The Wildcat's Claw

by Varian Johnson

  “Brace yourself!” she yelled. She struck her hand hard against the ground.

  Thunder boomed, and a shock wave radiated from Meilin on out. The trappers bobbed, trying to keep their balance as the earth rolled underneath them. All around them, branches and tree trunks creaked and snapped upon being hit by vibration after vibration.

  Meilin leaped out of the way right before a tree limb crashed to the ground, barely missing her. Likewise, the branches holding the others came crashing down.

  “Ouch,” Conor yelled.

  “Oomp,” said Worthy.

  “Sorry,” Meilin muttered. She took in the scene. While the trappers wobbled to their feet, Abeke and Conor began cutting through their thick ropes. But they were slow, and the trappers were already lurching forward.

  “Hit them again!” Rollan yelled, bracing himself against the cage.

  Meilin struck her fist back into the ground. More trees fell, and the trappers once again stumbled off their feet. Abeke grabbed Anka and rolled to her left as a huge tree limb came thundering down. Across from them, Worthy and Conor had worked their way out of their net, and were now getting to their feet.

  Worthy ran toward a group of men. “You guys like to shoot arrows from afar. Let’s see how you do up close.” He leaped at the men, landing on one of their backs and flipping him over. “I’ll take care of these men,” Worthy said. “Free Abeke and Anka!”

  Conor nodded, then rushed to help the others. Meilin started to run toward them as well, but stopped as she heard footsteps approaching.

  “Meilin, behind you!” Rollan yelled.

  She turned to see the rest of the hunters rushing toward her. Merch was in the front, waving his sword high in the air.

  “Jhi, help me!” Meilin called out as she charged the men. Feeling Jhi’s power coursing through her body once again, she leaped into the air and landed a roundhouse kick squarely on one of the trapper’s jaws. Then she spun around, kicking two more to the ground.

  Essix appeared beside her, taking out another trapper before he could fire his arrow at her. Then there was Jhi, back on her hind paws, swatting down the men as soon as they drew near. Her coat was wet with blood—Meilin hoped that it belonged to one of the attackers, not the panda.

  “Yikes,” Rollan yelled. “A little help here?”

  Meilin turned to see Merch and two trappers running toward Rollan. The boy, still tied to the cage, was defenseless.

  Meilin took off, channeling Jhi’s massive power into her legs. Using a fallen tree, she catapulted herself over the men, landing between them and Rollan.

  Merch seemed surprised for a moment, then his mouth curled into a snarl. “Doesn’t seem fair, does it?” Merch said, waving the sword at her. “Us with the weapons and you with nothing but your hands tied together.”

  “Yeah, it’s not fair. For you!” Jumping into the air, she kneed the first trapper in the nose, then kicked him in the chest, hurling him backward. She flipped back to her feet and charged toward the second man. But before she could reach him, an arrow whizzed past Meilin and sunk into his shoulder. A second later Uraza was at the man’s side, clamping her sharp teeth into his leg.

  Meilin turned quickly to thank Abeke, then focused on Merch. “That’s a nice sword,” she said. “Do you mind if I take it?”

  “Sure, you can have it as soon as I run you through with it.” Merch lurched forward, and Meilin expertly dodged his thrust. Meilin grabbed his arm, spun around, and flipped him over her shoulder.

  When he opened his eyes, he was lying upside down against what remained of the wooden cage. And Meilin was holding the falchion between her still-tied hands.

  “What were you saying about this sword?” she asked, a large smile on her face.

  Around her, most of the other trappers had either given up or had fled into the forest. She waved at Jhi as the Great Panda sat on top of one of the trappers, stopping him from trying to escape.

  “Now that’s the kind of fighting I like,” Rollan said. “The type where I don’t have to lift a finger.” He jutted his hands toward Meilin. “But if you don’t mind, I would really appreciate it if you got me out of here.”

  She opened her hand, revealing the Heart of the Land. “Want me to use the earthquake powers one last—”

  “No!” Rollan, Conor, and Abeke yelled at the same time.

  She laughed. “Come on, guys. Can’t you take a joke?”

