Stop it, Meilin. Terror is your enemy.
She continued forward, using the little free space under her hands to brush the tunnel clear as she wriggled, to gain her even the tiny space that the rock dust took up. Her shoulders wedged tight once, and then she managed to free them, her collarbone wrenching painfully before she could continue forward, now with arms down by her sides.
Relief. A cool, sulfurous breeze hit her face. She’d never been so grateful for something so stinky. As Meilin moved forward, her head and shoulders came free into an open space.
Her first impulse was to hurl forward into freedom, but she stopped herself.
She desperately wished she had space to relight the torch. As she eased forward, the top half of her body was hanging in the sulfurous open air, but her hands were still pressed into her sides. She flailed around, hoping to contact a nearby ledge or bit of ground. But it was all open. What would she do now? She might be a couple of feet above the ground, or the bottom could be hundreds of feet away.
Meilin figured it was best to lean down as far as she could manage and use her fingertips to test whether there was any ground beneath. Leaving the torch pinned against her waist, she wrenched her hands free and felt down and all around. There was nothing below. She’d have to use her feet instead, which would reach farther.
Once enough of her was free, she reversed her grip and eased her legs out. Now her feet dangled low, while only the strength of her fingertips prevented her from falling. She felt a sudden need to summon Jhi, to have the comfort of her companion. But Jhi couldn’t fit into the tunnel, and the idea of summoning the panda into open air and watching her plummet was too horrifying to consider.
“Conor?” Meilin called.
She heard his faint reply from the far end of the tunnel. “Yes?”
She realized there was nothing she could ask him for. What would happen next was all up to fate. “Wish me luck!” she called.
“What’s happening?” came his distant voice.
“Just wish me luck!”
Meilin stretched her toes, hoping to contact ground. No success. Her fingers began to strain. Then, unexpectedly, a rock came free under one hand and slipped away.
She free-fell for a long second, then struck something soft. Meilin heard a ghastly cry from beneath her and rolled off whatever living thing she’d hit. Something was panting near her.
Then she felt a hand on her chin.
Shouting in panic, Meilin reeled backward, flailing in the darkness. She fell from whatever perch she’d been on. She dropped for another horrible moment, then struck pebbly ground and something wet.
Meilin staggered desperately through the darkness, hands outstretched. She contacted another warm body, smooth and hairless and strangely oily, and kicked out. The creature, whatever it was, gasped and fell back. Meilin turned in a slow circle, looking all around her but finding only blackness, fists out and ready to strike. “Hello?” she said.
“What do you see?” Conor called.
The torch! Of course—there was a second torch at her waist! Cursing herself, she patted her waist until she found the handle, then struggled to free it.
Before she could light it, though, more hands were on her. They clutched and pulled, tearing her skin. Then sharp fingernails were on her face, yanking at her ears, scraping her cheeks.
Meilin screamed.
CONOR PACED HELPLESSLY, THEN HELD STILL WHEN HE heard Meilin screaming from the far side of the tunnel. When he called out for her and she didn’t respond, he prepared to leap into the shaft. “Takoda!” he cried. “Follow me!”
“If Meilin is in trouble,” Takoda said behind him, “whatever happened to her will happen to you, too. Think, Conor!”
“I don’t care about being reasonable! She needs us!” Conor yelled, whirling with his second torch.
The ruddy light illuminated Takoda’s face dramatically, casting shadows down the gorilla tattoo stretching along his neck. “If she’s been attacked, you’ll head into it face-first, with no way to defend yourself,” Takoda said.
“You have more in common with Kovo than you think,” Conor snapped. “We’re going now!”
Takoda nodded wearily. “I was afraid you wouldn’t budge. Okay, let’s head in.”
Conor handed the torch to Takoda and had begun to wriggle through the tunnel again when Takoda grabbed his ankle.
“Hold on,” Takoda said. “Do you hear something?”
Conor realized he could hear scuffling sounds farther along in the tunnel. “Meilin?” he called out. “Is that you?”
The scuffling got nearer.
“Meilin?” Conor called again.
