by Brandon Mull
Then, with as little warning as Takoda had been given before, Conor climbed over the channel’s edge and jumped down. Takoda leaned to look, half expecting to see the boy’s lush green cloak still falling through the air. Instead, he found Conor splashing into a second channel, only ten feet down at most.
“Maybe now’s not the best time to tell you all this, but I can’t swim very well,” Takoda said between breaths. But none of them seemed to be listening.
Takoda paused, afraid to jump into the deeper water. Kovo reached for him. Or was he reaching for the satchel?
The ape thumped his back. It must have been just a gentle pat for the gorilla, but Takoda was sent sprawling forward into the water. A moment later, Kovo landed beside him with an enormous splash.
Together, the group waded through even more rapid water. Takoda hurried to keep up, but he was clumsy and out of his element. Eventually, they climbed out over a ledge, between two massive pillars that marked the entrance to the infirmary.
Briggan paused to shake water droplets from his silvery coat as the rest of them caught their breath. Huffing, Conor stared at the sky again.
Takoda looked up and saw Halawir circling closer, as if to signal the group’s exact location. It cried out, the shrill sound echoing throughout the stone architecture of the monastery.
Conor started to lead them down another set of stairs, heading toward an open courtyard.
“No!” Takoda called after him. “This way!” He pointed toward the double doors of the infirmary. “There’s a passage inside. No one will see us.”
Takoda showed the group inside, where a staircase led past storerooms of medicinal herbs, and then all the way down to ground level. It was a massive shortcut, and Takoda felt briefly proud for having helped a hero like Conor find his way.
At the foot of the stairs, they sprinted down the row of granary cells. Water was still dripping off Takoda’s robe, and he was careful not to slip on the stones. Behind him, Takoda heard Kovo’s chains jangling as he knuckled along. They dashed through the granary exit, and eventually out through the mill.
Then it was Briggan’s turn to lead again. He sniffed the outside air, choosing which direction would lead them toward the river. But as he rounded the base of the mill house, the wolf stopped in his tracks fifty feet or more from the edge of a stretch of farmland.
There was a rustling among the wheat crops, and with each passing moment the sound intensified. Out of the tall stalks a savage-looking boar appeared. Its white tusks flashed brightly as it leaped out of the shade and into the sunlight, charging toward the group.
Kovo rose onto his hind legs and beat his black chest with his fists, ready to attack. But Briggan barked at the gorilla and swiftly changed course, leading them away in the opposite direction.
“There will be others. Too many to fight,” Conor rushed to explain. Then he followed the cue of his spirit animal, sprinting away.
Kovo stood down, but not without first baring his fangs at the approaching beast. The boar snorted, flaring its nostrils as it dashed toward them with alarming speed.
They fled uphill between the forest and the outer wall of the monastery. But the boar was gaining on them. Takoda ran as fast as he could, his robe clinging to his legs. The other three quickly outpaced him, and Takoda feared at any moment he would feel the boar’s tusks stab and slice the back of his tired calves.
Takoda could only move so quickly without tripping over rocks. By the time he had caught up with the other three, they were sprinting along the perimeter of the monastery.
As soon as he lost sight of their enemy, Takoda wanted to rest. But the group rushed farther, up a rocky slope. It was steep, and soon none of them were running, but pulling themselves up boulder by boulder.
Briggan barked, and when Takoda looked up, he saw yet another foe had appeared.
A ram with huge curled horns reared back, high above them on the rocks. Bright sunlight glared from behind the animal, stinging Takoda’s eyes. The ram bayed loudly. Then it, too, charged at the four. Its hooves clattered sharply as they hit the stones. For a moment Takoda stared in awe of the creature’s speed, navigating the steep rocks as it barreled forward, lowering its horns. It was as if the ram was carrying the full force of the wind behind him as he raced down the rocks, ready to pummel them all with his bony skull.
Briggan and Conor leaped out of the way, off the rocks, followed by Kovo. But Takoda’s sandals were slippery. As he rushed to push off the boulder he was climbing, he slid, twisting his ankle and then falling forward and skinning his knees with a crash.
