The Wildcat's Claw

  For Crystal, who gives us treats even when we misbehave—VJ

  Contents

  Dagger Symbol

  Greencloak Letter

  Quote Page

  Title Page

  Map of Erdas

  Dedication

  1: LENORI

  2: ACROSS THE OCEAN

  3: THE COUNTRYSIDE

  4: THE MARKET

  5: REMEMBERING OLD FRIENDS

  6: TRAPPER ATTACK

  7: TRUNSWICK

  8: RACE AGAINST THE MILITIA

  9: THE MIGHTY WILCO

  10: THE ENCHANTED FOREST

  11: THE WATERFALL

  12: BOND TOKENS

  13: THE BATTLE

  14: THE WILDCAT’S ROAR

  About the Author

  Online Game Code

  Sneak Peek

  Spirit Animals Game

  Copyright

  LENORI PACED HER CRAMPED QUARTERS—WHICH WERE little more than a small, single holding cell with meager wood furnishings. She hadn’t had contact with Olvan, or any other Greencloaks, since being imprisoned. Most of the others had been captured and returned to Greenhaven Castle, where they would be held for trial, but she and Olvan remained in the Council Citadel.

  Olvan.

  He’d been struck by a stone viper’s fangs, and most of his body was turned to stone. Thanks to her rainbow ibis, Myriam, Lenori could sense his presence. He was in pain, but alive, though she didn’t know for how long.

  She didn’t know how long any of them had.

  The Second Devourer War had taken a heavy toll on all the nations, and the Wyrm’s destructive reign of terror only amplified people’s fears. The Greencloaks had saved the world, but it had come at a great price. Despite their best efforts, many people had suffered.

  Zerif, under the Wyrm’s control, had used his immense powers to ravage the world. But these battles weren’t just fought in far-off lands like Stetriol or Arctica. There was bloodshed in every village. Neighbor against neighbor. Brother against brother. Mother against daughter. Father against son.

  The Greencloaks themselves had inflicted some of the worst damage.

  Zerif, armed with the Wyrm’s parasites, had taken control of most of their order, and had then turned them loose to wreak havoc in every corner of every land. There was no village, no militia, and no army that could prevail against a legion of Greencloaks when they partnered with their spirit animals. With their true, uninhibited powers now unleashed, the Greencloaks had shown the world just how powerful they’d become.

  People were afraid of them. They were angry. They were distrustful. And Lenori couldn’t fault any of them for feeling that way.

  She and Olvan thought that by coming here to meet with the leaders of the nations, they would be able to soothe any doubts and remind the world that the Greencloaks only wanted to preserve peace. They had even brought along the Four Heroes of Erdas—each from a different nation, but united in their oath to serve and protect all lands. But thanks to traitors within their midst, the Emperor of Zhong had fallen, and the real Greencloaks were left to take the blame.

  Lenori pressed her ear against the door to make sure that no one was nearby, but heard only a quiet dripping from the Citadel’s leaking roof. She released Myriam from passive state. The ibis strutted around, proudly displaying her rainbow feathers and shaking her long, thin legs.

  “No time for showing off, Myriam,” Lenori said. “We must find our young friends.”

  She sat down on the stone floor and closed her eyes. She pushed the cold of the room, the fear of her imprisonment, and the worry for her fellow Greencloaks from her mind. Her pulse slowed and her body relaxed. It was just her, Myriam, and Erdas, united as one.

  A hazy image floated before her. She concentrated, trying to sharpen its edges. Trying to bring it into focus. It was a ship, cutting across the ocean. Squeezing her eyes tighter, she saw the Four Heroes huddled in a small room. No—not four. There were six of them. They had been tested recently—she could see the weariness of their faces—but they exuded a sense of accomplishment. Her mind centered itself on Rollan. Her gaze fell to the thin leather strap around his neck.

  The Heart of the Land. He had revealed it!

  She heard something in the distance. Echoes? Footsteps?

  Was there danger on the boat? A trap waiting to be sprung?

  She shook her head. Those sounds weren’t coming from the ship. Someone was approaching her room.

