Spirit Animals Book 1: Wild Born

by Brandon Mull

  Tarik pulled up in front of the largest building in town, a dingy white two-story structure with an amber tiled roof. A covered wooden boardwalk wrapped around the establishment, and a sizable sign proclaimed it the trading post.

  In a flash, Tarik’s otter became a design on his arm. “Send your falcon aloft,” the Greencloak suggested to Rollan. “Conor, leave Briggan outside.”

  “Essix, take to the —” Rollan began, but his falcon sprang into flight before he could finish.

  “Would you mind guarding the horses, Briggan?” Conor asked.

  The wolf sniffed Conor’s mount, then sat nearby.

  “Will there be trouble?” Rollan wondered. He wore a knife at his hip. Living on the streets, he had always carried a small blade of some sort, but the Greencloaks had supplied him with the finest he had ever owned. The weapon on his belt was a true dagger, well-made and keen, almost a short sword. He had a much smaller knife tucked in his boot.

  “Perhaps,” Tarik said. “Some former Greencloaks hold grudges.”

  “Interesting,” Rollan murmured.

  “Should we take off our cloaks?” Conor asked.

  “Never out of shame or to win favor,” Tarik said. “It sets a bad precedent. We must stand behind who we are and what we represent.”

  But what do you really represent? Rollan wondered. He watched a group of surly, squinting men go out of their way to walk a wide circle around the Greencloaks. An older man leading a laden mule paused to consider them, one fist on his hip. Across the street, hesitant faces appeared in the windows.

  “Everyone is staring,” Conor muttered.

  “Then let’s give them something to watch,” Tarik said, leading the way into the trading post. He wore his sword strapped across his back. Meilin had brought her quarterstaff. Rollan noted that Conor left his ax back with his saddle.

  Everything screeched to a halt in the trading post as they entered. Diners at the bar paused mid-bite, and trading at the general store came to a dead stop. In the silence, Rollan noticed plentiful animal hides on display, along with outdoor gear and row upon row of axes, swords, and other weapons.

  Tarik strode over to the counter in the general store. Several big men made way for him, their gazes ranging from suspicion to outright hostility. Behind the counter a balding man with a mischievous face surveyed the newcomers.

  “Greencloaks?” he groaned with a smirk. “Official business or just passing through?”

  “I’m here to look in on two former colleagues, Barlow and Monte,” Tarik replied.

  The man behind the counter looked perplexed for a moment, then gave a nod. “Been some time since those two wore much green. Can’t claim to have seen either of them lately.”

  “That so?” Tarik asked. “Do they still own this trading post?”

  “They do,” the man replied. “It’s the most successful emporium hereabouts, which frees them from minding the day-to-day operations.”

  Rollan heard a brief uproar behind him. He pivoted to see Essix gliding toward him through the open door. The falcon landed on his shoulder. Forcing a smile, he stroked the bird with the back of one knuckle, trying to act as though the appearance had been expected. As usual, Essix was out to prove she could go where she wanted, when she wanted, regardless of instructions. Both Tarik and the man behind the counter stared at him. Rollan waved a hand. “Go ahead. Don’t mind us.”

  Tarik turned back to face the shopkeeper. “How long would I need to wait for their return?”

  The man folded his hands on the countertop. “They own property all over. They don’t share their schedules with me, and it isn’t my place to ask. Depending on the season, the two of them can be absent for months at a time.”

  “He’s lying,” Rollan blurted, regretting the words as soon as he had let them escape. It was just so obvious. With Essix on his shoulder, his perceptions felt heightened, his alertness sharpened. He could read the way the storekeeper licked his lips at the wrong time, glanced away at the wrong time.

  “I agree,” Tarik said calmly.

  “W-what do you mean, I’m lying?” the man sputtered.

  Rollan could feel the men behind him shifting.

  “What’s the lad playing at?” one particularly large guy muttered to his neighbor. “He’s got himself a gyrfalcon.”

  “Your bosses aren’t in any trouble,” Tarik said.

