Lenori paused for a moment, then spoke in a softer voice. “Would you mind trying for a waking vision?”
“Me?” Conor asked. He was no prophet. “What do you mean?”
“Briggan may be able to use your connection to share information glimpsed from afar.”
Conor rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I wouldn’t know how to begin.”
Lenori crossed to Conor and knelt before him. She took both of his hands in hers. He tried not to go completely rigid.
“Unbeknownst to some Greencloaks,” Lenori explained, “spirit animals do not only exist to let us swing a sword harder. There can be aspects to the connection more valuable than running fast or jumping high. If you relax, I believe I can show you.”
“I’ll try if you want,” Conor said. He certainly couldn’t relax with her holding his hands.
Perhaps sensing this, Lenori backed away. “Don’t try to force it,” she instructed. “Relax and gaze upon Myriam, my rainbow ibis. Watch her as you would a campfire on a lonely night.”
The bird on the perch spread her multicolored wings. She bobbed gently, causing cascades of color to ripple through her vivid feathers. Trying to follow Lenori’s instructions, Conor thought about how he watched campfires. He tried not to stare hard at a fixed point. Without searching for anything specific, he let the rainbow ibis serve as his center of attention.
Lenori was speaking but Conor got lost in the cadence of her words. Her voice was rhythmic, a melodic pulse that steadied and calmed him. Dimly he noticed Briggan turning in a circle, first one way, then the other. He began to feel very drowsy. He blinked his eyes, but it didn’t seem to help. In fact, with every blink, the room became more of a blur.
Conor stared down a misty tunnel. Where had that come from? He soared down the hazy passage without any sensation of movement. At its end, he saw a grizzly bear and a raccoon hurrying across a wide brown prairie. With an effort of will, he sped up until he glided alongside them.
There was no wind in his face, no physical evidence of his speed. But the shaggy grizzly bear ran hard, as did the raccoon. Both kept their eyes fixed on the horizon. Looking ahead, Conor saw a spectacular mountain range. Atop a distant ridge, the great ram was outlined in sunlight.
As soon as his eyes locked on the ram, Conor found himself pulled from behind. Against his will, he withdrew back into the misty tunnel until the animals became specks in the distance. The tunnel collapsed and dissolved. Conor realized that Lenori, Briggan, and the rainbow ibis were all staring at him. He felt clammy. His mouth tasted weird and oddly fuzzy, like after a long sleep.
“What did you see?” Lenori inquired serenely.
“Huh?” He felt unsteady. “I . . . I saw a raccoon and a big, shaggy bear. They were running toward some mountains. I could see Arax beyond them, up high on the rocks. They were heading straight at him.”
“A bear and a raccoon,” Lenori repeated. “Anything else?”
“I didn’t notice much else. I was mostly focused on the bear and the raccoon. I had to go through a long tunnel.”
Lenori gave a triumphant smile. She took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You did it, Conor. I think you found our path.”
In less than an hour, Conor was escorted past a dozen armed guards and through multiple sets of double doors to a high room with the curtains drawn. He found Olvan, Lenori, Tarik, Rollan, and Meilin waiting, along with all of their spirit animals. Tarik’s otter darted around the room in bursts of motion, clambering across furniture and bookcases. Tarik’s pairing with Lumeo seemed odd, since the tall Greencloak was so serious. Olvan’s moose stood near the fireplace, its massive form out of place indoors. The dignified room had a feel similar to the Earl of Trunswick’s study, but it was even bigger.
Olvan stood up, rubbed his big hands together, and swept the room with his keen, knowing gaze. In spite of the white in his hair and beard, he had thick, powerful limbs and a broad chest. Age had not yet robbed him of strength or vigor. Conor could easily imagine him astride his moose, leading an army into battle.
The commander of the Greencloaks noisily cleared his throat. “I know we have kept you in suspense regarding the roles we hope you will play. You can blame me for the delay — I prefer to know the whole story before I share it. Joining the Greencloaks is merely the first step toward the vital purpose we hope you’ll serve. Given recent developments” — he nodded toward Conor — “the time to act is upon us.”
