Tales of the Great Beasts

by Brandon Mull

  “Humans claim . . . too much,” Rumfuss grumbled. “It will get worse.”

  “Our world is changing too quickly,” Suka said. “There are many parts of Erdas I no longer recognize — beloved wilds where bears once roamed that are no longer open to us. Humans are the agents behind it. Perhaps Kovo recognizes the need to curb them.”

  “Different species rise and fall,” Jhi said, her voice a soothing balm. Essix realized that if anyone could reach Suka through the walls of her quips and anxieties, it would be Jhi. The Great Panda was tranquility itself. “Some become dominant. Others go extinct. Humans could threaten the natural balance. They could also help preserve it. Although humans have great capacity for evil, of all species, they also possess the most potential for good. They are the most adept at putting the resources of Erdas to inventive use. Their ingenuity may cause problems, but it can also be a source of hope.”

  “Humankind will not overthrow the balance,” Briggan said stoutly. “Not while we stand watch.”

  “But must we fight their battles for them?” Cabaro asked. “I’m with Suka — the more dead humans the better.”

  “Humans aren’t all bad,” Dinesh protested.

  Suka chuckled. “Not when they worship you.”

  Dinesh bristled. “They don’t worship me.”

  Suka laughed harder. “What about the temples, and the rituals, and the feasts in your honor? Don’t worry, Dinesh. I love that you domesticate them!”

  “I have long sought ways to work with humans rather than against them,” Dinesh explained. “My methods have yielded some favorable results. Perhaps I have overplayed the role of enlightened mentor. I’ll consider scaling it back.”

  “Humans,” Rumfuss grunted. “Who can trust them?”

  “I’ve found certain humans to be wonderful,” Cabaro said slyly. “They’re an acquired taste.”

  “Enough!” Briggan barked, sending eavesdropping birds scattering from the trees. “Right now, as we joke and argue, humans are fighting alongside animals to decide the fate of Erdas. Can we move the discussion forward?”

  “A valid question has been raised,” Essix said after an uncomfortable moment of quiet. “Should we celebrate when humans fall? It depends on which humans get removed. Some love Erdas as much as we do. Others seem determined to turn it into a wasteland. We must support the humans who have virtue and vision. Men and women like the Greencloaks, who partner with animals rather than rule them, who cherish the wild places as much as their strongholds. The Devourer represents the worst humanity has to offer. If he establishes himself as ruler of the five continents, all will suffer. We are the Great Beasts. It is our duty to protect Erdas, not to control it. Kovo and Gerathon have gone astray.”

  “Is this your argument?” Arax challenged. “We should move against the ape and the serpent because you feel they have gone astray? Where does such a judgment lead us? Who will be the next beast to offend the all-knowing falcon? Me? Dinesh? Cabaro? Perhaps Rumfuss. None of us love the boar. If popularity were vital, he would have been ousted long ago.”

  “Nobody . . . likes me?” Rumfuss exclaimed in surprise.

  “You have few charms,” Cabaro said silkily.

  “Nonsense!” Rumfuss shouted. “I am . . . the best!”

  “Cabaro sees little charm in anyone,” Jhi said warmly. “Plenty of us like you just fine.”

  “Enlighten us,” Cabaro dared her. “What is it you enjoy about Rumfuss?”

  Jhi paused. Essix hoped she could find a compliment quickly. “Rumfuss is sturdy. He has little guile.”

  “The same could be said for a tree stump,” Cabaro replied.

  “Rumfuss is true to himself,” Jhi continued. “He knows mercy. Beneath his rough exterior beats a good heart.”

  “I can bash . . . stone walls,” Rumfuss grumbled. “I’ve . . . leveled forests. I eat . . . more than my weight. Spurn me. Be jealous. I care not. Envy . . . is the truest flattery.”

  “I’m with Arax,” Halawir said. “What right have we to condemn one another? The last time we met in a Grand Council, the majority decision was to let the humans deal with the Devourer. Afterward, Briggan, Essix, Jhi, and Uraza disregarded that verdict and got involved. Should they not be condemned as well?”

  “Go ahead and try,” Uraza growled eagerly.

  “You’re far too ready to fight, Leopard,” Dinesh admonished. “I grow weary of your warmongering.”

  “Do any of you believe that I love war?” Jhi asked.