  The man behind the counter seemed to take some courage from all the grumbling. “Thanks for the assurance, stranger. Look, I’m not sure where you’re from, but around here we aren’t fond of Greencloaks butting into our affairs.”

  Some of the surrounding men muttered words of agreement.

  “. . . no regard for privacy . . .”

  “. . . holding up the line . . .”

  “Go drink your Nectar!”

  Tarik stepped away from the counter. He only raised his voice enough to be heard. “I’m here on orders from Sunset Tower. If any man cares to get in my way, step forward.”

  Rollan noticed that Tarik didn’t reach for his sword. He made no threatening movement. But he was a tall man with a serious face, and there was no humor in his tone. The men who had grumbled found other places to look.

  Tarik turned halfway back to the counter. “I was trying to be discreet. Apparently that isn’t how things are done here. I need to see Monte and Barlow on official business. The orders come straight from the top. You’re not doing them any favors by getting in the way. We’ll return in force if necessary. They might as well get it over with.”

  An outburst of murmurs followed the new explanation. The man behind the counter ducked out of sight, as if retrieving something from down low.

  Rollan heard faint footfalls. “He’s running!”

  Tarik leaned forward, looking over the wide counter. Showing unexpected speed, the shopkeeper popped up near the end of it, leaped nimbly over, and yanked open a window.

  Rollan ran to chase him. Tarik moved to follow as well, but some of the large customers stepped in his way. With a burst of light, Lumeo appeared, and Tarik started throwing punches.

  Essix flew out the window ahead of Rollan, who climbed through in time to see the shopkeeper duck behind the trading post. Rollan hit the ground running. By the time he made it around to the back of the building, the storekeeper was on a barrel, jumping for the bottom railing of a second-story balcony. Before he could pull himself up, Essix swooped at him, talons extended, and raked his arm. The man dropped to the ground.

  Rollan kept coming. The man ran toward the far side of the back of the trading post, but stopped short as Briggan raced around from that direction. The shopkeeper raised his hands as the wolf approached. “All right! Chase over. Leave me be.”

  Conor came around the corner from the same direction as Briggan, just before Rollan caught up to the shopkeeper. “Why’d you run?” Rollan accused.

  Briggan moved in close enough to sniff the man, who flinched away. “I’ve dealt with too many Greencloaks in my day,” the man replied. “Listen, I have a thing with wolves. Especially getting eaten by them. Can you call yours off?”

  Briggan wasn’t growling, but the big animal stood close and had his hackles raised.

  “Not so fast,” Rollan pressed. “Who are you?”

  The man sighed in resignation. “I guess I neglected to introduce myself. Name’s Monte.”

  13 BARLOW AND MONTY

  CONOR STAYED AT THE REAR OF THE GROUP AS MONTE LED them through a back room and up a flight of stairs. To think the man behind the counter had been one of the pair they were looking for! He had done a smooth job bluffing Tarik.

  Meilin and Tarik had caught up to them behind the store. One of Tarik’s eyes had already started to swell, and he had a cut beside his mouth. When asked, Meilin quietly assured Conor that Tarik had dealt out many more injuries than he received.


  Under pressure, Monte had promised to bring them to Barlow using a back door. He warned them that his partner might not be happy to see them. Tarik assured him that it was necessary.

  As Monte reluctantly led the group down a hall on the second floor of the trading post, Conor noticed a flicker of movement behind him, low to the ground. After they rounded the next corner, he waited, letting the others stroll ahead. A moment later, a furry masked face peered around the corner, ducking back immediately.

  “Come on out,” Conor offered.

  When the raccoon didn’t comply, Conor looked around the corner, but didn’t spot it anywhere. The little guy was fast.

  Conor caught up to the others as Monte knocked on a heavy door toward the rear of the building. It was answered by a brawny man with massive sloping shoulders and thick whiskers that came up nearly to his eyes. He stood almost half a head taller than Tarik, and Conor doubted whether he had ever seen a better human match for a bear.

  The huge man glowered at Monte. “Greencloaks! At my door? Really?”