  Rollan rolled his eyes as Conor began to cut him free. “You stick to fighting. I’ll handle the jokes.”

  AFTER TALKING IT OVER, THEY DECIDED TO TIE UP the remaining trappers. Conor didn’t like this idea—really, no one did—but they didn’t have any other options. Using the wood and nets from their own traps, Conor and the others created a large cage to hold them all. The men were cramped, but it would keep them safe from any dangerous beasts wandering through the forest. Based on what the trappers had told them, it would take their companion, Cal, a full day to reach the Oathbound campsite. Adding another day for the return trip, and Conor figured that they only had a two-day head start. It would be risky, but they decided to travel during the daytime—which meant traveling with their spirit animals in passive state. Conor knew Briggan enjoyed roaming the countryside, but they had to make it to Trunswick before the Oathbound found them.

  Just before they were about to leave, Conor walked over to Merch, the leader of the trappers.

  “You can’t leave us out here like this,” Merch said. “We’ll starve.”

  “We left you plenty of food and water,” Conor said. “Your friend will be back soon.”

  “But what if he’s delayed? What if he’s lost?”

  “Don’t worry. Someone will come for you.” Conor knelt in front of the man. “Also, I just wanted to say, I’m sorry for your loss,” he added quietly. “How many people survived?”

  Merch’s eyes softened, if only for an instant. “Just the handful of us trappers who were out in the forest.” Then just as quickly, his gaze turned cold. “Tell me the truth. Were you there?”

  “I was not there,” Conor said. But he may as well have been. He, like all the other infected people, had done terrible things. Sure, he could argue that it wasn’t his fault, but that didn’t undo the pain he and the other Greencloaks had inflicted on innocent people.

  “I know you don’t trust us,” Conor said. “But I promise, the Greencloaks will make this right. We won’t rest until we’ve helped rebuild all of Erdas, including Betarvius.”

  “I’ve seen your help,” Merch said. He spat onto the ground, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ll take my chances with the Oathbound.”

  “Merch, just listen to me—”

  “Conor,” Abeke said. Like usual, he hadn’t heard her approach. “We need to go.” She placed her hand gently on his shoulder. “Come.”

  “I’m sorry,” Conor said one last time as Merch turned away from him. He stood and picked up his ax. It felt much too heavy in his hands.

  “Conor, I know you feel sorry for these men, but we have to keep focused on our mission,” Abeke said as they went to join the others.

  “Yeah,” Conor said. “It’s just that, ever since I was a little kid, I’ve always wanted people to like me. I hated disappointing anyone—even Worthy, when I was his servant. I wish there was something I could say to Merch to make him feel better.”

  “Hopefully his heart will soften. But it will take time. Years, perhaps. But just because his heart is made of stone doesn’t mean yours needs to carry the same weight.”

  “Thanks, Abeke. You really are a true friend.”

  “And I’ll always be your friend,” she said. “Now come. We have to move quickly.”

  They started off toward Trunswick, now taking the main roads. They knew they’d encounter more people, but it would cut their travel time by a full day. At night, they stopped long enough for a few hours of sleep, then kept moving, using the moon to illuminate their way. Instead of cooking their meals, they
ate cold roots and plants that they dug up along the roadside.

  Conor’s heart swelled the closer they got to town. He found himself marveling at childhood landmarks—the creek his father tossed him into when he was first learning to swim. The hill he often took his sheep to for grazing. The fence he mended for the Widow Tomball for a few coins—which he promptly returned to her after feeling guilty for taking her money.

  Worthy wouldn’t admit it, but he was clearly growing nervous about returning home. Instead of becoming excited and speeding their journey homeward along, Worthy kept slowing down. He complained about entering the town at night—said he didn’t want to get into a skirmish with the gate sentries. Then he protested about their dinner of wild mushrooms, demanding that they stop and cook a proper meal.

  Finally, after he stalled the group because he thought he’d sprained his ankle on a tree root, Conor pulled Worthy to the side, trailing behind the others. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you excited to go home?”

  “Of course I am,” Worthy hissed back. “But as soon as we reach Trunswick, they’ll find out that I don’t exactly know where the records are.”