Still no answer. “Back up, back up!” Conor screamed at Takoda.
As Takoda scrambled out of the tunnel behind him, Conor did his best to wriggle in reverse, hustling as fast as he could.
They came free into the chamber, where Takoda pulled in front of Conor and brandished the torch.
A figure, just Meilin’s height and weight, raced toward them. “Oh, thank Tellun, Meilin, you’re—”
But it wasn’t Meilin.
Conor and Takoda fell backward in terror as a scrawny human figure scrabbled out of the tunnel on all fours, its twisted yellow fingernails clicking against the stone ground. It was a ghastly gray-white, with barely a hair on its head. Its eyes were wide and pink, and before Conor’s eyes the giant black pupils contracted to pinpoints—the torchlight seemed to have the monster dazzled. It froze, its long, skinny arms dragging on the ground.
“What is that?” Conor whispered, reeling backward.
“I don’t know,” Takoda whispered back, fear tightening his voice. “But look at its forehead.”
Conor had assumed it was dirt, but could see clearly now that the creature had a symbol on its forehead—a spiral, just like the one on Zerif’s forehead, and on his own arm. He had no time to reflect on it, though, as at that moment another of the strange creatures emerged from the tunnel—then a third, and a fourth.
“We have to get out of here!” Takoda yelled.
“What about Meilin?” Conor said.
This time, the creatures heard them. They pressed their milky eyelids shut and lunged at the boys blindly, clawlike fingernails outstretched, clashing whenever they struck the chamber’s stone walls. Conor and Takoda instinctively fell back, tumbling to the ground and scuttling backward on all fours.
Whether summoned by Takoda or appearing from his own will, Kovo was suddenly back among them. With a pop, the gorilla appeared in the round chamber, seizing the torch where Takoda had dropped it in one clean motion. He stood over the kids protectively, the flaming light tight in his strong black hand. Now that their eyes were closed, however, the creatures were no longer scared of the light. They lurched toward them, slowly circling the round cavern, easing closer and closer. Mightily as Kovo swung the torch, it did nothing to keep them at bay.
All the while, more and more monsters emerged from the tunnel.
One of them contacted Conor, wrapping a clammy and surprisingly strong hand around his wrist. Conor cried out and whirled in an attempt to break free. The creature gnashed its sharp teeth in the air, trying to get them around his forearm.
Takoda had a slender knife out—his only weapon—and stepped toward the monsters, slashing wildly. Kovo roared and motioned for them to return to his side. Though in any other situation he’d have been reluctant to take orders from his former enemy, Conor willingly pressed his back tight against Kovo’s, while Takoda did the same.
Kovo wrapped one strong hand around the leg of the nearest ghoulish creature and, with a grunt, whipped it into the air, flailing the limp form into the surrounding monsters. Then Kovo threw the lifeless body to one side, roaring and beating on his chest.
The torch tumbled away in the process, and Conor scrambled to pick it up. As he did, one of the monsters leaped onto his back. Conor staggered about, backing into walls, desperately trying to free himself. But more creatures continued to pour out of the t
unnel. Another latched on to Conor’s back while he was still fighting off the first.
With a furious roar, Kovo set himself on the creatures thronging them, one powerful arm plucking monsters from Conor and the other from Takoda. As Kovo bent over in his task, three of the ghouls leaped onto the gorilla’s back, with more behind them clamoring to get on. Even mighty Kovo staggered under their combined weight, bleeding from multiple bites.
Conor summoned Briggan. The wolf appeared in midair and leaped to the attack, whirling and lunging as best he could in the close quarters of the dark cave, dancing in and out of the torchlight as he pounced and wheeled, pale ghastly creatures falling under his jaws time and again.
Kovo used the surprise of Briggan’s appearance to press the offensive, reaching to the ground and heaving up whatever debris his hands found on the cave floor. Heaps of rock flew into the air, strafing their attackers. But more and more creatures continued to pour through the tunnel.
“Meilin!” Conor yelled. She’d been right where these monsters emerged from, and the thought of it filled his heart with icy dread. Conor couldn’t stand to imagine what the ghouls had already done to her. “Too many to fight!” he gasped. “We need to retreat before they block the tunnel to the surface.”
