One day, though, Myriam hadn’t come to her before sunset. That was unusual, but not much cause for concern; some new peacocks had recently arrived at the tree, and Myriam had spent the day following them around, keeping tabs on which was the most beautiful. When Lenori finally tracked Myriam down, she found her staring at a patch of bark along one of the tree’s silvery exposed roots.
Lenori knelt beside the ibis and stroked her spirit animal’s iridescent plumage. Her focus remained on the tree. Lenori looked where she was staring, and her heart stuttered.
Rot.
It was a patch no longer than her finger, as purple-gray as a bruise on a pear. When Lenori tentatively pressed her finger to the blemish, she found it was soft, squishing beneath her touch with a wet, sighing sound.
She’d never considered that the Evertree could be susceptible to the same minor infections that plagued all trees. Lenori examined it for any other signs of illness, but the Evertree was shining and healthy. As she lay down in her bedroll that evening, her thoughts were on that strange black mark.
The next day Myriam kept close to Lenori’s side, hopping along the shady ground, never more than a few feet away, even ignoring the upstart peacocks when they brazenly strutted by. When Lenori returned to the spot where she had last seen the rot, she held her breath.
And let it out in a sharp gasp.
The patch had grown. When Lenori placed her hand over the root, the blemish was the size of her middle three fingers. She tentatively tried to peel the rotten bark away, and when the black sludgy paper came free in her fingers, she saw there was a crevice behind the rot, a black arc slicing into the tree’s pristine silver.
Lenori had grown up in the mangrove forests of Amaya and knew a few tricks for curing tree rot. She gathered lichen and wedged it into the narrow black crack, wetting the patch with pond water. Lichen had its own ways of fighting invaders and could work like a poultice to stave off this black sickness, if the Evertree couldn’t manage it on its own.
But when Lenori next returned, the lichen had withered and the rot was bigger. It was as big as her now, a Lenori-sized patch of decay along a root of the tree. It loomed over her, like an accusation.
Lenori stepped toward the rot reaching up the trunk. As usual, she tested it with her fingers, removing whatever bits of black mush she could, hoping to slow the infection’s progress. This time, when she pressed against the rot, it gave way with a soft tearing sound. Her arm passed right into the humid space behind.
Lenori ripped away at the cavity, heedless of the black goo caking her arms and face. The dead bark was like a curtain, hiding an empty space that extended back into the tree. She took a tentative step into it and gasped.
The rot must have been eating at the tree for a long time, longer than Lenori had known. She was in a cavern that led deep into the tree, bits of dying wood dropping around her. Everywhere was the strangely sweet smell of death and rot, and the soft slimy blackness of the Evertree’s sickness.
Looking down, Lenori saw that the rotten hollow extended down, into caverns and dank tunnels under the earth.
The Evertree was the source of all bonds between humans and spirit animals. If it fell, those partnerships would cease to exist.
And there was no mistaking it: The tree was dying.
MEILIN WAITED IMPATIENTLY ON THE DOCKS. ITCHING TO ascend the path to Greenhaven and greet her friends, she massaged a knot of worry that had appeared at the back of her neck. That knot was an old friend—it had shown up during the war, and only left her after months of peace spent in Zhong, undertaking the simple, satisfying work of rebuilding a nation stone by stone. But now that she’d gotten word of Erdas’s new troubles, the knot was back.
She flexed her dominant arm while she waited, hoping she hadn’t gotten too soft during her time home.
Greencloaks were coming and going along the docks, whispering among themselves and cutting admiring glances at Meilin. Meilin had more self-assurance than most twelve-year-olds, or most adults for that matter, but it made her nervous to be seen as a hero. In Zhong, she’d perfected a serene smile, warm enough to honor the person’s interest but chilly enough to discourage handshakes and questions.
“Aren’t you done yet?” Meilin asked the guard imperiously.
She’d been ready to drag her trunk right up to the hulking castle of Greenhaven, but a young Greencloak had stopped her along the path. He’d apologized and then started searching Meilin’s trunk, meticulously picking through her things.
“Find any hidden weapons?” Meilin asked.
