“So … I guess I should tell you that we have spirit animals,” Conor said. “This is Takoda’s.”
Xanthe stared forward, her voice softened by awe, her eyes shining. “Is this who I think it is?”
“Oh, you recognize him?” Meilin asked with a nervous sigh. “The Great Beasts of Erdas died and have been reborn as spirit animals. That’s what caused the Evertree’s roots to regrow six months ago. Conor, Takoda, and I all summoned Great Beasts. So you don’t have to be afraid of Kovo … probably.”
“You don’t understand my question,” Xanthe said, turning her shocked eyes on Meilin.
“I think I do understand,” Takoda said, shaking his head. “When you told us the origin of Sadre, you said that the wisest of the Great Beasts taught the Hellans about the Wyrm. We assumed you were talking about Tellun … but you weren’t, were you?”
Xanthe shook her head, staring reverently at the ape. When she spoke, it was directly to him. “No. The one who was trying to save the world was Kovo. It was you.”
THE TRIBE OFFERED ABEKE AND ROLLAN HORSES TO ride. Rollan thought nothing of it—Greenhaven had three stables full of them, so giving up a horse or two seemed like no big deal—but Abeke bowed low and thanked them effusively.
“Giving up a work animal is a tremendous sacrifice for a nomad tribe,” she explained as she adjusted her horse’s saddle pads and shortened its stirrups. “They must have spent years traveling with these horses, raising them from colts.”
Aynar had mapped them a trail that would lead back to the Tellun’s Pride II over paths solid enough for the horses. They’d follow the swath of muddied grass the yak herd had left behind, head due east along a valley between two mountains, and cross an open plain to the pier where their ship was moored. Sticking to terrain suitable for horses meant traveling a longer distance, but with mounts they should be back by the end of the day.
“I’m relieved we have a new way to go,” Abeke said. “If Zerif is tailing us, it’s safest to press forward and not loop back.”
Anda watched patiently as his new companions mounted up. Tellun wasn’t a particularly demonstrative elk, but he did stand very close to the boy, his broad chest right behind Anda’s shoulders. Whenever he leaned back and scratched through Tellun’s white and gold fur, the elk scrunched his eyes in stoic pleasure.
Rollan shook his head, mystified. “Anda is scratching the leader of the Great Beasts.”
“Not just scratching him,” Abeke said as she mounted her horse.
“What do you mean?” Rollan asked.
“Did you notice how many horses there are? And how many riders?”
Rollan’s jaw dropped open. “Wait. You don’t mean—”
And then it happened. Anda elegantly wrapped his long arms around Tellun’s neck and launched from the earth, swinging around to land neatly on the Great Elk’s back.
“You do realize who you’re riding, right?” Rollan asked out of the side of his mouth.
“Yes,” Anda said, smiling. “My friend!”
“And you’re fine with this?” Rollan asked Tellun, shaking his head.
“Why not?” Abeke said. “We rode him to the Evertree.”
“That was different,” Rollan sniffed.
In reply, the elk raised his antlers haughtily into the air and bounded down the beaten path. Anda threw his arms around his neck to hold on.
“At least Anda didn’t put a saddle on him,” Rollan grumbled as he kicked his own horse into motion. “That would have been simply too much.”
Sure, Rollan figured, the tribe might have made a big sacrifice by offering them two horses, but they’d clearly been strategic about which two horses they gave up. Rollan’s had the approximate speed and power of a bread box. Abeke’s kept slobbering everywhere, and tried to throw her twice within the first fifty paces. Though an elk was by no means a traditional mount for any human, it was soon clear that Anda would be making far better time than Rollan and Abeke. “Say hi to everyone at Greenhaven for us!” Rollan called as the boy pulled farther and farther ahead.
Essix didn’t seem to know what to do with herself. At first, with millennia-honed instinct, she forgot about Rollan entirely and flew above Tellun instead. Then, after about an hour of travel, she returned to Rollan’s side. She made a piercing, confused cry, her eyes darting around. She took off back toward Tellun, then thought better of it and returned to Rollan, then took off again and returned to Tellun, soon returning to Rollan’s side.
