“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 one another. 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 ever 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.”
THE FULL MOON ILLUMINATED THE OTHERWISE DARK sky as Meilin and the others departed the ship. Once they were a safe distance away from the pier, Abeke and Conor released their spirit animals. Briggan rolled in the tall grass, still damp from fog, then yelped like a pup playing with a bone. Conor scolded him at first, but then dropped down and tackled him, wrapping his arms around the wolf as if he were a toy instead of a Great Beast.
Uraza pawed the grass cautiously, then sniffed the air. Her ears perked up, her purple irises narrowed, and the fur rose on the scruff of her neck.
“I smell it, too,” Abeke said, pulling an arrow from her quiver. “We’ll be back in a second,” she whispered to the others. “We’re off to catch our next meal.”
As they slipped away, Rollan looked toward the sky and watched as Essix looped through the air. Finally, she flew to his shoulder, settling on the heavy brown cloak. Unlike the other animals, Essix had chosen to remain free, only returning to the ship when she needed a rest. Rollan pulled out a piece of dried fish and offered it to the bird. The gyrfalcon picked at
the food, then squawked. Splaying her brownish-gold wings wide, she took to the air again, leaving the limp piece of meat in Rollan’s fingers.
“See, even Essix is tired of fish,” he mumbled. He took a bite of it, frowned, then spit it out.
“Are you going to release Jhi?” Anka asked Meilin. Anka was hidden, just a ripple beside her. She had taken on the characteristics of her surroundings, and was now just as dark as the nighttime sky.
“We should get moving,” Meilin said. “I’ll release her once we set up camp.”
Anka placed her hand on Meilin’s shoulder. “It’s okay. I think we can spare a few minutes if you want to see her.”
Meilin smiled. It would be good to see Jhi, even if only for a few moments. A flash struck the sky, and then there was Jhi, a mountain of black and white standing before her. Meilin placed her hands on the panda’s plush fur. Jhi was warm—Meilin could have curled up against her right then. Jhi gave the girl a playful lick, making Meilin laugh.
“Yes, I’ve missed you as well.” She hugged the animal. “We have a long way to travel. But don’t worry. I won’t make you walk the entire way.”
That earned Meilin another lick from the Great Panda.
“We’ll only have a few hours of travel before we have to stop,” Meilin said to Anka. “Do you think there’s any way we could travel during the day?”
“I don’t think we can chance it,” she said. “My powers can conceal us, but not when we’re constantly moving. And certainly not over landscapes as open as this.”
“Then we’d better get moving,” Meilin said. “Everyone ready?”
Conor sat up from the ground. A few blades of grass poked from his blond hair. “Where’s Abeke? Didn’t she run off to get—?”
“Already back,” Abeke said, holding up a rabbit. Uraza followed with another white rabbit between her jaws. “Hopefully we’ll be able to hunt more along the way,” she said. “It would be good to avoid any big settlements for as long as possible.”
“We’ll have to stop eventually,” Conor said. “The closer we get to Trunswick, the colder the days will become.” He nodded toward Rollan. “That is, unless Rollan shares his cloak with us.”
Rollan seemed to blush as he pulled the thick brown cloak tightly around him. “Hey, get your own, wolf-boy.”
Meilin rolled her eyes. “Let’s get moving.” She gave Jhi one last pat, then called her back into passive state. “Worthy, this is your territory,” she said to the Redcloak. “Lead the way.”
They spent the next few nights traveling down dusty, rutted dirt roads and twisting paths while sleeping during daylight. Abeke and Conor were able to find food for them, but as Conor had suggested, food wasn’t their major problem. It was cold during the day, and even more frigid at night. Rollan, now carrying the larger of the group’s two packs, had eventually given up his brown cloak to others as they took turns sleeping. The first snow flurries had already begun to dust the landscape. They would need to stop soon for warmer clothes.
But it wasn’t just snow that they encountered on their trek. Meilin also saw country cottages in shambles, dilapidated wooden fences along many of the roads, and the skeletons of burned bridges over small, winding streams. Sheep and pigs, once clearly domesticated, now ran wild, without a shepherd or farmer in sight to watch over them.
“What do you think happened here?” Anka asked a couple of days later as they paused by another abandoned, crumbling home. “Is all this destruction from the Second Devourer War? I thought they would have had a chance to rebuild by now.”
“I’m going to scout on ahead,” Conor said. “Maybe I can find some food. Or somewhere to bed down.” Briggan nuzzled his partner’s hand, then took off up the road. Conor, his ax tight in his hands, ran behind him.
Meilin placed her staff against the crumbling stone wall separating the house from the road. “This isn’t the work of the Conquerors,” she told Anka. “It was Greencloaks, when they were under the power of Zerif and the Wyrm.”
“I only heard about the battles in Nilo and Stetriol,” Anka said.
“They were everywhere,” Meilin said. “The Wyrm wanted to control everything and everyone. And once it had the Greencloaks under its power, it had the perfect army. Mindless, powerful, trained warriors. And we were the heroes of the Second Devourer War. Every gate was already open to us.”