“I’m sorry, ma’am,” the guard said, embarrassed. “We’re required to search everyone arriving in Greenhaven. After the war …”
“Yes, yes. I remember the war, believe me.” It had only brought Meilin the title of Hero of Erdas. It had only caused her to bond to a Great Beast. It had only killed her father.
The guard turned bright crimson as he got to the last layer of Meilin’s case: underwear. “I don’t suppose you suspect I’ve hidden any killer crocodiles in those?” Meilin asked, peeking over his shoulder.
Jhi, a giant panda, made a warning grunt where she was sitting a few feet away and philosophically chewing on a piece of bamboo. Lately Jhi had started to take Meilin to task whenever she slipped into rudeness. It was very annoying.
Suddenly aware that her arms were crossed over her chest and her nose was raised haughtily, Meilin forced herself to smile at the guard. “I, um, like your turkey.”
The man’s spirit animal, a particularly unimpressive fowl that was ecstatically picking worms out of a nearby leaf pile, raised its head, shook its wattle, then returned its attention to the dirt.
The guard finished his search, his face still crimson while he stuffed Meilin’s underwear back in her trunk as fast as he could. “Sorry for the delay, ma’am,” he said. “Everyone gets searched, even the Four Heroes of Erdas.”
“You can make it up to me by carrying my case,” Meilin said. Jhi grunted again. “Oh, fine, I’ll get it myself.”
Meilin and Jhi began the walk up the long and winding path to Greenhaven castle, an imposing gray stone structure that rose high over the sea. Though it was an intimidating place, Meilin felt an unexpected joy when she saw it. Greenhaven was as much her home as Zhong. All the same—if she’d had her way, she might never have come back.
Rollan, she thought as she scanned the ramparts of the imposing stone fortress the Greencloaks called home. Where are you?
She’d known the situation was serious when Rollan sent his own spirit animal to call her back from Zhong. She’d been ready to bunk down for the night after a long day helping build a new bridge for the capital when the falcon had rushed into her cabin. A small golden tube had been banded to one of Essix’s legs.
Even in her exhaustion, the falcon had managed a disdainful look as Meilin unscrewed the top of the cylinder and tugged out a rolled-up letter. Meilin had imagined what Essix would say if she could: Essix the Falcon is not a messenger pigeon! Essix eats messenger pigeons for breakfast!
The note had been ominously short.
Meilin,
I know you had to spend some time away for your sanity, and I’m not asking this lightly. But you must come to Greenhaven as soon as you can. Evertree in danger. Will explain when you get here.
—Your Rollan
Rollan had once described the feeling of being far from the gyrfalcon as having someone scratch at his eyelids. Sending Essix all the way to Zhong must have been excruciating. Meilin couldn’t wait to see her friend’s face when he was reunited with his spirit animal. She couldn’t wait to see his face in general, actually.
Essix had flown on ahead as soon as Meilin’s boat arrived, but now returned, alighting on Meilin’s shoulder with a squawk of delight. Then, with a shriek, Meilin was bowled over by an unseen assailant. She panicked for a moment, before she felt the long, stinky licks of a wolf’s rough tongue on her cheek.
“Briggan!” she cried, laughing with joy th
rough her tears as she wrapped her arms around the wolf’s neck. “Conor!” she shouted, hoping Briggan’s human partner was nearby. “Where are you? Get this oversized dog off me!”
But Briggan kept licking, and before she knew it Meilin was joined on the ground by her friends Abeke, Conor, and then Rollan, laughing and hugging as they rolled on the flagstones of the path, heedless of the scene they were making.
One of the Greencloaks making his way up the path giggled, and the phrase “Four Heroes of Erdas” passed through Meilin’s mind. She remembered her dignity and stood up, primly brushing soil and grass from her traveling clothes.
Rollan stayed on the ground and looked up at her, ripping up a handful of grass and adding it to the bits already dusting his shiny, unkempt hair. Meilin’s heart kicked when she saw that the lean Amayan boy looked just the same, with his dark hair and impish grin. At least some things hadn’t changed during her time in Zhong.
“Embarrassed to be seen with us, milady?” Rollan joked. Essix landed neatly on his shoulder.
