The Wildcat's Claw

by Varian Johnson

  “I’m sorry!” Abeke laughed, hugging Uraza around the neck. “I know you don’t like the water. I just couldn’t help myself.”

  She turned around. Worthy sat on a log behind her. She wondered if he’d been watching her the entire time.

  “I could never understand what he saw in you,” Worthy said. “I thought you all were just self-righteous brats. But now that I’ve spent some time with you, I can see why he liked you so much.”

  Abeke didn’t need to ask who he was. She rose from the river, wiping her hands on her clothes. “What is this river called?” she asked, trying to change the subject.

  “I believe this is a small tributary of the Adunder, one of the widest and longest rivers in Eura,” Worthy said. “It starts at the Petral Mountains and continues all the way to the coast.” He hopped from his log and took a drink of water as well. Abeke noticed that he drank it like Uraza, on all fours with his face close to the water.

  He stood and wiped his face. “Want me to knock down a tree for us to use as a bridge?”

  Abeke smiled. “No, I have a better idea. Come on, Uraza.” Abeke and the Great Leopard backed up from the river, then exploded down the trail. Abeke felt the leopard’s power flowing between them. Her legs felt stronger, her steps surer. She resisted the urge to roar as she planted her foot and took off in a leap across the water, her limbs spinning in the air. Uraza was right beside her, the leopard’s body long and sleek in the nighttime sky. They landed together, their feet clearing the muddy banks. They turned to see Worthy on the other side. Slowly, he clapped his hands.

  “Do you want us to cut down a tree for you?” Abeke asked.

  He shook his head. “I’ll find my own way across.” Dropping into a squat, he lunged for the nearest tree. His claws sank into the dark wood as he moved higher into the air. He then leaped onto a nearby branch. Thin and wiry, it looked too small to hold his weight. But Abeke quickly realized what Worthy was doing. Using the branch like a rope, he swung from tree to tree, his cloak billowing behind him as he crossed the river.

  He performed a triple somersault before landing beside Abeke. She rolled her eyes, but still clapped for him.

  “Shane also mentioned you were a great acrobat,” he said.

  Abeke sighed. Maybe it would be good to talk about him, she told herself. She often wanted to, but always felt uncomfortable when bringing him up around the other Greencloaks. She had forgiven him for betraying them, but the others had not. And in Rollan’s case, she didn’t know if he would ever forgive Shane.

  “Did Shane really talk about me?” she asked. Even though they were alone, she found herself whispering.

  “Sometimes,” Worthy said. “You know, since we’re being honest and all, most of us Redcloaks didn’t really like you guys at first. Nobody likes being beat, even if they eventually realize they’re fighting on the wrong side.” They started walking again, but more slowly. “Shane would let us joke around about the Greencloaks, even letting us say some not-so-nice things about Conor and Rollan. Especially Rollan. But you were always off-limits.”

  Abeke didn’t know how to respond. There was so little that she knew about Shane once he’d become the leader of the Redcloaks. He had become this whole new person—someone capable of redeeming himself for his past actions. But now he was gone.

  “Shane—or King, as we called him—was a good leader,” Worthy continued. “Without him, there’s no telling what any of us Redcloaks would be doing right now. I’d probably be locked in a cage in someone’s sideshow carnival.”

  Abeke laughed. “Somehow, I don’t see you staying locked up for very long. You’re a very good fighter.”

  Abeke could see Worthy stand straighter at that remark. “Thanks. I wish I could say it was all my natural and self-taught abilities, but King also trained us. Better than Zerif ever did. He turned us into a real fighting force. A team. He showed us how to work together.”

  Abeke narrowed her eyes and really considered Worthy for a few moments. In the dark, with the red cloak billowing around his shoulders, he almost looked like Shane.

  Worthy coughed and looked away. “What? Do I have something stuck to my mask?”

  “You miss him, don’t you?” she said. “You miss Shane.”

  He nodded after a few seconds of silence. “Yeah. I guess I do.”

  She placed her hand on his shoulder. “You know you can talk to me about him anytime.” She shrugged. “I miss him, too. It might be good for me as well.”

