“Nightshade Island was erased from the maps of Erdas after the last war,” Tarik said.
“So . . . no,” Rollan answered himself.
“Which means we need a little help,” Tarik said. “Perhaps from someone with extremely sharp eyesight who can fly?” Meilin felt the canoe rock as he poked Rollan with his foot.
“Oh, you mean my very agreeable spirit animal,” Rollan said. “Right, that’s definitely going to work.” But he held up his arm and looked at the sky hopefully.
Meilin touched the panda tattoo on her own arm, wishing Jhi could do something to help.
With a flutter of wings, Essix descended and settled on the side of the canoe. In the bright moonlight, her feathers looked silver and black. Her sharp talons curled around the wood and she tilted her head at Rollan.
“We need your help,” Rollan said. “We’re, uh — we’re looking for an island.”
Essix shifted her gaze to Tarik. If she’d had eyebrows, Meilin guessed her expression would have been priceless.
“I know, I know,” Rollan said. “There’s a hundred to choose from, ha ha ha. But we’re looking for a specific one — Nightshade Island.”
The falcon let out a shriek that nearly blasted out Meilin’s eardrums. The bird’s feathers all ruffled up around her neck, she glared at Rollan as if he’d suggested something even worse than a return trip to Arctica.
“Ow,” Rollan protested, rubbing his ears. “What’s the matter with you? You know this place?”
Essix shrieked again and shuffled over to jab at Rollan’s knee with her wickedly hooked beak.
“OW!” Rollan yelled. “Tarik, a little help? Why is she so mad?”
“Rumor has it that something dark happened on Nightshade Island during the last war,” Tarik said thoughtfully. “Maybe Essix knows what it was. Maybe she was there. Or maybe she only knows it’s a bad place.” He stopped paddling and reached up to pat Lumeo. “I hope we’re not making a grave mistake, going there.”
Essix let out another bloodcurdling shriek.
“Yes, all right, we know what you think,” Rollan grumbled. “Can you lead us there anyway?” He paused, then added, “Please?”
“Essix, it’s the only way we’ll get to see Mulop,” Meilin chimed in. “We need his talisman if we’re going to stop the Devourer. So we have to go to Nightshade Island to find the white conch, no matter how dangerous it is.”
The falcon clacked her beak several times as if annoyed. Abruptly she lifted into the air and soared ahead of them, veering northeast.
“Hmm. I don’t know if that’s a ‘yes’ or a ‘go eat worms,’” Rollan admitted.
“So we follow her,” Meilin said, “and we just have to hope she’s taking us to the island, right?”
Tarik didn’t answer, but he steered the canoe in the direction Essix had gone. They all paddled silently after the falcon.
Meilin was usually excellent at keeping track of time. She could make herself wake up at sunrise; she could calculate in her head the minutes it would take to do any task. Even with all the traveling they’d been doing lately, she was still usually quite certain when it was time for the night to be over and the sun to be up.
And right now the answer was: at least two hours ago.
She set the paddle carefully across the canoe in front of her and rubbed her eyes. Why was it still so dark? Yes, she could tell they were surrounded by a thick fog, but even so, it should have gotten a little bit lighter once it was morning. But the water was blacker than ever, the moon and stars blotted out by the rolling murkiness around them. When she twisted around, she could barely see Rollan, sitting in the middle of the canoe only a few feet behind her. Beyond him, Tarik was a lump of darkness.
Meilin wished there was space in the canoe to release Jhi. She could really use some heightened senses right about now.
Up ahead, they heard the screeching call of the falcon again. They hadn’t seen her in hours; they were just trying to follow the sound of her voice.
Tarik adjusted the direction of the canoe and spoke quietly. “I know, Meilin. Something’s wrong. Lumeo can feel it too.”
“Maybe we should go back,” Rollan suggested.
“I’m not sure we can,” Tarik said. “I suspect we’ve been paddling in circles for a while; I have no idea which way is out or back. I’m not even sure we’re really hearing Essix anymore. My guess is that this island really doesn’t want to be found.”
