“There’s no way that line of ostriches can hold against them,” Conor said. “All we can do is hope that Briggan and Essix have already managed to get the talisman before the Conquerors reach the oasis.”
Rollan peered miserably at him. Conor felt his brow dotting with nervous sweat.
“That’s what I was trying to tell you,” Rollan said. “I don’t think Briggan and Essix are going to get the Golden Lion. They were in serious trouble when you pulled me away. I need to go back into Essix’s mind.”
“Trouble?” Conor said, his stomach going tight. “What trouble?”
Tarik frowned. “We’ll have to risk sending you back. Go on, Rollan. We’ll figure out what to do here.”
Immediately, Rollan closed his eyes. Conor watched as his body went limp, and his eyes began to move rapidly beneath the lids. The boy made little gasps. They’d have to wait for him to return with something concrete to report. For good or for bad.
In the meantime, Conor turned his attention back to the Conquerors in the pass.
The first horsemen reached the line of ostriches. Like the last group of Conquerors, they marched forward resolutely, and like the last group of Conquerors, they were felled as soon as they reached the birds. The ostriches’ powerful feet smashed in their helmets with amazing accuracy. The riders hit the canyon wall and didn’t get back up. Their horses scattered, some forward through the ostriches and others back into the infantry’s ranks.
It was no accident, Conor decided, that Zerif was leading a deeper line — he was more than willing to let his soldiers take the first hit. When the first group crumpled and the ostriches were preparing to attack again, Zerif shouted a command.
The lines of soldiers stopped, the archers readied their bows, and they released a volley.
The ostriches whirled in confusion, then began to fall. It was all over in seconds: The surviving ostriches scattered, and the Conquerors poured through the pass. Zerif galloped forward to take the head. He shouted triumphantly as he led his army toward Cabaro’s oasis.
Conor wanted to run down and attack, but he and his friends had no chance against such a large force, especially without Briggan and Essix. Being reminded of Briggan’s absence made Conor want to bury his head in his arm — it was like he was missing a piece of himself. But instead he held his head high. His companions needed him. Briggan needed him.
It took at least half an hour for the Conqueror army to pass through the narrow bottleneck. They strode right into the desert, kicking up a cloud of yellow dust that plumed high into the sky.
As the last Conquerors passed into the desert, Irtike pressed her ear to the ground, gripping Snake Eyes tightly to her chest.
“What is it?” Conor asked. The slender girl made a silencing gesture.
Finally she spoke. “The men the ostriches killed. Their horses scattered, but they’ve calmed now and are gathering on the other side of the cliff, just out of view. I can sense the vibrations of their hooves.”
Conor looked at Tarik, sudden hope wetting his eyes. “If we go on horseback, and there’s only four of us, maybe we can outpace them.”
Tarik was already on his feet. “Let’s move.”
Conor looked at Rollan, laid out flat on the grass, lips moving as he followed Essix in his mind. “What about Rollan?” he asked. “We can’t leave him behind.”
“Of course not,” Tarik said. And with that, he hefted Rollan and carried him down the bluff, holding the boy gently in his arms, like a sick child. Conor and Irtike rushed to stuff their belongings into their packs and then followed Tarik down.
They caught up just as he reached the horses, which were precisely where Irtike had said they’d be, chewing at a stand of dried grass at the desert’s edge. Conor looked at their small companion with new appreciation.
Tarik laid Rollan on his belly across the back of the horse with the gentlest-looking face, then fastened the saddle straps over the boy’s back. Conor picked a steed and fitted his pack to the saddle. Irtike removed the saddle from hers and nimbly clambered on.
They trotted at first, until they saw that none of the mass of Conquerors ahead of them was dropping back to investigate. Once they knew they were relatively safe, they began to gallop. Tarik steered them at a wide angle so they could go around the enemy army.
As they turned, Rollan’s body began to slide from the saddle, until his head was hanging over the side of the horse. Worried for his friend’s safety, Conor nearly called for a stop. But then he saw Rollan groggily shake his head and yelp in surprise as he opened his eyes to sand streaming past.
“Welcome back!” Conor yelled over the wind, grinning at Rollan.
