The Wildcat's Claw

by Varian Johnson

  Takoda sighed. “Both, I guess.”

  They all knew there was no love lost between their spirit animals. Kovo had killed the Four Great Beasts during the First Devourer War and had in turn been killed by them during the second. They had reluctantly worked together to defeat a common enemy, but no one truly knew what would happen if they were thrust together again. Still, Rollan didn’t like the idea of having to accommodate Kovo.

  “I think Kovo will just have to figure it out,” Abeke said in a cool, unforgiving voice. “We’ve all had to deal with him.”

  “But we’re guests,” Conor reasoned. “Let’s not stir up any trouble.”

  “Kovo is different now,” Takoda said as they each began climbing the ladders. “You’ll see.”

  Rollan was about to make a joke when he glanced down at the steep drop to the bottom and felt his head spin. Devastating quips would have to wait, since he needed all his concentration not to fall. As they continued up the mountain, the glow of the moon rising over the adjacent mountain peak cast a dim light over their surroundings. It was nighttime, but Rollan wasn’t looking anywhere except at the rung right above him. It seemed like everyone was focused on the climb, because no one spoke. In fact, all Rollan could hear were the occasional grunts and sighs as someone paused to catch their breath before pressing on.

  Once they arrived at the monastery, Rollan turned to look back at the view. An enormous sense of peace washed over him. It was a combination of the beauty of the thousand stars above him and the moon rising silently in the sky. Wind whispered past the oil lanterns lighting the entrance to Maktaba. For the first time in weeks he felt safe, a security provided by the remote location.

  “Nice, huh?” Takoda smiled, taking it all in as if for the first time. “Just be careful with the thorns that line the bushes near the entrance.” He waited for the remaining Greencloaks and then motioned for them all to follow him. “Come on, I think someone may want to see you.”

  “I doubt it,” Abeke muttered as she walked past Rollan.

  Rollan nodded in agreement. Kovo couldn’t have changed that much.

  The group passed several monks in the wide corridors who silently stared as they walked by.… It seemed that word of their arrival was spreading throughout the monastery.

  “This is the Great Hall,” Takoda said, entering a large room where oil lamps hung from the many rafters that crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling. There were a few monks eating at one of the long dining tables on the right side of the room, and a fire burned in the massive fireplace on the opposite end. “Figured you might want to stop and get something to eat before—”

  “MEILIN! CONOR!” someone shouted while running down a darkened staircase in the corner. “ROLLAN! ABEKE!”

  Takoda smiled. “Told you someone would want to see you.”

  A girl with white hair and almost translucent skin rushed into the light.

  It was Xanthe, the Sadrean warrior Meilin and Conor had met while battling the Wyrm underground. “I can’t believe you’re all here!” She hurried over and pulled Meilin close to her. “Takoda and I heard about what happened to your surface elder—er, emperor. How could—”

  “It wasn’t us,” Meilin explained. “They were imposters.”

  Xanthe tapped Takoda in the chest with the back of her hand. “What did I tell you? I knew it couldn’t be real Greencloaks.”

  “And since when are you a monk, Xanthe?” Conor teased. “Or are you here for another reason?”

  Takoda blushed at the insinuation, but Xanthe simply rolled her eyes. “I’m here to give a record of my people’s history. Preserve the Sadrean stories for future generations.”

  “How are things in Sadre now?” Meilin asked.

  “Still recovering. Phos Astos will never be the same, but it’s being rebuilt … slowly.”

  “Sounds like several places we’ve seen,” Anka said.

  Xanthe scanned the room. “Who said that?”

  “Oh,” Meilin spun around. “That’s Anka. I forgot to introduce the two of you. Anka, Anka, where are you?”

  “Right here.” Anka stepped away from a purple curtain in a dark corner of the room, her skin and clothing changing from purple to their natural coloring. “Don’t mind me. Nobody does. Pleasure to meet you, Xanthe.”

  “Uh, yes, nice to meet you, too,” Xanthe replied as Anka moved into the shadows and blended back into her surroundings.

  That was when the group noticed him: a large looming figure who sat in the darkest corner of the space, draped in shadow and staring out the window. His massive back was turned to the group, but there was no mistaking him.

  Kovo.

  “Guess we don’t merit even a glance from him,” Abeke speculated.

