“I didn’t know that,” said Shane. “Tell me about it.”
Long ago, when Erdas was young, the Great Beasts had not yet grown into their greatness. Uraza was little more than a kitten, and Cabaro had no mane. Yet they both had claws, and they bared them over Nilo.
Nilo, you see, was the most beautiful of all the lands, rich in game and lush in climate. Each of the cats wished to claim it as their own.
They bickered for many days, yowling and hissing and clawing at the ground, and the land around them suffered. For even in their youth, the cats were powerful, and wherever their mighty claws tore up the grass, nothing new would grow. Thus were the Niloan deserts formed.
Kovo saw this, and he was worried, for he also called Nilo his home. He knew he would not thrive in the desert, and so he sought a way to end their fighting.
First he went to Cabaro. He flattered the cat’s vanity. “You are stronger than Uraza,” Kovo cooed. “But true strength is in numbers. You must gather others of your kind, and work together to claim Nilo.”
Then Kovo went to Uraza. He appealed to the cat’s pride. “You are faster and more agile than Cabaro,” he said. “You will control Nilo if you remain a solitary hunter and strike from the trees.”
And then there was a time of peace. Cabaro and his lionesses stayed on the savannah, in plain sight, relying on their strength and on teamwork. But there were too many of them to move freely through the jungles. Uraza, by contrast, ruled the trees, relying on stealth and skill and staying well clear of the savannah.
Each had their own place, and so there was no longer any reason to fight over Nilo. Yet the cats came to realize that they had been tricked into their truce, and they did not take kindly to this. They chased Kovo up into the mountains, and finally caught him by his long and beautiful tail. Kovo escaped, but he lost the tail to the cats.
“That is what you get for sticking your tail into a cat’s business,” they said.
And from that day forth, Cabaro and Uraza lived in harmony. The leopard called the forests and jungles of Nilo her home, for she was a great climber, and the trees became her hunting ground. The lion ruled over the savannah, for his might was such that he feared no enemy, and he had no need for stealth or hiding.
Shane chuckled softly. “And to this day, I’d bet Kovo holds a grudge,” he added. He tried to imagine what the great gorilla would think of such a legend. He doubted he’d be flattered — but then, at least his cunning had been immortalized.
Within a minute, Achi’s breathing slowed, and Shane crept quietly back to a higher branch. He swapped out the talisman he wore, surveying their surroundings with Essix’s sight, but as the night grew darker the talisman grew less useful.
He tried Kovo’s again, spurred on by the legend he’d just heard. As he remembered, it sharpened his vision. But the effect was not at all like that of the Copper Falcon. Again his eyes were drawn to the stress points of the branches — the one he sat upon seemed to glow right at its base, where his weight caused it to strain against the tree. He looked down at Achi, and even in the dark he could see details of the boy: the delicate bones of his fingers, his eyes in their sockets, a cluster of nerves at the base of his skull.
Shane felt suddenly sick. He knew exactly what the talisman allowed him to see: weakness.
It was showing him how best to hurt Achi.
Shane removed the pendant. It was darker than the night itself. No moonlight caught its curved surface. He put it away, and opted for Briggan’s heightened hearing instead.
The jungle came alive at night, but if anything stalked them, he could not find any sign of it. They did get one visitor, however. Several hours into his vigil, Shane caught a musky scent and heard something small and agile moving in the branches of an adjacent tree. Eventually a monkey peered curiously at him through a curtain of leaves. Its face was black, and the fur of its body appeared almost green. It made a chittering sound, which Shane imagined was a greeting.
“Shh,” he hushed, then pointed to Achi. “He’s sleeping.”
The monkey cocked its head quizzically. Shane thought it would make a perfect spirit animal for Achi. He suddenly remembered the Bile in his pocket. He drew the vial and considered the amber liquid within.
This, he realized, could be perfect. Achi could have the spirit animal he wanted. Shane could win him over to the Conquerors’ cause, giving the boy a home and a purpose. He might hesitate at first — might resist accepting that the soldiers had done what had to be done in his village. But that was the beauty of the Bile, wasn’t it? No one could resist it in the end.