A dozen paper-thin spiders seemed to be scuttling down Meilin’s spine; she shivered and felt for her sword hilt again. What kind of place could magically repel visitors? Where did this fog come from?
“On the plus side,” she said, “that probably means we’re close. Right?”
“Essix!” Rollan suddenly shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth. “ESSIX! Come back!” His voice faded into the clouds that surrounded them, absorbed like ink marks on wet paper.
There was no response, no answering screech or flurry of wingbeats. They waited in silence for a long moment.
“Where is she?” Rollan asked. “ESSIX! What do you mean, we weren’t really hearing her? What have we been hearing — and what happened to Essix? And why didn’t you say anything sooner?”
“I wasn’t sure,” Tarik said. “I’m still not sure. But I think the fog is playing tricks on us.”
Meilin leaned back and put a reassuring hand on Rollan’s knee. “I’m sure Essix is all right. Probably better off than we are. She’s smart and resourceful and tough, remember? I bet she’s in the sunshine somewhere, eating a lizard and thinking we’re all idiots for not having found her yet.”
Rollan didn’t say anything, but after a moment, she felt his fingers twine around hers. It was comforting, how large and warm his hands were. Like leaning into a furry, solid panda.
They sat like that for a minute, holding hands while the boat drifted. Tarik had stopped paddling as well and seemed to be listening.
“Do either of you hear that?” he whispered.
“What?” Rollan whispered back; Meilin just tilted her head and concentrated.
A soft whooshing sound echoed somewhere nearby . . . in and out, in and out . . . like armies on the move.
“Waves breaking on shore,” said Meilin. She listened for a moment longer, then pointed. “That way.”
Tarik wordlessly turned the canoe, and they paddled with new energy.
Meilin still couldn’t see anything but billowing fog when she heard sand crunching under the bottom of the boat. She leaned over and jabbed her paddle into what turned out to be solid land.
“We’ve hit a beach, I think,” she said. Cautiously she stepped out of the canoe and edged forward. The sand under her sloped up out of the water. For a moment, the fog cleared just a little, and she saw a beach of black sand, studded with broken shells that looked like shards of bone.
Maybe that’s what they are. Who knows what horrible thing happened here — maybe a terrible battle.
There was no doubt in her mind that this was Nightshade Island. The weight of something evil hunkered over the whole place. If the word tapu hadn’t already existed, Meilin thought someone would have invented it just to describe this island. Dangerous and forbidden — a place no one should ever go, or touch, or even speak of.
We definitely shouldn’t be here.
But we have no choice.
She grabbed the front of the canoe and dragged it up on the sand; Rollan and Tarik jumped out to help her. They carried it as far from the water as they could. None of them were sure if it was high tide or low tide at the moment, or what that meant on this island, but they didn’t want to risk the possibility of waves coming in and carrying off their only way out of here.
As soon as the canoe was secure, with a few large rocks piled around it to anchor it into the sand, Meilin held out her arm and released Jhi.
/> The panda stood beside her for a long moment, staring around at the fog. Slowly she sat down and gave Meilin a troubled look. Her silver eyes gleamed and her giant paws left deep indentations in the black sand.
And yet, it almost seemed like she wasn’t there at all. Meilin could see her, but the usual waves of serenity and strength that came with the panda’s appearance were missing. Meilin hadn’t quite realized how strong their connection was until she couldn’t feel it, and now it was like one of her senses was missing.
“Jhi?” she said softly, holding out her hand.
The panda pressed her nose into Meilin’s fingers, but even that didn’t help. It still seemed like a ghost was standing in front of her, even though it was a ghost with fur that she could touch.
“Is everything all right?” Rollan asked.
Meilin shook her head. She could tell that Jhi didn’t want to be here either, the same way Essix had resisted. She had a feeling Jhi knew exactly what terrible thing had happened here. But the panda would still help her; it was muffled, but Meilin could still feel something, a kind of sense of direction. The vortex of the evil or the magic or the disruption, whatever had happened here, seemed to be at the center of the island. She let go of Jhi and strode ahead of the others, heading for the interior of the island.