  She blinked, and her mind returned to her cell. She looked at the ibis, sitting calmly beside her. “Myriam, back to me. I don’t want them to know that you’ve been loose.”

  The rainbow ibis disappeared just as the heavy wooden door swung open. Two Oathbound warriors, both dressed in black, entered the room. She recognized the one with the short blond hair. Sure enough, the woman’s brown stone viper flashed into view, curling around her large arm. Brunhild the Merry. She was the one who’d poisoned Olvan.

  The other warrior was new to Lenori. Like Brunhild, this woman wore a black uniform with brass neck and wrist collars, but the woman also sported shiny, gaudy rings on most of her fingers. Her long brown hair was twisted into an intricate braid that trailed over her shoulder, like an embroidered rope hanging from a curtain.

  The unknown woman snapped her fingers, and a servant entered the room, carrying a tray full of breads, dates, and cheeses. Lenori willed her stomach to remain silent. It was the first food she’d seen in two days.

  The servant placed the tray before Lenori, then left the room. The woman with the long braid took a step forward. “Don’t you want to eat?”

  Lenori pretended that the food wasn’t there. “No, I want to be set free.”

  The braided woman shook her head. “Don’t ask for the impossible,” she said. “Go on, take a bite. Eat it all. Gorge yourself.” She grinned. “I promise it isn’t laced with stone viper venom.”

  Lenori instead curled her hands into her lap. “What do you want from me?”

  “We know why your young friends were in Amaya,” the Oathbound woman said, whipping her braid over her shoulder and behind her back. She began to pace, her boots echoing on the scarred stone bricks. “For such a small amulet, it carries quite a punch. The children were lucky to escape with it.” She pulled a red-tinged sword from her side. It sparkled as light hit its blade. “We’ve heard reports that they’re on a ship headed for Eura,” she said. “What’s there? Another of these so-called gifts?”

  Lenori stared ahead, saying nothing.

  The woman knelt so that she and Lenori were face-to-face. Her hazel eyes were as cold as the floor. Then she placed her sword on the ground, well within Lenori’s reach. It was almost as if the woman were daring Lenori to try to grab it.

  “I understand that you don’t want to betray your friends,” the woman said. “But they’re just children. They shouldn’t be fighting these battles. Take pity on them. Spare them any further pain and hardship.”

  “They’ve saved the world twice,” Lenori said. “You should not underestimate them.”

  The woman inspected her own hands, tracing her fingertips across her numerous rings. The ring on her middle finger was adorned with three small, cone-shaped spikes. She twisted the ring so the spikes pointed from the inside of her hand. Then, with a wry smile creeping across her face, the woman slapped Lenori. Lenori cried out, more from the shock than the pain. Then the woman struck Lenori again, even harder. Lenori’s face burned. The woman’s ring had left its mark.

  “And you should not underestimate me,” the woman replied as she twisted her blood-tipped ring back into place.

  Lenori let her gaze flicker to the sword lying on the floor. She considered lunging for it, but stopped herself. She was su
re that was exactly what the woman wanted. Lenori refused to give her the satisfaction.

  Leaving the sword on the floor, the woman picked up a loaf of bread. She tore off a small piece, then popped it into her mouth. “Delicious.” Then she held the bread under Lenori’s nose. “I know you want a bite. You must be delirious with hunger.”

  Lenori shook her head.

  The woman sighed, then ate a larger piece. “Where are they going, Lenori? What are they searching for? Is there another gift out there? Is it just as powerful as the Heart of the Land?” The woman dropped the remaining bread on the tray, picked up her sword, and returned to her feet. “I promise, if you help me, I will capture them safely and return them unharmed.” The woman glanced at Brunhild. “You know what happened to Olvan. I would hate for a similar fate to befall those children.”

  “You’ll never find them,” Lenori said.

  For the first time since entering the room, the woman stopped smiling. “Perhaps another two days without food will help you change your mind.” She snapped her fingers, and the Oathbound warrior returned. Lenori’s insides seized as he picked up the tray.

  The braided woman held up her hand, signaling the warrior to stop. With her sword, she sliced off a minuscule hunk of cheese. Barely enough to fill a thimble.

