by Brandon Mull
Briggan lowered his lids and bared his fangs in a terrible angry grimace.
It took all the courage Katalin had to stay standing in front of him when she wanted to turn and run. As she summoned it up, she could feel it — it was her own courage she was pulling on, not just Tero’s — her own pride and defiance, her own burning wish for justice. In the face of the Great Wolf’s sharp smile, each tooth like a spear, she stood tall.
“Thank you for seeking me out, Marked one,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “These . . . Conquerors were not the first. Many of them passed through here recently. They stole something precious to me and escaped with it before I could hunt them all down. Only these three were foolish enough to stay. But I have one more question for you.”
“Anything,” Katalin said.
“Why you? Why are you here? Do you care so much about the fate of the world? Of politics, and Great Beasts, and wars that play themselves out on distant stages?”
She shook her head. “Briggan . . . Briggan, sir,” she stuttered. “There is nothing distant about it.”
“Tell me, what kinds of things have you seen in your mind since coming to my lands?” he asked her in a voice more gentle than any that she’d yet heard.
“My dreams are haunted by the same memories as always,” Katalin answered. “I see my village burn again and again. I see my family . . .” She couldn’t bring herself to say any more.
“You know, don’t you, that I bring visions? I can help people catch a glimpse of their path. Of a possible path, of course. We always have the power to make change. I trust that you have seen clearly. If we allow the Conquerors to continue, there will only be more of what you’ve seen — more war. More burning.”
She inhaled sharply. “We?”
“We,” he said, his hackles rising. “I will help your Marked resistance in your ragged cloaks. I will form them into an army. The Greencloaks.”
Briggan arched his neck back and let out a howl, a sound as big and powerful as the ocean. All around the mountain, echoing howls answered back — Briggan’s pack, responding to his call.
By Brandon Mull
SOARING THROUGH A CLEAR BLUE SKY, ESSIX USED THE AIR currents to her advantage. The wind slid across her great feathers as she banked through an updraft to gain altitude in search of a stronger tailwind. Ahead, a forest spread out before her, a sea of green textures. Behind her raged the fiercest battle ever to stain the fields of Erdas.
The corpses of men and animals were piling up. Before the day was through, the tally would reach into the hundreds of thousands. In her mind, Essix could still see bodies torn by tooth and claw, pierced by shaft and blade.
She, Briggan, Uraza, and Jhi were all needed at the battlefront. Led by the Greencloaks, the four embattled nations of Erdas had united in a desperate offensive against the Conquerors. If the gamble worked, the Devourer would fall, along with Kovo and Gerathon. If not, the ever-growing army of Conquerors would sweep across the continents of Erdas, bringing the entire world under one domineering rule.
The three earthbound Great Beasts needed more time to reach the meeting place, so after they departed, Essix had lingered as long as she could, tearing into the Conquerors with her talons and helping the Greencloak armies adjust as the enemy commanders repositioned their forces. The warriors who had followed her to Stetriol, man and beast, needed her there for courage, for guidance, for protection. The Greencloaks would never have mustered the support necessary to mount this attack without her, Briggan, Uraza, and Jhi.
Now, in their hour of greatest need, she was leaving these armies behind. The Greencloak generals understood the reasons, and had communicated to their soldiers that their patron beasts were not abandoning them. Still, Essix had sensed the despair that fell over the Greencloaks as the Great Beasts withdrew from the battlefield.
Essix had almost stayed. The others could make her arguments on her behalf. She had no love of gatherings. But the appeals would not carry the same weight as they would coming from her. Like it or not, Essix knew how to read her fellow guardians better than anyone, and that could provide a meaningful advantage when persuasion was required.
In this dire hour, Tellun had finally summoned a Grand Council. If all the Great Beasts would stand together against the madness of Kovo and Gerathon, the outcome of the battle would be much more certain. This meeting was too vital to miss.
