“Still recovering. Phos Astos will never be the same, but it’s being rebuilt … slowly.”
“Sounds like several places we’ve seen,” Anka said.
Xanthe scanned the room. “Who said that?”
“Oh.” Meilin spun around. “That’s Anka. I forgot to introduce the two of you. Anka, Anka, where are you?”
“Right here.” Anka stepped away from a purple curtain in a dark corner of the room, her skin and clothing changing from purple to their natural coloring. “Don’t mind me. Nobody does. Pleasure to meet you, Xanthe.”
“Uh, yes, nice to meet you, too,” Xanthe replied as Anka moved into the shadows and blended back into her surroundings.
That was when the group noticed him: a large looming figure who sat in the darkest corner of the space, draped in shadow and staring out the window. His massive back was turned to the group, but there was no mistaking him.
Kovo.
“Guess we don’t merit even a glance from him,” Abeke speculated.
“That’s not it,” Takoda explained. “Ever since we stopped the Wyrm, Kovo’s gone almost completely silent. He rarely communicates with me, and he refuses to go into passive form.”
Rollan cautiously drew closer to the Great Ape. “Is something wrong? Did someone take his banana away?”
Takoda shook his head. “It’s part of his healing journey. Being here has given him the peace to deal with the things he’s done in the past. He wants, no, he needs time for himself.”
“Hmpf.” Meilin didn’t seem to be buying it.
“So he won’t be able to give us information on Stormspeaker or the Dragon’s Eye?” Conor asked.
“Afraid not,” Takoda said. “He won’t react to anyone.” He looked to one of the corridors, where some of the monks were carrying trays of food. “I’ll get you some dinner. Sit and rest for a moment.”
Xanthe escorted them to one of the tables. “So those things you mentioned … what are they?”
“Important gifts we have to find for the Greencloaks,” Abeke said, being purposefully vague.
“It’s too bad Kovo can’t help,” Xanthe said.
“We’ll see about that.” Rollan got up from the table and walked over to Kovo. He stood directly in front of the gorilla, looking up at him.
“Rollan … ” Meilin didn’t sound pleased. “What are you doing?”
“I want to see if he’s really as unaware as he’d have us believe.” Rollan clapped his hands loudly in front of Kovo’s red eyes, but the giant gorilla didn’t even blink.
“Rollan!” Abeke raced over and pulled Rollan away just as he began waving his hands in front of Kovo’s face.
“Are you crazy?” Abeke shook her head in disbelief. “Kovo could toss you out that window!”
“We need answers, right?” Rollan broke away from Abeke’s grip and returned to stand in front of Kovo. “Listen, you giant hairball, we need to find Stormspeaker and the Dragon’s Eye. If you’re as smart as you pretend to be, prove it by telling us where they are.”
Silence.
Rollan stood on his toes to get eye-to-eye with Kovo. “You really are one ugly, selfish—”
“Rollan!” Takoda had returned, carrying a tray with several plates of food.
Rollan continued. “Foul-smelling, mangy, good-for-nothing waste of—”
Takoda slammed the tray down on the table and began marching toward Rollan.
“An unwise move, brave Amayan warrior,” an unfamiliar voice called out from the hall’s entryway, stopping Takoda in his tracks. “Best not to taunt someone who can later exact revenge. Kovo can hear you; he only chooses not to react … yet.”
Rollan’s mouth twitched and he swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat. He peered around Kovo’s massive chest and saw an old man, his back bent down with the weight of the years, leaning on a gnarled, wooden cane for support. “Yes, well, I was only trying to provoke a reaction, so he’d snap out of it and help us.”
“Reacting out of anger or fear is rarely a good decision. A lesson for Kovo … and perhaps for you.”
Rollan was about to respond when Takoda interjected.
“Everyone, I want to introduce you to the Honorable Naveb of Maktaba.” He paused as the old man gave the group a slight nod. “He’s one of our esteemed elders and our greatest librarian. He knows where to find all sorts of secrets.”