“I know,” Rollan told her. “It’s confusing to me, too. It’s Tellun, but he’s not using his boomy voice.”
Uraza seemed to be taking everything in stride—but then again, the leopard had never been one to lose her cool. She loped along beside Abeke’s persnickety horse, low to the ground, frequently stopping to sniff the air or the base of a tree.
“There must be new smells around here for our kitty cat,” Rollan said to Abeke, trying to kick some extra speed from his horse as it tiptoed along the ground. At this rate, it would be winter before they made it to the boat.
“It’s not that,” Abeke said with a worried expression. “Her nose is many times more sensitive than ours. I think she’s detecting something amiss.”
Uraza paused and looked up at Rollan with her wide lavender eyes, as if to say, See? Show a little more respect.
“Which direction?” Rollan asked.
Uraza flicked her gaze north. Rollan pivoted in his saddle to look that way. All he could see were the white-capped cliffs of distant mountains, skirted by a broad, flat plain and isolated clumps of desperate pines. A small plume of dust was at the horizon, but that could have been caused by any number of things. “Well, good thing we’re heading east and not north, then,” Rollan said.
They continued, following the distant blip of Anda and Tellun as boy and elk easily picked their way over rocky terrain.
Rollan decided it was time for a better view. He scanned the sky for Essix, then began to focus on her shape. Nothing happened for a long moment, then suddenly the world pitched and the ground fell away. Rollan felt momentarily sick—no amount of practice had ever helped that—but soon he was able to see the world through Essix’s eyes. The falcon felt him enter her mind and churred companionably.
At first Rollan used Essix’s high vantage point to look north, but he couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, couldn’t tell what Uraza might be smelling.
West was another story.
When Rollan followed Essix’s vision around the plains, he came up with nothing the first few times. But then he heard Essix shriek, and grew alert. With her telescopic vision, Essix zeroed in on an abandoned campsite. Whoever had left it behind had been careful to cover their tracks—the surrounding ground was smoothed over, and the blackened stones of the fire pit had been scattered. But there was still the faintest burning ember in one of the fire logs, trailing up a whisper of smoke. Vision less acute than Essix’s would have missed it.
Rollan returned his consciousness to his own body with a dizzying lurch, and called out to Abeke to hold up. At the same time, he saw that Anda and Tellun were making their way back to them. They met under the shelter of a broad, leafy tree. Rollan’s thoughts flicked to the ailing Evertree, and he realized that even this brief moment of relief after finding Tellun might have been too much of an indulgence.
Anda and Tellun were wearing concerned expressions even before Abeke told them that Uraza had scented intruders to the north. When Rollan added that Essix had spotted an abandoned campfire to the west, Anda gave a grim smile. “Tellun is upset as well. But he keeps looking to the south.”
“We can’t all be correct,” Abeke said.
“We’d best hope that we’re not all correct,” Rollan said. “Otherwise, we’re nearly surrounded.”
“I’m not a ranger,” Anda said. “But I can only think that this doesn’t change our plan. We’re heading through that valley to the east. So far, that’s also the only direction where we haven’t sensed any d
anger.”
“I agree,” Abeke said. “And let’s have our wits about us as we go.”
“Being especially alert, of course, to anything that might be approaching from the west,” Rollan said.
He watched Abeke try—and fail—to hide her smile. “By west, I think you meant north,” she said.
“Or rather south,” Anda said, smiling as well. Then his expression grew serious. “Regardless of the direction of the threat, Tellun and I won’t scout ahead anymore. We should stay close, to defend one another.”
They started moving again. To the east appeared two large mountains flanking a narrow valley, just as Aynar had told them. Anda and Abeke picked up their pace, but Rollan immediately felt himself falling behind. His horse was simply too old and too ornery to keep up with the others. Abeke and Anda stopped to wait for him after a few minutes, and when Rollan reached them, Anda laid his hand on Tellun’s forehead, right between the antlers. The two communed for a moment, and then Rollan’s mount whickered. The tension drained out of the horse’s body, and when Anda and Tellun took off again, Rollan’s horse followed perkily, as spry as a colt.
