Spirit Animals Book 1: Wild Born

by Brandon Mull

  “Unbeknownst to some Greencloaks,” Lenori explained, “spirit animals do not only exist to let us swing a sword harder. There can be aspects to the connection more valuable than running fast or jumping high. If you relax, I believe I can show you.”

  “I’ll try if you want,” Conor said. He certainly couldn’t relax with her holding his hands.

  Perhaps sensing this, Lenori backed away. “Don’t try to force it,” she instructed. “Relax and gaze upon Myriam, my rainbow ibis. Watch her as you would a campfire on a lonely night.”

  The bird on the perch spread her multicolored wings. She bobbed gently, causing cascades of color to ripple through her vivid feathers. Trying to follow Lenori’s instructions, Conor thought about how he watched campfires. He tried not to stare hard at a fixed point. Without searching for anything specific, he let the rainbow ibis serve as his center of attention.

  Lenori was speaking but Conor got lost in the cadence of her words. Her voice was rhythmic, a melodic pulse that steadied and calmed him. Dimly he noticed Briggan turning in a circle, first one way, then the other. He began to feel very drowsy. He blinked his eyes, but it didn’t seem to help. In fact, with every blink, the room became more of a blur.

  Conor stared down a misty tunnel. Where had that come from? He soared down the hazy passage without any sensation of movement. At its end, he saw a grizzly bear and a raccoon hurrying across a wide brown prairie. With an effort of will, he sped up until he glided alongside them.

  There was no wind in his face, no physical evidence of his speed. But the shaggy grizzly bear ran hard, as did the raccoon. Both kept their eyes fixed on the horizon. Looking ahead, Conor saw a spectacular mountain range. Atop a distant ridge, the great ram was outlined in sunlight.

  As soon as his eyes locked on the ram, Conor found himself pulled from behind. Against his will, he withdrew back into the misty tunnel until the animals became specks in the distance. The tunnel collapsed and dissolved. Conor realized that Lenori, Briggan, and the rainbow ibis were all staring at him. He felt clammy. His mouth tasted weird and oddly fuzzy, like after a long sleep.

  “What did you see?” Lenori inquired serenely.

  “Huh?” He felt unsteady. “I . . . I saw a raccoon and a big, shaggy bear. They were running toward some mountains. I could see Arax beyond them, up high on the rocks. They were heading straight at him.”

  “A bear and a raccoon,” Lenori repeated. “Anything else?”

  “I didn’t notice much else. I was mostly focused on the bear and the raccoon. I had to go through a long tunnel.”

  Lenori gave a triumphant smile. She took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You did it, Conor. I think you found our path.”

  In less than an hour, Conor was escorted past a dozen armed guards and through multiple sets of double doors to a high room with the curtains drawn. He found Olvan, Lenori, Tarik, Rollan, and Meilin waiting, along with all of their spirit animals. Tarik’s otter darted around the room in bursts of motion, clambering across furniture and bookcases. Tarik’s pairing with Lumeo seemed odd, since the tall Greencloak was so serious. Olvan’s moose stood near the fireplace, its massive form out of place indoors. The dignified room had a feel similar to the Earl of Trunswick’s study, but it was even bigger.

  Olvan stood up, rubbed his big hands together, and swept the room with his keen, knowing gaze. In spite of the white in his hair and beard, he had thick, powerful limbs and a broad chest. Age had not yet robbed him of strength or vigor. Conor could easily imagine him astride his moose, leading an army into battle.

  The commander of the Greencloaks noisily cleared his throat. “I know we have kept you in suspense regarding the roles we hope you will play. You can blame me for the delay — I prefer to know the whole story before I share it. Joining the Greencloaks is merely the first step toward the vital purpose we hope you’ll serve. Given recent developments” — he nodded toward Conor — “the time to act is upon us.”

  Olvan strolled over to the mantel. When he turned to face the others, his expression was grave. “Centuries and centuries ago, in the last worldwide war, the four nations of Erdas battled the Devourer and his army of Conquerors. Two Great Beasts aided the Devourer — Kovo the Ape and Gerathon the Serpent. Four of the Great Beasts sided with us. Three of them are here today.”