  “You were there when he …” Worthy glanced at Uraza, then back at Abeke. “You were there at the end, right? Was he in a lot of pain?”

  “He didn’t suffer long,” Abeke said.

  “Look, I know you and he were … close,” he said. “And I know how he died. Uraza—”

  “She didn’t kill him,” Abeke said, a tremble in her voice. Her hands had instinctively balled into fists. “It wasn’t Uraza’s fault.”

  “Yeah. I know,” Worthy said. “It was really Zerif and the Wyrm that were forcing her to do it, but still, and the end, it was her teeth pressed into his flesh.” He pulled at his collar. “I guess what I’m asking is—given how you felt about him—are you ever angry at Uraza?”

  “Of course not,” Abeke said as she stopped walking. She reminded herself to calm down. Worthy wasn’t the enemy. None of them were. “Remember how, because of the Bile, you were forced to do a lot of things against your will?” After he nodded, she said, “Uraza was the same way. So was Conor. So were all the Greencloaks.” They began walking again. “However, that doesn’t mean I’m not sad about what happened between us. I wish Zerif had never stolen her. I wish I didn’t have to shoot her in the leg. But those things happened whether she or I like them or not. And now we just have to figure out a way to live with our actions.”

  But as Abeke spoke, she realized she didn’t know if Uraza had forgiven her for shooting her with an arrow. Uraza hadn’t had a choice in the matter when attacking Shane. Abeke had. Abeke had willingly chosen to harm her partner.

  “You know, I’ve never admitted this,” Worthy began, “but I talk to Elda like she’s still here.”

  “Elda?”

  “My wildcat.” He looked around, like he was making sure that no one was close enough to hear them. “I talk to her sometimes. In my head. I apologize for how I treated her. I made her do things against her will—kind of like what Gerathon did to me and the others that took the Bile.”

  Abeke remembered Worthy’s wildcat. She was large and ferocious, with fur as black as squid ink. Her eyes had been golden, like Worthy’s were now. She wasn’t a natural spirit animal. She had been enslaved by the Bile. When drank by a human, the liquid could force a spirit animal bond, making the chosen animals smarter and more deadly—but also completely obedient. And when animals had drank the Bile, well … Abeke didn’t wish that fate on the worst of her enemies.

  “I did a lot of bad things, but now I finally have the chance to make things right,” Worthy said. “Even if it takes the rest of my life, I’m going to make it up to the world. I’m going to redeem myself.”

  Abeke knew that Shane had felt the same way. And he had eventually redeemed himself.

  At the cost of his life.

  They continued on through the night. Worthy was actually a half-decent traveling companion when he wasn’t complaining or whining.

  Eventually they stopped for a longer break. “How much farther?” Worthy asked. “My legs are as soft as noodles.”

  Seeing the exhausted stoop of Worthy’s posture made Abeke realize how tired she was as well. “Just a couple more hours,” she said. “Then we’ll look for somewhere to bed down. Take a rest until nightfall.” She sat down on an overturned, partially buried log and took a sip of water. After a long drink, she offered the canteen to Worthy. As he finished off the water, Uraza nudged at the log, perhaps looking for some small vermin for a late-night snack.

  “Knowing Meilin, she’ll want to keep moving,” Worthy said. He look
ed up at the canopy of tree branches, still blocking most of the moonlight from entering the forest. “She’ll say this forest is dense enough that we can keep moving without being seen.”

  Abeke took the empty canteen from him. “You’re probably right. But let’s discuss it when the others catch up.” Abeke could just see them approaching. It was hard to tell, but it almost looked like Rollan and Meilin were holding hands.

  Worthy pulled a stick of jerky from his pocket. Breaking it into three pieces, he offered some to Uraza and Abeke. “I’m excited about going home,” he said between bites. “A soft bed. Clean sheets. Maybe a warm meal or two—something other than snake and rabbit.” He popped the last of the jerky into his mouth. “But I also really want to see my brother. I miss him.” Worthy cleared his throat and gave Abeke a wayward glance. “But, um, don’t tell Dawson I said that. I have a reputation to protect, after all.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “Your secret is safe with me.”

