Wild Born
Page 18

 Brandon Mull

  • Background:
  • Text Font:
  • Text Size:
  • Line Height:
  • Line Break Height:
  • Frame:
Conor frowned. “If you’re worried, we should tell Olvan. I’m sure he has lots of people who can help us find Essix.”
Rollan hesitated. It had been a feeble excuse, but better than pretending he thought the kitchen was on this side of the castle. “You’re right. Why don’t you and Briggan go tell Olvan? I want to get started on my own just in case.”
Conor glanced at the satchel. “What’s in the bag?”
“Falcon food. You know . . . as bait.”
Conor gave him a look. “Big bag for falcon food.”
Rollan sighed and gave up. “Look, don’t get Olvan. Essix is fine. I’m just . . . thinking about a change of scenery.”
“You’re running away?” Conor blurted incredulously. Briggan cocked his head.
“I’m escaping,” Rollan clarified.
“You’re not a prisoner,” Conor said.
“I’m not so sure!” Rollan replied. “You think they’d let me go? Just wander off with Essix?”
Conor paused. “Yeah, if you insisted.”
“How would you know? You signed up as soon as they dangled a cloak in front of you.”
Conor shifted. “I signed up after I learned that I had summoned Briggan,” he replied defensively. “I never asked for my own Great Beast, but it happened, and now the Greencloaks need my help to protect the world.”
“From what?” Rollan scoffed. “They still haven’t explained! Not really. We hear there’s a war in Zhong. They whisper about the Devourer. People I’ve never met look at me hopefully, and I have no idea what they expect. Even if my falcon really is the same Essix from the old stories, what are we supposed to do about a war? In the stories Essix was huge and could talk. This Essix hardly seems to like me!”
“I wonder why,” Conor said. Briggan gave his head a quick shake. Was the wolf laughing at them?
“Watch it, sheep boy.” Rollan bristled. “You might like being herded, but that isn’t my style.”
“Yeah, well, at least I don’t run away the second I get scared,” Conor replied with sputtering anger. “You think this isn’t hard for me? You think I don’t have doubts too? You think I want to be stuck in some castle across the sea from my home? Go ahead and call me sheep boy any time you want. Herding sheep takes a lot more courage and know-how than sneaking away in the night!”
Rollan found himself temporarily at a loss for words. If Conor was working with the Greencloaks in spite of his own doubts, because he thought it was the right thing to do, well, there wasn’t much fault to find in that. Not that he had to admit it.
“I just need some space,” Rollan said softly, choosing to fight honesty with honesty. “How am I supposed to think this through while surrounded by Greencloaks? Every meal I eat, every hand I shake, feels like pressure to join them. How am I supposed to make my own choice? The Greencloaks probably aren’t bad folks. But I’m not sure their interest in me goes one inch beyond the falcon. That means they’re using me and that makes me cautious.”
“I hear you,” Conor said. “Nobody paid much mind to me either, until Briggan came along. Then I was suddenly the center of attention.”
“Doesn’t that make you question their motives?”
Conor gave a little nod and Briggan stared expectantly at him. “Maybe. But I’m convinced that they’re trying to defend Erdas. They need Briggan, so they need me too. Besides, Briggan seems to trust them.”
The wolf wagged his tail and began to pace.
Rollan glanced at the corridor behind Conor. “Whatever I choose, I guess I blew my escape tonight. You going to turn me in?”
“You haven’t done anything,” Conor replied, meeting Rollan’s eyes steadily.
Rollan lowered his head and rubbed his eyebrows with his knuckles. “I guess I could wait around to hear the specifics.”
“You could probably make a better choice that way,” Conor pointed out.
“Meanwhile, they’ll have the chance to keep reeling me in,” Rollan said. “I won’t let them force me into this. I don’t care if it gets awkward. I don’t even care if they lock me up. Actually, if they lock me up, I’ll know I made the right call.”
Conor extended his arms and opened his mouth in a jaw-cracking yawn. “I’m glad you might stick around for now. I’d hate to be left alone with Meilin.”
Rollan smirked. “Does she scare you?”
Conor shrugged. “I’ve got two brothers. I don’t know the first thing about girls.”
“I hear they like flowers.”
“If you say so.” Conor turned and patted the side of his leg. “Come on, Briggan, let’s get back to bed. Good night, Rollan.”
“Night.” He watched until Conor walked out of sight. Then Rollan reconsidered his options. He supposed he could still make his escape. But the mood had left him.
Rollan started back toward his room. His secret departure may have been compromised, but all was not lost. He could always steal away some other night.
7 TEAMWORK
ON HER WAY TO THE TRAINING ROOM, ALMOST EVERY single person Meilin passed stared at her. Some covertly, some unashamedly gawking. Conversations stopped in mid-sentence when she came into view, and once she passed, whispers followed her. The few who didn’t stare sent her careful glances or self-conscious waves and nods, which were almost more telling. Rollan was right. The Greencloaks had heavy expectations of her.
Meilin entered the wide and airy room and found Conor waiting with his wolf. The training area looked almost too large — much bigger than the practice space she had used with the masters back home. She guessed the vaulted ceiling was meant for Greencloaks with winged beasts.
“Glad to see you,” Conor said, rubbing his arm self-consciously. “I was starting to worry I’d come to the wrong place.”
“I got a message with my breakfast,” Meilin said. “They asked me to report here with Jhi as soon as I finished.”
Conor nodded. “Me too. I could hardly eat after the note. I can’t, um, I don’t know my letters very well, so I had to get help to read it.” Conor reddened. “Did it sound like a test to you?”
“Some kind of assessment.”
Conor glanced at Briggan, then back at Meilin. “I guess Jhi is on your hand?”
“She seems to prefer it much of the time.”
Conor nodded, then seemed very aware that he had run out of things to say. Crouching, he stroked Briggan. Meilin watched him avoid her gaze. He was a simple boy, baseborn, uneducated, yet in one important way he was her peer — he had summoned one of the Four Fallen. Why him? Could it be random chance? If so, why her? Would random chance select someone as prepared for leadership as herself?