  “On second thought, why don’t you keep a piece,” she said, tossing the food at Lenori. It bounced off her leg and landed on the floor beside her. Specks of dirt covered the once pristine cheese.

  “See how kind I am? I could have left you with nothing.” The woman stepped out of the room. “But like that food, my kindness will not last forever. Tell me what I want to know, or prepare yourself for death.”

  The door slammed shut, leaving Lenori in silence. She picked up the small slice of cheese. Her mouth watered.… It smelled even better once in her hands.

  Then, slowly, she ground the food between her fingers, disintegrating it.

  Her faith may be tested, but she would not falter.

  She was a Greencloak.

  Committed to the end, no matter what.

  CONOR GLANCED OUT OF THE PORTHOLE OF THE SLEEK clipper as it sliced through choppy seas and strong winds. They had boarded the boat in a small coastal town just north of Concorba. Thanks to a small collection of coins from Worthy—and Rollan’s skill with negotiations—they had been able to secure a cabin with four beds, along with two packs of meager provisions. The room wasn’t nearly big enough for all six of them to comfortably sleep at one time, but Conor and his friends weren’t in the position to be choosy.

  Stepping closer to the window, Conor squinted at his reflection in the dirty, smudged glass. He reached to his forehead and ran his fingers along his skin, right where the mark of the Wyrm used to be. The black, swirling mark had faded from view, but he could still feel its power. Its weight. It was an invisible burden he feared he would carry for the rest of his life.

  “See anything of interest?” a voice asked behind him.

  Smiling, he turned around. Abeke was always light on her feet, even with Uraza, her leopard, in passive state on her arm. Conor flexed his own forearm, watching his muscles ripple underneath Briggan’s mark. He hated leaving the Great Wolf in passive state for so long, but their current mission required stealth, not strength.

  Conor looked back out the window and stared into the distance. “It could be a mirage, but I think I see land in the distance.”

  “I just spoke with the captain,” she said. “We’ll reach port soon.”

  Conor grinned. Eura. Green fields. Light-blue skies and a cool breeze on his face. “Do you think I’ll be able to see my family?” Conor asked. Although he had seen them recently, he always loved spending time with his parents and brothers. He didn’t even mind getting up early in the morning to herd and shear the sheep. Seeing his family helped remind Conor that as a Greencloak, he not only fought to protect Erdas, he also fought to protect those closest to him.

  “I could show you guys a real Euran meal,” he continued. “Shepherd’s pie and all.”

  Abeke frowned, which was more than enough of an answer for him. Rollan had gone to see his mother in Amaya, and as a result, the Oathbound had almost captured them. If it wasn’t for Worthy, they probably wouldn’t have escaped.

  Abeke saw something in his face—perhaps worry for his family—because she suddenly smiled and said, “Maybe the bounties put out for us by the Oathbound haven’t yet reached all parts of Erdas. If so, and if time allows, I’m sure you’ll be able to see your family. And it would be nice to have a normal meal for once.” She turned to their friends, still asleep. “We should wake the others.”

  “You wake up Rollan,” Conor said, pointing to one of the cots on the other side of the room. “He’s always cranky when he doesn’t get enough sleep.”

  Conor went to rouse Worthy and Anka while Abeke crossed their quarters. Worthy was curled into a fetal position on his bed, his red cloak draped over his body. Conor wasn’t sure, but he thought that he might have been purring in his sleep.

  “Get up, Worthy,” Conor said, giving him a slight nudge.

  The Redcloak yawned and stretched, his golden eyes blinking behind his white, cat-shaped mask. Worthy tried to stand, but became unbalanced with the shifting of the ship. He slowly sank back to the flat mattress. “You should have woken me when we reached land.”

  Conor shook his head. In addition to his heightened reflexes and strength, Worthy had also gained his former spirit animal’s dislike of water—and a black tail that he preferred no one talk about. Conor wondered what other traits Worthy had inherited when he merged with the wildcat. Hopefully he wouldn’t start shedding or hacking up hairballs.

  Anka stirred in the bunk beside Worthy. At least Conor assumed it was Anka. Thanks to her chameleon’s powers, she had blended in with the threadbare blue blanket covering her, making her almost invisible to the eye. As she sat up, her skin shifted from the muted blue to a warm brown, matching the planks on the cabin walls.

