The Book of Shane Page 9

And she seemed to take a twisted pleasure in stumping him.

  “What separates man from beast?” she asked him, out of nowhere, while he was trying to concentrate on a sheet of math problems.

  He gave her a blank look.

  “What distinguishes a human from an animal?” she asked. “What makes us different?”

  Shane sighed and put down his pencil. When Yumaris veered down a path, he had no choice but to follow … however much he wanted to stand up, knock her aside, and run from the dark, musty room into the springtime outside.

  “Restraint?” he guessed.

  She gestured with her hand for him to say more.

  “When an animal wants to do something, it does it.” He imagined tearing the curtains down on his way out the door, hurling them into a fire. “But humans worry about … good behavior. About following the rules.”

  Yumaris shook her head. “Does the crocodile who waits hours for the right opportunity to strike not show restraint?” she asked. “Does the pack of wolves showing deference to their alpha male not display respect for the rules of their little society? Try again.”

  Shane huffed. He thought about animals, and his mind went to his sister’s monstrous spider. Every day Magda swept the creature’s webs away from the corners of the castle, and every day the spider rewove them, seemingly unbothered.

  “Humans can learn. We learn and grow and change in ways an animal can’t.”

  “Hmm,” Yumaris said, tapping her wrinkled chin with one gnarled finger. “I suppose we had best tell your father’s hound master that he wastes his time training dogs to hunt and heel, since it seems they will never learn from him. And the falconer, and the stablemen …”

  “All right,” Shane said, fully annoyed. “I yield. What is the answer you’re looking for?”

  Yumaris smiled, showing her crooked yellow teeth. “Tools.”

  Shane mimicked her hand gesture from before, inviting her to expand upon her answer.

  “A bird may build a nest, but it will never do so with hammer or hatchet or saw. Ape may fight ape for territory, but they will never do so with weapons forged of iron.”

  “Lucky for the apes,” Shane said.

  “Well,” said Yumaris, “I suppose that’s a matter of perspective.” And then she went silent and paced about the room. Shane assumed she meant for him to return to his math assignment. But just as he’d taken up his pencil, Yumaris spoke again.

  “What separates king from commoner?”

  Shane sensed a trick question. There were too many ways to answer. Did Yumaris expect him to show humility? Pride?

  In the end he merely shrugged.

  “A castle is not built by a king,” Yumaris said. “Oh, he has hammers and hatchets aplenty. But he also has men and women to toil with them on his behalf. Likewise, a war is not fought by a king. It is fought by the king’s subjects, who act as his shield and his sword.” She smiled once more. “The answer is: tools. A king has better tools.” Her smile deepened. “Some of them are people.”

  The inns were packed while the festival was in full swing, but Shane found a ramshackle tavern with a room full of cots in the back. He traded his fancy belt buckle for a cot for the night and a bowl of stew he had little appetite for. The luxuries of his childhood seemed very far away. The castle in Stetriol had never seemed opulent. It was dusty and drafty and full of aging, threadbare furniture. But he’d always had a bed, and clean clothes, and a hot meal any time he wanted. If this year of war had taught him anything, it was how much he’d taken for granted as a prince.

  He hardly slept for all the snoring and the movement of people coming and going throughout the night. The shuttered window did little to block out the sounds of celebration, and Shane’s mind raced with all the possibilities the next day might bring. Before he knew it, it was dawn.

  The streets were still not empty, with pockets of revelers clustered in loud groups. Trash was everywhere. This is what people do with their freedom, thought Shane. While Zhong is in ruins, the people of Amaya cheer their own good fortune.

  But then, here he was, with no idea how the people of Stetriol fared without him.

  Anya met him right where she’d promised, on the outskirts of town, dressed in green fabric and brown leather. She had a bow and a quiver full of arrows, and flasks of water hung from her backpack. It made Shane realize just how unprepared he was.

  “After you,” he said.

  The town was not built right at the edge of the jungle. An acre of farmland stood between them and the wall of trees in the distance.

  “This is the easy part of our journey,” Anya said after a stretch of silence. “The jungle terrain is more difficult and far more dangerous.”