Rollan didn’t even need to hold on to the reins, his horse had become that sure and graceful. “What just happened?” he called to Anda.
“I’m … not totally sure,” Anda said. “I have only inklings of Tellun’s skill so far. We haven’t been together for long. But I think he can communicate freely with any animal he meets.”
Abeke pulled up alongside them. “You’re well paired. You were the listener of your tribe, and Tellun has served a similar role for the Great Beasts. He has always been a quiet leader.”
Anda stroked Tellun’s long neck as he rode. “It’s nice to feel understood.”
Abeke pulled her hair behind her so she could see forward better. “You know, my father always wanted me to be pretty and refined, like my sister Soama. But that wasn’t who I was: I was a hunter. I preferred the solitude of the plains, with my bow in hand.”
A flicker of pain passed over Anda’s features. “My father wished for a hunter. But he got me. I can hunt mushrooms and healing herbs, but that’s about the extent of it.”
“It can take time,” Abeke said. “But he’ll come around. You summoned Tellun. Your story will become one of your people’s legends. My father and I only started to understand each other recently, but our love was there all along.”
“I miss my tribe already,” Anda said simply. “I miss them very much.”
As they neared the twin mountains, they left the herd’s beaten trail entirely and picked their way through scrabbly brush. Though Rollan’s horse was no longer resistant and cranky, it did start to slow from sheer exhaustion. She dropped her neck and stumbled, a sure sign the mare was nearing her limits. At one point, Anda called the group to a stop.
“I hate to say it, but I think we should camp and find the ship in the morning,” Anda said.
Rollan nodded gratefully.
“Why?” Abeke asked. “There’s still plenty of daylight.”
“Look how high the mountains rise on either side of the valley where we must pass,” Anda said. “Once we’re in the canyon between them, they’ll block out any light that isn’t directly overhead. The sun will set hours early in that valley. We’ll be in the dark, with only two access points. If we’re attacked, we could easily be overwhelmed.”
“Oh,” Abeke said. “I hadn’t considered that.”
“We’ll have to camp one night,” Rollan said. “It’ll be cold, but it’s best not to make a campfire. An attack could easily come from the west.”
“Or north,” Abeke said.
“Or south,” Anda said.
“Let’s hope none of us are right,” Rollan said.
“We’ve assigned night watches before,” Abeke said. “And we’ve handled anything that came at us.”
“That may be true,” Anda said, “but we have a saying, oranu yeno simula oranu mordico. ‘A confident plainsman is a dead plainsman.’ Let’s camp once we reach the base of the mountains. I’ll feel safer with a cliff face at our backs.”
Rollan hated the idea of being without good shelter at night in the whispering plains. All the same, he was glad they had decided not to press forward. The prospect of navigating a night-dark alley between steep, foreboding mountains was none too appealing.
Though it was afternoon, once the cliff blocked the sunlight, the chill of twilight entered their bones. As they assembled their bedrolls and made camp, Uraza was the first to start shivering. Abeke called the leopard into passive state so the tropical cat wouldn’t suffer. Essix had techniques to keep herself warm, though the normally regal gyrfalcon did look a trifle silly with her feathers puffed out, more like a ruffled chicken than a bird of prey. Tellun and Anda were the only ones who seemed fully at ease, standing on the rocky ground and staring out watchfully.
After a simple cold meal of seeds and greens, they settled in for the night. Once Tellun had chosen a position and lay down, it was impossible to resist putting their bedrolls alongside him to warm themselves against his fur. Rollan felt a little scandalous, using the greatest of the Great Beasts for his body heat.
“Do you think you’ll be able to fall asleep, Rollan?” Anda asked while they stretched out on their backs. The first stars were twinkling in the slate sky.
“Hmm whaa … ?” Rollan asked. Anda’s question had caught him mid-yawn.
“You go to sleep if you can. I’ll take first watch. I’d like to replace Abeke’s neck dressings, anyway. Then I’ll switch off to her, and you can take the last watch.”