  The question silenced the group. Essix approved of the tactic. There had been too much speaking and not enough listening.

  “I hate violence,” Jhi said gently. “Even as a last resort, I find it revolting. So what would move me to join a battle?”

  Nobody replied. Essix hoped Jhi had persuasive arguments ready.

  “I detest something more than violence,” Jhi continued. “Compulsion. Free will is our most fundamental right. Animals taken by the Bile lose their free will. They can’t defend themselves. I know of no more terrible injustice. I cannot allow such an imbalance to become universal. To do so would be to fail as a guardian of Erdas.”

  “None of us approve of the Bile,” Ninani said.

  All eyes went to the swan. She sat placidly upon the grass, as clean and pale as a lily. Essix had wondered when she might lend her voice to the proceedings. The falcon readjusted upon her perch, waiting for her to continue. Ninani seldom spoke. If Tellun inspired awe, Ninani evoked reverence. She was the kindest and gentlest of the Great Beasts, and by far the most graceful. Essix wished she would speak on their behalf, but the next few moments passed in silence. The swan said nothing more.

  “Kovo and Gerathon are behind the Bile.” Briggan finally spoke. “We asked them to dispose of it and they refused. Instead, they’re using the Devourer to spread it across Erdas. We either stop the Conquerors today, or we watch as Erdas reaps the consequences.”

  “The way you paint the situation makes the choice seem clear,” Cabaro said. “But how true are your colors? Don’t Kovo and Gerathon deserve a chance to share their side?”

  “This is their chance,” Essix said. “They knowingly forfeited their opportunity to explain themselves. Instead they want to have their way by force. They are no longer protectors of Erdas. They are attempting to conquer it. And that makes stopping them our responsibility. We must tarry no longer. Let us hurry to the battlefront before the opportunity is lost!”

  Tellun stirred, his antlers creaking like the bows of a great tree. The others waited for his pronouncement. “We have a grave decision before us,” the elk said. “Do we unite against two of our own and halt the designs they have set in motion? Or do we trust that they remain guardians of Erdas with purposes outside our understanding?”

  “I don’t think I could kill Kovo,” Suka said glumly. “I like him.”

  “You certainly could,” Uraza growled. “As could Cabaro. As could Briggan. As could I. You may find him an acquired taste.”

  Essix cringed. It was the wrong moment for antagonistic humor.

  Tellun snorted angrily. A charge filled the air, as if lightning might soon follow. “No matter our decision, I will not condone the slaying of a Great Beast. For one thing, it would be futile. While the Evertree stands, our destinies are tied to Erdas. If one form is lost, another will rise. If Kovo and Gerathon have betrayed their sacred duty, I would consider imprisonment, but not death.”

  “You four return to your battle if you wish,” Dinesh said. “I’ll not be joining you.”

  “Do you approve of the fight?” Briggan asked.

  “I’m disengaging,” the elephant said. “I will continue to protect my talisman. I will defend Erdas in my own way. The rest of you do as you will.”

  “How shocking,” Uraza mocked. “At least have your worshippers pray for us.”

  “Let the humans .
. . fight it out,” Rumfuss grumbled.

  “We mustn’t move against Kovo and Gerathon unless they move against us,” Arax said. “I felt that way before. I feel the same way now.”

  For a moment Essix had thought they might convince them. Even the most stubborn had wavered. Now she felt the opportunity slipping away, like a rabbit disappearing into its burrow. It was infuriating. The stakes were so high! The truth had been spoken plainly. They had made a strong case. But that did not compel the others to agree. “What about the innocent animals claimed by the Bile?” Essix asked.

  “Are you new here?” Cabaro replied glibly. “What about the innocent bunny claimed by the fox? What of the blameless gazelle slain by the leopard? So some animals get forced into spirit bonds. That carries certain benefits. They’re far from dead. We can’t even every contest. Sometimes an animal can’t fight back.”

  “I don’t want to fight Great Beasts,” Suka said. “Maybe if I was cornered. It just doesn’t seem right to me.”

  “We should wait,” Halawir said. “There is not enough evidence of wrongdoing from Kovo and Gerathon. It’s too soon to condemn two of our own.”

  “I agree,” Cabaro said. “I expect the four champions of humanity will fight on. But I shall not join them.”