  “Is it very different from the forests of Nilo? I’ve spent some time there.”

  Anya had a very expressive face, and she made a show of her surprise at this news. “You have been to Nilo? I would like to see it. But as I understand it, our woodlands are different. There, the people live within the forest. They are able to build there, and find food, and live … if not in harmony with nature, then in a state of truce.”

  Shane nodded, remembering the burned-out village where he’d attempted to stay the night. It had been overrun with vicious hyenas — but only after soldiers had wrecked it.

  “Our jungle is not a peaceful place,” Anya warned. “The snakes are venomous. The fish have teeth to rival the jaguars’.” She smiled grimly at him as they approached the tree line. “Even the frogs can kill a person. Here, everything is out to get you.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Shane said glumly. “And if I feel the need to pet anything, I’ll check with you first.”

  Anya’s laugh tinkled as she pulled a machete from her bag and set to hacking away the first of the vines. She quickly disappeared into the shrouded twilight beneath the trees, and Shane took a deep breath and plunged in after her.

  The heat was far worse than it had been in Nilo. The air was so thick that Shane imagined he could hack at it with Anya’s machete, and the blade would come away warm and wet. But they had plenty of water, and fruit and dried meats, and it was an altogether less harrowing experience than his trek across Nilo had been.

  After about an hour, Shane asked, “Are there any structures out here? Old forts?”

  Anya wiped at her brow. “Several old temples. There is one nearby. Long abandoned. I have only seen it once — people think it’s cursed.”

  “That’s where we want to go.”

  “Truly?” Anya kept hacking at vines as she spoke. “I thought you wished to see a bushmaster snake. They are most common somewhat south of there.”

  “The woman I’m tracking is clever. ‘Bushmaster’ is a code. And it leads to that jungle temple.”

  “Does she wish to be found?”

  Shane huffed out a breath. “She won’t be happy when I find her. Let’s put it that way.”

  “Then why would she leave you such a hint?”

  “I told you: She’s clever. She thinks we’re all dancing to her tune.” He tapped the hilt of his sheathed saber. “I’m betting I have a move or two that will surprise her.”

  Anya paused as if she wanted to say more, but only bit her lip and nodded as she resumed hacking away. “It is not far,” she said after a moment. “I will take you to the temple, but no farther.”

  They continued for a while in silence. Shane took a turn with the machete, and his arm quickly began to ache. It was a far different tool than his saber, which was lighter and felt more like an extension of his arm. He kept his eyes peeled for animals, but though he heard many birds and beasts, all he saw was the occasional bug.

  “What do I do if I see a frog?” he asked. “Will they actually attack a person?”

  Anya’s tinkling laugh rang out again. “No, no. Here, let me have this.” She took the machete from him and reclaimed her spot in the lead. “A snake is venomous. Yes? It will bite you and inject its poison directly into your blood.”

  S
hane shuddered. “Right.”

  “These jungle frogs are not venomous, but poisonous. They have no way to break your skin and put their toxin inside you.” Anya cast a glance back at him. “Do not put one in your mouth, and you will be fine.”

  Shane chuckled at that. “I suppose I’ll be fine, then.”

  “Do you know how they become poisonous?” she asked. “They are not born this way. As little tadpoles, their mother lays eggs for them to eat. But because the mother is poisonous, the eggs are poisonous, too. The tadpoles eat just a little poison at a time, and it builds up slowly, so that it does not hurt them. But by the time they are frogs, they are deadly to any bird or snake that would eat them. The bright colors are a warning to predators: I am dangerous, and I taste bad. Stay away.”

  “Sort of like a Greencloak,” Shane said under his breath.

  “Pardon?” she asked.

  “Nothing. It’s a private —”

  Just then a great roar rang out from nearby. It turned the sweat running down Shane’s back to ice. More worrying to him, it seemed to have the same effect on Anya.

  “What was that?” she said, standing suddenly still.

  “You don’t know?” he hissed. “You’re the guide!”