  Conor snapped his fingers. He’d forgotten about his conversation with Worthy on the ship. “You have to tell them,” Conor said. “Now. And if you don’t, I will.”

  “But they’ll hate me,” Worthy said.

  “Trust me, they’ll dislike you even more the longer you deceive them.”

  “I’ll tell them. I promise. As soon as we’re safely inside the city.” Worthy pressed his hands together and fell to his knees. “Please, Conor. Let me just have a little bit longer.”

  Conor stared at Worthy, then slowly shook his head. He really was too nice sometimes. “Fine,” he said. “But you have to tell them as soon as we reach the manor.”

  “Deal!” Worthy said. He sprung to his feet, and they joined up with the others.

  “What should we expect when we’re there?” Meilin asked. “Did the Greencloaks attack your town as well?”

  Conor shook his head. “According to my parents, the fighting stopped just south of Trunswick. That’s when Zerif called all the Greencloaks back for the final battle.”

  “Anything else we need to know about Trunswick?” Rollan asked. “After my last slipup about towns in the area, I want to be prepared.”

  Worthy shrugged. “Um, no … I don’t think there’s anything else you need to know. Everything’s just fine. Nothing strange happened. Nothing burned down or anything like that.”

  “Huh?” Anka asked. “Worthy, what are you talking about?”

  “He’s just nervous about seeing his brother,” Conor said, stepping in for Worthy. “He’s always a bit of a mess when he’s excited.”

  Rollan snorted. “Then he must always be excited.” He turned to Conor. “Are you going to take us in by the secret back entrance? It’s pretty close to the castle, right?” Conor hadn’t realized that Rollan had remembered that. They’d traveled to Trunswick while on a mission to find Rumfuss the Boar; it had been Conor’s first time back in the town since becoming a Greencloak. He’d wanted to impress Rollan, but had ended up being embarrassed in front of him, thanks to Devin and his father. Then, to make matters worse, the Earl of Trunswick threw them in jail.

  He hoped this visit ended on a better note.

  “Worthy may have a better way for us to enter,” Conor eventually said. “He knows the town better than I do. He’ll take the lead once we’re there.”

  Worthy jumped in the air, waving his fists. “Don’t worry, guys. You can depend on me!”

  Meilin pointed her new sword at Worthy’s feet. “I thought you sprained your ankle,” she said. “Did it magically heal up?”

  “Oops,” Worthy said as he immediately began limping again. “It comes and goes. Joints are tricky like that.”

  Rollan shook his head. “Worthy, you’re favoring the wrong foot.”

  It was well past midnight when they first caught sight of the town. Trunswick sat on a large hill, its sandy-colored walls reaching high to the sky.

  “That’s funny,” Rollan said. “I would have thought that we’d be able to see the castle from here.”

  “Ah, it must be too cloudy,” Worthy mumbled.

  Conor winced as Rollan looked up. A bright moon hung overhead. There wasn’t a cloud in sight.

  “Now follow me,” Worthy continued, stepping off the path. “I know another way past the town gates.”

  Worthy led them through an abandoned field until they reached a small drainage pipe at the base of the wall. After a few tugs, he and Conor were able to pry the small iron gate from the pipe opening. They crept into the city, single file. A few torchlights illuminated the streets, but otherwise the town was silent.

  “No guards?” Rollan asked. “That’s unusual.”

  Conor had to agree. Usually, there was always a sentry or guard roaming the streets or keeping watch at one of the walled towers. But now, everything seemed silent.

  “We lost a lot of our guards right after the war,” Worthy said. “Father wasn’t always the best at paying people fairly.”

  They turned a corner, then froze, staring speechlessly at the shell of a building standing before them. Finally, Meilin said, “Um, Worthy, what happened to your castle?”

  Trunswick Manor—once five stories high with massive sandstone towers that pierced the sky—was now a lump of charred bricks, crumbling walls, and splintered wood. One tower remained, half burned and leaning heavily against the manor’s interior walls. A tattered, soot-coated blue flag flew from the tower, one of the only reminders that this had once been the mighty structure. Miraculously, the giant double-doored entrance and archway remained standing, though the walls surrounding it had long fallen. The manor grounds, once immaculate, were now overrun with vines and thorny bushes.

