But if they did that, the ship would have no chance of escaping the Conquerors. The speed of the whales was their only advantage, if they could just break free and use it. Without the whales, they’d be dead in the water until they got the sails up . . . if they could even do that in the middle of a battle . . . and then they’d be as slow as the ships chasing them.
She looked down again at the sad, wounded whales. None of that mattered; cutting them free was what she had to do. She’d never be able to fight off all these sharks by herself, especially since she could see even more menacing fins slicing through the dark water now, drawn by all the blood.
Meilin swore and darted back toward Jhi. The panda blinked her soft silver eyes at Meilin, who held out her arm. Jhi glanced woefully at the whale’s injuries and then vanished into the tattoo again.
Once I get back on ship, I can cut the whales free and then help fight off the Conquerors. Maybe with my help, we can drive them off, Meilin thought. She didn’t really believe it.
She turned to find a spot where she could jump up to the ropes — and then she saw a girl in the water.
Meilin blinked, and the girl was gone.
What?
Surely that was impossible. A girl in the water, out here?
Then she saw her again — a flash of dark hair and brown arms, out beyond the sharks.
Is she swimming? Here? Now?
Did she need to be rescued?
The girl’s head rose out of the water and Meilin realized that she was riding something — a dolphin — just as they submerged again.
Was she a Conqueror? A dolphin didn’t seem like the kind of animal a Conqueror would choose to bond with, but maybe.
She squinted through the haze of sea spray and light rain until the girl came up again. Now Meilin could see that she was wearing a long green cloak woven from seaweed. The girl lifted both arms in the air and waved.
Is she waving at me?
Meilin raised her arm to wave back — and then she spotted movement on the closest islands.
It looked like almost a hundred people were suddenly hurrying down onto the beaches and launching long war canoes. The boats leaped into the water and flew toward the battling ships.
Oh! Meilin realized. She was signaling them. The native islanders were joining the fight — coming to help the Greencloaks, Meilin guessed. Well, she hoped.
She looked up at her friends struggling on the deck of the ship.
Would they reach the ship in time?
Would it be enough to save the whales?
“FOOLISH STUPID CRAZY LUNATIC BRAINLESS —” ROLLAN yelled, swinging his short sword furiously at the Conquer or in front of him.
“What did you call me?!” the burly man bellowed, pausing his attack for a moment to glare down at Rollan.
“I’m not talking about you!” Rollan hollered, then kicked the man as hard as he could in the midsection — a move he’d learned on the streets, not in any Greencloak training session. With a muffled “Oof!” the man staggered backward and tumbled over the railing into the sea.
Rollan could barely feel the flash of triumph beneath all his worries. What was Meilin thinking? Running around on top of whales! In the middle of the ocean! Smack in the center of a deadly shark attack! She could be the most brilliant and graceful warrior Zhong had ever produced (he suspected she was), and that would still be the worst idea of all time.
He caught a glimpse of her far below, wielding a spear against a shark at least twice her size, before another Conqueror leaped onto the deck and sent a knockout punch flying toward his face.
Rollan ducked in the nick of time and stabbed his knife up into the man’s bicep. At the same moment, Essix hurtled out of the sky and seized something off the attacker’s shoulder. As she flew up again, Rollan realized it was a tarantula, writhing and flailing in the falcon’s claws. The Conqueror’s spirit animal, no doubt. Rollan shuddered. If those hairy legs had reached him . . .
“Thank you!” he shouted up at Essix. She sank her talons into the tarantula and flung it into the deep water below.
The Conqueror bellowed with rage and came for Rollan. His face was contorted with fury, and blood dripped down his arm.
Rollan tried to duck away again, but meaty hands knocked his knife to the deck, wrapped around his windpipe, and began to choke him.
As he gasped for breath, his mother’s face flashed in his mind. But it wasn’t really Aidana’s face — not with those yellow, inhuman eyes, or the snarling expression. He remembered her fingers around his neck. He’d stared at the bruises in the mirror for weeks afterward.
That was the Bile, a voice yelled in his head. She was being controlled by something evil.
