It all came over Rollan fresh. Tarik was dead. Lumeo was dead. An anguished sob wracked his body.
And then, gripping Tarik’s cloak tightly in his fist, Rollan turned and ran for his life.
WHEN THE BATTLE IN THE OASIS HAD BROKEN APART, Conor and Irtike had fled headlong into the nearest trees, whipping past branches and startling songbirds that rose into the air in waves. Conor nearly ran into Essix as they fled — the falcon was diving in the other direction, to Rollan’s aid, and he soon lost sight of her in the trees.
After minutes of heedless running, Irtike had called for them to stop. Holding Snake Eyes in her hand, she closed her eyes and spoke. “I can sense many feet vibrating the ground nearby,” she reported. “But they’re all behind us and moving away.”
“Oh,” Conor said. “We’re safe, then.” It did little to relieve him, though: If they were safe, it only meant that Rollan and Tarik were probably the ones in danger.
Irtike paused again, clutching Snake Eyes. “There are many mole rat warrens in the soil around here, and Snake Eyes is in contact with them. It seems to be strengthening my abilities. I can sense a large creature shaking the ground above us. It’s on the cliff side overlooking the oasis. Something huge … It vanishes for a second at a time, and then pounds the ground. I think it’s leaping.”
“Cabaro,” Conor said. “That’s got to be him, right? Let’s head up there. We can only hope we find Rollan and Tarik on the way.”
With renewed purpose, they forced their way through the dense foliage. Irtike was the first to reach the edge, and peeked out from between palm fronds. “The Conquerors are all massed at the desert’s edge, where they entered,” she said. “But they’re streaming into the oasis. I can’t detect any up on the cliffs.”
“So we’ll have Cabaro to ourselves,” Conor said, not exactly relishing the thought. “But we should find Rollan and Tarik first.”
“Given their numbers, if we wander the oasis, we’ll probably run into a group of Conquerors.”
“Okay, then,” Conor said grimly. “It’s up to us to get the Golden Lion from Cabaro. Alone.”
Irtike peered up into his eyes. “We can do it.” She didn’t sound especially convinced.
“We’ll have to,” Conor said grimly. “It’s our only hope.”
“Come on,” Irtike said. “At one side of the oasis is a shallow enough incline that we should be able to scramble up.”
They picked their way along the cliff face at the back of the oasis, Irtike leading the way, Snake Eyes tight in her hand. Sure enough, they came to an area of the cliff that was partially fallen — it would still be a steep climb, but they should be able to make it.
Irtike ascended with a sureness that astonished Conor. Her slender feet chose only the rocks that wouldn’t slide away. He tailed after her, choosing the same surfaces she did. After a few minutes of exertion, they were above the tree line. Their position felt dangerously exposed, but he heard no cries from the Conquerors in the oasis, nor could he see any — their enemies were shrouded by the thick greenery. The passage shallowed out more as they neared the top, but also turned gravelly. They switched to all fours when the terrain got clogged with shards of sandstone. As they reached the summit, the vantage point was finally high enough for Conor to see the extent of the army below. Hundreds of soldiers swarmed the far edge of the oasis. The wild dogs were fleeing into the desert, chased by Conquerors on horseback.
The top of the cliff was an open desert mesa above the oasis, the ground made of dry, cracked stone. Conor and Irtike crouched behind a boulder. It was their last opportunity for cover before they emerged into the open. “Cabaro’s vibrations in the earth are near,” Irtike reported. “He’s at the center of the mesa. We should see him to our left when we emerge.”
He leaned out, and indeed saw Cabaro not a hundred yards away. Conor cautiously stepped out into the open, Irtike at his side. He had no chance of besting the giant cat in open combat, he knew, but he figured he’d try to talk Cabaro into putting the Golden Lion into Greencloak hands — maybe now that he could see the Conqueror army with his own eyes, he’d be more willing to collaborate.
Cabaro spotted them immediately, and went from a run to a sprint, heading right for them, the muscles of his long body rippling. Seeing the giant cat bearing down, Conor went numb. His empty hands seemed like feeble weapons indeed, and fear set his pulse to pounding so violently that his thoughts beat against one another. “Ir … Irtike …” he mumbled. “Run. Run!”
