The Evertree, Page 3

The teeth and scaly skin belonged unmistakably to a crocodile. But a crocodile was the Devourer’s spirit animal….

  Behind Shane, two Conquerors emerged in full armor. They saluted him as soon as they arrived. Meilin glanced back to him at the same time that he narrowed his eyes. “I came back to make sure you are still in your cell, and that you are well.”

  A million thoughts rushed through her mind. “Shane … ?” she managed to say. Impossible. It couldn’t be…. A glint of metal from Shane’s light blond hair caught Meilin’s attention. She recognized the circlet she’d seen Gar wearing – a snake devouring its own tail.

  “Yes. I’m the Reptile King.” He lifted an eyebrow at her. “Are you really so surprised?”

  Shane. The thought sank into her mind. Shane was the Devourer?

  “Your wolverine …” Meilin gasped out, trying to make sense of it all. She glanced again at the tip of his tattoo, hoping that the second time around, she might see something different.

  But the teeth and scales were still there. Like they’d been there forever.

  “You …” Meilin said. “In Zhong, when –” She choked on her words, and it took her a second try to get them out. “It was you all along. You killed my father!”

  Shane just shook his head. “Save your indignation,” he replied, leaning against the wall. “It wasn’t me in that armor at Dinesh’s temple, it was my uncle. And Gar is dead. The Greencloaks killed him in Nilo, shortly after you saw him. Your revenge is complete. I’ve merely come to inform you that we’ll set out soon, and you’re invited to join us. I’m sure you’ll want to come along.”

  Meilin’s emotions warred against each other until she could hardly breathe. Gar was dead, but Shane – the true Devourer – had betrayed them. Somehow, that felt even worse. He had never wanted to help them.

  What about Abeke?

  She didn’t make it back to Greenhaven, Meilin thought in horror. She might even be dead. The possibility that Shane had hurt her friend, the thought that Abeke … Blood rushed to her head, making her sway. The room spun for a moment. With the fear came a flood of rage. Meilin trembled from head to toe. With a furious cry, she hurled herself at him. She could feel the world around her slowing down as Jhi’s abilities came rushing to the forefront – she saw Shane throw his arms up in defense, but the movement looked long and labored. Meilin balled up her fist. She managed to dodge past his arms and strike him square in the jaw. Shane staggered backward in slow motion.

  “Jhi!” Meilin called out.

  Jhi braced herself, then lunged for the boy too.

  Then, abruptly, the coiled monster in the shadows of her mind reared its ugly head. Numbness froze all of Meilin’s limbs. She gasped. The world, so slow a moment ago, suddenly sped up, rushing around her in a streaked blur. Meilin blinked, trying to keep up.

  Shane darted backward – a thunderous roar echoed in the cell. Something green and brown and scaly flashed before Meilin’s eyes. An instant later, she felt a tremor go through the floor and fell to her knees. Jhi halted in her attack. Meilin managed only to hold a hand up to her face and stumble backward. Her limbs felt detached and weak.

  An enormous saltwater crocodile appeared between them and Shane, its legs as thick as tree trunks. Meilin gasped. The beast opened its jaws at Jhi, then slammed its tail down on the floor. Its eyes were slitted and shiny. They glinted with something savage, completely different from the warmth in Jhi’s eyes.

  Jhi nudged Meilin back, putting herself protectively between Meilin and the crocodile.

  Shane brushed hair out of his eyes and sighed. “Call your panda into its dormant state,” he said. “Now.”

  More fog seeped into Meilin’s mind. She staggered, clutching at her head and trying in vain to fight off Gerathon’s presence. The compulsion was as strong as ever. She felt herself putting out her arm, as if she were a Zhongese puppet toy, opening her mouth to call Jhi back. Jhi cowered, lowering her head.

  A memory came to Meilin of Abeke. Abeke, who could be in serious trouble right now.

  No. Fight it.

  With a mighty effort, Meilin gritted her teeth and tried to push back. Lights burst in her vision. Shane smiled at her as she struggled. One of his hands ran along the scales of his crocodile. “Abeke was right,” he said. “You are stubborn.”

  The mention of Abeke gave Meilin more fuel. She clenched her jaw, bracing herself against the fog that threatened to take over. Her hand was still outstretched in Jhi’s direction, but the commands halted on her tongue, clamoring for release.

