Conor looked back out the window and started into the distance. “It could be a mirage, but I think I see land in the distance.”
“I just spoke with the captain,” she said. “We’ll reach port soon.”
Conor grinned. Eura. Green fields. Light blue skies and a cool breeze on his face. “Do you think I’ll be able to see my family?” Conor asked. Although he had seen them recently, he always loved spending time with his parents and brothers. He didn’t even mind getting up early in the morning to herd and shear the sheep. Seeing his family helped to remind Conor that as a Greencloak, he not only fought to protect Erdas, he also fought to protect those closest to him.
“I could show you guys a real Euran meal,” he continued. “Shepherd’s pie and all.”
Abeke frowned, which was more than enough of an answer for him. Rollan had gone to see his mother in Amaya, and as a result, the Oathbound had almost captured them. If it weren’t for Worthy, they probably wouldn’t have escaped.
Abeke saw something in his face—perhaps worry for his family—because she suddenly smiled and said, “Maybe the bounties put out for us by the Oathbound haven’t yet reached all parts of Erdas. If so, and if time allows, I’m sure you’ll be able to see your family. And it would be nice to have a normal meal for once.” She turned to their friends, still asleep. “We should wake the others.”
“You wake up Rollan,” Conor said, pointing to one of the cots on the other side of the room. “He’s always cranky when he doesn’t get enough sleep.”
Conor went to rouse Worthy and Anka while Abeke crossed their quarters. Worthy was curled into a fetal position on his bed, his red cloak draped over his body. Conor wasn’t sure, but he thought that he might have been purring in his sleep.
“Get up, Worthy,” Conor said, giving him a slight nudge.
The Redcloak yawned and stretched, his golden eyes blinking behind his white, cat-shaped mask. Worthy tried to stand, but became unbalanced with the shifting of the ship. He slowly sunk back to the flat mattress. “You should have woken me when we reached land.”
Conor shook his head. In addition to his heightened reflexes and strength, Worthy had also gained his former spirit animal’s dislike of water—and a black tail that he preferred no one talk about. Conor wondered what other traits Worthy had inherited when he merged with the wildcat. Hopefully he wouldn’t start shedding or hacking up hairballs.
Anka stirred in the bunk beside Worthy. At least Conor assumed it was Anka. Thanks to her chameleon’s powers, she had blended in with the threadbare blue blanket covering her, making her almost invisible to the eye. As she sat up, her skin shifted from the muted blue to a warm brown, matching the planks on the cabin walls.
Across the room, Meilin and Rollan yawned. Meilin jumped out of bed, but Rollan remained in the adjacent bunk, pulling his thick brown cloak around him and squeezing his eyes shut. The cloak had seemed too warm for Amaya, but it would serve him well on their journey through Eura. Conor knew how cold the nights could get, and he wondered if they had been too hasty in leaving their trusty green cloaks along the roadside in Amaya.
“I don’t always agree with Worthy, but he kind of has a point,” Rollan said. “How about you wake us up when we get there?”
Meilin leaned over and thumped Rollan’s ear. “Don’t you want breakfast?”
Rollan groaned. “Salted flounder and stale biscuits. For the tenth day in a row.” He faked a smile. “Yum.”
Meilin thumped his ear again. “You’ve had worse. Remember that meal of seal fat in the Ardu settlement?”
“Don’t remind me,” he said, rubbing his ear. “I’ll take the fish.”
“First things first,” Anka said, rising from the bed. Her skin a transparent blur. “Worthy, now would be a good time for you to fill us in on everything you know about the next gift.”
Worthy leaned back against the wall with his hands behind his head. He had seemed to enjoy withholding this information from them, probably because he wanted to make himself feel more important. For Worthy’s sake, Conor hoped that he really knew where the next gift was. If not, Meilin was liable to toss him overboard.
Worthy’s gaze settled on Conor. “Do you remember the stories about the great Euran warrior and his black wildcat?” he asked him.
Conor nodded. “A little. The rumors were that the wildcat was as large as Tellun.”
“No, even larger,” Worthy said. “The beast’s booming roar was as loud a thousand erupting volcanoes. Its fur was as dark as midnight during a lunar eclipse, and its diamond-forged claws and teeth could shred the densest of rock.”
“I bet it couldn’t slice the armor of the famous Amayan gila monster,” Rollan mumbled.
