“The water tower,” Finn said. He kept digging at the lock. His hands kept trembling, but the rest of him stayed steady. Voices rose outside.
“What’s that sound?” Conor asked.
“Greencloaks, and their supporters,” Finn replied. He kicked the lock angrily. “The earl’s locked up dozens of people who spoke out for the Greencloaks.”
Rollan joined Conor at the door. “What’s wrong with your hands?”
Finn’s eyes cut up to Rollan. “Nothing.”
Rollan’s eyes narrowed as if he knew there was more to the story, but he just asked, “What’s wrong with the lock?”
“It’s jammed somehow,” Finn said. He pulled on the door, hard. It jumped on its hinges but didn’t give way. “I need more force. Can you push from the inside?”
Conor and Rollan threw their shoulders against the wood. The door jumped unsuccessfully. They couldn’t push hard enough. There was shouting from not very far away.
“Are the other locks like this?” Conor asked.
“No. It’s only this one that seems jammed! I’ve unlocked it, but the bolt won’t give.”
“Then free the others,” Conor said. “Maybe they can help hold off the guards. We’ll keep pushing. Go!”
Finn hesitated. “I’ll come back when I’m done if you haven’t escaped yet.”
As he hurried away, Conor and Rollan tried the door again. Water wicked up their legs. Straw floated on the water seeping through the walls and under the door.
“How much water can there be in that tower?” growled Rollan through gritted teeth.
“How stuck can this door be?” Conor said. “They just put us in here! If we just had a bit more weight —”
A voice came through the door. “You do. Release Briggan!”
“Meilin!” both boys said at once.
Her angular eye appeared in the opening. What was visible of her hair was soaking wet. She said, “Trust you two to need to get rescued! Conor, why are you just standing there? I said, release Briggan! Hurry up. Where’s Tarik?”
“It’s a long story. He’s safe, but not here. Meilin, the guards —” Conor started.
“They’re busy for the moment. I’ve knocked over the water tower.”
“Knocked it over!” Rollan said, shocked. “It’s not a goblet. You can’t just knock it over.”
“Well, I did. Conor!”
With a flash, Conor released Briggan. The wolf instantly appeared beside him. He lifted his damp paws with distaste.
“Can you help, Briggan?” Conor asked. “You’re heavy!”
Without hesitation, the wolf jumped up onto the door. His weight hit it just as Meilin pulled on her side. Conor and Rollan hurled themselves against it as well. Meilin groaned. Briggan groaned. The boys groaned. The door groaned too. And then it fell open.
“That’s it!” Conor clapped his hands on either side of the wolf’s muzzle. The wolf let out a thrilled, resonant cry.
“All right, all right,” Rollan said. “Enough of the happy reunion.”
They splashed down the dim corridor after Meilin. Half of the torches had been extinguished in the commotion.
Rollan’s voice was tinged with awe as he asked, “How did you knock over the water tower?”
Meilin glanced over her shoulder. Without a hint of a smile, she replied, “I had tutors for it, back in Zhong.”
The three of them suddenly grinned at each other, relieved that they were back together again, even if they weren’t out of trouble.
“Prepare yourselves,” Meilin added at the end of the corridor. “It’s wild out there.”
Outside, the courtyard was lit erratically by fretful torchlight. Trunswick guards fought with over a dozen people without uniforms — the former prisoners of the Howling House. Spirit animals skirmished and galloped around the edges of the yard. Mastiffs milled underfoot.
Briggan pressed up against the back of Conor’s leg, pushing him outside, and Conor thought: This is madness.
Finn and another man ran up to them. Even in the dim light, Conor could see that the other man was tattered and haggard. Conor had been imprisoned for just a few hours. It was clear the other man’s imprisonment had lasted much longer.
“Hurry,” Finn urged. “Follow me! They can’t cover us long.”
“Cover us?” Conor echoed. His eyes roamed over the fighting. “We have to help!”
The haggard man shook his head. “No. Briggan and the others must escape from here. You are meant for more than this.”
Just then, one of the mastiffs jumped, lurching heavily into the haggard man’s side. As he turned to face it, another savagely bared its slobbery teeth before lunging for his neck. Meilin immediately turned to help him, but Finn seized her arm.
“You heard what he wanted. Don’t make him fight for nothing,” he snapped. “Our goal is the talisman. Their goal is to allow us to pursue that goal.”
Another man ran up to attack the mastiffs. But the haggard man didn’t get back up.
“They want you out of here,” Finn hissed, dragging Meilin away. “I’m getting you out of here. I said follow me.”
It felt wrong to leave the Greencloak supporters behind, even if they wanted the Four Fallen to escape.
This is wrong, Conor thought. If we’re so important, why can’t we make a difference now? What makes us any better than these men and women?
As they threaded through the fighting, Meilin blocked blows and Rollan ducked under swinging staffs. Everything smelled like burning wood and sweat. A rabbit bounded by them. A small bear clawed on another side. Conor realized that these must be the spirit animals of the captured Greencloaks and their supporters from the Howling House. Individually, the animals wanted to help. But as a group, they had no plan or order. It wasn’t like Conor and the others — at least they’d had some training to work together.
If only they’d had a way to formulate a plan before all of this, Conor thought.
Just then, a guard dragged Conor to a stop by his cloak. Conor jerked and tugged, but the guard kept pulling him closer. Conor’s boots skidded across the dirt courtyard. He was much smaller than his assailant.
“Rollan! Meilin!” he shouted. But the commotion drowned out his voice. The others hadn’t even noticed that he’d been apprehended.
The guard flipped out a stubby, sharp sword. The look on his face was branded in Conor’s mind.