  No.

  The lights across her vision grew, blinding her. She squinted as they erased her surroundings for a moment.

  Was Jhi causing this? It all felt similar to the glowing orbs Meilin would sometimes see when Jhi helped her to make decisions calmly, but somehow … it was different too. This time, the light narrowed into a line across her vision, then centered as if she were staring down a dark tunnel toward something impossibly bright and warm. The golden path cut through the blue-gray haze of fog, of the Bile’s whisper and poison. Meilin reached for the light.

  The light pushed the fog back. Only for an instant.

  Meilin withdrew her hand, refusing to call Jhi into her dormant state. Then she lunged at Shane once more.

  Shane’s eyes popped open in surprise. Meilin managed to strike a glancing blow against his cheek before his crocodile’s tail caught her legs and sent her crashing to the ground. Shane drew his saber and pointed it at her throat. All hints of amusement were gone from his face.

  “Chain both of them to the wall,” he commanded. The two Conquerors waiting behind him moved immediately.

  Meilin shook her head as she felt the soldiers pinning her hands against the cold stone of the wall, then clapping chains around her wrists. Her rebellion had already ended. Gerathon’s coils slithered across her thoughts – in her mind, Meilin heard the Great Serpent chuckling. Beside her, the panda stared cautiously at the crocodile while a Conqueror secured her paws with manacles.

  Poor little girl, Gerathon hissed inside Meilin’s mind. I’ll have to be careful with you.

  Gerathon chuckled again, but somehow, Meilin thought she could detect a hint of wariness from the serpent. Somehow, in some way, Meilin had managed to push back against the Bile. It hadn’t lasted long. But it had lasted.

  Shane cast her one last look before calling his crocodile back. It vanished in a flash of light to reappear on his chest. He scowled. Meilin knew he would never admit it, but she could see that her moment of defiance had shaken him. As Gerathon lost interest in controlling her, she felt the fog dissipate from her mind and bring the prison cell back into sharp focus. Her anger returned with it.

  Shane had been the Devourer all along. He fooled us.

  “See to it that her door stays locked,” Shane snapped at the Conquerors. Then he motioned for them to file out.

  Meilin found her voice right as Shane was about to leave. “I don’t know what you did to Abeke,” she spit out, “but you don’t deserve her. And if you hurt her, I’ll make sure you pay for what you did.”

  Shane hesitated with one foot still inside her cell. He didn’t turn around. Instead, his jaw tightened, and a strange emotion flickered across his face, something Meilin almost wanted to interpret as … regret.

  The moment lasted barely a few seconds, and it passed so quickly that Meilin couldn’t be sure he’d hesitated at all.

  Then he stepped out of her cell, and the door shut with a loud, echoing clank.

  Meilin sat in the new silence, savoring that echo, listening to the Conquerors’ footsteps disappear down the hall. In spite of everything, she couldn’t stop a small smile from creeping onto her face. Jhi blinked when she looked at her.

  Gerathon had kept that cell door open to taunt her all this time, knowing she couldn’t – wouldn’t – escape.

  But the door was locked now, because Meilin had forced them to do it. She continued to dwell on this. And she dared to hope.

 
THE FOLLOWING DAY, ALLIES WHO HAD RECEIVED AND accepted their call for help began to arrive, just as Olvan had said they would. Conor waited anxiously to see each of them cresting the horizon and approaching the castle in sporadic groups. It would be a long, hard road ahead for all of them, but at least they were in the company of old friends.

  First came Finn, the Greencloak covered in tattoos who had helped the team find Rumfuss the Boar. Finn arrived in stoic fashion, leaner than before and quieter than ever, although he did manage to crack a small smile of greeting when he saw Conor, Abeke, and Rollan. At his side was Donn, his sleek black wildcat. The cat purred as they made their way back to Greenhaven Castle. Conor marveled at him, remembering the awe they all had felt when they first realized Finn’s spirit animal was this legendary creature.

  “And how has life treated you in Glengavin?” Abeke asked as they walked.

  Finn shook his head. “Very well,” he replied, “until last week.”

  “Why?” Conor asked. “What happened?”