Not even stubborn, foolhardy Drina.
Shane frowned, a chill spreading up his back. Before he could reconsider, he quickly unstopped the vial and poured out its contents.
He was a king. A commander of armies. He didn’t need to bribe Achi, and he didn’t need to bully him either.
As if the boy knew Shane was weighing his fate, he began to toss and turn in his sleep. He cried out into the night, and swayed so much that Shane feared he might launch himself right out of the hammock.
Shane climbed back down to Achi and shook him gently on the shoulder.
“Achi,” he said. “It’s only a dream.”
Achi opened his eyes. They glistened with wetness.
“What is it?” Shane asked.
Achi shook his head. All his flintiness was gone. It had been gone since they’d set up camp.
“It has to do with the village, doesn’t it? The one nearby.”
Achi was silent a moment, then let out a shuddering sigh. “It’s not just Conquerors down there,” Achi said. “My dad’s with them.”
“They took him?” Shane asked. “Is he a prisoner? I can get him —”
“No,” Achi said. “He’s with them. He … he was the elder of our village, like you guessed. He was in charge. Everybody did whatever he said. Everybody trusted him.
“When the Conquerors came, my dad went out to meet them. I snuck out and followed him and listened. They wanted him to turn over our Greencloak. The one who provides Nectar at our ceremonies, they said. But we didn’t have a Greencloak in our village. There was a woman who brought the Nectar once a year, but we never saw her at other times.”
Achi took a deep breath. “They didn’t believe him. They thought he was protecting someone. They got violent. And then he … he told them he was sorry. That he had lied, and that there was a Greencloak in our village. He offered to lead them right to her.”
Shane felt a sourness in the pit of his stomach.
“He brought them to the village and walked them right up to Miss Callie’s hut. She was no Greencloak. She wasn’t even Marked. But the Conquerors pulled her from her home. Everyone got upset. They came out to help her. They threw rocks and shouted. But the Conquerors …” His voice broke. “The Conquerors had armor and real weapons. In the end, they got what they wanted. And my dad went right along with them.”
Shane was struck dumb by the senseless horror of Achi’s story. Before he could think of a single thing to say, the boy burst into tears. Sobs racked his small body, swaying the hammock from side to side.
With some effort, Shane crawled in alongside him. He held Achi until his tears ran dry, murmuring that it was okay, that everything would work out, and wondering whether this was his biggest lie yet.
Shane dreamed of a jackal.
It sat upon an iron throne.
In its jaws was a bloody golden crown, forged in the shape of a snake devouring its own tail.
Shane awoke with surprise at the first hint of dawn. He was wedged into the hammock. Achi was crouched on a branch above him.
“I fell asleep,” Shane said groggily.
Achi shrugged. “I kept watch.” There was no sign of sorrow on the boy’s face, as if he’d left his worries in the dark.
Shane slid to the ground and stretched while Achi gathered the hammock. He still wore Uraza’s talisman. Shane could have believed it gave the boy claws — he clun
g to the side of the tree so effortlessly.
Achi leaped to the ground from a height that Shane wouldn’t have dared. He landed on his feet, of course.
“Ready to go?” he asked, so much enthusiasm in his voice that it broke Shane’s heart a little.
“Listen, Achi …”
“I gathered some grubs while you slept. For breakfast!” Achi held out a closed fist, and Shane had no desire to see what it contained.
“I’m going to the village, Achi,” he said soberly. “And I think you should come with me.”
Achi’s smile snapped closed like a bear trap.
“I know you’re angry with your father,” Shane said. “And you have every right to be. What he did was wrong. But listen …” He squatted down and put a hand on Achi’s shoulder. “It’s like the story you told me about Kovo. Remember? Kovo lied, but he did it for a good reason. He got the cats to stop fighting. He saved the day!”
Achi gave him a withering look. “Kovo was not the hero of that story.”