Takoda looked up to see Kovo leaping back up into the ram’s path. The gorilla leaned into the wind with his palms open, like a wrestler readying himself. The ram bayed again, charging at full speed. The shrill sound of the animal’s battle cry multiplied as it echoed between the jagged rocks and the high monastery wall.
Takoda crouched, curling up between rocks. The boy knew the force of the ram was enough to send Kovo flying backward into him. Instead, the ape caught the ram by the horns, just before the moment of impact. Kovo twisted, redirecting the momentum of the massive animal and tossing him downhill, right over Takoda’s head. The boy turned in time to see the ram tumble, his four hooves cutting into the soil right in front of the stumbling boar. Together the two rolled far down the slope.
Kovo stood tall on his hind legs, beating his chest. He roared loudly down at them, looming over Takoda.
When Kovo was finished, Takoda tried to stand, but he couldn’t. Seeing him falter, the ape lifted Takoda from under his arms and carried him onto his back. Then he ambled into the forest with the others.
Takoda held on tight to Kovo’s dark hair. Panic still quaked in his blood. His ears were ringing.
For a moment Takoda thought the questions he had about Kovo’s loyalty were answered. He didn’t have to save him, after all. And yet Kovo did, blocking him from harm with his own body. But then he remembered the satchel around his neck, and he wondered if it was the papyrus Kovo cared about instead. Or maybe the gorilla was simply itching for a fight, a creature of perpetual war.
Whatever Kovo’s reasons, Takoda was grateful. He clung to the ape’s back, hoping Kovo could feel it.
“This way,” Conor yelled, and the three followed him, crashing through low branches along a steep creek. Takoda pushed his face into Kovo’s fur as leaves scraped the back of his neck. Twigs caught on the strap of the satchel, snapping as they broke. But Takoda held on.
Before he knew it, Takoda could feel Kovo standing taller on his four limbs. Takoda felt the dappled sunshine hit his back, and then full sun. When he looked up, he saw the river. It gleamed blue and green, light twinkling at the far water’s edge, where a boat waited at the end of a long dock.
“Kalani! Get the boat ready for launch!” Conor screamed. A Greencloak on the boat waved back to him, then hurried to untie the ropes. Takoda squinted, trying to make out what her spirit animal might be, but couldn’t find any sign of one. Then he noticed a spray of mist from the water beside the boat, and realized a dolphin was swimming alongside it.
Conor and Briggan ran toward the dock, despite their exhaustion.
Kovo followed at first, but soon he was dashing forward at full speed. Takoda held on tightly as they gained on the others. Kovo raced toward the water as if his life depended on it. And perhaps it did. Perhaps all of theirs did.
Kovo passed Conor, Takoda riding on the ape’s back. And then they passed Briggan, too, as they neared the dock.
But as Kovo approached it, a huge white bear crashed out of the water, blocking his way. Startled, Kovo jolted to the side, and Takoda lost his grip. The boy tumbled to the ground again, nearly rolling into the water. His satchel was thrown from his shoulder and onto the muddy ground.
The bear growled loudly. Then it stood on its hind legs, taller than even Kovo. It roared through open jaws, river water pouring onto the dock from its matted white fur. Then it let itself fall back to standing, its t
wo front paws hitting the wood planks with a heavy bang.
Kovo roared ferociously, gnashing his teeth. Briggan snarled from behind the ape, still running toward the dock.
Kalani, the Greencloak on the boat, cried out for the group to hurry, a rope coiled tightly in her hands. Takoda could see that she was struggling to hold the boat in place against the river’s current.
The white bear swatted a huge paw in Kovo’s direction as the two faced off. Kovo burst forward suddenly, his enormous hand snatching a fistful of the polar bear’s fur. But just as it looked like Kovo might win the upper hand, the bear disappeared into a flash of light.
“Children,” Takoda heard a snide voice say. “Where do you think you’re going?”
They all turned to see a bearded man walking toward them. His dark tunic was open at his chest, caught in a chilling breeze. There on his chest, stretching high onto the muscles of his shoulder, was the tattoo of the white bear. And across from it, an outstretched boar. The ram and eagle were partially visible as well.