Olvan strolled over to the mantel. When he turned to face the others, his expression was grave. “Centuries and centuries ago, in the last worldwide war, the four nations of Erdas battled the Devourer and his army of Conquerors. Two Great Beasts aided the Devourer — Kovo the Ape and Gerathon the Serpent. Four of the Great Beasts sided with us. Three of them are here today.”
Olvan paused to let that sink in. Feeling unworthy, Conor considered Briggan. The wolf sat listening attentively.
“Before the original Essix, Briggan, Jhi, and Uraza joined the fight, we were losing the war. None of the continents went unscathed. Most of Nilo and Zhong had fallen. The Zhongese and Niloans who escaped fled to Eura and Amaya, only to find those nations besieged as well. Cities were razed. Food was in short supply. It was only a matter of time before the Devourer declared victory.
“The Greencloaks were a fledgling organization then, but when four of the Great Beasts showed their support, the Marked flocked to join us. The Greencloaks did what nobody else had done — they mounted a major offensive, taking the fight to the Devourer. The four Great Beasts gave their lives in the fight, which is why they are known as the Four Fallen. But the Devourer fell as well, and Kovo and Gerathon were captured. The cost was great, but the four nations emerged victorious and began to rebuild.”
“What about the rest of the beasts?” Rollan asked. “The other nine?”
Olvan shrugged. “Seeing the damage that two of their own had caused, a few of the Great Beasts offered their aid at the very end. Tellun the Elk, the most powerful of them all, imprisoned Kovo and Gerathon for their crimes, and Ninani the Swan gifted the Greencloaks with the secret to creating Nectar. The rest . . . well, the Great Beasts are a strange group. They are seldom unanimous on any issue, and their purposes are almost inscrutable. They tend to remain aloof, only getting involved during times of the direst peril.”
“The Devourer didn’t count as serious trouble?” Rollan scoffed.
“Me?” Conor asked. He was no prophet. “What do you mean?”
“Briggan may be able to use your connection to share information glimpsed from afar.”
Conor rubbed his hands over his eyes. “I wouldn’t know how to begin.”
Lenori crossed to Conor and knelt before him. She took both of his hands in hers. He tried not to go completely rigid.
“Unbeknownst to some Greencloaks,” Lenori explained, “spirit animals do not only exist to let us swing a sword harder. There can be aspects to the connection more valuable than running fast or jumping high. If you relax, I believe I can show you.”
“I’ll try if you want,” Conor said. He certainly couldn’t relax with her holding his hands.
Perhaps sensing this, Lenori backed away. “Don’t try to force it,” she instructed. “Relax and gaze upon Myriam, my rainbow ibis. Watch her as you would a campfire on a lonely night.”
The bird on the perch spread her multicolored wings. She bobbed gently, causing cascades of color to ripple through her vivid feathers. Trying to follow Lenori’s instructions, Conor thought about how he watched campfires. He tried not to stare hard at a fixed point. Without searching for anything specific, he let the rainbow ibis serve as his center of attention.
Lenori was speaking but Conor got lost in the cadence of her words. Her voice was rhythmic, a melodic pulse that steadied and calmed him. Dimly he noticed Briggan turning in a circle, first one way, then the other. He began to feel very drowsy. He blinked his eyes, but it didn’t seem to help. In fact, with every blink, the room became more of a blur.
Conor stared down a misty tunnel. Where had that come from? He soared down the hazy passage without any sensation of movement. At its end, he saw a grizzly bear and a raccoon hurrying across a wide brown prairie. With an effort of will, he sped up until he glided alongside them.
There was no wind in his face, no physical evidence of his speed. But the shaggy grizzly bear ran hard, as did the raccoon. Both kept their eyes fixed on the horizon. Looking ahead, Conor saw a spectacular mountain range. Atop a distant ridge, the great ram was outlined in sunlight.