“They’ll easily chase us down!” said Takoda.
One of the creatures got its jaw around Kovo’s ankle. The gorilla roared in pain, nearly losing his footing before Briggan managed to hurl it away. But Briggan was having trouble of his own: A creature ripped its sharp yellow fingernails into his ear. The wolf’s blood gleamed in the torchlight.
Conor felt his own flesh tear as one of the beasts clawed at his throat. It was all he could do to jam its forehead away with the heel of a hand, but as he did his fingers slid into the creature’s open mouth. If it clamped its sharp teeth down, Conor might lose them all in one bite.
The creature began to bite down.
But then the world filled with light.
Dazzled, Conor looked up into the blinding white flash, blinking as he whisked his hand free. Tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t see anything beyond the afterglow that had burned purple into his vision. He heard Briggan whining in pain nearby and staggered toward the sound, finally making contact with his spirit animal’s coarse fur. Kovo panted nearby, and Conor could hear Takoda groaning not far away.
Conor’s eyes gradually adjusted enough that the cave resolved into view. Lavender light seeped from a stone lying in the middle of a puddle on the cavern’s floor. Conor realized it was some strange kind of flare, giving off ever-weakening light.
The light bomb seemed to affect the ghoulish creatures much more strongly. They were laid out flat on the floor, whimpering and quivering, fingers clamped over their eyes. Already the first was struggling to regain its feet in the dwindling light.
“Up here!” came a female voice high above them, on the far side of the cavern.
Conor looked up, shielding his eyes as best he could from the painful lavender glow. A slender figure stood at the edge of a hole high up in the cavern’s ceiling. “Meilin? Is that you?” Conor asked, confused.
“No,” the girl said. “No time to explain—these monsters won’t be stunned for much longer. Hurry up!”
Still dazed, Conor watched the girl lower a rope down the twenty feet or so from the entrance. With a familiar pop, Briggan disappeared into his tattoo. “Takoda!” Conor said. “Get Kovo into his passive state! Hurry!”
Takoda bit his lip. “I’m trying!”
Kovo took it into his hands—literally. He placed his large, hairy fists on top of Takoda’s shoulders and stared deeply into the boy’s eyes. Then Takoda gasped, like he’d been punched, and in a flash Kovo became a tattoo on the boy’s neck. Conor shook his head. Of course it would be Kovo who got to decide precisely where to become a tattoo—and then place himself in such a prominent position.
The two boys stepped over the moaning and shifting bodies, stealing toward the rope. Conor gave it one tug to test it, and then held it out to Takoda. The slender boy easily clambered up. Conor followed, working his way up the slick length of braided fiber, all the way to the top. He hurled himself over the edge and sprawled out flat, gasping for breath.
“No rest yet,” the mysterious girl said, still only a silhouette before Conor’s seared retinas. “Help me pull this up, quick!”
Conor couldn’t find the strength to stand but he rolled onto his belly and, together with Takoda and the girl, heaved on the rope. A creature had just reached it as they whisked it up. The ghastly beast beat its fists against the cavern wall in frustration.
Conor lay on his back, gasping. He couldn’t muster the strength to resist when the girl removed one of the torches from his belt and lit it.
“What a marvelous thing, these lights,” she said. Clearly the illumination was painful for her. Although she closed her eyes to slits, they streamed tears, even in the dim light.
When Conor propped himself up, he saw a girl about his own age and pale as ether, with short white hair and eyes that were a soft pink. She was like a beautiful, delicate version of the creatures below. Even so, Conor found himself staggering back against the tunnel wall in fear, preparing to summon Briggan.
“It’s okay,” came a voice Conor knew as well as his own. “She’s a friend.”
Conor gave a sob of relief.
Meilin crept into the torchlight, a smile on her face. “I fell right into the nest of those things. Xanthe swept down from above and helped me out on one of her rope ladders. These caverns are honeycombed with passages above. She knows all of them. We had to go the long way around, and raced through the tunnels to the top of the cavern as soon as we could.”