Below her, in the distance, the clearing came into view. Much of Stetriol was desolate waste or jagged red mountains. Only Tellun could have created such an idyllic forest on so harsh a continent in such a brief time. Stately trees surrounded a flat meadow where tall grass rippled in the breeze. A shallow stream meandered across the clearing, its bed a treasure trove of polished pebbles. A few bulky boulders added character.
The other beasts were there — all except Kovo and Gerathon, who had predictably shunned the proceedings, and Mulop, who would participate from afar. The octopus preferred not to travel, which freed the others to gather in noncoastal locations.
Trimming her wings, Essix plunged toward the meadow, the exhilarating speed focusing her thoughts. Until now, as a whole, the Great Beasts had chosen neutrality in the worldwide war. They had not met in a Grand Council since the early days, when Kovo and Gerathon appeared less directly involved and the Devourer was just beginning to reveal his unquenchable lust for world domination. This would be the last chance to gain meaningful assistance against the Conquerors. It would be no small task to steer this headstrong group toward war.
Essix alighted on a fallen log an instant before the sun reached its zenith — the appointed starting time. Her claws gripped the decaying wood much as a lesser falcon would cling to a branch.
“Cutting it close, are we not?” Cabaro remarked, stretching his golden form and extending his claws. As a physical specimen, none of the Great Beasts could quite match the lion. If he were not so arrogant and disinterested, he might have been their leader. None could rival him in battle. But he seldom roused himself to action, content instead to pursue a life of lordly leisure. Why hunt when he could feast on the spoils of the lionesses? Why fight when intimidation sufficed?
“I did not want to leave the battle,” Essix said. “The free nations are hard-pressed. The fate of Erdas may well be determined before the sun sets.”
“Does this mean we will be hurried?” said the enormous Dinesh, who looked more like a wrinkly gray hill than an elephant. “I did not cross the Deep to dash through a hasty conversation.”
“The day you dash is the day I fly,” laughed Suka. Sitting casually, huge paws in her lap, the polar bear looked to be in a playful mood. When she wasn’t, all of Erdas needed to beware.
Essix resisted a laugh. Briggan, Rumfuss, and Uraza showed less restraint. Draped in silks, shaded by an embroidered canopy, the elephant looked like the exact opposite of haste.
“I came farther than anyone,” Suka continued, “but a quick council suits me just fine.”
“Fools mock,” Dinesh said in a voice like the first tremors of an earthquake. “A Grand Council is no minor occasion. A certain dignity must be maintained.”
A movement off to one side caught Essix’s eye. She swiveled to see that a kangaroo had wandered into the clearing. All of the Great Beasts turned to regard the accidental visitor. The unfortunate kangaroo watched with paralyzed anxiety from the edge of the meadow. The poor creature knew it had made a fatal mistake. Essix could sense its heart rate accelerating.
The relative size of the kangaroo emphasized the enormity of the Great Beasts. Though fully grown and not a small specimen, the kangaroo would barely serve as a morsel for Cabaro. Only an excellent jump would allow it to brush against Tellun’s belly. Next to the colossal bulk of Dinesh, the marsupial seemed no bigger than a chipmunk.
Tellun raised his head high, the tips of his magnificent antlers overtopping even Dinesh. “Let us begin,” the elk ann
ounced. The Great Beasts lost interest in the kangaroo and came to attention. A hush fell upon all of nature. Even the nearby brook seemed to run quieter. Essix looked up at their leader, trying not to succumb to a sense of awe. Of all the Great Beasts, Tellun was the hardest to read.
“Not all . . . have come,” Rumfuss complained.
“This is the appointed time and place,” Tellun stated. “All were invited. Mulop declined to attend in person. Kovo and Gerathon gave no reply.”
From the corner of her eye, Essix saw the kangaroo scamper away, taking advantage of the small mercy. Hopefully the animal would learn greater care from the experience.
“They’re busy taking over the world,” Briggan growled. “The battle is raging. Why are we here trading words while the fate of Erdas teeters?”
“The Great Beasts have never battled one another,” Arax said firmly. The massive curls of his horns shone brilliant in the sunlight. “Let humans settle their own disputes.”