He saw a flash of green as Tarik whirled toward him. In a moment, the hands were gone from his neck; in another moment, the tarantula-less Conqueror was spiraling down toward the growing crowd of waiting sharks.
“Are you all right?” Tarik called.
Rollan nodded, not sure he could speak. He didn’t think he’d even get to catch his breath before someone else attacked.
But then he heard shouts in another language. And splashes. And the thunk-thunk of arrows hitting the side of the ship — along with shrieks from Conquerors who were in the way of those arrows.
Tarik fought his way to the railing with Rollan right behind him.
“Who’s that?” Rollan asked. Below them was a whole armada of war canoes, with brightly painted colors glowing warmly in the sunlight. Green-tattooed warriors grappled with Conquerors, preventing them from reaching the Tellun’s Pride. Others were visible in the water, riding dolphins or orcas, driving away the sharks.
Tarik grinned at him. “Reinforcements. Allies. A welcoming committee. Whatever you want to call them!”
They turned back to the fight with renewed vigor, and soon there were no Conquerors left on the deck of the ship. Down in the water, the rockback whales were moving again, as swiftly as they could, leaving the wreckage of the Conquerors’ blockade behind them. They also left a heart-wrenching trail of blood through the bright green and blue water, but a battalion of swimmers and sea creatures now surrounded and protected them from any more sharks, Bile-enhanced or otherwise.
Rollan kept his gaze on Meilin, who rode crouched on top of a rockback whale. Her dark hair flew back in the wind and her cloak whipped around her shoulders. Her pale hands rested lightly on the whale’s surface, as if she was taking its pulse. She didn’t look up at him or the others on the ship. All of her energy seemed to be focused on the whales.
The sun broke through the clouds as they reached the islands. They were guided into a peaceful lagoon with water as blue as Briggan’s eyes, sheltered by tall island cliffs on either side and deep enough for the whales to swim comfortably. As soon as the whales came to a stop, they were mobbed by islanders in smaller canoes, all carrying baskets of something green.
Rollan saw Meilin stand up. A moment later, Jhi appeared beside her, wobbling clumsily. Meilin gently put one hand on Jhi’s head and leaned in as if she was listening. Then she started pointing to the shark bites and barking orders at everyone swimming or paddling around the whales.
“Let’s go,” Tarik said, nudging Rollan.
One of the ship’s rowboats took them to shore. Rollan thought he had never been so happy to set foot on land before. The weeks of seasickness, the sudden battle, his worries about Meilin — all vanished in an instant as his boots touched solid ground. He even, for the first time in weeks, managed to push his mother’s darkness out of his head. With a whoop, he did a cartwheel in the sand and fell over.
Abeke collapsed onto the beach beside him. Conor looked like he wanted to as well, but Briggan was leaping around him, yipping joyfully. With a grin, Conor picked up a stick and threw it. Briggan raced off after it, but got distracted halfway there by Lumeo the otter, who was jumping
in the waves. The two spirit animals romped playfully around each other, scattering sand in all directions. Conor started laughing, and Tarik grinned down at him.
“What is that face?” Abeke said to Uraza. “I thought you’d be thrilled to be back on land.” The big leopard was sitting beside her, shaking one front paw and then the other. Uraza paused and gave Abeke a disapproving look. She twitched her whiskers and sniffed her paw again, then flicked it at Abeke. A shower of damp sand came off her fur.
“Oh,” Abeke said, patting her sympathetically. “It’s just sand. It’s not that bad, is it?”
Uraza turned up her nose, flicked her tail, and stalked off toward the jungle of dark green trees visible at the top of the beach.
“I hope the rockbacks are all right,” Lenori said, twisting her long hair into a braid as she stared out at the water. Her bare feet sank into the sand and the waves rippled over and around the hollows they left. “Every time I think I’ve seen the worst of what the Conquerors will do, some new horror surprises me. Those whales are innocent, gentle creatures, not even spirit animals. Such brutality . . . such cruelty . . .” She stopped and took a deep breath. Lines of pain were etched in her face, as if she’d suffered along with the whales.
