Meilin gritted her teeth. There was no point in staying any longer. Punching Abeke’s arm lightly, she indicated for the other girl to follow.
When they returned to Finn, Meilin said grimly, “They’re definitely Conquerors, handpicked by Zerif. He says they have some sort of version of Nectar that can force a bond. And they have Rollan and Conor there in the Howling House.”
Finn’s expression went very dark. He said, “At Greenhaven, we had heard rumors. . . . There’s no time to spare. We have to get the others out. What we need is a diversion. Havoc. So they don’t have time to attack us.”
Meilin felt an idea prickle. She whispered, “Keep a lookout. I need to have a moment of silence.”
She released Jhi from her dormant state. The panda was dreadfully conspicuous in the dark. Not the black bits, of course. But everything white. And the blacksmith shop was not designed to fit a panda. Jhi shifted her weight so that the anvil would stop poking her in the flank.
Meilin asked, “Jhi, will you help me? I think I have an idea, but I need to focus.”
The panda actually looked happy to be asked — ears pricked forward, eyes brighter, mouth less tense. Meilin hadn’t realized before that Jhi’s face was capable of holding such expression.
The moment Meilin closed her eyes, the panda’s calming influence washed over her.
It would be easy to fall asleep, she thought. She could curl up in the panda’s soft fur right here. Suddenly she missed Zhong so badly that she could cry.
This was all part of the panda’s power, she knew. Pushing down all her logical barriers. She didn’t have time for it. Focusing, she shoved away the emotion.
Choices swirled into view. This time they were more like stars than planets: bright and hard to look at directly. When Meilin considered some of them — causing a commotion with the mastiffs, sneaking in another window, attacking the guards directly — they fizzled and died out.
But one choice stayed bright. Meilin let it circle her as she studied it from all sides, looking for dull areas or weakness.
This idea isn’t an easy one, she thought.
Jhi’s encouragement washed over her. Of course she was right. Meilin had never needed the easy way.
She opened her eyes.
“Well?” Abeke asked.
Meilin said, “I’m going to need you to cover for me. This idea is going to take a bit of time.”
9: Escape
“WELL, THIS IS BRILLIANT,” ROLLAN SAID. “EVERYTHING I imagined our second mission would be.”
Their captors had taken all their things and thrown them in a stall in the Howling House, fifteen feet wide and fifteen feet long, with bars and fine wire over a single, tiny window high up on the wall. The stone floor was covered with claw marks. Deep ones. Some of them were at the edges, like an animal had tried to dig itself out. But some of them were randomly gouged into the middle of the wall. Like the animal was just angry. Or crazy.
Conor was halfway to crazy himself after being in the stall for only an hour. He didn’t do well being contained. All he could think about was how wrong Trunswick seemed, and how he didn’t know if his mother was trapped here — or even if she was still alive. He couldn’t be sure of anything in a world where he was thrown into prison on sight.
Rollan lolled on the opposite wall, scruffy and indolent, picking his teeth with a piece of straw. He looked rather at home here in prison. But Conor was beginning to realize that Rollan worked very hard on looking at home anywhere.
“I just don’t understand how Devin has a spirit animal,” Conor said. “I was there, Rollan. I saw him at the Nectar Ceremony. There was no trick.”
Rollan mused, “Did you see how tight he and the spirit animal were? They were the best of friends. It did just what he asked. I mean, why would it do that? Clearly it’s not because of Devin’s dazzling personality.”
In between this line of thinking and remembering the encounter with the Trunswicks earlier, Conor suddenly felt awfully tired . . . and an awful lot like a shepherd’s son. “Look, Rollan. I’m sorry. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”
The other boy wordlessly lifted an eyebrow.
“It wasn’t that it was ever home,” Conor confessed. “Home was the fields. But . . . it was different, at least, before. My mother sent me a letter and said she was working here now that I was gone, and that things weren’t going so well. I just wanted to see her, see how bad things were. And I thought it would make her proud to see . . .”
He trailed off. He didn’t want to think about where his mother might be. His heart felt as low as it could go.
“We all make mistakes,” Rollan said. “For instance, that laundry I ate last night. That was a mistake. I can still taste it.”
Conor sighed. At least he had apologized. It didn’t make him feel much better, though. He knew only weakness had brought him here. Why in the world would someone like him have summoned Briggan? What a waste.
“You’re driving me crazy with the pacing,” Rollan said. He frowned. “Did you just hear something?”
Conor listened. He heard the sounds of animals moving in the stall next door, and night birds cooing outside, and the sound of his own breathing. “What sort of something?”
Rollan cocked his head. “A screaming sort of something?”
They both listened.
Outside, a thin shout pierced the quiet. Then another. Then a higher scream, far away.
“Yep,” said Rollan. “See, screaming. I’d recognize that sound anywhere. I’m a bit of a connoisseur of it. That, to me, sounds like high-quality surprise right there.”
They both jumped as something struck the fine wire of the window. It was Essix, perched precariously on the ledge. She dragged her talons across the wire.
“She’s trying to get in!” Conor exclaimed.
“Sadly, that’s not going to happen, my friend,” Rollan told Essix, who cried thinly.
Outside, the shouts grew more numerous. They were followed by a peculiar crashing noise that Conor couldn’t quite place.
Suddenly Finn was at the door, a small square of his face visible through the wire-covered view hole by the latch. He worked busily at the lock.
“Finn!” Conor said happily.
“Get ready,” Finn warned. His fingers trembled as he worked at the lock, but his voice was steady. “You might have to fight your way out.”
Rollan yipped in surprise. Water pooled around his feet.
Alarmed, Conor lifted a damp boot from the ground. “Where’s that water coming from?”