The Wildcat's Claw

by Varian Johnson

  “Gransfen,” Worthy whispered. He stole a glance at the others. They all stood at attention, with their backs straight and arms taut. Worthy adjusted his body so he looked the same.

  “Is he talking yet?” Meilin whispered. “We can’t hear him if he is.”

  “No,” Worthy said. “Nothing—”

  Who is mighty enough to raise the Wildcat’s Claw? Who is brave enough to wake me from my eternal slumber? Who is—

  Gransfen’s eyes became pinholes in the smoke. Is this the Great Briggan? And Uraza and Jhi? He looked up at the nook in the ceiling where Essix rested. This is most unexpected.

  The man’s words felt like they were pounding in Worthy’s head—like a thousand erupting volcanoes. He looked back at the others, waiting for one of them to respond, but only Conor’s expression had changed, his mouth now hanging open.

  No matter. Again, who raised my sword? Was it you? Gransfen had leveled a smoky finger at Worthy, who stood closest to the blade.

  Worthy gulped, then nodded. “Yes, I raised the sword.” He puffed his chest out and placed his hands on his hips. Hopefully that made him look more commanding. “I am Worthy, of the Redcloaks.”

  Gransfen peered at him, a puzzled look coming to his face. What are you? You do not look Euran. Those eyes … I would recognize the gaze of a wildcat anywhere.

  “I am of Euran blood,” Worthy said. Slowly, he removed his mask, setting it on the cavern floor at his feet. “But I am also more. I’m part human … and part wildcat.”

  That seemed to please the giant man. The wildcat is a noble beast. Ferocious. Loyal. Lowering his hand, Gransfen placed his palm against the stone coffin. Wilco died protecting me. She died protecting Eura. I was never the same without her. My heart shattered like ice against rock. He shook his head. I hoped that death would ease my pain. It has not.

  “What’s he saying?” Rollan asked.

  “He’s talking about Wilco,” Conor said.

  I sense a strange presence. He leveled his gaze on Rollan. A bond token is here, one that’s different from ours.

  “Rollan, show him the amulet,” Worthy said. “I think he wants to see the Heart of the Land.”

  Rollan quickly pulled the amulet from off his neck. As he held it up, the amber stone began to glow. It pulsed in tandem with the yellow jewel of the Wildcat’s Claw.

  Gransfen let off a loud, booming sigh. Who is its owner?

  “A legendary warrior, like you,” Conor said. “These were gifted to our … our army, but they were hidden away for a reason before we could use them. Do you know why?”

  Perhaps because of their strength. Bond tokens are powerful, but also deadly when placed in the wrong hands. Gransfen ran his hand over his long, flowing beard. Long ago, Wilco and I protected Eura from the greatest of dangers. But there were some threats so treacherous that even we could not defeat them alone. There were men who used distrust and division to turn leaders into sheep. To transform the just into the wicked, the sure-footed into timid fools. These men would use fear and hatred to create entire armies. They would channel rage and anger into weapons of destruction and death.

  Harmony, and only harmony, could defeat a danger like this.

  The ultimate harmony between human and animal. The ultimate trust.

  It was Wilco who led me to Suka the Great Polar Bear. There in the frozen wasteland of Arctica, towering above me, Suka showed me the crystal talisman hanging from her claw. Holding it in her massive paws, she displayed its might, leveling a snowcapped mountain one hundred paces away with the slightest wave of her arms. I held out my arms, waiting to receive the gift of such power.

  But she refused to turn over her talisman. Instead, she instructed me to create one of my own. My bond token, like her crystal bear talisman, would amplify Wilco’s powers. It would be a weapon capable of defeating the largest of armies. If used properly, Wilco and I would be unstoppable.

  But it would take true trust, Suka cautioned. One shred of doubt between either Wilco or myself would rip the mystic bonds holding us together. We would be lost to each other forever, both consumed by a cloud of despair that would only be soothed by death itself. Others had tried, she warned. Others stronger and braver than us. Many had failed and had been henceforth doomed to eternal madness.