  Olvan paused to let that sink in. Feeling unworthy, Conor considered Briggan. The wolf sat listening attentively.

  “Before the original Essix, Briggan, Jhi, and Uraza joined the fight, we were losing the war. None of the continents went unscathed. Most of Nilo and Zhong had fallen. The Zhongese and Niloans who escaped fled to Eura and Amaya, only to find those nations besieged as well. Cities were razed. Food was in short supply. It was only a matter of time before the Devourer declared victory.

  “The Greencloaks were a fledgling organization then, but when four of the Great Beasts showed their support, the Marked flocked to join us. The Greencloaks did what nobody else had done — they mounted a major offensive, taking the fight to the Devourer. The four Great Beasts gave their lives in the fight, which is why they are known as the Four Fallen. But the Devourer fell as well, and Kovo and Gerathon were captured. The cost was great, but the four nations emerged victorious and began to rebuild.”

  “What about the rest of the beasts?” Rollan asked. “The other nine?”

  Olvan shrugged. “Seeing the damage that two of their own had caused, a few of the Great Beasts offered their aid at the very end. Tellun the Elk, the most powerful of them all, imprisoned Kovo and Gerathon for their crimes, and Ninani the Swan gifted the Greencloaks with the secret to creating Nectar. The rest . . . well, the Great Beasts are a strange group. They are seldom unanimous on any issue, and their purposes are almost inscrutable. They tend to remain aloof, only getting involved during times of the direst peril.”

  “The Devourer didn’t count as serious trouble?” Rollan scoffed.

  Olvan sighed. “One can only speculate. Perhaps some of the Great Beasts felt it best to protect their own territory, or their talismans.”

  Conor looked at Lenori, a question in his eyes.

  “Each of the Great Beasts protects a unique talisman,” Lenori inserted. “A totem that houses great power.”

  “Except for Kovo, Gerathon, and the Fallen Beasts,” Meilin said. “Their talismans vanished after the war. Some suspect that Tellun asked Halawir the Eagle to hide them.”

  “Very good,” Olvan said. “You’ve studied your history. The events surrounding the Great Beasts are often dismissed as legend. I am glad that some in Zhong have considered those deeds worth remembering outside of children’s tales.”

  Meilin reddened slightly. “I heard about that from my nanny, not my instructors.”

  Olvan frowned. “The Great Beasts have been out of sight for a long time. We honor the Fallen on our flags, we paint pictures, we build statues, we tell stories, but for most people, the Great Beasts belong to a time long past. Some doubt whether they ever even existed.”

  “I was one of those,” Rollan said. “Until Essix came along.”

  Olvan nodded. “You’re not to be blamed. It’s a prevalent opinion, shared in varying measures by the Prime Minister of Amaya, the Queen of Eura, the Emperor of Zhong, and the High Chieftain of Nilo. And yet, during the most critical crossroads in history, the Great Beasts have always played a major role. We are now rushing toward a crisis where the Great Beasts may prove more important than ever.”

  “You think the Devourer is back?” Meilin asked, her whole body quivering with agitation. “You think that is who attacked Zhong? Why weren’t we warned?”

  “We had only our suspicions,” Olvan said sadly. “My voice has been raised in warning to the leaders of all the nations. But I cannot force them to heed me.”

  “And we still don’t know the whole story,” Lenori explained.

  Olvan nodded. “We get new i
nformation every day. Whether we’re up against the same Devourer who leveled much of Erdas long ago, or some inheritor of his legacy, we’re still not sure. What is sure is this — the Devourer can raise vast, powerful armies in a short time. He can be patient and subtle, or ruthless and brash, depending on the need. He inspires manic devotion in his followers. And he would gladly destroy the civilized world to rule over its ashes.”

  “What do we need to do?” Conor asked.

  Olvan glanced at Conor, Meilin, and Rollan in turn. “Our spies have learned that the Devourer has once again made collecting the talismans a top priority. Each talisman has different powers that can be used by one of the Marked. Our enemy wishes to employ those powers against us. So we’re going to recover the talismans before he can.”

  “Wait,” Rollan said as the color drained from his face. “You want us to go after the talismans of the Great Beasts?”