Meilin, who was now sitting on the bed beside Rollan, jutted her elbow into his side. “Hush,” she warned.
“There was also a rumor about the warrior wielding a powerful sword,” Worthy continued. “Its hilt contained a yellow gem that matched the beast’s eyes. And its blade was supposedly as sharp as the black wildcat’s claws.” Worthy paused. “That’s what they called it: the Wildcat’s Claw.”
“Do you know where this sword is?” Abeke asked.
He shook his head. “We used to have a replica of the sword at Trunswick Manor. I used it during the war—that is, until it broke. So much for it being forged from the finest Trunswick iron. Anyway, while it wasn’t the real thing, my father kept all sorts journals and histories about to our local legends at the manor. It was sort of an obsession of his. His library would be the best place to research the location of the real Wildcat’s Claw.”
Conor had remembered seeing the replica of this sword, but only once, when he was working as a servant to Worthy. Worthy had just been the spoiled Devin Trunswick back then, and Conor had been a simple shepherd’s son. How times had changed.
“Without any other leads, it seems like our best course of action is to travel to Trunswick,” Meilin said. She had risen from the bed, and was now spinning a quarterstaff around herself. “Hopefully we can find the records that will lead us to the real sword.”
Conor knew he was beaming, and he didn’t even try to hide it. Trunswick! Perhaps he would be able to see his family after all. They lived close to the city, easily within a day’s travel.
“We’ll need more supplies,” Abeke said. “The weather will not be as forgiving as Amaya.”
“There are plenty of trading posts on the way to Trunswick,” Worthy said. “I think I have enough money to get us what we need.”
“Yes, thank you for that,” Anka said. “After so many days on the road, it was nice to sleep in a real bed.”
“Don’t thank me,” he said. “Thank the Redcloaks. Shane left us a small fortune when he … you know …”
Conor was glad that Worthy didn’t finish his statement. Abeke had turned toward the wall, away from them. Shane, the former leader of the Redcloaks, had died while fighting against the Wyrm. Abeke didn’t speak of him much, but she’d cared greatly for him, even if those feelings were complicated.
“We’ll need a lot more than clothing,” Anka said. “We need food, weapons, supplies.” She leaned against the door, blending in with the splintered wood. “Instead of traveling directly to Trunswick, we should first gather supplies at the Redcloak headquarters. You said they’re close, correct?”
Worthy tugged at his collar. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he said.
“I agree,” Abeke said. “We need to find the next gift as quickly as we can. The longer we wait, the more dangerous it becomes for us and the rest of the Greencloaks.”
Rollan cleared his throat. “Look, I’m not a big fan of the Redcloaks—no offense, Worthy—but maybe Anka has a point. It would be nice to get some decent food—something better than flounder, anyway. And maybe some more arrows for Abeke.” He glanced at Meilin as she continued to spin her quarterstaff. “And maybe something with a blade for Meilin.”
Rollan had been forced to throw in Meilin’s sword as
part of the deal when he booked the team’s passage. She had swiped the sword off an Oathbound in Amaya, and had boasted about using the blade on Wikam the Just whenever they faced off again. Even though Meilin was perfectly capable of besting most warriors without any weapons, Conor and the others always breathed a little easier when Meilin was well-armed—especially when they were facing an army as large as the Oathbound.
Meilin stopped spinning her quarterstaff. “The Redcloaks are formidable warriors,” she said, almost begrudgingly. “And there are a lot of Oathbound out there, and only six of us.”
Worthy stood and moved to the center of the room. “They didn’t hold off all those Oathbound in Amaya for us to just show up at their front door,” he said. “We all know we’re being tracked. The last thing I want to do is lead the Oathbound to the Redcloaks. If we fail, the Redcloaks will need to be ready to protect Erdas in our place.”
“Whoa! Hold on there, buddy,” Rollan said. “I just want the Redcloaks’ help temporarily. Erdas doesn’t need their protection full time. That’s why there are Greencloaks.”
“You mean the Greencloaks currently locked up in Greenhaven Castle?” Worthy asked. “The Greencloaks jailed at the Citadel?”
“Enough,” Abeke said. “We’re supposed to be the glue, remember. We need to stick together, not fight.” She turned to Conor. “You’ve been quiet. What do you think? Should Worthy take us to the Redcloak base?”