  She backed away from the direction from which the sound had come and held her machete up. “That is not a cat nor a monkey. That’s a sound that doesn’t belong in the jungle.”

  Shane drew his own blade. “How far to the temple?”

  Anya inclined her head to one side. “It is that way. Only a few minutes’ walk.”

  “I suggest we run,” Shane said. Anya nodded, then took off through the trees, ducking her head low and keeping the machete at her side.

  Something big was following, crashing through the underbrush. Shane hoped the branches and vines would slow the thing down, but when he risked a glance over his shoulder, he saw it closing in on them.

  It was a bear. A massive bear, so big he could have believed it was Suka herself. But Suka was dead, and this bear’s matted coat was the color of chocolate, which only made its yellowish-white bladelike teeth more noticeable.

  “It’s a bear!” he cried to Anya.

  “Impossible!” she answered without looking back. “We don’t have bears here.”

  “Tell that to the bear!”

  Shane felt heat at the back of his neck, and he didn’t know if it was from his own exertion or if the animal was breathing on him, close enough now to swipe him to the ground with its massive clawed paw. He pushed himself harder, desperate to get away, fearful that any step might be his last.

  And then he heard an unfamiliar voice shouting, “This way!”

  An arrow passed overhead, then another, and Shane saw they had been fired from a clearing ahead, from which he could hear shouts of encouragement. Anya launched herself from the tree line, and he followed on her heels, crashing into the clearing, which was dominated by a massive pyramidal structure of yellowish stone, overrun with vines. There were men in the clearing, too. Two archers trained their bows on the jungle at his back, and a third man stood at an open doorway at the base of the pyramid, waving them forward urgently.

  “Go, go, go, go!” he shouted. Shane heard in his voice that the man was a soldier.

  Anya didn’t hesitate, and he didn’t either. They ran full tilt into the doorway, and the three soldiers followed, one of them keeping his bow taut and aimed outside while the other two heaved the large stone door closed behind them.

  It took a full minute for them to regain their breath. Shane dropped his head between his knees and gulped hungrily at the air. The archers had disappeared, but the man who’d held the door for them stood by patiently, leaning against the stone wall of the short hallway they’d entered. The hallway itself was unlit, but light came from the temple’s interior.

  When he’d regained his composure, Shane turned to the man, who wore the black leathers of a Conqueror. “Thank you,” he said. “We were in real trouble there.”

  Recognition flashed in the man’s eyes, but he quickly masked it. The Conquerors had been told that Shane’s identity as the Reptile King must be kept a secret. Outside of Stetriol, they were supposed to pretend he was no more than their commander’s nephew.

  “You’re the captain?” Shane asked.

  “Captain Lovvorn. Yes.” He seemed stuck halfway between a bow and a salute, unsure how to address his flushed and bedraggled king. “Can I … get you anything?”

  “Information,” Shane answered. “What is going on here? Are you under attack?”

  “Under attack?” Anya huffed, her breath slow to return to her.

  “That bear has to be a spirit animal,” Shane explained.

  “Yes,” said the captain. “And, er, no. Please, follow me inside and I’ll explain.” The captain led them down the short hallway, which ended in a large central space, a stone room at the heart of the pyramid. Its walls sloped inward as they reached up, but rather than coming to a point, they ended high above in a square-shaped opening, like a window over their heads. The opening was small, but midday sunlight poured into the space, where six other soldiers loitered about, stopping mid-conversation to watch the newcomers. One of them had a thick, bloody bandage on his thigh. Another had scabbed slash marks across his face, and a third looked like he was wasting away, a haunted look in his heavy-lidded eyes. They were all dirty, and where their flesh was visible through the muck, it was slick with sweat.

  “What in Erdas happened here?” Shane asked.

  “Our spirit animals have gone mad,” the captain said. “That beast you encountered was Soyland’s.” He inclined his head toward one of the archers. “Most of them were content to slither or scamper away when the … after everything, but not that monster of a bear. She’s a mean old thing. I didn’t think animals held grudges.”