“Wasn’t he?” Shane said. “Achi, the thing you have to understand is this: Sometimes good people do bad things. It doesn’t mean they’re bad people.”
“That’s exactly what it means!” Achi hollered.
“You need to forgive your father,” Shane said forcefully. “He was doing what he thought was right for the village and for —”
Achi shoved Shane, hard, and he skidded into the dirt.
Shane could hardly believe it had happened. He was torn between shock, hurt, and anger — and then he saw the shaft of an arrow sticking out from a tree.
Right where his head had been.
“Shane, run!” Achi shouted.
They dashed into the trees, and Shane struggled to swap talismans while keeping his head down. He didn’t need Briggan’s hearing to catch the dramatic crashing behind him as something large and fast moved toward them through the brush.
He needed the lion.
Shane skidded to a stop, twirled on his heel, and roared.
The sound was so great it was a physical force, pushing at the trees like a hurricane so that they bent low to the ground. One of them snapped in half, its thick trunk reduced to splinters. Despite the countless leaves and twigs that flew into the air, blocking Shane’s vision, he easily saw the huge cat that had been charging them. It hurtled backward in the gale, sliding through the mud. Even as it tumbled away, the fierceness in its eyes and the savage points of its teeth gave Shane chills.
He turned to find Achi had stopped to look at him. “What was —?”
“Run!” Shane said.
He didn’t mean to.
He just didn’t think.
But his shouted warning came out as another great wave of crushing force.
Achi flew.
All that mattered now was speed.
When Shane retrieved the talisman from Achi’s unconscious body, the boy’s head lolled back and his arms hung limply. He’d flown high, come down hard, and was now out cold, his shallow breathing the only evidence that he was still alive.
Shane took the boy in his arms, donned the Amber Leopard, and ran. He fought the urge to look behind him, to see if the black cat had recovered and resumed its pursuit.
He felt a calmness overtake him. To be running through the jungle suddenly felt like the most natural thing in the world. He no longer had to even think about where he was placing his feet, or which way to turn to avoid the low branches and hanging curtains of vines. He was a wild thing, running free. He was Uraza, and he was home.
But he was not alone.
Just ahead, a solitary figure stepped out from between the trees. Her cloak was green, but so dark as to appear almost black. Its hood obscured her face. She had an arrow nocked in her bow, and she was aiming it right at him.
“Devourer,” she said. “We meet at last.”
Shane skidded to a stop.
“I’ll bet you thought you’d escaped for good,” the woman said. “Once from Greenhaven and then from the ship that pursued you. I’ll admit, it was an interesting chase. But I saw you fall from the eagle.”
“This boy needs a healer,” Shane said sternly.
“That boy is a shield to you.” She pulled her bowstring taut. “Put him down. Die with some dignity.”
Shane ground his teeth. “I get it. You don’t like me much. But I’m telling you, if this boy doesn’t get to a healer right now, what happens is on your head.”
The woman took a step forward, and Shane saw her face beneath the hood. Her tan skin and accent marked her as a native of southern Zhong. For all the malice in her voice, her features were expressionless, her eyes flat. She had flecks of gray in her black hair and a tattoo on her arm, a white tiger, but it was faded away almost to nothing.
“You use the talismans well,” she said.
“Thanks,” Shane said. “I’d curtsy, but my hands are full.”
“The lion’s roar. The leopard’s grace,” she continued. “Tell me, if you’re so concerned for the child’s life, why not call on the panda?”
Shane cursed himself. It hadn’t even occurred to him. Not that it would have been a very strategic choice with a man-eating cat bearing down on him.
“You care only for yourself.” The woman seethed, her stony exterior flaring hot now. “My name is Lishay. I lost my brother to your pet monsters. I lost my spirit animal. And I lost the man I — a good man. Tarik.”
“I haven’t killed anyone,” Shane growled.
“So talented a liar,” Lishay said. “You can even lie to yourself.”
“I’m not —”
“You may not have held the greatsword that struck Tarik down. Nor the knife that took my kin. But make no mistake — you are responsible for their deaths and more. Your crocodile killed the greatest general in Zhong. You unleashed this madness upon Erdas.”