  He seemed to hesitate, then sat down beside Abeke. “Speaking of secrets, there’s something I need to tell you. Something about the Wildcat’s Claw.” He took a deep breath. “I don’t exactly know—”

  “Wait.” She placed her hand on his shoulder, quieting him. “Do you hear that?” she whispered.

  “What is it?” Worthy asked, spinning around. “I don’t hear anything.”

  “Yes. And that’s the problem.” The forest had suddenly grown too quiet. It was as if something had driven all the wildlife away.

  Abeke slipped her bow from her shoulder and motioned for Worthy to follow her. They crept behind a large trunk and sank to the ground. Uraza crouched beside her.

  “Uraza, go warn the others,” Abeke said, staring into the leopard’s purple eyes. “Lead them back to us. But quietly. Try to stay hidden as much as you can.”

  Uraza’s tail flicked behind her and she sank even lower, then she took off through the forest. Her padded paws hardly made a sound as she scurried around the trees.

  Abeke pulled an arrow from the new set of quivers Rollan and Meilin had purchased from the market. She was appreciative of the arrows, but she almost wished she’d just made more herself. Many of the new arrowheads were chipped and unbalanced, which could throw them off their mark when released.

  She spun as she heard crunching leaves to her left. Nocking an arrow and pulling back on the string, she searched the darkness, looking for her target. Beside her, Worthy flexed his claws, uttering a low, guttural growl.

  “Whoa! It’s us,” Anka whispered. A few seconds later, she and the others appeared in front of them. “Sorry.”

  “That was close,” Abeke said, releasing the tension in her bow.

  “Briggan and I sensed something, too,” Conor said. He shrugged off the smaller of their two packs, then dropped down beside Abeke. “It feels like a trap.”

  “Do you think it could be the Oathbound?” Abeke asked.

  “If so, they must have been following us,” Worthy said. “This is one of the most hidden, most secret—what’s that sound?”

  Abeke heard it, too. A low whistling sound pierced the air. Suddenly recognizing it, she yelled, “Get down!”

  They all dropped to the ground as an arrow flew overhead and lodged into a tree trunk. Two more arrows followed, each striking to the left and right of the group.

  They scurried behind a log as more arrows sliced the night sky. “Look alive, Greencloaks,” Abeke said, reloading her bow. “We’re under attack.”

  MEILIN USUALLY LIKED THE THRILL OF HAND-TO-hand combat over the use of projectile weapons, but when an unseen enemy was firing arrows at her, she really wished she was a better archer.

  “Can anyone see them?” Abeke asked, once the first flurry had ended. She quickly peeked over the log and fired in the direction of their attackers, but nothing seemed to connect. “I don’t want to waste my arrows.”

  “We need to keep moving,” Worthy said, his claws bared, ready to strike once given the opportunity. “We’re sitting ducks out here.”

  “What do you think, Anka?” Conor said. “Can you hide us all with your chameleon’s powers?”

  It took Meilin a moment to realize the woman was shaking her head. “It would be possible … but we would have to move very slowly. It doesn’t work if we’re zigzagging around the forest, trying to take cover.”

  “Let’s just slow down for a moment.” Meilin braced herself against her quarterstaff. “It would be good to know what we’re up against before we make our next move.”

  “You know, I would usually agree with you,” Rollan said. “But not when people are shooting at us.”

  “We’re fine for the time being,” Meilin said as she considered their surroundings. They seemed to have pretty good cover thanks to the large overturned log and the dense trees surrounding them, but they were also pinned down, making it impossible for them to escape. The arrows seemed to be coming from directly ahead. She tried spying through the foliage, hoping to catch sight of the black uniforms or metallic neck and wrist braces of the Oathbound, but all she saw was green leaves and brown trees.

  Meilin ducked as another arrow landed high above them. She closed her eyes and counted as others fired all around them. “There are at least eight archers.”

  “Eight Oathbound? That’s not so bad,” Conor said. “Better than that whole army we faced in Amaya.” Briggan sat by his side, growling toward their unseen attackers. The wolf, like Meilin, preferred more direct combat as well.