  And even if we were successful, the Great Polar Bear warned, we would have to guard our token for the rest of our lives. The token’s power could be tapped by anyone, not just me. Not just another of the Marked. It could be harnessed whether Wilco was in passive state or not. It could be used by anyone, anywhere, at any time. Its power would live on forever, even after we had departed this world. But if it were destroyed during our lifetimes, we would immediately perish as well, as it was an extension of our bond.

  I remember looking at Wilco, my partner. My friend. Her yellow eyes gleamed. She roared into the white, frozen abyss. She was ready. So was I.

  I drew my sword, forged with my own two hands, and performed the ritual. I could feel the power flowing between us, rolling like a mist over a swampy land, and I watched as it folded itself into my blade. The yellow stone, a gift from my mother, began to shine like it harnessed the fervor of an everlasting sun.

  And then, it was done. The mighty Wildcat’s Claw had been forged anew. And with it, we cut down our enemies and feasted on their burned, charred corpses.

  Worthy cringed as he said this. That part didn’t seem too appealing at all.

  Gransfen looked down at the team. Those that stand before me, are you unified?

  “Say yes,” Conor said to the others.

  “Yes,” they all mumbled.

  Are you worthy of these gifts?

  “Yes,” they said again, watching Conor for the clues.

  And are you willing to die to protect one another, and these gifts, even if it leads to your deaths?

  “Yes,” they said.

  Then take the Wildcat’s Claw, and fight for all of Erdas. Use its power, and let the mighty wildcat roar once more.

  Worthy nodded. “We will,” he said as Gransfen’s image began to fade away. “I promise.” He wrapped his fingers around the sword and pulled it back out of the cleft.

  “Yikes!” Rollan said as the ground began to shake. The stone coffin was receding back underground, the air alive with a soft hiss as steam and smoke once again surrounded them. Then the large slate doors turned fire-red again and began to creak shut, seemingly without anything acting on them to cause them to move.

  Once the doors slammed closed, they returned to their black color. The room fell silent. Save for the sword in Worthy’s hands, there was no clue that anything magical had happened at all.

  “Did you guys hear any of what he said?” Worthy asked.

  Rollan shook his head. “It was the same way in Amaya. Only people from the land of the gift can hear the hero’s echo.”

  “The gifts are called bond tokens,” Worthy said. “At least, I think that’s what he said. He was kind of loud and boomy. My ears are still ringing a little.”

  “Bond tokens?” Abeke frowned. “I’ve never heard of that before.”

  “Actually, you have,” Conor said. “They’re kind of like the talismans from the Great Beasts.” He quickly explained what Gransfen had told him and Worthy about the power of the bond tokens. “And they can be used by anyone, whether you’re Marked or not.”

  “You said we could make these ourselves, right?” Meilin asked. “If that’s the case, then why haven’t the Greencloaks ever created them? They would be helpful in battle, especially when our spirit animals were still in passive state.”

  “The Greencloaks have always been secretive about information they consider dangerous,” Anka reminded them. “Like the source of the bonding Nectar and the location of Stetriol.” She ran a small finger along her chameleon’s bumpy back. “Perhaps that’s why the nations lost their faith in them.”

  “They were only doing what was right for Erdas,” Abeke said.

  “Tell that to a
ll the people in Stetriol and everywhere else that got the bonding sickness, just because the Greencloaks weren’t around to personally administer the Nectar,” Rollan said. His words were hard and bitter. “Think of all the people who drank the Bile because it was the only way to cure their bonding sickness.”

  Worthy knew that Rollan was talking about his own mother. Unlike Worthy, Rollan’s mother had taken the Bile for noble reasons. To try to cure herself, so she could find the son she’d been forced to abandon in Amaya.

  “There are other reasons to not share that information,” Conor said. “If a bond token is destroyed, both the human and the animal partner die. Think what would have happened if the Conquerors had known that during the war.”

  “Maybe that’s why the Great Beasts were so protective about their talismans,” Rollan said. “I would be, too, if I knew someone could come along and smash it, wiping me from existence.”

  “Yes, and that’s if the technique to create one even worked in the first place,” Worthy added. He had sat down and was using his cloak to shine the sword. “Gransfen said it required absolute trust between partners. All it would take was one thread of self-doubt to doom both the human and the animal. The bond would break between them. Shattered. Forever.” He looked up. “Isn’t that right, Conor?”