  “They . . . uh . . . insisted,” Monte explained.

  “No surprise there,” the big man said, sizing up the visitors. His eyes lingered on Conor. “I see we have some seasoned veterans of . . . what? A week?”

  Conor tried to stand up straight and look older than he felt.

  Monte gave a nervous chuckle. “They want to have a word with us.”

  Barlow locked eyes with Tarik. “You looking for trouble? You can’t own people. We haven’t done anything wrong.”

  “We’re looking for Arax,” Tarik said.

  Barlow’s explosive laugh made Conor jump.

  “Arax?” Monte exclaimed. “Is this a prank? Who put you up to this?”

  Barlow’s barking laugh subsided, but his heavy shoulders kept heaving. He wiped a tear from one eye.

  “It’s no prank,” Tarik said. “The Devourer is back and he’s after the talismans. We need to get to Arax first.”

  Barlow straightened abruptly and he took a shuddering breath. “The Devourer? What kind of talk is this?”

  “He’s returned,” Tarik said. “As promised. Or at least somebody very much like him. Zhong is under attack. The Wall has been breached. Southern Nilo is at war as well.”

  “This is rich,” Monte said. “This deserves an audience. Some lies are too big to swallow, especially on a full stomach.”

  “I saw the attack on Zhong with my own eyes,” Meilin said. “A huge host bearing down on Jano Rion. I left my father behind to defend the city.”

  Scowling, Barlow turned to her. “Left your father? Let me guess, the Greencloaks took you away.”

  She nodded.

  “When will you people learn to leave kids alone?” Barlow said. “Who first decided to dress them up and equip them like adults? Who keeps the tradition alive?”

  “This is a big issue of his,” Monte said with a smirk. “Don’t engage him. It won’t end well. Listen, we’re sorry to hear about a war overseas, but we don’t know the first thing about where to find a Great Beast, including Arax, so why don’t we call this conversation over?”

  “You’re not bad actors,” Rollan said. “The laugh was a little much, Barlow. And you explained too much at the end, Monte.”

  Barlow considered him soberly. “What’s with the gyrfalcon?”

  “Take a guess,” Rollan said evenly.

  With a flash, Meilin’s panda appeared, and Essix shrieked from Rollan’s shoulder.

  “Are we showing off?” Barlow asked, hands closing into fists. “My bear’s bigger.”

  “She’s not threatening you,” Tarik explained calmly. “Think.”

  “That’s a panda,” Monte said, his smirk vanishing. “A silver-eyed panda.” He looked at Essix warily, then over at his partner.

  “I get the joke,” Barlow said gruffly. “It’s in poor taste. What is this? Who are you?”

  “I left Briggan outside,” Conor said, aware that the animals had made an impact on the two explorers. “But he helped me have a vision. I saw a bear and a raccoon leading us to Arax. Olvan and Lenori thought it had to mean you two.”

  “They’ve seen the ram,” Rollan said. “I can tell.”

  Barlow was frowning, but looked less hostile. “Let’s see the wolf.”

  “You aren’t taking this —” Monte began.

  Barlow held up a hand. “Let’s see Briggan.”

  Barlow took his time examining Briggan, Jhi, and Essix after Conor returned. Monte inspected all three as well, but kept his distance from Briggan.

  “If this is a ruse,” Barlow finally declared, “it’s excellent work.” The big man ran his hands through Briggan’s pelt with reluctant wonder.

  “Are you sure you aren’t hiding Uraza?” Monte asked Tarik.

  “I showed you my mark,” Tarik said. “My spirit animal is an otter. We haven’t found the girl who called the leopard. Our enemy got to her first.”

  Conor watched as Monte’s raccoon hesitantly approached Briggan, backing away as the wolf sniffed him.

  Barlow sat back on his heels. “You want us to believe the big showdown has begun?”

  Tarik inclined his head. “The Fallen Beasts have returned, the Devourer is back and on the move — all the things the Greencloaks have worried about for hundreds of years.”