As they moved farther inland, the black sand turned into a pebbly stretch of jagged black rocks. The sharp edges dug into the bottom of Meilin’s boots. It was hard to travel in a straight line, with ankle-turning crevices lurking everywhere underfoot.
After a minute, she felt Rollan’s hand brush against hers and their fingers intertwined again. In the misty gloom, he felt like an anchor to the real world, even more real than Jhi. Like all the rest of her might drift away, but her hand would still be there, safely wrapped in his.
It was a little weird if she thought about it, and a little weird that she liked it, and a little weird to think about Rollan at all when she needed to focus on finding the white conch and getting out of here. She wished she could think of something sharp and teasing to say that would make everything feel normal again. But none of them seemed to feel like talking; it was as though the air was too heavy for speech.
A huge, gnarled shape loomed suddenly in front of them, and Meilin jumped back, her free hand grabbing for her sword.
“It’s a tree,” Rollan whispered. He paused, then made the effort to add, “But I bet you can still defeat it. Just glare at it for a minute. Yeah, like that.” He managed a grin, and she felt herself smiling back.
“It’s already dead,” Tarik said, walking around the tree. He touched it lightly with one hand. “It feels petrified. Like stone. What could have done this?”
Meilin ran her fingers along the smooth, cold bark. Tarik was right. It felt like a statue. A statue of a tree that had been blasted by lightning, or something worse.
“Whoa,” Rollan said under his breath, squeezing Meilin’s hand. She turned and saw more shapes through the fog — more petrified trees, all of them twisted and knotted, pale and bent.
Something moved on one of the branches.
Meilin had her knife out in a heartbeat, ready to throw, and realized in the nick of time that the something was Essix.
“Essix!” Rollan yelled, letting go of Meilin and running forward.
The falcon turned her head slowly and looked at him with vast disinterest.
“You’re all right.” Rollan leaned against the tree where Essix was perched. “I couldn’t feel you at all.” The falcon didn’t move. “Essix?” He turned to Tarik. “I still can’t — I mean, it’s like she’s barely there at all. Barely here.” He touched his chest.
“It’s the island,” Meilin said. “Even Jhi — it’s like she’s behind glass.” She found Jhi beside her and ran her hand over the panda’s soft black ears.
“This place is affecting our spirit animal bonds,” Tarik said, sounding wretched. He held Lumeo gently in his hands, but the otter was gazing almost blankly out at the fog. Meilin had never seen the little animal so passive and limp before.
“Essix?” Rollan said, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders. “Are you all right?”
“I’m going to put Lumeo into dormant state while we’re here,” Tarik said. “I think it’ll be safer for him . . . for us. I recommend you both do the same.” The otter curled toward Tarik and then vanished.
Meilin shook her head. “It’s all right. I can still control Jhi. And I need the extra alertness, or else I might fall asleep on my feet.” She noticed that Tarik and Rollan were frowning. “What?”
“You shouldn’t think of it as controlling her,” Tarik said.
“Yeah,” Rollan agreed. “Your spirit animal is more like a partner, right, Tarik?”
“Says the last one of us to get his animal into dormant state,” Meilin snapped. “Why would I take any advice from you? Jhi and I have a much better relationship than you and Essix.” She put one arm over the panda’s furry back.
“Hey,” Rollan said. “That’s just mean.”
Meilin knew, with a pang of regret, that she had been hurtful. But she didn’t need anyone telling her how to interact with her own spirit animal. Jhi was fine.
“Let’s all calm down,” Tarik interjected. “The island is going to affect us all badly. We should find the conch so we can get out of here as soon as possible.”
Rollan looked up at Essix. Hesitantly, he opened his shirt and waited. Meilin could tell that he wasn’t at all sure the falcon would go into passive state. She didn’t seem inclined to acknowledge him at all.
Essix stared up at the sky for a long moment. Finally she clacked her beak twice, spread her wings, and vanished into the tattoo on Rollan’s chest.