  “You won’t go alone,” Olvan said. “The Greencloaks have no finer warrior than Tarik. He will serve as your guide and protector. I lament that you’re all so young, but your connections to the Fallen will be critical in finding and retrieving the talismans. These talismans could change the course of the war. All of Erdas needs you.”

  As the full enormity of the task hit him, Conor felt light-headed. How was he supposed to go up against a Great Beast? This was beyond dangerous. Olvan had basically handed them a death sentence.

  He reached out a hand to Briggan. The wolf nuzzled his palm. Without Briggan, they wouldn’t know where to find Arax. Conor tried to steel himself. Olvan was right: If the Devourer wanted these talismans, the Greencloaks had to get to them first. Conor wasn’t sure how they would, but they needed to try. “We’ll do our part,” Conor pledged, though his voice broke on the words.

  “Speak for yourself,” Rollan said.

  “I meant me and Briggan,” Conor explained, flushing.

  “Oh, right,” Rollan replied. He faced Olvan. “Well, I see why you need us. My question is what do we get out of it? Besides risking our lives to do something we’re not ready for.”

  “As a Greencloak, this is your duty,” Lenori said calmly. “Your reward would be the same as ours — the satisfaction of defending what is right, defending Erdas.”

  “I’m not a Greencloak,” Rollan said. “I may never join.”

  “We’ll do it,” Meilin said, giving Rollan a disgusted glance. “Jhi and I. This is what I hoped for — a chance to make a difference. I’ve seen what’s coming. Zhong has the best armies in the world, and these new Conquerors are tearing us apart. We mustn’t let them get more power. They must be stopped. It would be my honor to join your ranks and defend Zhong as you describe.”

  Conor studied Meilin with admiration and a little bit of fear. He could scarcely imagine what hardships awaited, but at least he and Briggan wouldn’t face them alone. Who did Rollan think he was? What reward did he expect?

  Rollan sighed. “And if I don’t want to become a Greencloak?”

  “How selfish can you be?” Meilin seethed. “Zhong is under attack. The rest of Erdas will be soon. What other big offers do you expect the world to give a coward during wartime?”

  “I never had any offers until Essix showed up,” Rollan snapped. “The Greencloaks only cared about me once I got my bird. There’s a city full of orphans just like me who Olvan was all too happy to pass by until he found Essix. Maybe I wonder why the Greencloaks only include Marked people. Maybe I wonder who put them in charge of the Great Beasts and the talismans. And maybe, unlike you, I don’t love getting pushed into situations I don’t understand! I want to know exactly who I’m working for and why.”

  Olvan glanced at Tarik and Lenori. Slowly he stood and walked to where Rollan was seated, until he stood right before him, staring down. Conor wondered if he was trying to intimidate Rollan, but when the large man spoke, his voice was controlled. “I can understand wanting to take your time with a decision this big. I believe that time spent among the Greencloaks will relieve your doubts as to our sincerity. We don’t believe we’re in charge of the Great Beasts. We do our jobs because we know that, along with the Great Beasts, we’re the last line of defense.”

  “What about the governments?” Rollan asked. “The prime minister and all of them.”

  Olvan made a skeptical face. “They do what they do. They administer. They make and enforce laws. They squabble about commerce and they occasionally fight with each other. It’s just squabbling, human squabbling. But we were gifted to see something beyond the concerns of man. We were each gifted with a spirit animal. And so we will protect Erdas — all of Erdas — with everything we have.”

  Rollan compressed his lips. “I’m not crazy. I don’t want Erdas to become a wasteland.” He considered. “What — what if I’m not ready to join the Greencloaks, but I’m willing to help?”

  “May I suggest another option for you?” Olvan said. “We frequently work with Marked individuals who don’t accept our vows. We don’t normally give them access to our weightiest secrets, but these circumstances are extraordinary.”

  “Let me sleep on it,” Rollan said.