  Conor was looking down at his own spirit animal, as were Meilin and Abeke. Even Rollan seemed to have a faraway look.

  “I’ve had my bond broken before,” Abeke finally said. “It isn’t something that I’d hope for again.”

  “Yes,” Worthy said. The blade was sharp, and he’d accidentally sliced a hole in his cloak. “But as long as there’s complete trust between you and the animal—”

  “We should move out,” Meilin said, rising. “It will be dark soon.”

  Worthy looked as his friends, clearly troubled. Perhaps their bonds weren’t as strong as he thought they were.

  Briggan growled. A second later, so did Uraza.

  Worthy stood up. He’d heard it, too. The crunch of pebbles against boot heels. The scrape of metal against rocky walls.

  “Get ready, Greencloaks,” Worthy whispered. “We’re about to have company.”

  “It must be the Oathbound,” Meilin said. “Any clue how many?”

  Worthy tried to count all the different footsteps but quickly lost count. “A lot,” he finally said. He looked at the others as their faces became stern. “So now what are we supposed to do?”

  Abeke slipped her bow off and pulled an arrow from a quiver. “Now we fight.”

  ABEKE INSTRUCTED CONOR AND MEILIN TO BLOW OUT the torches. Thanks to Briggan’s powers, Conor’s eyes immediately adjusted to the dark. Abeke had crouched at the opening of the cavern, her body low to the ground. “I’ll take out as many as I can. But they’ll break through eventually.”

  Conor pulled out his ax and bounced on his toes. Briggan seemed frisky as well, ready for action. “Try to be patient,” he said to the Great Wolf. “Our time will come soon enough.”

  “Out of all the places to face off, it had to be deep down in an underground cave,” Rollan said, patting the amulet underneath his shirt. “That means no earthquake powers for us.”

  Meilin turned to Worthy. “You seem to know all about the wildcat,” she said. “Maybe you can figure out how to activate the Claw’s powers.”

  “It would be great if it could magically transport people to safety.” Rollan pulled a dagger from his belt, then another from his boot. “That would be really helpful right about now.”

  “Quiet,” scolded Abeke. “They’re almost here.”

  “Perhaps I should take the gifts,” Anka whispered to Conor and Rollan. “If you all can lure enough of the Oathbound out of the passage and here into this room, I may be able to use my powers to slip by undetected.”

  Conor and Rollan looked at each other. “That’s probably a good idea,” Conor finally said. “Our first priority has to be protecting the bond tokens.”

  “Yeah, but a very close second priority should be getting out of this alive,” Rollan added.

  Worthy seemed to hesitate as he handed the sword to Anka. Conor had to admit, he looked at ease carrying it. It had made him seem more imposing. More inspiring.

  “Do you want me to take the Heart of the Land as well?” Anka asked Rollan as the Wildcat’s Claw disappeared from sight. “I can smuggle it out, too.”

  Rollan paused as well before shaking his head. “We should split them up, just in case.” He held up his arm, signaling Essix. “You’d better take this,” he said to the falcon, sliding the leather strap holding the amulet from around his neck. He tied it around one of the bird’s talons. “Now don’t get any fancy, heroic ideas,” he said to Essix. “If this turns ugly, you fly that amulet to safety as fast as you can.”

  “If this turns ugly?” Meilin said. “We’re talking about an army of soldiers against six. It’s going to get ugly.”

  “Meilin, honesty is a currency that doesn’t have to be spent all in one place,” Rollan said.

  “I can see them,” Abeke whispered. “Be ready. They’re going to charge as soon as I start firing.”

  Abeke closed one eye as she brought the bowstring to her cheek. She waited and waited … and then released the arrow. A second later, an Oathbound soldier screamed in agony.

  “Charge!” someone yelled from the tunnel. The footsteps turned into a thunderous roar.

  That must have woken up the bats, because all of a sudden Conor heard them shrieking. Moments later, they spilled into the room in an enormous cloud, their black wings filling all the available space in the cavern.