  Across the room, Meilin and Rollan yawned. Meilin jumped out of bed, but Rollan remained in the adjacent bunk, pulling his thick brown cloak around him and squeezing his eyes shut. The cloak had seemed too warm for Amaya, but it would serve him well on their journey through Eura. Conor knew how cold the nights could get, and he wondered if they had been too hasty in leaving their trusty green cloaks along the roadside in Amaya.

  “I don’t always agree with Worthy, but he kind of has a point,” Rollan said. “How about you wake us up when we get there?”

  Meilin leaned over and thumped Rollan’s ear. “Don’t you want breakfast?”

  Rollan groaned. “Salted flounder and stale biscuits. For the tenth day in a row.” He faked a smile. “Yum.”

  Meilin thumped his ear again. “You’ve had worse. Remember that meal of seal fat in the Ardu settlement?”

  “Don’t remind me,” he said, rubbing his ear. “I’ll take the fish.”

  “First things first,” Anka said, rising from the bed, her skin a transparent blur. “Worthy, now would be a good time for you to fill us in on everything you know about the next gift.”

  Worthy leaned back against the wall with his hands behind his head. He had seemed to enjoy withholding this information from them, probably because he wanted to make himself feel more important. For Worthy’s sake, Conor hoped that he really knew where the next gift was. If not, Meilin was liable to toss him overboard.

  Worthy’s gaze settled on Conor. “Do you remember the stories about the great Euran warrior and his black wildcat?” he asked him.

  Conor nodded. “A little. The rumors were that the wildcat was as large as Tellun.”

  “No, even larger,” Worthy said. “The beast’s booming roar was as loud as a thousand erupting volcanoes. Its fur was as dark as midnight during a lunar eclipse, and its diamond-forged claws and teeth could shred the densest of rock.”

  “I bet it couldn’t slice the armor of the famous Amayan gila monster,” Rollan mumbled.
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  Meilin, who was now sitting on the bed beside Rollan, jutted her elbow into his side. “Hush,” she warned.

  “There was also a rumor about the warrior wielding a powerful sword,” Worthy continued. “Its hilt contained a yellow gem that matched the beast’s eyes. And its blade was supposedly as sharp as the black wildcat’s claws.” Worthy paused. “That’s what they called it: the Wildcat’s Claw.”

  “Do you know where this sword is?” Abeke asked.

  He shook his head. “We used to have a replica of the sword at Trunswick Manor. I used it during the war—that is, until it broke. So much for it being forged from the finest Trunswick iron. Anyway, while it wasn’t the real thing, my father kept all sorts of journals and histories about our local legends at the manor. It was sort of an obsession of his. His library would be the best place to research the location of the real Wildcat’s Claw.”

  Conor had remembered seeing the replica of this sword, but only once, when he was working as a servant to Worthy. Worthy had just been the spoiled Devin Trunswick back then, and Conor had been a simple shepherd’s son. How times had changed.

  “Without any other leads, it seems like our best course of action is to travel to Trunswick,” Meilin said. She had risen from the bed, and was now spinning a quarterstaff around herself. “Hopefully we can find the records that will lead us to the real sword.”

  Conor knew he was beaming, and he didn’t even try to hide it. Trunswick! Perhaps he would be able to see his family after all. They lived close to the city, easily within a day’s travel.

  “We’ll need more supplies,” Abeke said. “The weather will not be as forgiving as Amaya.”

  “There are plenty of trading posts on the way to Trunswick,” Worthy said. “I think I have enough money to get us what we need.”

  “Yes, thank you for that,” Anka said. “After so many days on the road, it was nice to sleep in a real bed.”

  “Don’t thank me,” he said. “Thank the Redcloaks. Shane left us a small fortune when he … you know …”

  Conor was glad that Worthy didn’t finish his statement. Abeke had turned toward the wall, away from them. Shane, the former leader of the Redcloaks, had died while fighting against the Wyrm. Abeke didn’t speak of him much, but she’d cared greatly for him, even if those feelings were complicated.