  “We’ve been trapped here for weeks,” Soyland added. “She won’t listen to me. I’ve tried. I don’t understand what went wrong.”

  Shane cursed silently. He’d heard of this happening, of course. In the weeks since Gerathon and Kovo’s defeat, Conquerors all over the world had been losing their spirit animals. With the Bile gone, its power to compel was dwindling. It was only a matter of time before everyone who had used it to force a bond would find that their once-doting animal companions had opinions of their own.

  Shane absently touched the spot on his chest where his own spirit animal slept as a tattoo. He hadn’t released Grahv since hearing the news that Bile bonds were fading. How long would it be before the crocodile was freed? Would he seek Shane just as ferociously?

  “What are you doing here to begin with?” asked Anya.

  Captain Lovvorn’s eyes cut toward Shane.

  Shane sighed. “They’re the advance force of an invading army,” he said. “Holed up here while they await orders.”

  “How do you know that?” she asked.

  “Because it’s my orders they’re awaiting.”

  Captain Lovvorn, obviously uncomfortable with the ruse and glad to have it be over, dropped quickly to one knee, and his men began to follow his lead.

  “Enough of that,” Shane said. “Up. I’m not in charge of anybody anymore.”

  The men looked to their captain, perplexed, while an altogether different emotion flashed in Anya’s eyes. “They’re Conquerors.” She drew her machete from her bag. “You’re the Devourer.”

  The men drew their own weapons, aiming them at Anya.

  “Everybody calm down,” Shane said, holding up his hands. “Nobody do anything stupid.”

  “Stupid, like walk into a Conqueror den?”

  “The Conquerors don’t exist anymore,” Shane said. “These are just men. And they’re your best bet at getting out of here alive.”

  “I don’t know about that,” said Anya. “I’m thinking we throw Soyland to the bear and she lets us go.”

  Soyland gulped audibly at Shane’s back.

  “We’re not throwing anyone to the bear.”

&nbs
p; “Then we shoot it. I have poison arrows.”

  “No!” Shane shouted, and his voice echoed in the oddly shaped chamber. “No,” he said more calmly. “The bear was a victim in all this. Poisoning her isn’t right.”

  After a moment of silence, the captain shrugged. “Wouldn’t be easy, anyway. We’ve had archers up top for weeks. She doesn’t show herself till one of us is outside the walls, and even then she stays safely within the foliage.”

  Shane sucked air through his teeth. “Unbelievable. I walked right into her trap.”

  “The bear’s?” Anya asked.

  “No, the woman’s. Yumaris led me here.” He rubbed his temples. “ ‘Bushmaster’ was what we called this operation. We — We named them all after snakes.”

  “She led you here,” Anya repeated. “So that a confused and angry bear could maul you or trap you indoors until the food ran out?” She considered the tip of her machete, then dropped it to her side. “Isn’t that a bit elaborate? There are much easier ways to get rid of someone.”

  Shane blinked. “You’re right. Of course you’re right. Then why … ?”

  The bear’s eerie roar rang out from the jungle beyond the temple’s walls.

  “Captain, I’m going to want to debrief you and your men. One at a time. I want to know everything that’s happened here. Everything you’ve seen. Anya.” He turned to her. “I want you with the other archers up on the wall tonight. My guess is they’re exhausted, and a fresh set of eyes will do wonders.”

  Anya huffed. “So much for not being in charge of anybody.”

  “It’s just a suggestion.”

  She looked at him appraisingly. “It’s a good one. So I’ll do what you say. For now. But when this is over, I’m going home. And you and your pet soldiers better go right back to Stetriol.”

  “Sounds good to me,” said Shane, but he had a strong feeling it wouldn’t be nearly so simple.

  As night fell, they built a cooking fire on one side of the stone chamber. The evening was warm, but the fire brought light and the smell of cooking beans, and it was welcome.

  Shane sat down away from the firelight, but not so far that he couldn’t cross the distance quickly if danger found them. Had they been under siege by a bird of prey instead of a bear, they would be in trouble, as their fortress stood open and indefensible against the night sky. The stars shone bright and unobstructed.