“They will heal,” Tarik reassured her. “We’ll make sure of that. They may be gentle, but they are also strong.”
“I’d like to go out there and check on them,” Lenori said. “Ah, here comes a canoe now.” She waved.
Rollan pivoted to look out at the whales and saw the canoe that was approaching — a canoe with Meilin inside. It slid onto the beach with a whooshing crunch sound.
“I can’t believe you!” he exploded at her before her feet had even touched the ground. “You are the most headstrong, stubborn, brainless person I’ve ever met!”
“Oh, really?” Meilin snapped back. “Then let me introduce you to this guy I know. His name is Rollan.” She strode past him, nodding at the others.
Lenori stopped her, murmured something that sounded like “thank you” in Meilin’s ear, and then hurried down to climb into the canoe. Her ibis stepped majestically in behind her and stood like a long, thin statue in the bow of the boat. Two rowers returned the canoe to the bustle of activity around the rockbacks.
“Will the whales be all right?” Abeke asked Meilin, scrambling to her feet.
“I think so,” Meilin said. “It seems like they’re in good hands.” She released Jhi, who gave a little jump when her paws touched the sand. The panda turned in a circle, looked thoughtful for a moment, then slowly lay down and started rolling on her back. Her huge paws flopped goofily from side to side. Meilin raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything.
“That was amazing, what you did,” Conor said to Meilin in an awestruck voice. “Those poor whales.”
“Don’t encourage her,” Rollan said. “She’s lucky she’s not shark chow right now.”
“You still could be shark chow if you like,” Meilin said, waving one hand at the ocean. “I bet I could throw you pretty far.”
“One wrong step!” he yelled. “And then you’d be all eaten by sharks and where would we be? What would we do without —” What would I do if something happened to Meilin? “Without — uh, without Jhi? Did you even think of how much danger she was in?”
Something that might possibly have been actual contrition flashed across Meilin’s face, but before she could respond, a splash from the sea distracted them all.
Rollan turned and saw a girl walking out of the waves. She was probably about sixteen years old and very tall — taller than Tarik, even. Her long black hair was wet and woven in a braid down her back, and her brown eyes were large and serious. Green stone earrings pierced her earlobes and a silver piercing that looked a little like a fishhook glittered from one eyebrow.
On her right shoulder, a black dolphin tattoo stood out in a sea of green whorls and patterns; green tattoos covered her arms from shoulder to wrist and continued across her collarbone. But they weren’t like Finn’s tattoos, hiding his spirit animal. Her dolphin was the centerpiece that everything swirled around.
“Welcome to the Hundred Isles,” she said, wringing seawater out of her braid. “I am Kalani.” Two islanders ran up as Kalani took off her dripping green seaweed cloak; one took it from her with careful ceremony, while the other handed her a new, dry green cloak. It wasn’t quite like Tarik’s and Lenori’s cloaks, though. This one appeared to be made out of hundreds of bright green feathers.
She settled it around her shoulders and held her hand out to shake Tarik’s. “I am so sorry we did not come to your aid sooner. We try to stay out of the Conquerors’ sight, and we weren’t sure you were Greencloaks. Not until we saw you trying to rescue the rockback whales.” Kalani smiled at Meilin. “In other parts of the world, creatures of the sea are not treated with the same compassion and respect as they are here. But your bravery and kindness toward the whales were clear as day. We knew you must have a great love for all animals if you would risk your life for them — and we knew that, whether you were Greencloaks or not, we had to help you.”
“Ha-HA,” Meilin said to Rollan, tossing her head. “Compassion and respect! So THERE.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “Have some compassion and respect for my nerves next time,” he muttered.
“We are in your debt,” Tarik said to Kalani. “I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t come to our rescue.” He tilted his head at her cloak. “We knew there were Greencloaks here, but there wasn’t time to send a message that we were coming — not one that we could trust wouldn’t be intercepted, in any case.”
“Our isles are overrun by enemies at the moment,” Kalani said. “It often feels like venomous jellyfish tentacles are wrapping tighter and tighter around us. But Greencloaks survive, and we protect our corner of Erdas as best we can.”
