Conor was really doing his best to be a good partner with Briggan. Sometimes it was easy. He'd grown up with Sheepdogs, and Briggan could be quite doglike. He liked for Conor to toss clumps of sod for him to fetch. He played gleeful tug-of-war with vines. He always let Conor lead, to show that he trusted him to be in charge. But sometimes he was nothing like a dog, and Conor was never sure if this was because he was acting more like a wolf specifically or acting more like a Great Beast in general. For instance, the family sheepdogs had always been eager to curl up to sleep beside Conor. But Briggan, no matter how cold the night, slept at least a few feet from him. The Sheepdogs had absolutely hated to be stared at, but if Conor caught Briggan's gaze, the wolf held it unblinkingly until Conor became uncomfortable.

"You have staring contests with Briggan?" Rollan asked. "Not staring contests" Conor said "I just stare at him"

And he really did howl at the moon.

"Obviously" Rollan said "He's a wolf"

Conor had spent so many nights being terrified of that sound. Wondering when the wolves would appear. Wondering if he'd be able to keep them from killing any sheep.

"We don't travel with any sheep," Meilin said.

Wondering if he'd be able to keep them from killing him. If he was being honest, he tried so hard with Briggan to hide the fact that he was still a little afraid of him. "Home sweet home, eh?" Rollan asked, shielding his eyes. They had made it to Trunswick.

"Just remember" Rollan said "Devin Trunswick still hates you"

Finally. The others had never made it to the tower, so Rollan and Conor had started across the fields alone. They had walked and walked and walked, jumping at the slightest noise, fearing Conquerors, dangerous animals, or Conquerors with dangerous animals. They had stopped to snatch a few nervous hours of sleep — long enough for Conor to have a fuzzy dream of both Rumfuss and a large, wild-looking hare sleeping in a patch of wisteria — and then walked some more. Now the town rose up above them; the castle stood at the highest point of the hill. Blue-roofed houses made of sandycolored stone crowded below it. Brilliant blue flags and banners flew from nearly every roof, as if the town were waving a frantic greeting to the boys. Conor knew that all the standards would feature Briggan, Eura's patron beast. He felt a warm flood of relief: It had been such a nerveracking journey without either of the older Greencloaks. But now here was familiar old Trunswick. Everything would be all right, surely.

"Surely" Rollan repeated.

"Rollan" Olvan said "It sounds like you are almost trying to spoil this chapter." "What me noo" Rollan said sarcastically. "NO spoilers" Olvan said "Or else"

"So this is Trunswick," Rollan observed. "Where you have fond memories of being sold into servitude by your father?" Conor's cheeks heated. "I wasn't sold." "Loaned, then," Rollan corrected warmly. "Oh, don't look so beaten up over it. My father rudely up and died on me, so I reckon he's the worse parent. Oh, hey. You did say 'a warm welcome,' right?" He pointed toward the town. "Did you mean warm like 'burning'?" A plume of smoke rose from the opposite side of the town. Vaguely uneasy, Conor said, "Sometimes the farmers burn their fields to kill the thistles and heather. Come on, we'll go in a side way." A sandy-colored wall that matched the sandy-colored houses surrounded Trunswick. There were several unguarded gates. The main gate was always crowded, so Conor led them toward the nearly hidden one nearest to the castle. He paused, tipping his head back. Two blue flags flew over the gate, just like before. But unlike before, Briggan's silhouette was missing. In its place was the outline of a bulky black cat.

"Let me guess" Olvan said "Devin Trunswick's spirit animal. What was it? Ella? Edna?" "Elda" Lenori corrected. "Elda"

The change was so absolutely unexpected and so wrong that Conor couldn't immediately process the truth of it. Slowly, he asked Rollan, "Am I awake?" "Is this a trick question?" Conor had grown up under the image of a gray wolf on a blue field. Briggan's iconic image had flown over every state event.