  Monte shivered. “I’d hoped to be long gone before this day came. Part of me doubted it would ever happen, but it’s hard to argue with three of the Four Fallen.”

  “We need to work swiftly,” Tarik said. “We must collect the talismans. Our enemies have the same goal.”

  Barlow snorted. “This isn’t just a race against your enemies. Do you expect Arax to hand over his Granite Ram? He didn’t during the last war. Do you think you can take it from him? If so, you don’t know him, and you don’t know those mountains.”

  “You do,” Rollan said.

  “We get it,” Monte snapped. “You have a knack. You’re onto us. Essix wasn’t called Deepseer for nothing.”

  This was the first time Conor had heard this term. Catching Rollan’s eye, he mouthed, “Deepseer?”

  Rollan shrugged, his expression perplexed and displeased. Conor could sympathize with the feeling. What other information about their spirit animals were the Greencloaks withholding? Why hadn’t they told them all they knew?

  “So you’ve seen Arax?” Tarik asked.

  Barlow slowly exhaled. “We’ve seen most of western Amaya, at one time or another. Splendor like you wouldn’t believe. Ugliness too. One day high in the mountains, Scrubber showed us some very peculiar tracks.”

  “Scrubber?” Conor asked.

  “My raccoon,” Monte supplied.

  “Like the tracks of a bighorn sheep,” Barlow said. “But way out of scale. Much too big.” He made a shape with his hands nearly the size of a dinner plate. “We followed the tracks some distance. Crazy as it seemed, they looked authentic. We were in high, lonely country. If it was a trick, it was a good one. We knew we might never get a second chance, so we followed the prints.”

  “He was amazing,” Monte said. “Of all the sights we ever saw while crossing unmapped territory, nothing could compare.”

  “I’ll second that,” Barlow said.

  “Did you engage him?” Tarik asked.

  Barlow chuckled. “We were intimidated enough watching from a distance. He knew we were there. He kicked up some wind to remind us who was in charge. When we backed off, he let us go.”

  “Kicked up wind?” Meilin asked.

  “Arax can influence the weather in high places,” Monte said. “Especially the wind.”

  “You really saw a Great Beast?” Conor asked, his face lit with wonder.

  Briggan butted his leg.

  Conor rubbed his wolf. “I meant a full-sized one.”

 
Briggan butted him again. Conor knew he’d made a mistake, and hoped he wouldn’t have to pay for it later.

  Monte glanced at Briggan, then back at the group. “You kids are traveling with legends.”

  Barlow eyed Tarik. “Those mountaintops are no place for children. They’re not even a place for skilled mountaineers. Wait a few years. Let the kids grow up, gain some experience. With the animals they have, they’ll be formidable.”

  Conor couldn’t help feeling a little inflated by the praise. He repressed a proud smile.

  “It’s sound advice,” Tarik said. “But we can’t. We have to take the risk. It would help our odds to have skilled guides along.”

  Barlow huffed and scowled. “I respect your mission. But to my mind, the Greencloaks have always been too willing to prey on the young. We get talked into committing to something before we’ve figured out who we really are. I felt ready at eleven, and I survived, but I’ve seen other young ones who haven’t. The Greencloaks are too quick to sacrifice too much.”

  “We’re in an impossible situation,” Tarik said. “We will not find these talismans without the Great Beasts. If the Devourer gets them, that will be the end of Erdas as we know it.”

  “Aye, but . . .” Barlow sighed. He fixed his attention on Conor, Meilin, and Rollan. “You young ones can’t understand. You can’t imagine what you’re up against. This mission is beyond me and Monte. I expect Tarik has seen and done a lot, but it’s beyond him too. We’re talking about one of the fifteen Great Beasts. Older than recorded history. Strong enough to level this town on a whim. As comfortable on a precipice as you are in your beds. Smarter and more experienced than we can imagine.”

  Briggan stepped forward to stand before Barlow, ears pricked forward and head high.

  Feeling a surge of confidence, Conor stepped forward as well. “You’re forgetting who we have on our side. It’s three against one.”

  Essix stretched out her wings, flapping them twice.