  “That is six of the thirteen against,” Briggan said. “Not yet a majority.”

  “Eight of fifteen if you count Kovo and Gerathon,” Halawir said, his great yellow eye lingering on Cabaro a moment before moving to the wolf.

  “They spurned this council and lost their say,” Briggan insisted.

  “The same tiresome four have spoken for war,” Cabaro said. “Who else sides with the six?”

  “Mulop has heeded our words from afar,” Tellun announced. “He is content to let the four continue their campaign, and has no objection to the others abstaining.”

  “Seven of thirteen,” Cabaro said.

  “Tellun,” Briggan implored. “Surely you will aid us. Surely you see the need. I have glimpsed the outcome of this day in a vision. If only the four of us stand against the Devourer, I fear it will end in darkness.”

  Rumfuss laughed brashly. “All days . . . end in darkness.”

  “I side with the majority of the council,” Tellun said. “But I approve of you four continuing as you commenced. I know you sincerely mean to protect Erdas, just as I suspect Kovo and Gerathon do not. I will watch the battle closely. Should they cause you to fall, it will not be in vain.”

  “Will it take our deaths to convince you?” Uraza growled, rising lightly to her feet. Essix could feel her impatience finally coming untethered. The leopard had given up hope.

  “It would be a start,” Cabaro replied dryly. “My hunting grounds will nearly double.”

  Uraza surveyed Jhi, Essix, and Briggan, her violet eyes bright with anger. “We don’t have to do this. We should let these fools inherit the world they deserve.”

  “Almost tempting,” Briggan said.

  “We can only control ourselves,” Essix said. “We nudge others toward wisdom as best we can, but their decisions are theirs to make. It’s often disappointing to try to influence others.”

  “That’s the game Kovo and Gerathon are playing,” Jhi said. “Asserting control over others. Over everything, perhaps.”

  “Shall we disappoint them?” Essix asked.

  Briggan raised his head high. His deep blue eyes gazed at something that the rest of them couldn’t see. Essix remembered the wolf’s warning: This day would end in darkness. “I’ll go alone if I must. While I live, Erdas has a protector.”

  “Not alone,” Essix said, stretching her wings. “I won’t abandon the people trying to stand against this evil.”

  “Nor will I,” Jhi said. Her silver eyes were heavy for once, with some inner burden. “Though Suka might be of more use today.”

  “The four of us, then,” Uraza said. “We’ve lost enough time.”

  Uraza launched herself away from the group, her sleek body elongating with every bounding stride. Without a backward glance, Briggan followed close behind. Jhi trundled after them at less than half their speed.

  The wolf let out a resounding howl. Essix felt her heart fill with fire. The call echoed across Stetriol. Several of the Great Beasts hung their heads. It was hard to hear that battle cry without responding.

  “Different day, same conversation,” Cabaro remarked, stretching. He looked at Essix. “Not in a hurry?”

  “I’ll rejoin the fight well ahead of them,” Essix said coolly. “I’m disappointed in all of you. If we can’t unify against a threat this obvious, what purpose do we serve? Now that the matter is settled, let me share some final words. Mulop, you see more than you understand. Cabaro, you are a devastating waste of potential. I once mistook your pelt for golden, but it’s clearly yellow.”

  The lion snarled, but did not even rise from his reclined position.

  “Halawir,” Essix continued. “You have all the manners of royalty, and none of the substance. I thought you, of all of us, would see the cunning work of Kovo behind the theft of our talismans. Something unforgivable has happened to us, cloaked behind the humans.

  “Suka, hiding from tough choices is a choice; and, Rumfuss, never changing means never improving. Arax, how can you demand freedom for yourself but not for those in your care? Dinesh, don’t let your greatness be only a matter of size.

  “Tellun . . .” Essix paused, momentarily unsure how to proceed. The elk seemed unimpeachable. And yet . . . “I respect you, but I do not understand you. I fear you are too distant.”

  “And Ninani?” Cabaro asked expectantly.

  Essix gazed upon the swan. “I believe that Ninani does her best.”

  “Fight bravely,” Ninani said, her voice music for the soul. “If I had it in me, I would join you. For what it’s worth, I believe you. I will help as I can.”

  Bolstered by the soft-spoken encouragement and disgusted by the others, the falcon spread her wings and took flight. As she gained altitude, the last remnant of conversation she caught was Dinesh inquiring whether it was time to eat.