"Sounds like Briggan is old news." Lenori said "They shouldn't replace a Great Beast with a fake spirit animal." "Especially ones that aren't as cool," Rollan said. "How long has Briggan been up there anyways?" "Dunno" Conor said "A long time?"

Every family had a wolf figure on their mantel or a howling wolf carved into the wood above the doorway. Briggan was Eura. But now there was a blue flag with a wildcat flying over the gate. It seemed like it should be a dream. Or a hallucination. Rollan had noticed Conor's goggling at the flag, so Conor stammered, "That's supposed to be Briggan." "What? The cat? Looks a little like Uraza."

"You mean Briggan is supposed to be imprinted on the flag and not Elda" Abeke said

This cat was far more muscled than Abeke's leopard, but Conor saw the resemblance.

"Uraza could totally beat Elda" Abeke said

If he hadn't known any better, he would've thought it was supposed to be the silly wildcat from the children's stories he'd grown up with. Hadn't every child in Eura heard about the hero who would rise up with a black cat? It had been an inspiring sort of myth. But Trunswick didn't need a myth. They had Briggan. He was back. He was real. Before Conor had time to wonder about this out loud, a huge mastiff burst from the other side of the entrance. It bayed, jowls slobbery. The noise rumbled in their feet. Its threatening bark called out a second dog. Conor knew these were no ordinary hounds. The Trunswicks' mastiffs were infamous for their fight-to-the-death training. It wasn't their bite that was deadly, although it was formidable. It was their hold. The mastiffs were trained to find a grip on their victims' throats and not let go until a Trunswick guard gave the order.

"Well that's not frightening" Abeke said

"Brace yourself," Conor warned. "I don't get along with dogs," Rollan muttered, reaching toward the dagger he wore by his side. Briggan's ears pinned and his tail dropped. But the mastiffs merely circled and pushed them forward. This wasn't an attack. It was an escort. "Spirit animals?" Conor asked Rollan. "Slobber animals," Rollan replied, holding his hands out of the way of their drooling mouths. "What's going on? Is this slimy greeting usual?" Before Conor could reply, a guard shouted at them from his post at the gate. "Hey, you!" The mastiffs herded the two boys closer. A few feet away, Conor saw that the guard wore a blue Trunswick surcoat over his chain mail. But, as on the flag, the wolf insignia had been replaced with a black wildcat. Behind him, another three mastiffs emerged. The guard tugged Conor's cloak, rubbing mud off between his thumb and forefinger and revealing the color beneath. "Greencloaks!" The contempt in his voice when he said the word was as shocking as anything else that had happened. "You can come quietly to the prison, or you can make this difficult."

"So that's how you ended up in the Howling House" Meilin said. Then she quickly covered her mouth as Olvan and Lenori gave her the no-spoilers look.

Of all the ways Conor had imagined this day would go, this had not been one of them. Rollan said, "Keep your shirt on, old man. We haven't done anything wrong." Stunned, Conor stammered, "Please. I'm not a stranger. I used to be Devin Trunswick's servant. I — I lived here." How foolish he felt. Just a bumbling shepherd facing these castle guards, unable to explain himself. "Quietly," the guard repeated. A few people had gathered behind him, anticipating drama. "Or difficult?" As he moved toward them, Briggan let loose a rippling snarl. "No, Briggan," Conor said. There were five of the dogs and only one Briggan. Although Briggan was superior in most ways to each dog, if one of the mastiffs got him by the throat, he'd be powerless against the other four.

"Now if there were the Four Fallen there then we might have had a chance" Rollan said eying Abeke and Meilin

"We're not here to fight." He felt Rollan's attention on him, waiting for him to somehow sort this out; this was his hometown after all. But this was no Trunswick Conor knew.

"I blame Zerif" Rollan said "For giving the Bile to Devin in the first place"

Not with that strange animal on the blue flag. Not with this guard, this strangely bloodthirsty crowd, these mastiffs. A familiar voice rang out. "What's the commotion?" Inside the gate, people and animals parted for the newcomer. An animal led the way: a large black cat, waisttall. Its eyes were golden and its pelt was silky, inky black with even blacker spots that showed in the sun. A black panther. As it stalked dangerously down the cobblestones, a boy stepped out behind it. Devin Trunswick. His posture was even haughtier than before.