Irtike had Snake Eyes in hand, and held him right in front of her face. Some part of Conor noticed what she was doing, and figured she might be saying her final good-byes to her spirit animal. But then something strange happened. Something Conor would have thought impossible.
Cabaro disappeared.
The lion was hurtling forward, and then suddenly he was gone, vanished into the earth. Then he emerged again, scrambling out of a pit. After he’d managed to struggle out, he sprawled onto the earth on all fours. He started forward, but the ground gave out under him again. “What’s happening?” Conor asked Irtike.
She didn’t answer. Conor looked at Irtike and saw she still had Snake Eyes in front of her, staring deep into his ugly face. “Irtike?” Conor asked.
This time the hole in the ground expanded before Cabaro could struggle out of it. Conor was baffled. Cabaro had spent centuries living in this area — wouldn’t he know better than to run where the ground couldn’t support him? Then something struck Conor.
“Irtike,” he said, “are you doing this?”
She didn’t answer, deep in concentration. Sweat was pouring down her face.
The hole in the earth continued to grow. With a great roar, sandstone and soil tumbled into its gaping maw. Cabaro had sunk enough that Conor could only see the top of his mane as he tried to leap free. The force of his jumps only made the ground collapse more, though. With a yowl, Cabaro stumbled and fell deeper into the crumbling rock.
The sinkhole stopped growing bigger, and for a moment its edges quivered. Then the sides began tumbling toward the middle. With a sliding roar, the sinkhole filled in — with Cabaro trapped in the center. Only his head was visible, the rest of the Great Beast immobilized under the pressing soil.
Conor gingerly tested the ground. It felt crumbly under his foot, but held under his lesser weight. Cautiously stepping over the upturned earth to the spot where Cabaro was mired, Conor stared down at the Great Beast. Despite the memory of the grievous wounds Cabaro had caused Briggan, he felt pity for such a mighty animal to be brought so low.
“I’m sorry,” he said to Cabaro, “but we need the Golden Lion. For the good of Erdas.”
The lion glowered at him. The earth trapping him puckered and shifted. He must have been struggling under the surface.
Conor eased even nearer. Best to seize the talisman before Cabaro managed to free himself.
“Irtike, can you help me?” Conor asked. But the girl didn’t answer. Conor looked at her and saw she was totally still, riveted in concentration. Sweat had soaked through her clothing. It was her power that was keeping Cabaro trapped, but she wouldn’t be able to maintain it much longer. Even Snake Eyes looked tired, his little head drooping.
Almost guiltily, Conor reached out to the back of Cabaro’s neck. He lifted the mane to get to the talisman’s clasp, shards of sandstone falling from the lion’s hair. The golden rope was surprisingly heavy, and Conor had to strain with both hands to get it free and drag it off Cabaro. The Great Beast had to be furious, and Conor was grateful to be at the back of his head, nowhere near the lion’s jaws.
Conor carried the talisman over to Irtike, who was still standing motionless, lost in concentration. “I’ve got the Golden Lion,” he said. “Let’s go.”
For a moment Irtike was still lost to whatever inner place was the source of her power. Then she shook her head clear and came around. “I feel … so weak,” she said to Conor.
“Are you okay?” Conor asked.
Holding on to Conor for support, Irtike nodded and nestled Snake Eyes in her bag. She pointed to Cabaro, who was still motionless. “I’m too exhausted. I’m releasing my power over the earth,” she said. “Cabaro will be able to get himself free once he thinks to try.”
“Which means we have to get out of here.”
“Yes,” Irtike said. “Immediately.”
Wordlessly, they made their way as fast as they could to the edge of the cliff. While they went, Conor wrapped the gold rope around his waist, tying it off securely. The talisman bounced against his hip.
As they approached the spot of scuffed earth and open air that led down to the oasis, a nameless dread overtook Conor. Suddenly he wasn’t sure he wanted to see what was below. Sucking in a breath, he forced himself to look.
There had been a canyon running from the oasis up to the mesa, but it was now blocked off by a huge boulder. Conor couldn’t see below the obstruction, but he did notice a set of human footprints heading up the canyon and around the bend, toward the cliff side.