“I’ve lost people too!” Shane shouted, spittle flying from his mouth. “You think you’re special? I’m doing this because you’re the monsters. Greencloaks! You left Stetriol to rot!” Shane spit into the dirt. “So high and mighty. Not against sending an assassin after me, though, are they?”
“Put the boy down,” she said. “Last chance.” And Shane caught her glimpsing over his shoulder.
“Grahv!” he called, and he rolled to the side just as the great black cat lunged from behind him. It was a tiger, he saw now, its stripes almost lost entirely against its dark fur.
The crocodile appeared in a flash and met the tiger mid-lunge, allowing Shane to bring his attention back to Lishay just as she let the arrow fly. With Uraza’s speed, he was able to dodge it, but only barely. He needed to end this fight quickly.
He dropped Achi to the ground, pivoted, and pulled his saber as he closed the distance.
She met him with a parry, catching his sword on her bow and pushing it aside even as she drew a curved blade with her free hand.
Shane leaped back, dodging the slash she aimed at his belly. He brought his sword around for a slash of his own, and metal met metal.
For the moment, it was a stalemate. Their eyes met, and if a look of hate were a physical thing, Shane would have been knocked off his feet.
They were too evenly matched. Shane needed an advantage.
He withdrew, walking backward but keeping his sword before him. Then he leaped into a tree, out of Lishay’s reach.
She sheathed her sword, and Shane knew he had mere moments before she let an arrow fly. He acted quickly, and replaced the Amber Leopard with Kovo’s Obsidian Ape.
Shane could see an old injury in the woman’s wrist, a fresh scrape on her cheek, and little else he could exploit while her guard was up.
But the black tiger lit up like a beacon. Shane knew she must love the animal fiercely — Kovo’s pendant had flagged it as her weakness. Could he help Grahv get the upper hand? He turned to look at the tiger, and that’s when he noticed something that nearly stunned him right out of the tree: Achi was lit up as well.
Despite her earlier b
luster, the woman didn’t want harm to come to the child.
And that was something Shane could use.
Shane ducked and weaved through the branches, hoping she didn’t have a bead on him yet, but unable to take his eyes away from his hands and feet for fear of falling. “Grahv!” he shouted. “The boy!”
Their mental link sparked, and Shane could feel it as the crocodile rallied, knocking the tiger aside with his massive tail and turning on Achi. In a burst of speed, the crocodile had Achi in his open mouth.
“I’m coming down!” Shane said. “Lower your bow if you value the boy’s life.”
Shane clambered down the tree to find Lishay standing stock-still. The only weapon she had now was hatred, which she radiated at him.
“Call off the tiger,” Shane said, drawing his sword.
She hesitated, but held out her arm. In a flash of light, the black tiger appeared as a tattoo alongside its white cousin.
Black and white. Precisely how the Greencloaks saw the world.
“You’re a monster,” she spat. “And you’ll pay. If not at my hands, then at another’s.”
“I’ve paid in advance,” Shane said. “Now it’s time I collect my due.”
With Kovo’s sight to guide him, he smashed the pommel of his sword into the base of her skull. She dropped to the ground, instantly unconscious.
But the jungle wasn’t quiet. Shane heard the sound of crying, and turned to see that Achi was awake. Awake, and terrified.
“Achi, it’s okay,” Shane said quickly. “Grahv won’t hurt you.”
In a flash, the crocodile disappeared.
But the fear in Achi’s eyes remained.
Shane staggered into the village as the dawn sky flared amber and violet, as if Uraza’s colors still flew over Nilo.
But Nilo had fallen to the Conquerors, and in this village, Uraza’s flags had been replaced.
A dozen Conquerors leveled their weapons at him as he stepped forward. A dozen spirit animals bared their teeth. Shane wondered if they’d really attack him while he held an injured boy in his arms, then decided he’d rather not know the answer.
The Book of Shane Page 7