"Obviously" Rollan said, then he mimicked "because I'm the best because I summoned the Euran myth. And I have always been the best"

His clothing was impeccable. Everything about him shouted that he was a lord's son. Conor felt so foolish for thinking anything might have changed between them because of Briggan. How ridiculous, Conor thought. I'm still a shepherd's son and he's still a noble. We won't ever be equal.

"But" Abeke said "You're a hero"

Devin's eyes found Conor's and held them. He seemed to be thinking the same thing. Devin held out his arm. Without a second's pause, the panther vanished. A tattoo appeared on Devin's arm. Conor inhaled audibly. Impossible. It was absolutely impossible. Conor had been at the Nectar Ceremony where Devin had failed to call up a spirit animal. He had been standing right beside him. Close enough to see the disappointment painted on his mouth.

"Unless you drink the Bile!" Rollan said

His mother hadn't mentioned this in her letter. Conor's pulse fluttered. Where is my mother? "Devin!" he called, trying to cover his surprise. "It's me, Conor."

"That's not going to help the situation" Abeke said. "Devin hates you" Meilin said "Letting him know who you are is going to make it worse"

Devin said, "I know." Then he called to the guards, cool and imperious, "What are you waiting for? Seize them!"

"Told ya." Abeke and Meilin said at the same time

Rollan grabbed Conor's elbow. Together they jumped away. One of the guards snatched at Conor, but he rolled out of the way. Briggan snapped at the mastiffs. They were stronger, but slower. And there was absolutely no reason to engage them: they had no purpose here in Trunswick. Conor knew these streets. If he could get to the smaller alleys, he might be able to lead Rollan and Briggan out of danger. He ran down an alley. Beside him, Briggan jumped on top of crates, his powerful hind legs sending them crashing behind him. Essix coursed overhead, her shadow shrinking and growing as she ducked beneath clotheslines and over jutting roofs. A girl shouted out a window, "Run, Greencloaks!" Conor barely had time to look up before the girl's mother dragged her inside and clapped the window closed. The mother's expression was frightened. Farther ahead, more windows opened. A boy and a girl waved at Conor, and then, just after Conor and Rollan had passed, they tipped buckets of scalding-hot water into the alleyway.

"Ooh" Lenori said "Ouch"

The pursuing guards yelled in pain. Steam curled up the walls. The children were helping Conor and Rollan escape. Conor had no breath to thank them, but he waved and hoped they understood. "I'll remember that!" one of the guards shouted at the windows, his hand clapped over his scalded face. Conor and Rollan left them behind, not slowing. Conor knew that there was a hidden weakness in the wall nearby. If they could just make it there, they could leave Trunswick behind and escape across the moors. But as Conor darted down a side street, a huge lizard — as long as Briggan — suddenly loomed from the darkness. Its face and clawed feet were black, but the rest of its bumpy hide was a checkerboard of orange and black. Everything about it looked poisonous.

"A Gila monster?" Abeke said

It hissed like something out of a nightmare. Conor scrabbled in the other direction. Behind him he heard snarls and cries. He couldn't see Briggan or Rollan. It felt like there were walls and people everywhere — an older girl with a flat frog in her hands, another girl with the giant lizard, and Devin with his leering smile. As he spun, Conor was brought up short by a fourth person: a tall, dark-skinned boy and his spirit animal, a longlegged chestnut bird with a big, stork-like head. The bird was tall enough to look right into his eyes. Possibly it was adrenaline, but the hair on Conor's arms felt charged, like when lightning had struck very close. "I'd suggest giving in," the boy said. "My hammerkop here has a very short temper." "Also," added the girl holding the flat frog, "because we have your spirit animal." The mastiffs had pinned Briggan to the ground. Conor's heart sank when he saw that one of them had bracketed its jaws loosely around Briggan's windpipe. The wolf's eyes flashed, full of rebellion, but he had no choice but to submit. "Also also," Devin said, "we have this one. His cloak seems slightly less green than yours." He pointed to Rollan, who squirmed and thrashed in a guard's hands. Behind them, a tall, handsome man in a richly embroidered cloak watched the proceedings with an approving smile. "Two little piggies," the man said. "And one not-so-big, not-so-bad wolf." Rollan sneered and spat at him. The man seemed unconcerned. If anything, Rollan's rage pleased him. "You had your chance to choose sides, Rollan