“Sounds just fi-iine to me,” Rollan said around another yawn. “How’s your neck doing, by the way?”
“Much better,” Abeke said. Rollan could hear the smile in her voice. “Thanks to Anda.”
“Yes, thanks to Anda,” Rollan said. “And we should all thank Tellun, for being so very snuggly.” Rollan wriggled his hands under the elk’s warm body, and the greatest of the Great Beasts snorted in response.
Despite the cold, Rollan slept deeply. He dreamed of Arctica, of balancing on an ice floe with Meilin, giggling as it tilted, trying to keep their balance as each jostled the other. Jhi and Essix were on two more floes nearby, bobbing in a frigid sea, watching. It only slowly dawned on Rollan that they were strangely impassive, even as Rollan and Meilin were having the time of their lives.
Come on, Essix, Rollan thought in the dream. Lighten up!
Dream-Essix looked at him like a stranger. Then she opened her mouth, and rolls of black rot came streaming out. It flooded her floe, tipping the bird into the icy depths. Then Jhi was retching black rot, too, and Meilin was screaming and tipping in.
Then—slam—the dream was over. Rollan was suddenly awake and gasping, hands patting the cord of rope that tied his pants, groggily searching for his dagger sheath. The dream was over, but a very real pain was wracking his body. His insides felt like they’d wrapped around a giant’s fist, then yanked out of his body.
“What happened?” came a startled voice. Anda.
“I don’t know,” Rollan managed to say. Then, before he could say anything more, it happened again. The giant yanked his insides to the horizon and let them snap back. He rolled onto his side, face contorted in pain. “Argh!”
Now that he was awake for it, Rollan heard Anda scream, and Abeke, too. “Rollan, what’s happening?” she cried.
“I don’t know,” he gasped.
But then he did. He recognized this awful pain. Rollan had felt it once before, under a bloodred sky at the end of the world. “Our spirit animal bonds!” he shouted. “They’re breakin—ahh!”
Once more, his guts wrenched.
“I don’t understand,” Anda said, his voice unsteady with fear. “Why is this happening to us?”
Rollan sat up, hugging his arms around his torso for comfort while he waited for the next tremor.
They breathed in silence in the darkness, waiting for the next wave of the pain. But it didn
’t come.
“Our bonds are under attack,” Abeke said to Anda, her breathing slowly returning to normal. “I think … I think it’s because the Evertree is sick.”
“It—it was horrible,” Anda stammered in the near darkness. “Like something was punching my spine.”
“Essix?” Rollan called, remembering his dream. Though he could see the outline of the falcon nearby in the dim light, for once he didn’t have an inherent sense of where she was. It was a bleak and empty feeling, like grief.
Then the fluffy cold-weather version of Essix edged over to Rollan and snuggled in close. Gradually, as if it had been frozen in a block of ice that was slowly melting, Rollan’s link to Essix was returning. But it still felt like a small, frailer version of what it once was.
“Abeke …” Rollan said. “Something’s changed.”
“I feel it, too,” she said grimly. “My link to Uraza feels … cold.”
“I think it might be coming back to me and Essix, slowly. Maybe we’ll be okay in the morning.”
Anda reached his arms around Tellun, his eyes closed tight. “I can’t tell,” he murmured.
“There’s nothing we can do now,” Abeke said. “I’ll summon Uraza in the morning and see where things stand.”
“You’re right,” Rollan said, nodding. “Get some rest.” Then he turned to Anda. “I’ll take my watch now.”
“Wake us at the first sign of danger,” Abeke whispered.
They must have been truly exhausted; neither Anda nor Abeke put up a fight, and were soon huddled into themselves, out cold.
Normally Rollan found it hard to stay awake when he was on watch, but there would be no trouble with that tonight. He sat up, rigid with worry, and listened to the noises of the Amayan night. Hugging his knees close, he scanned the near dark and listened to frogs, insects, and the first warm-ups of morning songbirds. One was particularly insistent, and was soon met by another answering call from far off.
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