Conor smudged some mud on Rollan’s nose, then busted into a guffaw. “Now she’ll be embarrassed of you.”
Abeke turned serious before the boys did. The tall Niloan girl brushed herself off, too, and stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Meilin. She pointed up at Greenhaven castle. “I’d hoped we could give you the time off you wanted—we wouldn’t have called you back unless we had to, I promise. Let’s head up to the castle. I’ll explain on the way.”
Abeke took one handle of Meilin’s trunk, and together they started up toward the fortress. Abeke’s leopard, Uraza, and Jhi kept pace with them, the boys and their spirit animals tailing behind. Abeke had clearly been practicing her fighting skills while Meilin was off helping rebuild Zhong; as they walked Meilin admired the bands of muscle lining the Niloan girl’s arms. Even the bow on Abeke’s back looked heavier than the one she’d previously used. But Meilin knew what her friend would really want her opinion on. “I like your new skinnier braids,” Meilin said to Abeke.
“Really?” Abeke said, her hand unconsciously going to her hair. Abeke toyed with the wooden bead at the end of a braid, then let it fall. “I’ve been experimenting. It was good while it lasted. There won’t be time to worry about hairstyles anymore. Not now.”
When Abeke started telling Meilin about recent events, all thoughts of hairstyles vanished from her mind.
“Great Beasts summoned as spirit animals, the Evertree sick—that can’t be a coincidence,” Meilin murmured.
“You think?” Rollan said sarcastically. “We managed to figure that much out, too.”
“You can see why we wanted you back here,” Abeke said.
“Of course,” Meilin said gravely. A stony weight settled in her stomach. “What does Olvan have to say about all of this?” Meilin asked. The leader of the Greencloaks was their best source of wisdom.
“He went to check on Lenori at the Evertree. Due back any day. But wait,” Abeke said. “You haven’t heard the worst part.”
Conor gave an involuntary shiver and wrapped a hand around his sleeve, pinning it to his arm. As if to hide something.
“What’s going on?” Meilin asked.
“Surprise,” Rollan said flatly, pointing ahead of them.
Meilin’s gaze snapped forward. She dropped her side of the trunk. It fell against the flagstones, the wood splintering. “No! Oh no. What have we done?”
They’d arrived at the main courtyard of Greenhaven. It had none of its usual bustle, and even Mustado’s familiar merchant stall was shuttered. Armed guards had been stationed on the battlements, all facing down into the courtyard. The reason was very clear. Chained in the center was an ape. Not just any ape: a gorilla.
The beast’s rounded shoulders were what Meilin saw first. Broad stretches of pure muscle were covered in coarse black hair that turned silver where it trailed down his back. He stood on all fours, knuckles pressing heavily into the ground. The gorilla’s noble, squared brow was held as proudly as possible, but a collar had been fitted around his neck, and the chain didn’t reach quite high enough for him to raise his head. The ape was hunched, eyes scrunched tight, as if by squinting he could shut out the discomfort of his imprisonment.
“Tell me that’s not Kovo,” Meilin whispered.
“It is,” Conor spat. “He’s back.”
“Summoned as a spirit animal,” Abeke said, with a sighing sympathy in her voice. “Just like ours.”
“That’s the one Great Beast we managed to rescue?” Meilin asked. “The traitor?”
“He’s smaller than before, at least,” Rollan said. “Mini-Kovo.”
“He is plenty big enough, thank you,” Meilin said, refusing to take another step toward their sworn enemy. “Who summoned him?”
Her eyes lit on a skinny boy dressed in a stiff blue cotton robe drawn tight with a white sash. He was cross-legged on the ground, hunched like Kovo, his face in a motionless frown. Like the ape, he looked like he was focusing all his energy on surviving his current torment.
“Whoever is going around stealing the Great Beasts didn’t manage to sever that boy’s bond to Kovo?” Meilin asked.
“We got to him first,” Abeke whispered. “Thanks to Conor. Takoda was raised by monks in a monastery in Southern Nilo. One of the monks was a Greencloak, fortunately. After Kovo appeared, she kept Takoda safely locked away while Conor rushed down to bring them back to Greenhaven.”