Grumbling loudly, Rollan edged himself back up his horse, and managed to unstrap himself even while riding forward. Finally he was right-side up, galloping alongside them. “I’ve never particularly liked horses!” he called.
His nag whinnied in response.
“I’m not sure they like you either,” Conor retorted.
“Let me tell you what I’ve found out about Briggan and Essix,” Rollan yelled. Tarik and Irtike fell into line, the better to hear while they rode.
“Briggan’s alive,” Rollan said. “He faced Cabaro, but the lion was too lazy to fight. He sent his lionesses after him. Briggan might have managed it, except a group of wild dogs attacked him from behind. Not even Briggan’s command over canines could shake Cabaro’s hold on them.”
“No!” Conor cried. “Is he okay?”
Rollan nodded grimly. “Just. Essix picked off enough of the dogs that Briggan stayed on his feet. But he had to retreat. He’s hidden somewhere in the oasis. Essix rose into the air when he fled. She can’t see him anymore.”
“And the Golden Lion?” Tarik yelled.
Rollan took a moment to rebalance himself as they surged forward, pressing the balls of his feet hard into his stirrups. “Cabaro’s still got it.”
“For now,” Irtike said. “I’m sure he has no idea that a Conqueror army is about to descend on his precious animal oasis.”
Rollan closed his eyes for a moment, then whipped them open and visored his eyes against the sun hanging in the southern sky. “Essix is on her way toward us.”
“Tell her to stay there!” Conor begged. “Ask her if she can spy any sign of Briggan.”
“I can’t communicate with her like that,” Rollan said. “But I think something’s wrong.” He clenched the reins in his hand and closed his eyes. His brow furrowed. “Wait!” His eyes snapped open again, wild with fear. “There are more Conquerors coming through the pass behind us! A hundred or so.”
Fear tingled along Conor’s spine. His horse seemed to sense his anxiety, and swerved off course. Conor had to pull hard on the reins to get it back in formation.
Conor whirled in his saddle. Behind them, he could see a mass at the northern horizon, ringed in rising dust. An undulating, jet-black figure slithered at the head. It looked small now, but was quickly getting larger. It was a snake, and there was only one giant snake that he knew of.
Gerathon.
Conor faced forward, toward the other contingent of Conquerors.
“We’re trapped,” Tarik said, voicing Conor’s thoughts. “They have us in a vise.”
“Head for the oasis!” Conor said. “Out here we’re easy targets. We have to find some cover.”
“And then all we have to do is beat away a few dozen wild dogs and lions!” Rollan called. “Make sure you keep the Slate Elephant against your skin, Conor. Without his extra size, Briggan would already have fallen.”
It seemed to Conor that the wild dogs and lionesses were the least of their difficulties when they had Gerathon to contend with. And Zerif. Not to mention a few hundred Conqueror soldiers.
Essix plummeted beak-first, extending her wings just in time to slow and land on Rollan’s shoulder. Rollan barely seemed to notice as he peered forward. “There’s a stand of trees shaking in the oasis, toward the left side. That’s probably where Briggan is.
If we ride all out, we should get there before the first Conquerors do.”
They didn’t need to voice their agreement. Tarik directed his horse slightly to the side, and before long the oasis was in plain view. Conor’s heart leaped when he saw a large gray form whirling at the eastern edge. Several small brown shapes corralled Briggan, so that he was half in the desert and half out of it.
They sped toward the harried wolf, Conor brandishing his hand ax and preparing to attack. But as they got closer he saw that the wild dogs weren’t venturing past the tree line. Briggan faced the pack from the sand, but they held tight at the edge of the oasis, whining and nipping the air.
Briggan spotted Conor as they neared. His tail began to wag, and Conor laughed joyfully in response. But then he saw the severity of Briggan’s wounds. Because of his thick fur, it was impossible to see the individual gashes, but Briggan’s coat was matted and red in more places than it wasn’t.
“I wish we had Jhi here,” Conor said as they dismounted beside Briggan. Instantly the giant wolf was nuzzling him, pressing his wet nose into the boy’s side, almost knocking him over. Heedless of the blood, Conor ran his hands through Briggan’s fur. He tried to keep his voice calm, for Briggan’s sake. “You need healing.” Unable to hold back anymore, Conor threw his hands around Briggan’s leg. “Oh, I’ve missed you!”