Takoda wondered, How many spirit animals can one person have? How many others are hidden under that tunic?
But as frightening as the sight of all those tattoos might have been, it was the mark on the man’s forehead that turned the boy’s blood cold. The same bloody spiral from Kovo’s drawings pulsed there, like a third eye.
“I don’t know what you’re planning, but you won’t get away with it, Zerif,” Conor said. The man ignored him.
As Zerif stepped toward them, a wicked smile stretched across his face. Kovo stumbled backward, nearly crushing the satchel. The ape picked it up and slung the leather strap around his own neck.
Takoda pushed himself to his feet. His ankle was tender, but it wasn’t broken. If we all make a run for the boat, will I make it? he thought. Or will they leave me behind?
Zerif reached into his pocket and pulled out a small black bottle. Briggan growled from the dock as soon as he saw it. Takoda looked wildly from the boat to Conor, and from Briggan to Kovo. Every one of them stood frozen in anticipation as Zerif pulled out the cork stopper. But not Takoda.
“Run!” he screamed, not waiting to see what evil was about to be unleashed. He dashed as quickly as he could up the dock and toward the boat, with Kovo following his lead. Kalani passed him the taut rope. Then she drew a throwing spear from the floor, and before Takoda knew what was happening behind him, she drove it heavily toward Zerif.
Takoda turned to see if the spear had hit, but it was Conor who cried out in pain. He had accidentally run into the spear’s path. He covered a wound on his wrist, pulling his arm to his chest.
“No!” Kalani cried.
Briggan knocked Zerif to the ground, but the man freed himself almost immediately. He grabbed the wolf by the scruff of his neck and managed to lift the massive animal off the ground as he stood.
“At last!” Zerif cackled, raising the bottle to Briggan’s snout. Takoda watched as something small and dark twisted inside the glass.
All eyes were on the bottle as Conor threw himself into Zerif’s side. Briggan fell to the ground, and so did the bottle. It bounced and rolled quickly toward the river. But before falling into the rushing water, something dark writhed out of it and onto the wet ground. It was a worm, or a slug. Takoda wasn’t sure, but he watched it in horror. Whatever it was, it slithered in Briggan’s direction with otherworldly speed. It moved like a shadow across the ground, twisting over rocks and bubbling across the surface of a mud puddle.
Briggan yelped and whined, tripping over the foot of the dock as he tried desperately to back away. Conor freed himself from Zerif’s grip, pushing to his feet. He pulled out his ax and struck the worm, mere inches away from the wolf’s paw. Then Conor stomped at the ground violently as Zerif stood, the same strange smile on his face.
Conor must have seen it, too, because he made a break for it, down the dock. He and Briggan leaped on board just as Takoda let go of the rope. Immediately, the boat jolted forward, downstream.
Kalani rushed to Conor, hurrying to care for the wound her spear had left at the boy’s wrist. As Takoda watched, feeling helpless, he was startled by a slither of movement at his neck. It was only Kovo, returning the satchel. Still, he shuddered involuntarily, thinking of the strange worm on the dock.
“Thank you,” Takoda said as the ape lowered the strap around the boy’s neck.
Takoda and Kovo turned to watch Zerif as the boat hurried away. The boy expected him to send Halawir into the air after them, or perhaps there was some slithering sea serpent he’d let lose into the water with a flash.
Instead, the menacing man simply waved from the shore, the same unmistakable smirk on his face.
“What was that?” Takoda asked Kovo. But the ape didn’t have an answer.
Just then, they heard Conor drop his ax.
When Takoda looked, he saw a severed half of the worm twisting up Conor’s middle finger and the back of his hand. Conor tried desperately to shake the worm loose and into the water, but it was much too quick.
Before any of them knew what was happening, it wiggled into the wound at Conor’s wrist, then disappeared. Conor clamped a hand down over the wrist, hissing between his teeth.
Takoda gasped, and Kalani’s hands covered her mouth.
Conor’s eyes were wide, staring down at his wrist. Whatever was happening beneath the skin, he covered it from view of the others.
“What was that thing?” Takoda asked. “What … what do we do?”