Briggan began to pace. “Thanks to the Bile, this is not merely a human matter. The Conquerors have stolen animals from each of our spheres and brought them into bondage. Kovo and Gerathon openly aid the enemy in his bid for universal conquest. This war involves all life on Erdas.”
Essix felt sorry for the wolf. Nearly the size of Cabaro, and close to his equal in combat, Briggan was a fighter, not a talker. He wanted nothing more than to rejoin the fray with his wolf pack. The tension was evident in his voice, his movements, his posture.
“Have we anything new to discuss?” Halawir asked. The eagle spoke in clear tones that commanded respect. Only Tellun had a more regal aspect. “When we last met, the Devourer was marshaling his forces with the backing of Kovo and Gerathon. The Bile was spreading. As a group, we elected to wait and see if humanity could quell the threat.”
“Much has occurred since then,” Uraza said, her voice quiet but intense. She held very still, but it was the stillness of a bowstring about to be released, the stillness of a predator before the pounce. “Many of our talismans were stolen. The Evertree was damaged. The spiritual link between man and beast has been put at risk. New bonds are forming, but they are twisted and painful. Young humans and the animals they bond with are becoming sick and deranged. Sometimes they die outright.”
“You want to blame Kovo and Gerathon for damaging the Evertree?” Halawir asked. “Where is your proof? Such speculation is irresponsible. It sounds to me like the actions of conspiring men. How might men have gained access to your talismans? Perhaps because, against our counsel, the four of you have strayed too close to the humans.”
“Too much familiarity with humans can be perilous,” Suka warned. “We keep our distance for good reason.”
“We’re not the only ones who lost our talismans,” Briggan reminded the group. “Where is yours, Halawir?”
The eagle spread his colossal wings in anger, and it was as if the sun had been swallowed by a storm cloud. The council fell into shadow — and silence — until Halawir regained his composure, tucking his wings back into place. “As could be predicted,” the eagle replied, “once you awakened a desire for our talismans, the insatiable humans only craved more. Mine was stolen while I slept, taken from my very aerie. They are sly, these humans, that much is certain.”
“Let humans . . . fight humans,” Rumfuss said gruffly. The boar looked disgruntled. Essix had seldom seen him cheerful.
“This war involves more than humans fighting humans,” Jhi said in velvety tones. “Kovo and Gerathon openly back the Devourer.”
“The outcome will be determined today,” Briggan said. “If the Greencloaks fall, the Devourer will take over the world. It was already too late to test our full strength against theirs. We mustered our best troops and bypassed the majority of the Conqueror armies to bring the fight to their homeland. The gambit is all or nothing.”
“Why not wait to see if the assault works?” Dinesh asked.
“Because without our help, the Greencloaks will fall,” Briggan snarled. “And without their help, we can’t stop the Devourer.”
“Nonsense,” Arax protested. “If we decided to eliminate them, the thirteen of us could wipe out the ape, the serpent, and their human pet at our leisure.”
“You do not appreciate their numbers,” Jhi said calmly. “Their armies are fanatically devoted. Thanks to the Bile, every human soldier has a spirit animal bound to comply with any order. We are indeed powerful, but as a whole their might is greater. Envision a vast colony of ants bringing down an ox. This would be our fate.”
“If we act now, we can end this threat,” Essix said. “We’ll never have to test whether we can defeat the Devourer on our own.”
“And yet I remain unmoved,” Cabaro said flatly. “The same four who urged for war in the last meeting are repeating themselves. Your involvement in human affairs has led to a devastating battle that you will probably lose. Now you want us to rescue you. You wish for your folly to overrule our prudence.”
The council was quiet after this. Essix brought her sharp eyes to meet Cabaro’s own, and despite his callous words, the lion was the first to drop his gaze. Something else was at work behind his protest, though she couldn’t make out what.
“One Great Beast should not attack another,” Dinesh declared. “Such a fight is unthinkable. It has no precedent.”