Now that the others were here, the dogs retreated into the oasis, growling and snapping. Briggan slumped to the ground while Tarik investigated his wounds. “Surface, mostly,” he said. “I think he’s going to be okay. But he’s exhausted past his limits, and won’t be recovering anytime soon.”
Conor pressed his face against the wolf’s snout. “You hear that? You need to rest some.”
“Well, I wish we could offer him some bedtime,” Rollan said, staring at the dust cloud kicked up by the Conqueror army as it poured into the oasis a quarter mile away. “But time is what we don’t have. Either we convince Cabaro to give us the Golden Lion, or we surrender it to the Conquerors.”
Irtike pointed to the trail of fallen trees that Briggan had created while he’d been chased by the wild dogs. “That’s the way the dogs retreated,” she said. “I think we can assume there’s where we’ll find Cabaro. I’m picking up heavy vibrations from the center.”
Conor nodded. “Let’s go.”
Briggan led the way, limping gingerly through the trail of broken trees. Still magnified by the Slate Elephant, he stepped over even the largest fallen trunks. The others had a harder time of it. They left their horses at the edge and proceeded on foot, as there was no way their mounts could pass through the dense jungle.
At one point Briggan had to lift them over a tree one by one, tenderly biting into the scruffs of their shirts and carrying them over like pups. The sight of big Tarik helpless in Briggan’s jaws would stick with Conor for a long time. Even in the desperation of their situation, it was hard not to laugh.
Conor began to smell something he hadn’t since the hut in Okaihee, and at first he couldn’t place it. Then he realized — it was the same scent as the lone lion they’d encountered. Conor opened to his mouth to warn his companions, but there was no need.
Briggan was already over the last tree — they’d come to the lagoon at the center of the oasis. The still blue surface reflected the few wispy clouds that were in the sky. The four lionesses were near, two licking the wounds of their companions. They must have been exhausted by the combat. Though their heads snapped to attention when the group arrived, they didn’t get to their feet.
Why did they need to, though, when Cabaro the Lion was there, rested and whole, lounging at the far side of the lagoon? When he saw the team he got to his feet slowly, stretching his head low to the ground with front legs outflung, never taking his eyes off them. He strolled around the lagoon’s edge, then sauntered over to his lionesses. Those huge cats seemed like kittens compared to him. Cabaro had to be at least a dozen feet long, and moved with easy grace and obvious strength.
“Greencloaks,” he said in his velvety voice. “My least favorite of all humans. I don’t know how you got past my ostriches, but you should have taken the hint that humans aren’t welcome here. You’d best leave, before I get really angry.”
Conor wanted to speak, to find a way to convince Cabaro that he should help them protect the Golden Lion from the Conquerors. But when he opened his mouth, fear of the immense beast made his throat close tight.
Luckily Rollan was more unflappable. He stepped forward, bravely brandishing his long dagger, however pathetic it looked compared to the teeth of Cabaro.
“Yeah, well,” he said, standing tall. “You might want to … shut up.”
When Essix cried out irritably from a palm directly above him, Rollan shrugged up at her. “Cut me some slack, Essix. It’s been a long day.”
Cabaro rolled his golden eyes. “The Essix I knew was a Great Beast, not a squawking bird who does the bidding of humans. Are you sure this Essix isn’t actually a parrot?”
Essix shrieked in outrage.
“Cabaro,” Tarik said, standing forward with one palm open, the other guiding Rollan’s dagger tip toward the ground. “My name is Tarik. We have come to warn you that the Conquerors are at the edge of your oasis, and heading inward as we speak. They will be here any minute. I won’t hide the truth, that we believe your talisman will be safest in the care of the Greencloaks — but right now we have great need of your might. As we speak, precious seconds are slipping by. The Devourer is here, and Gerathon. Please, let us help you. Let us all flee, and speak later at our leisure.”