Conor seemed to come to. He pulled his wrist weakly to his chest, casting a glance at Takoda. There was so much in that look—fear, anger, disappointment. Takoda himself had felt those very same things the moment he summoned Kovo.
He’s wondering if I’m worth it, Takoda realized bleakly.
“We have to get to Greenhaven,” Conor said. His voice was tight with barely restrained emotion. “I have a feeling things are about to get worse.”
ROOTS AND VINES SNAGGED AT HER ANKLES AS RAISHA made her way along the uneven path between the ferny shrubs, a yoke across her shoulders, water buckets dangling at either end. Dense branches interlocked overhead, filtering the sun’s rays into a greenish twilight. The steamy air tasted of damp leaves. Perspiration greased her skin.
She tromped forward, the muscles in her legs burning, her sense of balance faltering. High above, monkeys shrieked and tropical birds squawked. Who knew what else prowled unseen in the underbrush? The jungles of southern Zhong housed many predators, including tigers, leopards, and giant constrictors.
Would it be so bad to become a meal for a tiger? What if a venomous snake struck her?
No. The guards wouldn’t allow it. Death would be a form of escape. They’d find a way to intervene. If a giant constrictor swallowed her, who would haul water from the outpost? Urban’s precious mule might have to pitch in.
Somewhere up ahead, concealed by trees and foliage, loomed the Mire, a Greencloak prison built on an island of muck in the midst of a tropical swamp. Dripping cells, mossy yards, and leaning towers combined to form a hideous abomination of iron, stone, and mildew—the entire complex slowly sinking into the bog.
Raisha had first arrived with escape on her mind. But tight security, high walls, and the surrounding wetlands soon showed her why the Greencloaks had transferred her there. Prisoners did not escape from the Mire. The other inmates seemed resigned to their fate.
Multiple wells inside the prison offered fresh water, but the prison’s warden insisted that those in her custody haul their own water from the nearest Greencloak outpost in order to get exercise. Raisha suspected the real reason was to exhaust and dishearten the inmates by working them like slaves. But the chore did provide certain opportunities.…
“Pick up the pace,” Urban called over his shoulder. A pudgy man astride a mule, the Greencloak’s dark eyes glared at her from beneath a sloppy crown of knotted rags.
Grunting, Raisha walked faster. Every other day since arriving at this awful place, she had
followed Urban on his mule from the outpost, watching the animal’s furry haunches rock from side to side as it plodded along.
But today things were a bit different. Today she had poured extra water into her buckets—twice the normal load. Working hard was part of her plan.
“I’m twelve,” she reminded Urban.
“Old enough to commit adult crimes and get sent to a very adult prison,” Urban said. “Only criminals designated as threats to all of Erdas join us here in the tropics.”
“I was used,” Raisha insisted.
“You helped to separate people from their spirit animals,” Urban accused. “Is any crime more despicable?”
“It’s a favor if your spirit animal is a mule,” Raisha said, panting.
“Brave words from somebody without an animal companion,” Urban scoffed. “Good thing you don’t have one. The poor creature would have little freedom.”
Raisha still harbored a hope that she might summon an animal one day. But no way was she going to share that with this annoying guard. “Isn’t your mule just as trapped as my animal would be?”
Urban gave a derisive laugh. “Lucky loves the jungle, don’t you, boy?” He patted the mule. “We’re only at the Mire part of each day. And our assignment here will end in a year or so. What are your prospects? Thirty years, minimum, if I remember.”
“Yes,” Raisha said, lowering her eyes.
The Greencloak rode in silence for a few blessed moments. “Come now,” Urban said finally, his voice softening a touch. “You have to accept what you did. You were caught and now you’re here. It’s reality—but this doesn’t have to be the end for you. Take responsibility for your crimes. Shape up. You can still make something of yourself.”
Raisha would have scoffed if she weren’t running out of breath. Who was this guy to talk? Some backwoods turnkey on a shabby mule. She didn’t want or need encouragement from her captors.
Bowing her head, she concentrated on walking. She’d made this trek several times now, and it was never easy, but the extra water she had added was making it impossible. Her legs were rubbery, and her balance was becoming untrustworthy. She staggered, sloshing water from the buckets.