  Conor swiped at the bats with his ax, knocking two to the ground. Briggan snatched another out of the air, shaking it with his massive jaws before flinging it against the wall.

  “I can’t see!” Abeke said. “They’re blocking my aim.” She quickly fired off three more arrows, then ducked as the Oathbound returned fire.

  “Look alive, Greencloaks,” she said, retreating from the opening. “Here they come!”

  The first wave of Oathbound stormed into the cavern. Many had arrows stuck in their arms and shoulders. Spirit animals rushed in with them.

  Worthy yowled as he leaped toward a group of three. He quickly knocked two of them against the wall, but the other pierced Worthy’s side, cutting him through his thick red cloak. Worthy yelled, clawing the Oathbound across the arm. The man released a boa constructor, which quickly wrapped itself around Worthy’s neck.

  “Hold on, Worthy! We’re coming!” Tapping into Briggan’s strength, Conor flew across the room, his boots barely touching the ground as he ran. He sliced one of the Oathbound with his ax as he passed by, then crashed into the group of soldiers surrounding Worthy, knocking them to the cavern floor. Rolling to his feet, Conor quickly sidestepped a swinging broadsword, then blocked a billy club aimed at his face.

  “Ouch!” he yelled, looking down. A lynx had grabbed hold of his leg, right above his boot, sinking its teeth deep into Conor’s flesh.

  Before he could shout for help, Briggan appeared, grabbing the animal by the neck. With a loud growl, it ripped the lynx away from Conor.

  “Are you okay?” Conor asked, pulling Worthy to his feet. “Did the snake bite you?”

  “No, more like I bit it,” Worthy said as he spat out a few yellow-green scales. “And I don’t care what anyone says. It doesn’t taste like chicken.”

  More Oathbound rushed toward them. “Back to back,” he said to Worthy. “You take the eight on your side. I’ll take these six.”

  “And how exactly is that fair?” Worthy asked, swiping at the men.

  Across the room, Meilin and Rollan fought off another group of Oathbound. Meilin’s sword kept four of them at bay while Jhi reared up on her hind legs and swatted the men down. Rollan used both his daggers to simultaneously block and attack the Oathbound. Rollan had a cut against his cheek, but it didn’t look deep enough to slow him.

  Conor didn’t see Essix in the fray
. He hoped that meant the falcon had gotten to safety.

  “Oh, no!” Worthy yelled. “Anka’s down!”

  Conor looked in the direction that Worthy had pointed. Anka, no longer invisible, was slumped against the cavern wall, a stream of blood trickling down her face. The Wildcat’s Claw had fallen from her grasp and lay untouched on the floor.

  A woman with a ruby-red sword rushed toward Anka. The woman’s brown braided hair flopped behind her as she ran.

  “She’s going for Anka,” Conor said. “Come on!”

  Conor and Worthy took off, pushing their way through the Oathbound warriors to try to reach Anka and the Wildcat’s Claw first. A man with a longsword lunged at Worthy, but Conor jumped in the way, blocking the blade with his ax hilt before it reached Worthy. The warrior then smiled as a meerkat leaped from his back onto Conor’s face.

  Conor spun around, trying to keep the animal away from his eyes. The meerkat was small, but its claws were sharp. Conor screamed as it raked its paw across his forehead.

  “Conor!” Worthy yelled.

  “Forget about me,” he yelled, dropping to the ground. “Protect Anka and the sword!” Conor rolled around, trying to dislodge the animal from his face. Although his eyes were closed, he could hear Briggan nearby, squaring off with the man with the longsword.

  Finally, Conor slammed his head against the ground. It was like being hit in the face with a brick, but the maneuver successfully dislodged the animal. Rising to his feet, Conor kicked the meerkat across the room. Just before it was going to land, Uraza leaped into the air, snagging the beast.

  “Bomilo!” the warrior shrieked, running after Uraza.

  Conor turned to see that Worthy had made it to the Wildcat’s Claw. He knelt before it, but hadn’t yet picked it up.

  A few paces away, the tall woman warrior stood with a garrison of soldiers behind her. The woman had placed the tip of her ruby-red sword right underneath the unconscious Anka’s chin.