Cabaro had been listening with evident amusement, but when Tarik said Gerathon’s name, a fraction of fear entered the lion’s eyes. He seemed about to answer when Briggan stepped forward. The wolf kept his head low, not in submission, but in a peculiar deference. A long look passed between the two Great Beasts. Conor could only imagine what the two legends might be telling each other with that gaze.
Newly agitated, Cabaro began licking his talisman. He dangled the massive pendant from his paw as he spoke. “I can handle myself in combat — no creature that has ever lived has bested me, not even Gerathon. If she dares attack, I will pounce behind her triangular head like a mongoose, and shake until she can move no more. That will be my reply to her.”
Conor’s heart swelled, in spite of himself. He would love to see that.
“But,” Cabaro continued, “you are telling me nothing I don’t already know. My animals rove all over Nilo and beyond, bringing me news of the other continents. I knew the moment the Devourer had returned, and when Gerathon was freed, a claim I doubt you Greencloaks can make. And I knew they would come for my talisman. They will need it to free Kovo, whose prison was stronger. I was well aware that my precious solitude would one day come to an end.”
Cabaro paced around the edge of the lagoon. Occasionally he would flash something almost like a smile at the companions — he was clearly enjoying the attention, the drama. “But I will never do what you ask, precisely because it is you who ask it. Perhaps I would have listened to Briggan and Essix, had they come on their own. But once I learned they were linked to humans — that in their rebirth they had become mere tools for your kind — the Four Fallen lost my support. If animals banded together and prevented humans from interfering with us, destroyed Conquerors and Greencloaks alike, destroyed every would-be Reptile King, then there would be hope for their world. But we allow humans to run rampant. Why should we be surprised when their desires turn corrupt? The world’s fate was sealed as soon as humans came to dominate it. Ours has been a slow slide into servitude.”
Briggan began to growl softly, while Essix struck a defiant stance, sharp beak high. Conor wondered what they were really thinking, but their conclusion was clear: They still stood on the side of the Greencloaks.
Conor managed to find his voice. “Like Suka,” he said. “You’ve given up on the world, just like Suka the Polar Bear did.”
Cabaro laughed, a strangely raspy so
und. “No. Nothing mattered to Suka but extending her own lifespan. I think her brain must have been damaged from the prolonged cold. I also saw the end of our time coming, but choose instead to live my remaining days — to spend them in comfort and fellowship.”
Rollan frowned. “Conor, is this what I sounded like that day Olvan asked us to become Greencloaks? If so, I give you permission to punch me. Once. In the shoulder.”
Cabaro slinked around the lagoon, his body lazy and relaxed. But there was a flash in his eyes that made Conor uneasy. Then he realized: The lion was edging toward them.
“Watch out —!” Conor started to warn.
Cabaro sprang. The cat was high in the air, and came down with claws outstretched, right onto Briggan’s back. The lion’s teeth sank deep into the wolf’s neck and clamped tight. As soon as the massive Great Beast impacted him, Briggan was prone on the ground, pressed beneath Cabaro’s weight. His breath came only in strangled gasps.
Rollan leaped toward the giant lion, dagger outstretched. Cabaro was so big, and had pounced so far up on the back of Briggan, that the best the boy could manage was to reach his paw. Rollan’s dagger sank into one of Cabaro’s foot pads. Cabaro glanced only momentarily at the annoyance, never lessening his clamp on Briggan’s throat. With a roar that seemed to shake the very ground beneath their feet, the lion clenched harder.
Briggan’s eyes bulged wide, his mouth agape. The wolf wasn’t even able to gasp anymore. “He’s crushing his windpipe!” Conor cried, running forward, swinging his hand ax wildly.
“Watch for the lionesses!” Irtike shouted. The cats were circling around, maneuvering themselves behind the group. Tarik whirled on them, his curved sword outstretched. When he whipped it through the air, the lionesses paused.
Mindless with fury, Conor grabbed handfuls of Briggan’s fur and climbed up his side. Hand by hand, he reached for Cabaro’s pelt. The lion twisted beneath Conor’s fingers, the muscles thick, hot cords within the cat’s body. Once he’d reached Cabaro’s ribs, Conor reared his ax back and sank it as deep as he could into the cat’s back.
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