It took Conor a moment to realize that Abeke was talking to him. He was still caught up in the conversation, in hearing his friends argue with each other. If they weren’t successful in saving the Greencloaks, it could soon be them fighting against one another, split among their home nations’ armies. Conor against Abeke. Eura against Nilo. Nation against nation. There was no way that Erdas would survive that.
“How far away is the Redcloak headquarters?” he asked.
“At least a week’s journey,” Worthy said. “And that’s if we can travel during the day. It would be much longer if we have to sneak around at night.”
Conor rubbed his arm. He wished Briggan were at his side. He was always more at peace with the wolf beside him. Just running his hands through Briggan’s luxurious gray-white fur calmed him. “We can’t afford to lose that much time,” he said. “I think we should head directly to Trunswick. But if we can’t find anything, Worthy takes us to Redcloak headquarters to regroup and come up with a new plan.”
Everyone slowly nodded in agreement. The glue holding them together was still there, at least for now.
“Enough talk,” Rollan said, clapping his hands. “Who’s up for some stale biscuits?”
After breakfast, which unfortunately was more fish scales than meat, Conor took to the deck of the ship, dodging deckhands as they prepared for landing. A fog had descended over the sea, surrounding the boat and slowing its progress. Conor could no longer see land, but he knew it was there.
He heard the boat’s floorboards creak behind him. Turning, he saw Worthy slowly making his way toward him.
“For being part cat, you’re not very quiet,” Conor said. “You should take lessons from Abeke.”
Worthy snorted at a few sailors as they sped by, their eyes on the ground the entire time. The crew had been leery of him even since they’d left port—the eyes and the mask made him stand out more than the others. Worthy put on a good show, but Conor knew that the whispers and judging looks bothered him. He’d spent enough time with Worthy—and Devin—to recognize when things got under his skin.
Worthy leaned against the railing, then clutched it as the boat lurched again, his claws lodging themselves into the cracked wood. “We’re close,” he said. “I can smell land, even over all this salt water.” He glanced at Conor. “Look, I just wanted to thank you for taking my side back in our cabin.”
Technically, Conor hadn’t taken anyone’s side. He just wanted to get to Trunswick as quickly as possible.
“During our meal, Abeke mentioned that you’d spent time with your family before joining the Greencloaks at the Citadel,” Worthy said. “Did you, um, make it into town?”
Conor shook his head. “No, I mostly stayed close to home. It didn’t seem smart to travel into Trunswick.” Even though the Wyrm had been defeated, people were still distrustful of men in uniform, especially Greencloaks. For many Eurans, the Greencloaks were just like the Conquerors, only more powerful.
“There’s probably something you should know,” Worthy began. “I … well … I kind of don’t know where the records are that will lead us to the Wildcat’s Claw.”
“What?”
“You see, there was a fire at the manor. It was the only way to protect Dawson.” Worthy shook his head. “It’s hard to explain. I was having a really bad day.”
Conor couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “So where are we supposed to look?” he asked.
“My father probably saved his library before he was run out of town. I hope. The fire wasn’t that bad. The last I saw, it had only consumed the top of the castle. And maybe the west wing. And the servants’ quarters.”
“The more you talk, the worse this sounds.” Conor started to walk off. “I need to tell the others—”
“No! Wait.” Worthy jumped in front of him. He blinked his catlike eyes at Conor. “Please don’t tell them. I want them to trust me.”
“You don’t gain people’s trust by lying to them.”
“I know, it’s just …” He shook his head. “I just want to be important. I want to be …”
“Worthy?”
He nodded. “I want to be a hero, like you all.” He sighed. “The records are there somewhere. I’m sure.” Conor stared at Worthy for a long moment. He wished he could see the boy’s face. His mask hid too much, making it hard for Conor to read him. Finally, Conor nodded. “Fine. We’ll keep this between us for now.” He looked back into the fog. “I just hope you’re right about those records. All of Erdas is depending on it.”
Copyright © 2017 by Scholastic Inc.
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Library of Congress Control Number: 2016962660
ISBN 978-1-338-11665-6
First edition, May 2017
Cover illustration by Angelo Rinaldi
Cover design by Charice Silverman & Rocco Melillo
Art direction by Keirsten Geise
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e-ISBN 978-1-338-11666-3
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