  “What a shame that we reunite under such circumstances.” Finn’s voice turned grim. “You’ll recall our friend MacDonnell, yes? His castle, his law? Well, the Conquerors returned to Trunswick, this time in huge numbers, and laid siege. Lord MacDonnell was forced to retreat and leave his estate to the Conquerors. He will commit his soldiers to our cause.”

  Rollan made an angry sound in his throat. “Our week hasn’t been great either,” he said, pointing up at the dreary sky. “Although I’d much rather get soaked by rain than sacked by Conquerors.”

  Conor felt sad at the thought of the mighty lord’s castle now overrun by Conquerors. Somehow, the older image of Lord MacDonnell in complete control of his domain was comforting. It seemed like such a long time ago. They’d only just learned that Zhong had fallen. Nilo had still been free. The Conquerors were moving fast now.

  Next came Kalani, all the way from the islands of Oceanus, her cloak of seaweed now replaced with a standard cloak. She looked more irritated than Conor remembered, which he figured might have something to do with the fact that she was now in a place quite opposite to that of a tropical paradise. Still, she greeted Conor warmly, even as she muttered something about the never-ending cold drizzle.

  “Thank you for coming, Kalani,” Conor said with a smile. “It’s good to see you.”

  “And you,” Kalani replied. “It’s only a matter of time before the Conquerors take Oceanus completely. I didn’t want to wait around for that to happen.”

  She greeted Abeke too, but when Rollan tried to say hello, Kalani’s lips tightened and she looked away. Rollan’s smile vanished as he did the same. It took Conor a moment to remember that Kalani still considered Rollan tapu–dangerous and forbidden–and therefore could not acknowledge him. This would make for an awkward journey.

  As the day went on, Conor noticed that Abeke hovered constantly at the windows facing the harbors. He knew who she was searching for, and who she hoped to see. But they didn’t come.

  At the end of the day, only Maya and her fire salamander joined them, significantly less bothered by the chilly weather. Conor laughed in surprise at the sight of her. Maya looked nothing like she had when they’d last seen her, when she’d lain limp and nearly lifeless after unleashing the fury of her fire against the Conquerors. Her red hair had been burned away and her cheek scarred with a vicious wound. The scar was still there, a faint but permanent blemish, but Maya’s red hair had grown back a little, enough for her to tuck it behind her ears, and a healthy pink glow illuminated her face. There was a weight in her brilliant blue eyes that didn’t exist before, the lingering pain of the past … but time had a curious way of healing things, and Maya had managed to cover that burden with the new joy of seeing her friends again.

  She squealed at the sight of them all, then threw herself into a hug with Conor, Abeke, and Rollan. Her fire salamander, Tini, watched from her shoulder, his bright yellow spots pulsing happily at the reunion.

  “Other Greencloaks from Eura are on their way too,” Maya told them as they headed toward the hall for dinner. Her short hair bounced with each step. “They’ll join Olvan’s forces.” She glanced at Conor and nodded. “I’ll go with your smaller patrol. You probably won’t need any fire while traveling through Stetriol, but you’ll certainly need a friendly face.” She paused to look adoringly at her spirit animal. “And we are the friendliest faces, aren’t we, Tini? Yes, we are!”

  They all laughed. Seeing the old affection between the two of them lifted Conor’s heart for a moment. It was really, really good to have Maya back.

  The conversation over dinner stayed low. Conor felt like he could touch the tension in the air.

  “A ship with other Greencloaks has set sail from Oceanus. They will join Olvan’s forces in Stetriol.” Kalani rubbed at her dolphin mark, the other tattoos lining her arms bold in the candlelight. Conor felt sorry for her that she couldn’t call on her spirit animal in a place like this. She looked warily around the table. “Do we even know how to get to Kovo’s prison, or the heart of Erdas?”

  Olvan looked uncomfortable at the question, but he lifted his head authoritatively. “There are rumors of where Kovo’s prison is. Ancient accounts of the first war tell of a chain of mountains in Stetriol, near which lies a formation called Muttering Rock. They say Tellun imprisoned Kovo there. Conor’s visions of the red rock also support this theory. It will be a good starting point for us.”