Rollan exhaled with relief.
“I think it’s this way somewhere,” Meilin said, walking past the trees. “It feels — darker in this direction.” She glanced back at the others, who nodded and followed her.
What had happened here? What could be so bad that it left echoes of evil lingering so long after the last great war?
More trees twisted out of the fog all around them as they walked. They trekked for a long time, through a landscape that didn’t seem to change very much. It was a bit like their endless night of paddling. Meilin’s eyes were heavy and her feet dragged. She wished she could sleep, but she couldn’t imagine letting her guard down enough to do that in a place like this.
The fog wound creepily around her legs, gray now instead of completely black. Maybe there was still a sun out there after all, far beyond this horrible place. Meilin could only see a few paces in front of her.
She realized she couldn’t hear or sense Jhi behind her. But she knew the panda had to be there. She had to be. She was always there.
Meilin stopped and looked back. Nothing: She couldn’t see Tarik or Rollan either. But they must be right behind her. If she just waited for a moment, they would step into sight. And then Jhi would come ambling up behind them.
It wasn’t possible to lose your spirit animal. Not even in a place like this. Right?
Maybe she should have listened to Tarik.
She remembered Lord MacDonnell’s hare, who’d left him after the lord treated him poorly. And Finn’s wildcat, who had entered passive state and refused to come out for a long time.
What would she do if Jhi didn’t wander out of the fog?
Tarik and Rollan appeared, walking side by side. They leaned toward each other a little, looking almost like father and son with their matching dark hair and tan skin. Meilin felt a twist of sadness again. Why did everything have to remind her of her father?
They saw her waiting and stopped too.
“Looking for Jhi?” Tarik asked softly.
Meilin nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
Silence fell. Nothing emerged from the fog. There were no sounds o
f footfalls on the rocks, no flash of black-and-white fur through the mist.
No Jhi.
Meilin pulled her cloak closer, shivering in the damp, eerie air.
The panda would come. She had to come.
More long moments passed. Rollan sidled up beside her, and when she didn’t protest, he put one arm around her.
“She’ll be here in a minute,” he whispered.
Meilin nodded again.
And waited.
CONOR WOULD GIVE SUNLIGHT ISLAND ONE THING: IT WAS definitely sunny.
Too sunny. Bright and cheerful and glorious. Palm trees swayed against an azure blue sky; the brilliant white seagulls overhead were nearly as dazzling as mirrors in the blazing light.
It seemed like entirely the wrong place for the forces of the Devourer to be gathered, and yet, there they were — long ships anchored in the bay, men and women swarming between the beach and the jungle with boxes of supplies and weaponry. And, everywhere, animals: hideous, gargantuan, vicious-looking animals.
Snarling tigers paced beside sniggering hyenas on the sand. A wild-eyed baboon shrieked and gibbered at a pair of large-eared caracals, while a scaly anteater scraped at a tree nearby. Three vultures were perched on ship masts, eyeing the people below with what looked like grim patience. And there were more snakes and giant spiders and species of crocodile crawling around than Conor wanted to think about.
Moreover, all this sunshine made it nearly impossible to hide, or move, or do anything stealthy at all. Conor, Abeke, and Kalani had spent most of the day lying in a shallow hole, covered with palm fronds. They could peek out and see the center of the Conquerors’ operations, but hopefully nobody would notice them. They were waiting for it to get dark.
Although even then, there could be eyes everywhere — owls, and bats, and other night predators working for the Devourer.
He hoped their canoe would be safe where they’d hidden it.
Conor wished he could release Briggan. He’d feel much better with his wolf lying alongside him. In the green light that filtered through the palm fronds, he’d noticed Abeke’s fingers twitching as if she wanted to be running them through Uraza’s fur. The only one who was completely calm was Kalani. She’d wrapped her feather cloak around her and fallen asleep close to midday. Strands of hair had fallen out of her long dark braid and spilled over the jade green swirls of tattoos on her arms and shoulders.