  Conor turned away and closed his eyes. Regardless of who else came along, tomorrow he would venture into the wilderness to chase a legend. Leaning close to his wolf, he whispered, “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

  10 DREAM

  MEILIN STROLLED ALONG A WOODEN WALKWAY THROUGH A manicured garden, a fragile parasol on her shoulder. She reached a bridge over a brook between two ponds. Below, ornamental carp swam in lazy circles, flashing their red, orange, yellow, and white scales among the purple blossoms of the water lilies.

  Trees and shrubbery screened the house from view, but Meilin would have recognized any portion of her grandfather Xao’s garden. She had grown up roaming these pathways, enveloped in the scent of these blossoms.

  Up ahead, a panda was coming her way. Meilin scrunched her brow. Besides the fish in the ponds and the birds in the trees, animals had never been part of the garden.

  The panda came to her on the bridge and stood up on its hind legs. “You miss Zhong,” the panda said in a rich female voice. Somehow, Meilin wasn’t surprised to hear it speak.

  “Why should I miss it?”

  The panda offered no reply.

  Suddenly Meilin remembered everything. Lenori had taken her away from Zhong. While her father fought a terrible horde, Meilin had run away to the other side of the world — Amaya, the New Lands.

  How had she reached this garden? She hadn’t. This was a dream.

  Meilin regarded the panda curiously. “Are you Jhi?”

  The panda gave a nod. “I am sorry to be a disappointment to you.”

  “You’re not . . .” Meilin began, but couldn’t finish. She sighed. “We’re at war. I’d hoped for an animal that could help me fight. I like you, but . . . my home, and my father, are in danger.”

  “I want to like you too. Give me a chance and you may find I’m more useful than you suppose.”

  “Lenori told me that you were known as a skillful healer. You were called Peacefinder and Healthbringer.”

  “Among other things. Meilin, heed my words. You should get inside. This is no kind of weather for a stroll.”

  Meilin peered up at the sky. The only clouds were distant, wispy, and white. The sun glared brightly. “It doesn’t look bad.”

  “You don’t want to be here,” the panda said.

  The warning made her uncertain, and she felt a faint chill. Meilin looked around for danger.

  “Close your eyes,” Jhi insisted. “Ignore this illusion. Pay careful attention.”

  Meilin closed her eyes. Pay attention to what? A frosty sensation chilled her skin. Yes, now that she noticed, she felt very cold. And wet. She hugged herself, shivering.

  Meilin opened her eyes, but the garden was unchanged. The panda stared at her.r />
  “I’m cold,” Meilin said.

  “You don’t want to be here,” Jhi repeated.

  Meilin turned and ran along the wooden walkway. The day remained pleasant around her, but her skin felt cold and wet. Thumping down the wooden walkway, she followed the turns that would lead to the door in the wall. Maybe if she could escape the garden, she could escape the dream.

  The door came into view. Unsettled by the strange chill, Meilin kept watching for danger, but the garden remained tranquil. When she reached the door, she found it locked. She jiggled the handle and leaned her shoulder against it, but the door refused to budge.

  Meilin paused. Goose bumps pimpled her arms. This was a dream. What if she imagined herself stronger than the door? Backing up a few steps, she lowered her shoulder and charged.

  The impact felt jarringly real. As she stumbled back and fell to the ground, Meilin jolted awake, her eyes opening to a confusing scene. It was dark. Rain poured down on her soaked nightclothes. By the muted moonlight, Meilin could make out that she was on the roof of a tower bordered by battlements. This was Sunset Tower! But what was she doing up here in the middle of the night during a rainstorm?

  Freezing and completely drenched, Meilin shakily arose.

  Before her stood a sturdy wooden door, slick from the rainfall. She tried the handle. It was locked. Her shoulder still ached from ramming it.

  This was the third time she had sleepwalked since summoning Jhi. There had never been a dream associated with the experience, but twice before she had woken up doing odd things in unusual places. This, however, was the strangest by far.

  Meilin tried the door again. It held fast. Would anyone hear her if she yelled? If she banged long enough?

  Meilin had told Lenori about the sleepwalking. The Amayan had explained that people adapted to new bonds in all sorts of bizarre ways. Vivid nightmares were common. Mood swings. Panic attacks. Even rashes. All sorts of side effects had been observed. Developing a pattern of sleepwalking was not terribly strange.