  “That’s not it,” Takoda explained. “Ever since we stopped the Wyrm, Kovo’s gone almost completely silent. He rarely communicates with me, and he refuses to go into passive form.”

  Rollan cautiously drew closer to the Great Ape. “Is something wrong? Did someone take his banana away?”

  Takoda shook his head. “It’s part of his healing journey. Being here has given him the peace to deal with the things he’s done in the past. He wants, no, he needs time for himself.”

  “Hmpf.” Meilin didn’t seem to be buying it.

  “So he won’t be able to give us information on Stormspeaker or the Dragon’s Eye?” Conor asked.

  “Afraid not,” Takoda said. “He won’t react to anyone.” He looked to one of the corridors, where some of the monks were carrying trays of food. “I’ll get you some dinner. Sit and rest for a moment.”

  Xanthe escorted them to one of the tables. “So those things you mentioned … what are they?”

  “Important gifts we have to find for the Greencloaks,” Abeke said, being purposefully vague.

  “It’s too bad Kovo can’t help,” Xanthe said.

  “We’ll see about that.” Rollan got up from the table and walked over to Kovo. He stood directly in front of the gorilla, looking up at him.

  “Rollan …” Meilin didn’t sound pleased. “What are you doing?”

  “I want to see if he’s really as unaware as he’d have us believe.” Rollan clapped his hands loudly in front of Kovo’s red eyes, but the giant gorilla didn’t even blink.

  “Rollan!” Abeke raced over and pulled Rollan away just as he began waving his hands in front of Kovo’s face.

  “Are you crazy?” Abeke shook her head in disbelief. “Kovo could toss you out that window!”

  “We need answers, right?” Rollan broke away from Abeke’s grip and returned to stand in front of Kovo. “Listen, you giant hairball, we need to find Stormspeaker and the Dragon’s Eye. If you’re as smart as you pretend to be, prove it by telling us where they are.”

  Silence.

  Rollan stood on his toes to get eye-to-eye with Kovo. “You really are one ugly, selfish—”

  “Rollan!” Takoda had returned, carrying a tray with several plates of food.

  Rollan continued. “Foul-smelling, mangy, good-for-nothing, waste of—”

  Takoda slammed the tray down on the table and began marching toward Rollan.

  “An unwise move, brave Amayan warrior,” an unfamiliar voice called out from the hall’s entryway, stopping Takoda in his tracks. “Best not to taunt someone who can later exact revenge. Kovo can hear you, he only chooses not to react … yet.”

  Rollan’s mouth twitched and he swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He peered around Kovo’s massive chest and saw an old man, his back bent down with the weight of the years, leaning on a gnarled, wooden cane for support. “Yes, well, I was only trying to provoke a reaction, so he’d snap out of it and help us.”

  “Reacting out of anger or fear is rarely a good decision. A lesson for Kovo … and perhaps for you.”

  Rollan was about to respond when Takoda interjected.

  “Everyone, I want to introduce you to the Honorable Naveb of Maktaba.” He paused as the old man gave the
group a slight nod. “He’s one of our esteemed elders and our greatest librarian. He knows where to find all sorts of secrets.”

  Meilin bowed in acknowledgement of the elder. “Sir, we’re looking for information about—”

  “Yes, yes.” The old man raised a hand. “I may be old, but I could still hear the instigator over there while he was tormenting Kovo.”

  “That’s not exactly what …” Rollan stopped speaking as Abeke gave him a gentle nudge. Silence was a virtue that often escaped Rollan.

  “I see you’re from this land.” Naveb motioned to Abeke. “I hope you are brighter than your friend there.”

  “Sir,” Abeke responded with respect. “We each have our unique strengths, which—”

  “Blah, blah, blah.” Naveb turned around. “Well, come on. Grab your food and let’s go. I’m not getting any younger.” He headed down a dimly lit hallway. “We have work to do … if you can pass the test.”

  Copyright © 2017 by Scholastic Inc.

  All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SPIRIT ANIMALS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2017941615

  ISBN 978-1-338-11667-0

  First edition, October 2017

  Cover illustration by Angelo Rinaldi

  Cover design by Charice Silverman & Rocco Melillo

  Art direction by Keirsten Geise

  Metal frame: © caesart/Shutterstock

  Wood texture: © CG Textures

  e-ISBN 978-1-338-11668-7

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