As soon as his eyes locked on the ram, Conor found himself pulled from behind. Against his will, he withdrew back into the misty tunnel until the animals became specks in the distance. The tunnel collapsed and dissolved. Conor realized that Lenori, Briggan, and the rainbow ibis were all staring at him. He felt clammy. His mouth tasted weird and oddly fuzzy, like after a long sleep.
“What did you see?” Lenori inquired serenely.
“Huh?” He felt unsteady. “I . . . I saw a raccoon and a big, shaggy bear. They were running toward some mountains. I could see Arax beyond them, up high on the rocks. They were heading straight at him.”
“A bear and a raccoon,” Lenori repeated. “Anything else?”
“I didn’t notice much else. I was mostly focused on the bear and the raccoon. I had to go through a long tunnel.”
Lenori gave a triumphant smile. She took his hand, squeezing it gently. “You did it, Conor. I think you found our path.”
In less than an hour, Conor was escorted past a dozen armed guards and through multiple sets of double doors to a high room with the curtains drawn. He found Olvan, Lenori, Tarik, Rollan, and Meilin waiting, along with all of their spirit animals. Tarik’s otter darted around the room in bursts of motion, clambering across furniture and bookcases. Tarik’s pairing with Lumeo seemed odd, since the tall Greencloak was so serious. Olvan’s moose stood near the fireplace, its massive form out of place indoors. The dignified room had a feel similar to the Earl of Trunswick’s study, but it was even bigger.
Olvan stood up, rubbed his big hands together, and swept the room with his keen, knowing gaze. In spite of the white in his hair and beard, he had thick, powerful limbs and a broad chest. Age had not yet robbed him of strength or vigor. Conor could easily imagine him astride his moose, leading an army into battle.
The commander of the Greencloaks noisily cleared his throat. “I know we have kept you in suspense regarding the roles we hope you will play. You can blame me for the delay — I prefer to know the whole story before I share it. Joining the Greencloaks is merely the first step toward the vital purpose we hope you’ll serve. Given recent developments” — he nodded toward Conor — “the time to act is upon us.”
Olvan strolled over to the mantel. When he turned to face the others, his expression was grave. “Centuries and centuries ago, in the last worldwide war, the four nations of Erdas battled the Devourer and his army of Conquerors. Two Great Beasts aided the Devourer — Kovo the Ape and Gerathon the Serpent. Four of the Great Beasts sided with us. Three of them are here today.”
Olvan paused to let that sink in. Feeling unworthy, Conor considered Briggan. The wolf sat listening attentively.
“Before the original Essix, Briggan, Jhi, and Uraza joined the fight, we were losing the war. None of the continents went unscathed. Most of Nilo and Zhong had fallen. The Zhongese and Niloans who escaped fled to Eura and Amaya, only to find those nations besieged as well. Cities were razed. Food was in short supply. It was only a matter of time before the Devourer declared victory.
“The Greencloaks were a fledgling organization then, but when four of the Great Beasts showed their support, the Marked flocked to join us. The Greencloaks did what nobody else had done — they mounted a major offensive, taking the fight to the Devourer. The four Great Beasts gave their lives in the fight, which is why they are known as the Four Fallen. But the Devourer fell as well, and Kovo and Gerathon were captured. The cost was great, but the four nations emerged victorious and began to rebuild.”
“What about the rest of the beasts?” Rollan asked. “The other nine?”
Olvan shrugged. “Seeing the damage that two of their own had caused, a few of the Great Beasts offered their aid at the very end. Tellun the Elk, the most powerful of them all, imprisoned Kovo and Gerathon for their crimes, and Ninani the Swan gifted the Greencloaks with the secret to creating Nectar. The rest . . . well, the Great Beasts are a strange group. They are seldom unanimous on any issue, and their purposes are almost inscrutable. They tend to remain aloof, only getting involved during times of the direst peril.”
“The Devourer didn’t count as serious trouble?” Rollan scoffed.
