Spirit Animals Book 2: Hunted by Stiefvater Maggie

Author:Stiefvater, Maggie [Stiefvater, Maggie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2014-01-07T00:00:00+00:00

9: Escape

“WELL, THIS IS BRILLIANT,” ROLLAN SAID. “EVERYTHING I imagined our second mission would be.”

Their captors had taken all their things and thrown them in a stall in the Howling House, fifteen feet wide and fifteen feet long, with bars and fine wire over a single, tiny window high up on the wall. The stone floor was covered with claw marks. Deep ones. Some of them were at the edges, like an animal had tried to dig itself out. But some of them were randomly gouged into the middle of the wall. Like the animal was just angry. Or crazy.

Conor was halfway to crazy himself after being in the stall for only an hour. He didn’t do well being contained. All he could think about was how wrong Trunswick seemed, and how he didn’t know if his mother was trapped here — or even if she was still alive. He couldn’t be sure of anything in a world where he was thrown into prison on sight.

Rollan lolled on the opposite wall, scruffy and indolent, picking his teeth with a piece of straw. He looked rather at home here in prison. But Conor was beginning to realize that Rollan worked very hard on looking at home anywhere.

“I just don’t understand how Devin has a spirit animal,” Conor said. “I was there, Rollan. I saw him at the Nectar Ceremony. There was no trick.”

Rollan mused, “Did you see how tight he and the spirit animal were? They were the best of friends. It did just what he asked. I mean, why would it do that? Clearly it’s not because of Devin’s dazzling personality.”

In between this line of thinking and remembering the encounter with the Trunswicks earlier, Conor suddenly felt awfully tired . . . and an awful lot like a shepherd’s son. “Look, Rollan. I’m sorry. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.”

The other boy wordlessly lifted an eyebrow.

“It wasn’t that it was ever home,” Conor confessed. “Home was the fields. But . . . it was different, at least, before. My mother sent me a letter and said she was working here now that I was gone, and that things weren’t going so well. I just wanted to see her, see how bad things were. And I thought it would make her proud to see . . .”

He trailed off. He didn’t want to think about where his mother might be. His heart felt as low as it could go.

“We all make mistakes,” Rollan said. “For instance, that laundry I ate last night. That was a mistake. I can still taste it.”

Conor sighed. At least he had apologized. It didn’t make him feel much better, though. He knew only weakness had brought him here. Why in the world would someone like him have summoned Briggan? What a waste.

“You’re driving me crazy with the pacing,” Rollan said. He frowned. “Did you just hear something?”

Conor listened. He heard the sounds of animals moving in the stall next door, and night birds cooing outside, and the sound of his own breathing.

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