The islander who had brought her cloak spoke up. “Queen Kalani will always keep us safe. She has the ferocity of her mother and the wisdom of her father, may the ocean watch over their souls.”
Tarik bowed, low and quickly, so Rollan guessed he was the only one who’d caught the look of surprise on their guardian’s face. “Apologies, Your Majesty. I did not know . . . I had not heard that the former king and queen . . .”
“It was a night attack,” Kalani said, “only a few months ago.” She fingered one of the green feathers jutting out of her cloak, her face shadowed with grief. “My parents were killed and the Conquerors took my two older brothers, we assume to enslave them.” Her dark eyes flicked up and caught Rollan’s, and he saw a hard warrior inside the dolphin girl. He could imagine her running a gang of her own on the streets of Concorba, if she’d been born into a life like his. To tell the truth, he could imagine her eventually running the whole city.
“For some reason, it did not occur to them to try to take me,” Kalani said, emphasizing the word try. “So now I am queen. And my plan is to show them they overlooked the most dangerous member of the family.” She held out her hands, and the way she moved her arms made it look as though her tattoos were rippling like water.
Rollan glanced sideways and saw the admiring look on Meilin’s face. A warrior queen, driven to avenge her parents’ death — that was Meilin’s kind of person, all right. As long as Kalani and Meilin were on the Greencloaks’ side, Rollan figured the Devourer had better watch out.
“You look like you’ve come a long way,” Kalani observed, studying each of them. “Much like ancient sea turtles after a lengthy journey. Why are you here?”
Rollan’s first instinct was to lie, but he was distracted by the startling news that he looked like an ancient sea turtle and didn’t speak fast enough. In any case, his instinct was no match for Conor’s, which was always to blurt out the truth.
“We’re looking for Mulop.” Conor peered out at the water, then back at the tall cliffs of the island, running one han
d through his disheveled blond hair. “It’s really important that we speak to him.”
“You can’t be serious. Nobody speaks to Mulop,” Kalani said, raising her eyebrows. “Do you regularly converse with Great Beasts in your part of the world?”
“Not exactly,” Conor said. “Well, ‘regularly’ would be overstating it, anyway.”
She gave him a puzzled look. “We revere Mulop, but no one has seen him in probably hundreds of years. He may as well live in the darkest cavern of the deepest part of the ocean.”
“‘May as well’?” Rollan echoed. “Does that mean you know where he actually is?”
Kalani’s face clouded and she sighed.
“There’s only one person who knows how to find Mulop,” she said. “That knowledge has been preserved and passed down, from wise man to wise woman to our present wise man. But he’s . . . well, he’s unusual.”
“Unusual how?” Rollan asked. “Believe me, we’ve met with plenty of unusual so far. Rhinoceros riders, underground cities of ice, Conor in a skirt — don’t get me started.”
The green feathers on her cloak rippled as Kalani shook her head. “I can’t promise anything, but I’ll take you to him,” she offered. “Let’s see if he will help you.”
ABEKE SHIVERED AS SHE FOLLOWED KALANI THROUGH THE flourishing jungle. Trees crowded around them and vines hung with bright red flowers snaked down from the branches to suddenly wind around their feet on every other step. Strange birds shrieked and whistled in the trees. Once, a face peering through the leaves made her jump, before she realized it was just a monkey.
Even “just a monkey” could be working for the Conquerors, though, she thought nervously.
That wasn’t the only thing making her anxious. This jungle reminded her of another island — far away, in the Gulf of Amaya, where she had stayed with Shane back before she’d joined the Greencloaks. Before I knew what the Conquerors were really like.
It was on an island just like this where she and Uraza had spied on a group of men testing out the Bile on innocent animals. She’d seen them turn an ordinary rat and a well-behaved dog into a pair of horrible monsters, oversized and violent and nasty. Here, in another overgrown, humid jungle, it was hard not to think of that gigantic dog chasing her, of that terrifying flight through trees very much like these ones.
Against the Tide Page 4