Meilin bowed in acknowledgment of the elder. “Sir, we’re looking for information about—”
“Yes, yes.” The old man raised a hand. “I may be old, but I could still hear the instigator over there while he was tormenting Kovo.”
“That’s not exactly what—” Rollan stopped speaking as Abeke gave him a gentle nudge. Silence was a virtue that often escaped Rollan.
“I see you’re from this land.” Naveb motioned to Abeke. “I hope you are brighter than your friend there.”
“Sir,” Abeke responded with respect, “we each have our unique strengths, which—”
“Blah, blah, blah.” Naveb turned around. “Well, come on. Grab your food and let’s go. I’m not getting any younger.” He headed down a dimly lit hallway. “We have work to do … if you can pass the test.”
MEILIN EYED THE OLD MONK. HE WAS BALD, WITH A short white beard that stood out against his dark skin. His cane tapped the stone floors with a deliberate, rhythmic pattern as he led the group down the maze of corridors. At first glance, the old man appeared frail and unsteady, but to Meilin there was something in the way he had held her gaze that made her think he was much more.… She just didn’t know what.
“Where are we going?” Meilin whispered to Xanthe.
“One of the libraries, I think,” she answered. “There are several of them here.”
They entered a large circular room filled with thousands of books, piled all the way to the rafters. Meilin could only marvel at the size of the place. She’d seen many libraries in her lifetime, but this one room rivaled the largest of them.
Naveb waited for them in the center of the room. He stood motionless, his eyes closed and both of his hands resting on his cane.
One minute passed, then another.
Meilin glanced at Takoda, hoping he’d reveal a clue about what was happening. He merely shrugged. The silence had become uncomfortable. They were wasting time … time that could be spent looking for the bond tokens. Was this part of the test he’d mentioned? Meilin considered bringing Jhi out of passive state so she could give Meilin the serenity to see things clearly, perhaps pick up on some cues they were overlooking.
“Um, Master Naveb, are we waiting for something?” Conor asked.
Naveb did not answer, but instead approached Conor. He stared at the faint mark of the Wyrm on his forehead, then narrowed his eyes in recognition of the symbol. “Ah, so you are the one. The Greencloak who took Takoda from the monastery. The one who succumbed to the Wyrm in Sadre, and eventually turned on him and all his allies.”
“Yes, but what happened there … I didn’t have a choice,” Conor explained hastily.
“There’s always a choice,” Naveb responded sharply. “And you made yours.”
“No, no. You don’t understand. I had no control.” Conor rubbed the mark, as if he could wipe away its stain.
Meilin’s blood began to boil. She could not allow this man to insult Conor for being infected by the Wyrm, even if he was an elder. She knew how hard Conor had battled against it, what he had sacrificed, and how some of his actions while under the Wyrm’s influence still tore at his heart. It wasn’t fair to him and it wasn’t fair to what they’d all endured.
“Regardless of what you say, you are not like the others. Not even the instigator.” Naveb pointed to the door. “You will have to leave before we can continue.”
“Excuse me, sir … ” Meilin summoned up every lesson in self-control that she’d learned while growing up in the palaces of Zhong. “But you have no right to say that to Conor. I don’t know what Xanthe or Takoda told you, b
ut Conor is no less than a hero.” Meilin glanced over at Conor. “He is, and always will be, one of us. If he goes, we all go.”
“And do you all feel the same way?” Naveb looked toward Rollan and Abeke.
“Absolutely,” Rollan said, walking to stand next to Conor. “We can always find answers somewhere else.”
Abeke took Conor’s hand, linking her fingers with his, and lifted their intertwined hands. “We’re a team. Now and forever.”
“I see.” Naveb took a step back. “But you won’t find answers anywhere else.” He was barely able to hide a smirk beneath his beard. “You will stay and find your answers here, because you have passed my test.” He walked over to a black ladder with wheels on the bottom. “It is said that those who pursue the bond tokens must be united in mind and spirit. I would never help a fractured group seeking such powerful items.” He rolled the ladder along a metal railing that ran around the room. “Despite being young, you have endured much, and yet you’re still united. That is why I will help.”