“You were attacked by the beings my people call the Many,” the girl said in a delicate and unfamiliar accent. “The only defenses we have against them are our tunnels. There’s a whole system of ladders and traps. You wouldn’t have stood a chance, two boys against all of them.”
She doesn’t know we have spirit animals, Conor realized. On instinct, he decided to keep Briggan and Kovo a secret until he knew more about this mysterious girl. Takoda clearly had the same thought: He slyly buttoned his borrowed green cloak tight, so that its cowl hid his neck up to the chin.
“What are those things?” Conor asked.
“You saw the symbol on their foreheads? They used to be like my people, but they … changed. There will be time later to explain, but it’s not safe to linger in the territory of the Many. Please, come with me.”
Conor’s stomach dropped, though he tried to hide it. Seeing those monsters might have been seeing his own future. Trying to keep his terror out of his face, he shot a look at Meilin and Takoda. Not any other option but going along with her, is there? They shot him similar glances back.
Before they headed up the tunnel, Meilin clasped Conor close to her. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she said loudly. Then she whispered: “Keep the spirit animals a secret.”
She’d had the same instinct as he and Takoda.
They passed down the tunnel, Xanthe taking the lead, crouching and moving ably forward on all fours. She wore a simple charcoal-colored shift, woven from some shimmering material that Conor had never seen before. She carried no weapons that he could see.
He took in her white-pale skin. Even though this stranger had saved their lives, Conor found it hard to blot the monsters Xanthe had called the Many from his mind.
As they crept down the tunnels, Xanthe looked back admiringly at the torch in Conor’s hand, though it still made her eyes stream tears. “Such a marvelous thing. All the lights we have down here are so temporary in comparison.”
Conor smiled and shook his head. “I never thought a torch was that special. We have so many of them where we’re from.”
“Where is that?” Xanthe asked, her tone studied and neutral.
“Aboveground,” Meilin said.
Xanthe stopped, hands clasped in front of her mouth. Her eyes shone with awe.
“That’s what I’d hoped. But I hadn’t dared assume it.”
“Why is being from above so special?” Conor asked.
“Because it’s been a thousand years since anyone traveled here from the surface,” Xanthe said. “You’ve come to stop the Wyrm, as my people have long hoped. We’ve been waiting centuries for you to save us. Welcome to the land of Sadre.”
TRY AS SHE MIGHT, ABEKE COULDN’T MAKE THE WORDS she was hearing come together into anything that had meaning. In front of her wavering vision, so close to her nose that it appeared double, a spear tip trembled in the air. Abeke held perfectly still—partly to keep the armed tribespeople calm, and partly because of the puncture wound on her neck. Uraza was hunched protectively over her torso, making low warning growls and batting away any spear tips that came too near.
Keeping her hands open along the ground to prove she wasn’t reaching for a weapon, Abeke lowered her head and placed her hopes in Rollan.
Essix wheeled above, giving an occasional falcon cry, so Abeke knew that Rollan must be near. He was probably hiding at the forest line, waiting to see if it was safe before he came forward.
“Hello, there!” she heard Rollan call.
Or not.
Instantly, half the spear tips disappeared from Abeke’s vision, warriors grunting as they prepared to hurl their weapons.
If this standoff came to battle, Abeke needed to be ready. Gritting her teeth, hoping she wouldn’t pass out, Abeke grabbed the nearest spear shaft and yanked. The weapon didn’t come free, but she was able to pull herself up it so she was on her feet. Instantly, though, the world buckled under her, and she was back down on her knees. Uraza stood over her, growling to warn off any attackers.
“Hold!” Rollan called. “We mean you no trouble!”
The tribespeople conferred with one another in their own language, then one of them spoke in Common. “Drop your weapon, stranger.”
“I’ll drop mine if you drop yours,” Rollan called.
“Do as they say, Rollan,” Abeke managed to croak. “I’m in no condition to fight, and we need their help.”
Spirit Animals: Fall of the Beasts #1: Immortal Guardians Page 7