Conor blushed slightly. “They were already under attack when I got there,” he said. “I was lucky to get them out at all.”
“Who was attacking?” Meilin asked. “I don’t understand who could do this. Are there still Conquerors out there?”
Conor stared furiously at the ground, hand tight on his sleeve again. “It was Zerif,” he said.
Meilin stared between her friends, anger rising within her. She knew that name. Zerif was a war criminal. One of the cruelest and most cunning enemies they’d ever encountered. But he’d never held the power to take a spirit animal. No one did.
“But we got to Kovo first. And he’s certainly not in a position to cause anyone any trouble now,” Abeke said, looking at Kovo with something almost like sympathy.
As if in response, Kovo slowly opened his eyes … and found Meilin’s. She had forgotten how startling their color was. At the sight of his scarlet irises, cold sweat broke out down her back. Much as she tried to calm her fear, her instincts told her one thing only: Run.
Meilin fought to master the urge to flee. She would not let her enemies control her.
The courtyard had fallen silent as Kovo roused. All eyes turned toward the gorilla. He took in the scene blankly, betraying no emotion on his face. After giving Meilin a long, scalding look, he slowly closed his eyes again.
Abeke cleared her throat. “Takoda,” she called to the seated boy. “Do you want to meet Meilin? The one we were telling you about?”
Meilin tore her eyes away from Kovo’s hulking form as the boy got to his feet and walked over, shaking the chill out of his legs and knees. He was about Rollan’s height, but so thin that even his stiff cotton robes couldn’t hide the narrowness of his frame. When he got near, Meilin became confused—though his skin was dark, his features seemed almost Zhongese. When he spoke, his accent was like anyone else from Southern Nilo.
“You must be Meilin of Zhong,” he said, bowing his shaved head. “It’s an honor to meet such a famed warrior.”
“Oh,” Meilin said, hoping the blush she felt wasn’t showing. “Thank you.”
“You’re as polite as always, Takoda,” Rollan said to the boy, a complicated expression on his face.
Takoda smiled, avoiding Rollan’s eyes. “I’m not quite the person you imagined would summon a huge bloodthirsty gorilla, I’m sure.”
Meilin shrugged and cracked her calloused knuckles. “I summoned a fluffy panda. Go figure.”
“You aren’t going to like what I’m about to say,” Takoda said. “We’ve all lost much to Kovo in the past
, and those wounds are not yet healed. Though he might have … behaved poorly before, I think Kovo is trying to help you.”
“Kovo help us?” Meilin asked. Fury surged through her. “Help us like he helped the Devourer rampage across Erdas?” she spat. “As I recall, the last person he helped was cast aside like an old toy when he was no longer useful.”
“Just let me show you,” Takoda said. He took two slow steps back, then turned on his heel and strode toward the ape.
“Takoda, wait!” Abeke cried.
From the battlements above came the sound of drawing bowstrings and swords. Greencloak guards shouted in alarm.
Meilin launched forward on instinct, reaching her hand out to grab Takoda. But she cursed her softened instincts as her fingers reached him a moment too late, catching only the hem of his robe.
Kovo sprang.
For a creature so large, the ape was astonishingly fast. With a single push of his meaty palms against the cobblestones he was beside Takoda, red eyes blazing within the dark of his face. The ape’s fiery gaze flipped from the boy to Meilin, and the sudden intensity of it took her breath away.
Despite herself, Meilin halted, dropping into a more defensive crouch. With another crashing leap Kovo was past Takoda—and bounding straight at her.
Then the chain caught, and Kovo’s collar jerked him to a halt.
He nearly tumbled to the ground but caught himself just in time, straining against the collar, his face inches from hers. Meilin could feel the ape’s breath rustling the ends of her hair. Kovo’s teeth were bared. A few links of chain were all that kept her from death.
Meilin, you are a warrior. She narrowed her eyes.
“No, stop!” Takoda pushed himself between the two of them, his skinny arms waving frantically. “Please, just listen. Kovo doesn’t want to fight!”
Takoda faced the gorilla, and with the boy between her and her enemy, Meilin allowed herself to rise from her defensive stance.
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