“This wasn’t the Greencloaks’ fault,” Abeke added, her voice huffy. “None of this would have happened if not for Zerif and the Wyrm. They alone are to blame for all this destruction.” She cast her eyes at Conor up ahead.
“I know,” Meilin said, keeping her voice calm. “I’m not accusing him.”
Abeke sighed, and the tension released from her body. “I’m sorry. I know that you understand the truth.” She looked up the road again. “I’m going to find Conor. You all catch up when you can.”
“Should we follow them?” Rollan asked, once Abeke and Uraza had disappeared over a hill.
“No, give them a moment,” Meilin said. She nodded toward Worthy, who was stretched out in the grass. “I don’t think Worthy would mind a few extra minutes of rest.”
Meilin took a sip of water from a canteen, then handed it to Anka. As soon as she took it, it turned a gray color to match the stones they sat against. “But as I understand it, Conor wasn’t even in Greenhaven when Zerif attacked,” Anka said.
Meilin nodded. She and Conor had been deep underground, in Sadre, when he finally succumbed to the Wyrm. She had seen it firsthand, how evil and destructive he’d become. “It doesn’t matter where he was,” Meilin said. “He still feels guilty about it. It wasn’t his fault. He’ll come to realize that, in time.”
“How can you be so sure?” Anka asked.
Meilin didn’t know how to answer Anka, so instead she began reorganizing her bag. According to Worthy, they were nearing a town. They needed supplies, so it would be a rare chance to indulge in some civilization. They could get some clothes. Food. And maybe a weapon or two.
Meilin stood, slipping her pack over her shoulders. “Rollan, want to wake Worthy?”
“More like Sleepy,” Rollan said. “Seriously, how can he nap at a time like this?”
As Rollan walked to the Redcloak, who was now snoring, Meilin picked up a loose stone from the ground and returned it to the rock wall. Jhi could heal a lot of things, but unfortunately her powers couldn’t fix this. “The people of Eura will eventually rebuild,” she said. “Perhaps that’s something we Greencloaks can help with, once we’ve found the three other gifts.”
“You want to build houses and fences?” Anka asked. “That seems so unlike you. So … beneath you.”
“Why? Because I’m a warrior?” Meilin shrugged. “I spent time helping to rebuild Zhong after the war. It’s important work. Maybe even more important than always looking for a fight.” She glanced at her quarterstaff. “Just because I’m good at battle doesn’t mean I want to do it all the time. And if you hadn’t noticed, I’m partnered with Jhi—a healer, not a fighter. Jhi helped me realize there’s more to life than taking up arms every time there’s a new threat.” Meilin watched as Rollan tried to rouse Worthy, to little avail. The boy began sleepily pawing at Rollan’s hands.
“So what will you do next, once this is over?” It took Meilin a second to realize that Anka was now standing beside her, instead of sitting down. “Retire your green cloak?”
“No way,” she said. “I’ll always be a Greencloak.” She watched as Rollan tried to pull Worthy to his feet by his cloak. “Plus, I couldn’t quit. Rollan would be lost without me.”
“Yes, it’s clear that you care for him very much,” Anka replied.
“Yeah, he’s okay.” Meilin would have preferred to have Anka’s chameleon powers right then. She hoped that it was too dark for the elder Greencloak to see how Meilin’s skin was reddening.
“Not every Greencloak is best served on the battlefield,” Anka said. “I wouldn’t last five minutes in a real battle.”
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br /> “Even the best warriors don’t always return from battle,” Meilin said. “That’s just the way war works.”
Meilin became quiet again as she envisioned the death of the Emperor of Zhong. She could still see the snarl of the hyena as it leaped past her. She could still see the emperor staggering, clutching his neck, and collapsing. Then the image morphed, and she was now watching her own father, General Teng, as he died on the battleground during the Second Devourer War. He and the emperor, both felled in similar ways. Both had died in silence, like true Zhongese warriors.
“Meilin? Are you okay?” Anka asked. “You became quiet all of a sudden.”
“It’s nothing.…” She looked at Anka, wishing she could see her face. She valued her friends, but she also enjoyed traveling with another person from Zhong. And a woman, no less.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Meilin began. “What did your father say when you decided to join the Greencloaks?”
“He didn’t know,” Anka said. “He died in battle during the war, like General Teng.”
Meilin hoped that her face didn’t reveal how shocked she was. She hadn’t told Anka who her father was. It still felt strange to talk about him out loud. In the past tense.
“I took up the cloak a few months afterward,” Anka continued. “After everything the Greencloaks had done for Erdas—for Zhong—it seemed like the best way to help.” She gave Meilin a wry smile. “Plus, it wasn’t as if I could join the Zhongese army, could I?”
“I’ll teach you some more fighting techniques when we make camp,” Meilin said.
“That would be good, although I don’t know how much help Toey will be in battle.”
“I used to think the same about Jhi,” Meilin said. “You’d be surprised by the different types of strength we draw from our partners when we fight.” Then, a few moments later, she added. “How long have you known that General Teng was my father?”
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