Muscles bunching, tail swaying, Uraza responded in a poisonous tone. “You want to discuss breaking precedent? Great Beasts have never let humans decorate them with silks. Nor have they helped design shrines to themselves. Dinesh, I’m more interested in the opinions of Great Beasts who can find their own food.”
Rumfuss exploded into laughter.
Dinesh raised his trunk indignantly. “I did not traverse the Deep to listen to —”
“You were shipped and dragged here by humans like cargo,” Uraza spat. “You’d have handlers waving palm fronds at you right now if they weren’t forbidden from Grand Councils.”
Dinesh strained to his full height, long ivory tusks protruding like massive spears. The day dimmed. His voice was thunder. “Insolence! Defamation! Take that back this instant, or I, or I —”
“Will waddle out from under your canopy into the sunlight?” Uraza finished.
Tossing his huge head, Dinesh heaved his canopy to the ground. He trumpeted and the meadow quaked. Essix felt her feathers vibrating. “If you were worth the trouble, I’d trample you flat as a carpet.”
“Would that not be one Great Beast opposing another?” Uraza replied smugly.
Rumfuss laughed gustily. “Got . . . you there!” he exclaimed. Few things amused the boar as much as arguments.
Dinesh sulkily plopped down on the grass. “A disagreement is not a war. Our views may differ. At times we get irritated and make idle threats. But we have never let our arguments escalate to violence.”
Essix appreciated the point Uraza had made, but disagreed with the delivery. Dinesh was no closer to siding with them. If anything, the elephant was now further alienated. None of the Great Beasts lacked pride. Angering the others would not produce the desired result.
“The thought of Great Beasts fighting each other is abhorrent,” Essix said. “We may not always agree, but we have always shared a mutual respect.”
“Some more than others,” Dinesh scolded, his wounded eyes on Uraza.
“We attend Grand Councils out of that same respect,” Essix continued. “We cross great distances to confer together. But two of our number lacked the decency to attend today, though they were much closer to the meeting place than most of you.”
“I miss Kovo,” Suka said. “He told the best jokes.”
“Their absence is hardly reason for war,” Cabaro murmured.
“We established that this is the first time Great Beasts have opposed one another in battle,” Essix said. She looked slowly around the circle, meeting the gaze of each of
her fellows in turn. “But Great Beasts have also never caused such harm in the world. Our calling has ever been to protect and preserve Erdas, to seek balance, to limit tragedy — not to plunge the world into chaos. When have any of you stripped animals of their free will? When have you supported a tyrannical conqueror? Have you ever shamelessly ignored the warnings of Tellun and the other members of this council? Kovo and Gerathon have committed evils that are unthinkable to the rest of us. They remain unrepentant. Perhaps we must resort to unthinkable means to stop them.”
Her eyes fell last on Arax the Ram, who stamped his hoof. “All Great Beasts are free to act as we deem necessary,” he said ardently. “No one of us is the lone guardian of Erdas. Not even Tellun. We each share a portion of that responsibility, and we each have our own methods and priorities. We counsel one another when necessary, but we do not compel. Kovo and Gerathon have made no move against any of us.”
“Not directly,” Jhi said. “But they have created war in our domains. And they have used the Bile to force animals in our care into servitude.”
“We’ve all caused conflicts of one kind or another,” Suka said. “Let the humans fight it out. This war could be just what we need. There are too many humans. They multiply on every continent, in every climate. They’re drastically changing the balance. Their herds must be reduced. They take up too much space and consume too many resources. Humans are fast becoming the greatest plague Erdas has faced. Thanks to this war, humans are falling in greater numbers than we have ever seen. Perhaps we should celebrate.”
“Humans are not our enemies,” Tellun said, his voice effortlessly carrying more authority than any of the others could muster at their best. “They are fellow tenants of this world. Nature is full of hard realities. Predators and prey. Seasons of want and seasons of plenty. Humans have the right to survive and prosper as best they can. They have the same claim to Erdas as all creatures.”