As he stared down the canyon, Conor heard a familiar screech. “That’s Essix,” he said to Irtike. “Come on!”
Together they raced along the canyon’s edge. Essix came into view as they turned a corner, hovering in the open air over the gap.
Down below was a huddled form that Conor recognized. “Rollan?” he called. “Are you okay?”
Rollan slowly looked up, then stared back down at something cradled in his hands.
“Rollan,” Conor said again, waving and pointing at the Golden Lion around his waist. “I have it! We have to find Tarik and get out of here.”
“Tarik?” Rollan said. He sounded confused, as if he’d just been woken from a dream. “Tarik is dead.”
That was when Conor noticed what Rollan was holding. A tattered green cloak, blooming with dark blood, was bunched tightly in the boy’s fingers. “No …” Conor whispered.
Rollan finally released the cloak and covered his face with his hands. “He died saving me. Gar killed him.”
Conor’s heart dropped into his stomach. The world felt too bright, and his body too light. He worried he might faint.
He steeled himself. Everything depended on the Golden Lion. If they didn’t escape with it, Tarik’s death would be in vain. Tarik’s death. His death. Conor shook his head violently. “We have to get you out of there,” he called down.
“You can’t,” Rollan said emotionlessly. “This streambed doesn’t go all the way up. I already tried. It hits a wall.”
Conor reached into his satchel and pulled out the Slate Elephant, the stone cool under his fingers. “Then use this.”
He tossed it down. It rang out against a rock at the bottom, and rolled to a stop at Rollan’s feet.
He didn’t budge.
“Rollan!” Conor barked, surprised by the force behind his own voice. “Pick it up. Now!”
The shouting worked. As if of its own accord, Rollan’s hand reached out and grasped the Slate Elephant, then he placed the loop over his neck. Immediately Essix more than doubled in size. The falcon’s wings were now nearly half as broad as the canyon was wide.
Essix folded her wings and arrowed into the canyon, unfurling them just as she reached Rollan. Talons hooking into his shirt, she seized the motionless boy and lifted, her great wingstrokes gusting rocks and pebbles about the rocky bottom. Rollan shielded his eyes as he was lifted into the air. Essix gently lowered him to the ground beside Conor, where the boy slumped in the dirt.
“We’ll grieve Tarik later,” Conor said. “For now, Gerathon and Gar and a few hundred Conquerors are still out there waiting for us. We have to get out of here right away. Okay?”
Rollan met Conor’s eyes. For a moment his face was blank. Then he reluctantly nodded.
Tarik is dead. The reality of it yawned right below Conor’s thoughts, but he refused to let himself look into that horrible black space. Between exhausted Irtike and overwhelmed Rollan, they’d be lucky to make it out of the oasis alive. If Conor lost his wits now, they were all done for — and that meant the Devourer won. He looked into Irtike’s and Rollan’s slack faces. “The oasis below is crawling with Conquerors. We can’t go that way.”
Irtike shook her head. “There’s a reason Cabaro’s ostriches guarded that pass so heavily. The desert stretches for weeks of travel in the other directions. We’d die if we went any way other than the way we came. And that means passing back through the oasis.”
Conor wanted to collapse. If only Tarik were here, he could hand this decision to him. But he wasn’t here. Tarik never would be here again.
“Okay,” Conor said. “Then we take the side trail back down. From there, we’ll … I don’t know. We’ll have to find a way through, that’s all.”
“It’s the best plan we’ve got,” Irtike said, smiling wearily. She took Conor’s hand in one of hers, and Rollan’s limp one in the other. Together, they all turned around.
And saw the canyon was teeming with Conquerors.
The black-armored men and women had swarmed up the narrow trail, and were beginning to surround Cabaro in the sand pit. Zerif was leading them, directing his soldiers to circle the Great Beast. There were shouts and confusion; Zerif probably thought Cabaro still had the Golden Lion.
