“Any ideas?” Rollan said. Essix swooped down, clawing at the eyes of a few Conquerors, but it wasn’t enough to stop the horde. Briggan was still helping Meilin; Uraza and Abeke were being forced farther and farther into the orchard. Conor gripped his staff; Rollan, his sword.
Suddenly a pile of men were lifted into the air with a chorus of screams — Rumfuss! The boar smashed through them, sending fur and bodies flying. Conor wanted to pause and marvel at his size and strength, but there was no time. He spun forward, bringing the staff down hard on a nearby Conqueror’s head.
Conor turned to see who needed help; there were still so many enemies, at least another half dozen, and mostly the ones with the sizable spirit animals. Meilin leaped from a branch and, midair, released Jhi from passive form. The panda slammed to the ground, butt-first, crushing a woman beneath her, and then in a flash was back to being a tattoo on Meilin’s arm. Finn was by her, fending off a man with a giraffe who used its muscled neck like a battering ram —
Conor suddenly felt the unmistakable pain of teeth slicing into his shoulder. Devin’s black wildcat had leaped on him from behind. Its claws and teeth were tearing into Conor’s skin. He couldn’t stop himself from screaming in pain, and turned in a wide circle, flinging the beast off. Conor grabbed his shoulder, and his hand came away sticky with blood.
“Not so great now, are you?” Devin hissed at him, and stalked forward. He tilted his head toward the wildcat, who raced back to him and threaded herself around his legs. Devin started forward; Conor lifted his staff but winced. He couldn’t hold its weight with his injuries.
“You thought you were so special, didn’t you, Conor? You thought you were better than me. You thought Briggan made you greater. Briggan’s just a shadow of the Great Beast he used to be. Elda, however, is still a legend.”
Conor backed up; strong hands grabbed his shoulders — a Conqueror. The man dug his fingers into Conor’s fresh wound until he shrieked in pain. Briggan, I need you, he thought desperately.
Then he saw the wolf. Briggan was being held down by several Conquerors, one of whom kicked him sharply in the stomach. Briggan yelped loudly, and Conor could feel the noise in his skull.
Seeing this, Devin snorted. “Great Beast? Sure.” He turned back to Conor. “Elda. Take him down.”
Conor closed his eyes, but then immediately opened them again — he was scared, but he wasn’t going to face his death with his eyes shut. Elda yowled, deep, sharp, and rumbling, and sprang forward.
Something else grabbed the wildcat in midair, crushing her to the ground. Something sleek and black, almost like a shadow rather than an animal. It bounded away quickly. Elda didn’t get up, but her chest continued to rise and fall weakly. Devin’s eyes widened and he rushed to her side. With a flash, she disappeared into a tattoo on his arm. The Conqueror holding Conor’s shoulders released him, drawing a knife to fight off whatever this new creature was. But the animal was too fast — it pounced on the man, slashing his neck with what must be massive teeth. Then it shot off toward Meilin and Finn.
Devin was roaring angrily, shouting at the others. Karmo, who had been fighting Abeke, turned to look — just long enough for Rollan to tackle him to the ground and then hold him at swordpoint. Abeke dove for the hammerkop, which narrowly avoided her grasp and flapped for the trees. Conor ran for Briggan and shoved his staff deep into the stomach of the man kicking his wolf. It gave Briggan just enough time to bound to his feet and leap back into action.
The Conquerors were realizing how dangerously low their numbers had fallen — three left, no, two, since Rumfuss had just tossed one over the wall.
The dark shape, still moving too fast for Conor to see clearly, pounced on another man. Finn tossed his blade to Meilin, who held it aloft toward the final Conqueror. The man looked at her, then at the others. He then turned and fled.
“Coward!” Devin screamed. “Come back and fight!”
It was not very wise for Devin to draw attention to himself — Uraza heard him. She bounded across the orchard and pounced, slamming Devin into the ground with her front paws. She bared her teeth at the boy, flexing her claws out so that they pricked Devin’s shoulders.
“Is everyone all right?” Conor finally asked, panting.
“I’m fine,” Abeke said. “Just hold him there, Uraza —”
“Get your stupid cat off me!” Devin barked.
Abeke shook her head. “Never mind, Uraza. You can eat him.”
This shut Devin up, at least for a few moments, while the others called out. Meilin had a bad cut on her arm, and maybe some broken toes. Essix was missing more than a few tail feathers, and it was making her fly all wobbly. Rollan had a black eye, though Karmo, lying on the ground with his palms up in surrender, had two.
They’d survived. Not only survived . . . they’d won. Conor could scarcely believe it.
And Finn — where was he?
“Finn?” Conor called out. “Where’d he go?”
“He was just here!” Meilin said, looking around in a panic.
“I’m fine,” Finn said. His voice was hushed and thick with awe. It took them a few moments to work out where it was coming from. When they did, their jaws dropped in unison.
“Finn!” Abeke finally said. “It’s you!”
Finn smiled, really smiled, his face bright and open. Conor couldn’t remember him ever smiling before. The Greencloak lowered his arm and ran it along the back of a spirit animal — his spirit animal — who stood by his feet. He touched the creature with nervous, shaking hands, like he was very afraid this was just a dream.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Meilin asked wonderously.
“I thought he was gone,” Finn said. “I thought he didn’t want me anymore.” His spirit animal looked up at him, then forced his head into Finn’s hand, nuzzling at him. He was beautiful — ink black, with even blacker spots that glowed in the moonlight.
A black wildcat.
18: Black Wildcat
FINN WAS THE BOY FROM THE NORTH, THE LEGEND DEVIN only pretended to be. Abeke laughed loudly in shock, Meilin stared, and Rollan scoffed and shook his head like he still didn’t quite believe it. Even Rumfuss looked impressed.
“The bond . . . never lost,” Rumfuss said, so wisely that it was hard to think less of him when he dropped his head and ate a mostly rotten apple from the ground.
“Rumfuss,” Conor said. The boar looked up, and Conor dropped his head with respect. “Thank you for fighting with us.”