We both see you chose poorly." This man knew Rollan? Conor tried to place him. Was he from the castle? A guard?

No. His mind returned to the mountains of Amaya, where Barlow, their ally, their friend, had been slain — stabbed through the back while saving Abeke's life.

"Zerif!" They all shouted

This was Zerif. A Conqueror. We've delivered ourselves to the enemy, Conor thought, cursing himself. All because I wanted to come back here. Why? This isn't home. This place has always been a trap. All because I wanted to return to a place where I'd always been trapped. Now I'm trapped all over again. He couldn't explain to Rollan how sorry he was. The crowd parted for the earl himself. He looked exactly like his son Devin, only he had a pointy, neatly trimmed beard. He surveyed them coldly. "Put them both in the Howling House. We'll decide what to do with them later." To Conor and Rollan he said, "Place your spirit animals in passive form now." "Yeah," Devin agreed. "It'd be too bad if we had to hurt a Great Beast." His nasty smile indicated he didn't think it would be too bad at all. "Wait," Rollan snapped. "What are we being imprisoned for?" "We've done nothing," Conor said. He unsuccessfully searched the earl's face for any trace of compassion. "And you know I'm not a stranger to Trunswick." The earl barely glanced at them. It was obvious he didn't find Rollan or Conor worthy enough to get the full attention he'd give a proper enemy. He said, "The cloak you wear here condemns you, boy. Trunswick has had enough of the Greencloaks' iron rule. We're weary of all their talk of Erdas's destiny." He lifted a lazy hand toward a blue flag bearing the wildcat. "Erdas, indeed. All this talk of our destiny. Trunswick will make its own destiny." Conor protested, "My lord, we only came to —" The earl held up his hand as if he were calming a dog. "Please be quiet. I will no longer tolerate hearing the voices of the likes of you."

"Because I'm a Greencloak and because I stole the spotlight summoning Briggan?" Conor said "or just because I'm a Greencloak

The likes of you. His voice oozed dismissal. It was like a slap. Conor had not been hit, but he felt the same urge to sink to his knees. The same rush of blood to his cheeks. The same thud of his heart in his rib cage. Devin was trying very hard to hide a smile. Zerif nodded approvingly. As if he was so pleased the earl had finally stopped letting those Greencloaks push him around. The earl turned to the guard beside him. "If the boy won't put his animal into passive form, have the dogs kill it and burn the body with the rest." Rollan's eyes widened, his cool facade dropping. Conor wordlessly stretched his hand toward where Briggan was pinned to the ground. The wolf immediately vanished from beneath the mastiffs and appeared on Conor's arm. Rollan, however, had no such success. With a scowl, he called to Essix. But the falcon flew high overhead in ever wider circles.

"Lucky" Rollan mumbled

Every so often the bird looked down so that it was clear she was listening, just not obeying. Devin and the girl with the frog snickered. Zerif yawned. It was a glorious yawn, his hand elegantly covering his mouth and his laugh at once. Behind them, Conor could see Devin's little brother, Dawson, averting his eyes. He'd always been the best one in the family. It was hard to imagine him taking any joy in this horrible scene, but he was too young to help now. "The boy's bond is weak," the earl said. "So the bird's no threat anyway. Just leave it and lock the others up." "Welcome home, shepherd," Devin sneered.

"End of chapter" Rollan said. "You go Olvan." He handed the book over to him.

Chapter Eight. The Howling House