  Worthy let out a long, deep breath. “There was a little accident.”

  “That doesn’t look little,” Meilin said.

  “So where exactly are we going?” Anka asked. “Worthy, if you’re just leading us on some wild-goose chase—”

  “I’m not! I promise.” He started off toward the outskirts of the walled town. “Follow me. We’ll be at Dawson’s, um, estate soon.”

  Worthy led them through the town’s empty dirt streets, eventually stopping at a small wooden cottage.

  “This is the new Trunswick Manor?” Conor asked. He knew that Dawson was no longer living in the castle, but he hadn’t expected him to be living in a cottage. It wasn’t much bigger than his family’s home out in the countryside.

  Worthy softly knocked on the door using a long, intricate rhythm. When no one answered, he repeated the knock.

  Conor could see what looked like a candle illuminating the window beside the door. “Who is it?” someone from inside called.

  “Tellun the Elk,” Worthy said. “Who else do you think would use our secret knock?”

  The door flung open. Dawson stood in a long wool nightgown, holding a candle. Rumfuss the Boar stood beside him, his tusks white and pointed.

  “Devin!” Dawson placed the candle on an end table, then leaped forward, embracing his brother in a long hug. “I can’t believe you’re here!” He pulled back to get a good look at Worthy, then hugged him again.

  Unlike everyone else that they had encountered, Dawson didn’t seem frightened or shocked by his brother’s new look. He loved his brother, no matter what.

  “I’m all for family reunions,” Rollan said. “But can we take this inside? We do have a bounty out for our heads, after all.”

  “Yes, of course,” Dawson said, leading them in. Once inside, he double-bolted the door. Conor and Abeke released their spirit animals. Briggan and Uraza immediately went to Rumfuss, sniffing him and nudging him with their noses. Meilin then released Jhi, but instead of walking toward the others, she sat down and began to eat Dawson’s spruce plant.

  “Sorry about that,” Meilin said. “It’s been a while since she’s eaten.”

&nbs
p; Dawson shrugged. “No problem. It was my father’s plant anyway.” He turned as something moved behind him. “There’s another old friend here that wants to say hello.”

  A small black cat leaped onto a low bookshelf behind Dawson.

  “Kunaya!” Abeke said. The cat sprinted nimbly along the edge of the shelf then jumped into Abeke’s outstretched arms. Uraza looked at the cat and let off a low growl.

  “Don’t be jealous,” Abeke said as she stroked the cat. “Kunaya’s an old friend of ours.”

  Worthy walked over to take a peek at the cat, when she suddenly meowed and jumped into his arms. “It looks like you two have a history as well,” Abeke said.

  “A little,” Worthy said. Cradling the cat, he sat down in one of the few chairs in the room. “I like what you’ve done with the place, Dawson.” He nodded toward a blue tapestry hanging on the wall. “You were able to save the family crest.”

  “It was about the only thing that didn’t burn down,” Dawson said. “Though it took me three hours to scrub all the soot and smoke out of the fabric.”

  “Speaking of that,” Meilin began. “Maybe now would be a good time to explain what’s been happening around here.” She cut her eyes to Worthy. “Apparently, someone’s been keeping a few secrets from us.”

  “So, where to begin …” Dawson said. “As I’m sure you realized, Trunswick Castle is gone. Devin burned it down the last time he was here.”

  “It wasn’t my fault.” He paused as he placed the black cat on the floor. “Well, it wasn’t completely my fault. I was having a bad day.”

  “This was after he started a riot, of course,” Dawson said.

  Worthy hesitated. “Okay, that one really was all my fault. But I did it for a good reason.”

  Meilin leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell us any of this?”

  He shrugged. “I wanted you to like me. And I didn’t keep it from everyone,” he said. “I told Conor.”

  Conor’s friends all leveled their gazes on him. “Thanks, Worthy,” Conor mumbled. It was just like Worthy to pull Conor into his web of lies. “I’m sorry, guys. I probably should have made Worthy tell you all. But I still think coming to Trunswick was the right call.”