Meilin’s mouth dropped open. “So you only said those things to see if you could split us up? You didn’t really mean it.”
“No, I meant what I said. I always do.” He stopped and climbed the first two steps. “That boy is an instigator, and the other one’s choices have set him apart from his friends.”
They were back to where they’d started … being disrespected.
“Most Honored Naveb,” Takoda began, “these are the Heroes of—”
“Here it is!” Naveb pulled out a book from the shelf. He turned to look down at Takoda’s concerned face. “My dear boy, I am not insulting your friends. I am merely speaking the truth.” He took a cautious step down, then another. “Is the one from Amaya not an instigator? Every group needs someone to get things moving, and to lighten the mood when our burdens become too heavy.”
Naveb took his cane in one hand and tucked the book beneath his other arm. “And the Euran boy, was it not his choice to stand and fight on behalf of Kovo—his once enemy—at great risk to himself? His actions have shown him to be kind and selfless. He is forgiving of others’ mistakes … but he has yet to extend that forgiveness to himself.”
The old monk hobbled over to a small desk, set down the book, and looked at Meilin. “Am I not right about your friends?”
Meilin didn’t say anything, but he did have a point about Rollan and Conor.
“You know I am, warrior girl.” Naveb struck a match and lit an oil lamp on the desk. He opened the book, then looked back at Meilin and chuckled.
“What’s so funny?” Meilin asked.
“You,” Naveb replied. Then he returned to the book, flipping through the first few pages. “A fighter who must battle herself to achieve what she truly wants.”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Meilin scoffed, but she caught Rollan and Abeke exchanging a smirk.
Naveb shook his head and sighed. “I was once like you. Pretending to be tough in spirit. You will learn.” He pointed to a page in the book. “Now, Niloan girl, come and look at this. It tells of Stormspeaker.”
Abeke rushed forward and Meilin followed, peering over her shoulder at the book. In the middle of one of the pages was a drawing of a slender, dark-skinned woman with a tall, elegant bird standing by her side.
“Isn’t that Nefrini, the High Chieftess of Nilo, with her spirit animal, Nazir?” Abeke asked.
The old monk nodded. “I see you know your Niloan history, but here is something you won’t find in any other book or library.” He turned the page to a listing of property owned by Nefrini. At the very top was the word Stormspeaker.
“Whoa,” Abeke muttered. “Stormspeaker was hers and Nazir’s.”
“What does it say about the bond token?” Conor asked.
“It describes Stormspeaker as being made of gold, with a brilliant green stone in its center,” Meilin said.
Abeke ran her finger down the page, looking for another clue. “But not what it is or where to find it.”
“As you are a hunter, I thought you’d be more observant,” Naveb chided. “Your prey is not always in front of you, but sometimes behind you.”
Abeke glanced at Conor standing in the back, then realized what Naveb meant. “The earlier page. The one with the drawing.”
“Perhaps there is hope for you yet,” Naveb said, flipping back to the image of Nefrini.
“Stormspeaker is her crown!” Abeke exclaimed.
Anka appeared next to Abeke, squeezing past Conor, Rollan, and Meilin. “You’re right. It’s made of gold and the front has a bird grasping a green stone in its beak.”
“Not just any bird,” Naveb corrected, unfazed by Anka’s sudden appearance.
“A hammerkop, also known as a lightning bird.” Abeke smiled. “Like Nazir.”
“But where do we find this crown?” Rollan asked.
“Ah … for that we will have to look in one of our other books.” Naveb scanned the room. “I believe the only reference we have is in a journal left behind by a Greencloak who visited long ago.” He stroked his beard. “Now, where would that book be?” He hobbled over to one of the shelves and began running his hand over the spines of several books.
“Did you meet this Greencloak?” Abeke asked.
“Oh, no.” Naveb kept searching. “He visited before I was even born.”
“Then it’s really ancient history,” Rollan said with a smirk.
Naveb either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore the comment. “Here it is,” he said, pulling out a thin, leather-covered journal with the name Tembo engraved in gold letters on the front, and passed it to Takoda.
