Of her. If Shane hadn’t stepped in, Uraza would have killed me.”
“You’re not afraid anymore, are you?” Meilin asked.
Heart of the Land Page 6