  “We have some old maps,” a voice called from the end of the table. A Greencloak named Dorian sat with them. Conor hadn’t remembered seeing him around the castle. He looked unpleasantly pale, with dark blond hair tied back in a short tail at the nape of his neck. His lips were thin and drawn back into a stern line.

  Dorian laid out several parchments, faded and crinkling with age. He spread them flat on the table for everyone to see. “These are generations old, discovered in some ancient library texts.” He pointed to a landmass on each that Conor had never seen before on any present-day map. “Stetriol.”

  Kalani didn’t look reassured. Neither did Finn. He frowned at the older Greencloak. “This is all we have to go on? Visions? Rumors? Maps from hundreds of years ago? The world has changed much since then. This will hardly be reliable.” He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “I mean no offense, Conor,” he added, “and I know your dreams are crucial to this, but we are heading into true darkness. The very center of it.”

  Conor saw Abeke shiver visibly. When she noticed him looking at her, she looked away and reached for a piece of bread. Abeke tore it in half, the crust crackling as she went. “We’ll be prepared,” she said, trying to sound optimistic. “We’ll have plenty of water and provisions with us.”

  Kalani frowned and rubbed harder at her tattoo. Conor wondered how much water a place like Stetriol might have. The sight reminded Conor of his dream, of how he’d stared and stared at his tattoo of Briggan until he couldn’t see him at all anymore. I might not have Briggan forever. Just the thought sent a stab of pain through him. He buried his hand deeper in the wolf’s fur.

  “Do we know if Stetriol has any harbors?” Kalani asked. “How many people still live there?”

  “We know very little of Stetriol,” Olvan answered. It was not what anyone wanted to hear. The Greencloak furrowed his brows. “Abeke is right. We will prepare the best we can.”

  Conor swallowed hard. He was sitting in a room with the world’s finest Greencloaks, and no one sounded confident about their mission. They were sailing into the unknown now, an untouched and forgotten land. Briggan and the other Four Fallen had died leading the Greencloaks into Stetriol. What would happen this time?

  “Sending the Four Fallen blindly into Stetriol,” Finn said, “and sending an army of Greencloaks as their diversion, to face the Conquerors …” His eyes were tragic. He met Olvan’s stare and held it. “This is a suicide mission, Olvan,” he said gently.

  Conor could feel the dread that rippled through the room. He, Rollan, and Abeke a
ll looked at Olvan, half expecting him to deny such a claim. But he didn’t.

  “We leave tomorrow, at dawn,” Olvan finally replied, his voice very quiet.

  The realization slowly settled into Conor’s heart. This was it, the final stand. Tomorrow, they would leave Greenhaven. And they might never return.

  In the silence that followed, Finn bowed his head. He put a hand flat on the table. “I’m ready,” he said.

  “Me too,” Maya added.

  “Me too,” echoed Rollan and Kalani at the same time. It startled them, and they looked at each other in surprise before they remembered that they weren’t supposed to acknowledge each other. Kalani quickly looked away again.

  Conor chimed in too, followed by Abeke, and gradually, everyone at the table pledged themselves to the journey. They were all ready to lay down their lives. Conor looked around the room, memorizing the moment and the faces.

  Finally Rollan grabbed another dinner roll and bit into it with determination. “Better eat up now, then. It’ll be a hard road.”

  THE JOURNEY TO STETRIOL BEGAN UNDER A FRAGILE sheet of rain and fog, with the smaller of the two Greencloak groups heading out first. Abeke, Conor, and Rollan each rode separately on their own horses; Uraza walked beside Abeke’s mount, while Briggan loped easily alongside Conor. Essix soared ahead, seeking out the harbor where the Tellun’s Pride waited for them. Sacks of provisions bumped against each of their horses’ hindquarters. Behind them came Maya and Kalani. Finn rode ahead, talking in a low voice to the Greencloak named Dorian, who had been tasked with leading the little troupe. Dorian was now pointing out something on one of the ancient maps he’d brought. On his shoulder perched his spirit animal, a horned owl.

  “I’m not sure he’s going to lead us in the right direction,” muttered Rollan. His eyes were fixed on Dorian and filled with resentment. “And an owl? Really? Is his hoot going to scare the Conquerors away?”

  “He’s the keeper of the maps,” Conor replied, clearly trying to keep their conversation reasonable.