“Stop!” Sodu burst in and yanked the book from Takoda’s hands. “Master Naveb, you cannot trust these killers. They should never have been allowed entry. Anything they discover might be traced to us. We could be judged as conspirators. Don’t you understand? We’ll be labeled traitors!”
“Sodu,” Master Naveb sighed. “I understand things completely.”
Takoda lunged for the book just as Sodu spun around the desk, keeping out of reach.
“Give it back,” Meilin demanded, stalking Sodu around the desk, while Conor slowly approached from behind. She was waiting for the right moment to attack. “If you know what’s good for you.”
Sodu met Meilin’s gaze, then a slight smile crept across his face. “Guess this book is pretty important, huh?”
Before Meilin could react, Sodu grabbed the oil lamp and smashed the glass on the corner of the desk.
“What are you doing?” Abeke yelled.
Sodu’s eyes narrowed as he held the thin book over the open flame, the bottoms of the pages curling with the heat. “Leave now,” he snarled, “or this book burns.”
CONOR AND THE OTHER GREENCLOAKS BACKED AWAY from Sodu, raising their hands in surrender, knowing that the book he held over the flame might be their only lead to finding Stormspeaker. In return, Sodu’s lips tipped up to form a victorious sneer. But his delight in having the upper hand lasted only for a moment.
Whack!
Sodu’s eyes bulged as all the air left his lungs.
Master Naveb’s cane had come flying across Sodu’s back with resounding speed. Before anyone could react, Master Naveb spun his cane and slapped the book high into the air. He then twisted into a roundhouse kick, striking Sodu in the chest. As Sodu tumbled to his knees, Master Naveb slid across the room and caught the book before it could hit the floor. Slowly, he pulled himself up with his cane and dusted off the cover of the journal.
“Hold on to it a little tighter this time,” he said, handing the book back to Takoda.
Conor couldn’t believe what he had just witnessed. The old monk was an incredible fighter. He was equal parts grace, strength, instinct, and speed. They could all learn so much from him.
“Master Naveb … ” Sodu staggered up.
“Leave this library,” Master Naveb ordered. “We will discuss your punishment later.”
Sodu kept his gaze on t
he floor. “I truly meant no harm or disrespect.”
“Yet you committed both,” Naveb said dryly. “Your lack of trust in my decision confirms what I told Ananda when she sent you here with Takoda. I cannot teach someone who only sees with eyes of fear.”
Sodu lifted his head. “No, Master.” His voice had an edge to it. “I fear only one thing. I fear what your recklessness will bring down upon this place.” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the library before anything else could be said.
No one moved. Sodu had left, but traces of the turmoil he’d brought seemed to linger.
Rollan broke the silence. “I think he may now have a fear of canes, too,” he said with a grin.
Master Naveb shot Rollan a stern look and the boy’s grin disappeared.
“Master Naveb, those moves … ” Meilin said with barely restrained awe. “It was as if you were flying.”
This comment seemed to please the old monk. His face softened and his shoulders relaxed. “Yes, well, once a warrior, always a warrior.” He pointed to Takoda. “Go ahead and open the Greencloak’s journal. If there’s any information about where to find Stormspeaker, it’ll be there.”
Takoda gently placed the book on the desk and opened it. He glanced sheepishly at Conor. “You should probably do this and not me,” he said, stepping aside. “I’m no Greencloak.”
Conor hesitated. “You might not be wearing the cloak, but you’re just as much a hero as any of us. We owe you a lot, Takoda. And we wouldn’t even have the book if you hadn’t gotten us in here.” He placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Go on, you should be the one to read it.”
Takoda shook his head. “But you are—”
“Oh, for the love of—” Meilin gently pushed Conor and Takoda aside. “Why don’t I just read it?”
“Well, someone should read the book, considering everything that just happened.” Master Naveb hobbled toward the door. “Speaking of which, I should go see about that foolish Sodu. He’s had enough time to contemplate his actions.”
“Thank you for pointing us in the right direction, Master Naveb,” Conor said as he accompanied the old monk to the door.
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