  “I don’t think we’re up against the Oathbound,” Meilin said. She glanced at the arrow stuck in a tree above them. “Doesn’t that look familiar?”

  They all looked up, then at the matching arrow nocked in Abeke’s bow. “It’s the same arrows from the village!” Rollan said. “Do you think it’s the trappers?”

  Worthy nodded. “You know, that makes sense. They’re the only people around here that would know this forest well. They’d know exactly where to hide in order to ambush us.”

  “I was afraid this would happen,” Rollan said with a sigh. “One of the trappers started questioning me. Asking me about where we’d traveled. I finally told him that we passed through Betarvius—”

  Conor and Worthy groaned. Meilin wasn’t sure, but it even looked like Briggan rolled his eyes.

  “Yep, that was a mistake,” Worthy finally said. “That place is a ghost town. Completely empty.” He elbowed Rollan. “See, none of this would have happened if you’d taken me.”

  “Enough, Worthy,” Conor snapped. “It was an honest mistake. How was he supposed to know …”

  Conor stopped talking, shifting his body so he was turned away from the others. Meilin looked from Conor to Worthy. There was something else they knew—something more about the village—but neither seemed to want to continue talking.

  “Look on the bright side,” Rollan finally said. “At least it’s not the Oathbound out there trying to kill us.” They watched as another arrow soared overhead, settling in the brush far behind them. “These guys aren’t even coming close to hitting us.”

  “While this is all interesting, I’m beginning to run out of arrows,” Abeke said, firing another one in the general direction of their attackers. “So maybe there should be less talk about how we got into this mess, and more discussion about how we’re going to escape.”

  “Perhaps now is a good time to use the Heart of the Land,” Anka said. As she pointed a translucent finger toward Rollan, it turned brown to match his cloak. “You still have it, correct?”

  Rollan nodded. After returning from the market, he had tied the amulet back around his neck with a leather strap, close to his heart. It fell right where his tattoo of Essix usually resided—whenever the falcon decided to go into passive state.

  Once a large, scaly black rock, the Heart of the Land was now an amber amulet carved into the shape of a gila monster, one of the most feared and famous spirit animals of ancient Amaya. The amulet possessed great powers, but it could also be dangerous
if it fell into the wrong hands.

  Rollan pulled the stone amulet from under his shirt. “Any thoughts on what power I should use? Maybe I can create a tunnel like last time.”

  “The tree roots are probably too deep,” Abeke said. “Worthy said these trees are hundreds of years old.”

  “If not older,” Conor said. “Maybe you can try an earthquake again?”

  “Yeah, I’m thinking that starting an earthquake in the middle of a forest isn’t such a good idea,” Rollan quipped. “Unless you want tree branches to rain down from the sky.”

  “I wish we could see where those archers are shooting from,” Meilin said. “It’s hard to fight an enemy when you can’t even see them.”

  “What about the armor power?” Anka asked. “If we make a run for it, Rollan can take up the rear and block any arrows coming our way.”

  Rollan shrugged. “Seems like a good idea to me.”

  Meilin shook her head. Something still didn’t feel right about this. But she had delayed them for long enough. “Okay, let’s go for it.”

  “Ready, Briggan?” Conor asked. He slid his ax back into his belt, then scratched the large shaggy wolf on the neck. “Stay close to me.”

  Meilin noticed Abeke whispering something similar to Uraza. Still uneasy about their decision to retreat, Meilin briefly considered calling forth Jhi. In addition to being a healer, the Great Panda also helped Meilin clear her mind—becoming so calm she could see all sides of a problem, and even slowing down the outside world. Meilin was sure that meditating with Jhi would help illuminate what was troubling her. But they didn’t have time for that—and the large, lumbering Jhi and her pristine snow-white fur would be a prime target for the archers.

  “We’ll go during the next wave,” Rollan said. Clutching the Heart of the Land tightly in his right hand, he reached out to Meilin and gave her arm a faint squeeze.

  “You should leave your pack behind, Rollan,” she said. “You’ll move faster without it.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll be fine. Plus, we’ll need the supplies later.”