Home > Hunted (Spirit Animals #2)(34)

Hunted (Spirit Animals #2)(34)
Author: Maggie Stiefvater

And then she stopped. With her tail crooked into a curl, she meowed smugly.

“Kunaya?” a voice called out, sounding just a little tearful.

Abeke! Rollan was stunned, even though the suggestion to follow the cat had been his. He vowed to make sure that Kunaya got a cat banquet thrown for her when this was all over.

He ran to one side of the carriage; Meilin ran to the other. Resting in the center of the carriage’s floorboard was a massive wooden trunk with a heavy lock.

Meilin leaned over the edge of the door. “Abeke! We’re here to save you!”

“Meilin?” Abeke’s startled voice came from inside the trunk. “Is that you?”

“And Rollan is here too,” Rollan said indignantly.

“I didn’t think anyone would find me!” Abeke cried, her voice muffled. “I managed to knot my bracelet onto Kunaya, but I ran out of cord before I could spell out where —”

“Great story,” said Rollan. “Tell us later. After we get you out.”

He grabbed ahold of the lock on the trunk and gave it a tug. Frowning at Meilin, he shook his head.

Meilin pursed her lips. “Perhaps there’s a spare key? Or — I bet Jhi could crush this entire thing if she sat on it!”

“Jhi is going to sit on me?” Abeke cried, voice panicked.

“Well, the trunk, not —”

“Jhi isn’t sitting on anyone,” Rollan said calmly. Clambering up on the carriage back, he grabbed for the canopy. It ripped easily, and with it came the thin pieces of metal that gave the canopy its shape. In a heartbeat, Rollan had pulled one from the fabric. He jammed it into the trunk’s lock and wiggled it around in a practiced way. Looking over his shoulder at Meilin, he grinned cheekily.

“What?” she said, flushing. “What are you smiling at me for? The lock —”

“What lock?” Rollan said. At that instant he twisted his makeshift pick a final time. The lock popped open and clattered to the ground.

Never has a poorly spent childhood paid off so well, Rollan thought with satisfaction.

Meilin laughed, a bright, honest sound that she swallowed as soon as she realized he had noticed it.

“Let me guess,” Meilin said. “Tutors?”

Rollan grinned.

In the carriage, the trunk’s lid flew open. Abeke and Uraza leaped out in motions so identical they looked like two of the same animal rather than one human and one leopard.

“How did you find me?” Abeke asked breathlessly.

“Kunaya’s not a spirit animal,” Meilin answered, looking down at the cat, “but she’s still a pretty great beast.” Meilin tugged the bracelet off Kunaya’s head and held it out to Abeke.

“Have Devin and Karmo found Rumfuss?” Abeke asked as she took the bracelet from Meilin and put it back on her wrist. “They’ve been looking for hours now!”

“I don’t think so,” Rollan said. “We can still find him before they do. Although I don’t have a clue where to look. What do boars like? Mud?”

Meilin and Abeke exchanged a look of exasperation.

“We could go ask MacDonnell?” Abeke suggested.

“By the time we find him and then look for Rumfuss —” Meilin began.

She was cut off by a sharp cry from the top of a nearby carriage. Essix was perched on a driver’s seat. When she caught Rollan’s surprised look, she cocked her head as if to say, What? I showed up, didn’t I?

“What is she trying to say, Rollan?” Meilin asked.

Rollan muttered, “Like I would know.”

But the falcon ruffled her feathers at him and cocked her head. He felt the familiar sensation of her intuition trickling into his own mind. If it was like this all the time, he thought, things would be a lot easier.

Meilin and Abeke were waiting for his verdict.

“Essix is the answer,” he said. “She can guide us from above. Come on!”

15: The Hare

I HOPE THEY’VE FOUND ABEKE, CONOR THOUGHT AS HE AND Finn rushed down a path that snaked along the castle’s east wall. Their search for the hare had consumed more time than Conor liked, and still they’d seen no sign of their friends. Around them, the garden darkened as morning faded into afternoon, and afternoon into late afternoon. Losing the talisman to Devin would be awful, but losing another one of their team after Tarik . . . it would be unthinkable. Briggan glanced over at Conor, as if he’d overheard the boy’s thoughts.

“Convincing the hare to rejoin MacDonnell won’t be easy,” Finn said from behind them, startling Conor back to the moment. “Not after the way MacDonnell treated him.”

“Remember Rollan’s horse when we left Greenhaven?” Conor said, looking back at him. “He used to be a spirit animal. He was jealous of Rollan and Essix’s bond. Maybe when the hare sees Briggan and me, he’ll be jealous — jealous enough to want his bond with MacDonnell back.”

“Maybe so,” Finn said. “I know that I find your bond inspiring.”

It was high praise coming from the quiet Greencloak, and Conor felt a surge of hope too. They pressed on. Then, suddenly, there it was: a curtain of wisteria.

This was in my dream, Conor thought.

He dove for it, pushing the cascade of purple flowers out of the way. Beside him, Briggan snorted and rubbed his nose against the ground, protesting the flowers’ overpowering scent.

The three emerged in a small clearing of trees. There was a stone bench on one side; on the other, the castle’s stone wall. The branches arched overhead, leaving only a tiny circle of the darkening sky visible.

Finn made an uncertain noise. “The horse’s partner died,” he reminded Conor. “He had no choice but to go on alone. The hare knows MacDonnell is still alive — what makes you think he misses the bond so much?”

Conor took a deep breath before stepping toward the castle wall. He extended a hand to a rosebush planted alongside the stone.

“Because,” he said. “Do you know what’s on the other side of this wall?”

“I don’t,” Finn admitted, voice cautious.

“It’s MacDonnell’s bedroom,” Conor said. Careful to avoid the thorns, he brushed the rosebush to one side.

With a soft whine, Briggan lay down. Finn sucked in a sharp breath. In the dark, two tiny, beetle-colored eyes shone, peering up at Conor. The hare had clearly been sleeping, curled up in a ball in the soft dirt. He looked surprised to see someone, much less someone so clearly looking for him.

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