  Higher and higher she wheeled, seeking currents that would bear her more swiftly. The same sky that had hastened her journey to the meeting conspired to slow her return. At the limits of sight, the battle raged on, an ocean of carnage simplified by the distance.

  The Grand Council had been a waste of effort. Of course she, Briggan, Uraza, and Jhi were returning alone. When action was required, brave individuals were infinitely preferable to committees. Essix scolded herself for believing the others could be swayed. Wishful thinking had clouded her judgment. They had lost valuable time.

  Below her and somewhat ahead, Briggan and Uraza raced side by side. Jhi trailed behind, though closer than Essix had expected. The falcon grimly assessed the sky. Perhaps she had been overconfident thinking she would outpace the others back to the battle. Earlier in the day, the winds had seemed more neutral, with currents she could have used for her return trip. Now, high and low, far and wide, the air was against her.

  Could one of the Great Beasts have manipulated the atmosphere? Neither Kovo nor Gerathon had that power, but Arax had some influence over the winds, as did Halawir. Essix cursed herself. She should have withheld her criticisms.

  The winds were not enough to defeat her, but they were a nuisance. It made the return trip a grueling chore. If the unfavorable currents persisted, even Jhi might rejoin the battle ahead of her.

  As she muscled her way forward, Essix watched wolves mass around Briggan, howling with joy at the return of their Packleader. Curiously, a human Greencloak girl ran along with the wolves, wearing an expression of mad exhilaration. Her black mink spirit animal dashed excitedly beside her. Even from high above, Essix could sense Briggan’s resolve spreading through the pack. She had never felt such determination from the wolf. It almost made her feel sorry
for the Conquerors.

  The closer Essix came to the battleground, the clearer she saw how far the conflict had progressed. The Greencloaks’ forces had pressed forward in a valiant attempt to reach the Devourer. As a result, the enemy had given them ground, then closed in from the flanks, unleashing all of their reserves. Surrounded and losing momentum, the beleaguered Greencloaks were about to be annihilated.

  Then Briggan reached the field, slamming into the enemy like an avalanche, backed by a horde of wolves. Uraza came with him, ravaging Conquerors everywhere she ran. The enemy army buckled, some fleeing, some turning to face the new threat. It bought time for the main body of the Greencloaks, allowing some of them to push nearer to the Devourer.

  Corpses accumulated in drifts. Blood muddied the ground. Animals and humans clashed and fell.

  Sacrificing altitude to knife forward against the headwind, Essix approached the front of the battle where Gerathon, Kovo, and the Devourer awaited their foes. A hulking mound of muscle, the ape clutched a huge club and shouted a challenge at the onrushing Greencloaks. Sinuous and menacing, Gerathon coiled and reared up, flaring her broad hood. Clad in foreboding armor, the Devourer drew his sword, his enormous saltwater crocodile at his side.

  The Greencloak charge was losing momentum. The Devourer’s bodyguards held them, and then began driving them back.

  Far across the battlefield, Jhi raised up, paws swaying. The enemy defenders seemed to lose vigor. A bold cluster of Greencloaks surged forward, steel ringing against steel, claws raking, teeth biting.

  Club held high, Kovo stalked forward to deal with the oncoming Greencloaks. Thanks to his size, a few swipes of his weapon would end the attack. Briggan got there first, an unstoppable fury of fangs and claws. The ape staggered back. Briggan’s jaws found the arm with the club. The weapon fell and the ape cowered as Briggan stood over him, hackles raised, crimson teeth inches from his throat.

  The wolf did no more. His mandate from Tellun was to capture, not to kill, so he stood over the ape, paws on his chest, holding him in check.

  Then Essix saw him — a lean Niloan warrior, only lightly armored, but lithe and quick, nimbly dodging through the ferocious maze of combat. Carrying only a slender spear, the warrior refused to engage any combatant, deflecting blows and bodies with his weapon rather than attacking. Stepping lightly, moving surely, he weaved through the skirmish, a fragile twig somehow surviving a violent stretch of rapids. Essix recognized him as Tembo, the Niloan goat thief who had become the human leader of the Greencloaks. Her keen eyes could see that his vervet monkey spirit animal was resting as a tattoo upon his arm. So where had this uncanny agility come from?