He probably also thought Cabaro was still trapped — but Irtike was no longer pressing the earth against him. With a roar and a whoosh of air, Cabaro suddenly pounced from the pit, twisting magnificently in the air. He came down ten feet away, a whirlwind of paws and teeth, bowling over the Conquerors unfortunate enough to be near. The giant lion crouched on all fours, jaws snapping crazily. Zerif cursed and dropped back while his soldiers scattered.
“I think Cabaro’s going to survive,” Irtike said.
“And this is a perfect distraction. Go!” Conor said.
Together they streaked toward the side trail. There were shouts from the Conquerors assembled around Cabaro. Conor could only hope that they had enough of a head start. The companions barreled around the corner, preparing to race down the trail.
And nearly lost themselves in the mouth of a giant serpent.
Gerathon was slithering up the path, her huge muscular body filling the narrow space. She’d nearly reached the top when they rounded the corner, surprising her as much as she did them. Quick-thinking Essix was the first to spring into action, her enlarged form arrowing right into Gerathon’s hood, where it had already been gashed during the combat at the lagoon. The falcon wasn’t able to build the momentum she’d have needed to do real damage, but Gerathon wheeled and thrashed, trying to avoid Essix’s sharp beak, sandstone rocks crushing to dust behind her.
“Retreat!” Conor ordered. “Back up to the cliff.” He yanked on Irtike and Rollan, and together they spun and ran back up to the cliff top.
But Zerif and the Conquerors were ready for them. The moment the companions left the trailhead, they were surrounded. Zerif made his way toward them through the ranks of his men. He brandished his curved sword, a leer on his face.
Behind them, Gerathon hissed in triumph and closed in.
“Raise your weapons!” Conor said, despite the terror in his chest. Rollan lifted his long dagger. From somewhere in Irtike’s bag, Snake Eyes chittered.
Was this resistance pointless? Putting up a fight would only delay the inevitable — they’d die in this battle, there was no doubt of that.
Then light came into Rollan’s eyes for the first time. “The Golden Lion!”
“What does it do?!” Conor cried as the Conquerors advanced. They were almost in striking distance.
“Does it matter?” Rollan shouted. “Just use it!”
Conor gripped his fingers tight around the Golden Lion and summoned his will. Whatever you have, show me now.
Then Conor roared.
When he opened his mouth, a sound emerged that was far louder than any the Great Beast himself had ever made. As the high-pitched and deafening roar reached them, the nearest Conquerors fe
ll to their stomachs, clutching their ears. Whenever Conor faced them, they were physically pushed back by waves of sound.
“Conor!” Irtike cried. He turned and saw an oversized hyena approaching. Its eyes were crazed, rabid foam spilling from its snapping jaws. The beast was cackling and lunging, its jaws almost closing on Irtike’s leg.
When Conor faced it and opened his mouth, the hyena was thrown back by the roar. The noise was painfully loud for Conor, but he could only imagine how much worse it was for the hapless creatures in front of him.
With Rollan and Irtike tight at his back, Conor swept in a circle, the cone of force pushing Conquerors back wherever it pointed. By training his roar on any Conquerors that tried to rush forward, Conor was able to keep them at bay.
Even Gerathon was held back by the sound. She writhed and twisted, her body curling over itself, mashing the unlucky Conquerors trapped between her scales and the ground.
“What now?!” Rollan shouted over the roar.
“We’re still trapped,” Irtike said.
Conor released the lion for a moment and took a big breath, wiping the back of his hand over his lips. “Maybe we can move through them, and if I spin around fast enough they won’t be able to get near enough to attack,” he said.
“I have a better idea,” Irtike said. “The ground is trembling from the sinkhole, and the weight of the army, and now all that noise. It wouldn’t take much for this whole cliff to give way.” She dug in her bag and pulled out Snake Eyes. He cringed in her hand, clearly in pain from all the roaring. “I know you’re tired, but I need your help one more time, okay?”
The ground started to ripple and shudder. Shouts rose among the Conquerors, and Gerathon, despite her pain, raised her head, hood outstretched terrifyingly. “Get back!” she hissed at the Conquerors.
But it was too late.
The earth shook beneath him, and Conor turned toward the precipice just in time to see the edge pour down into the oasis below, as if all the sandstone had turned to water. The ground sighed toward the ring of jungle.
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