Spirit Animals: The Evertree Part 13

Shane slipped from bed and pulled his damp nightclothes over his head. He took a fresh tunic and trousers from his wardrobe a wooden antique from which he'd removed the doors. That way it was one less hiding place for him to fear. And besides, Shane's uncle had use for any wood he could get his hands on.

As he dressed, Shane remembered a time in his childhood when a servant would wake him, bathe him, dress him. But nearly all the servants were gone now. And it was just as well there was no money with which to pay them, little food with which to feed them.

Shane knew very little about the lands outside of Stetriol, but he suspected he was the poorest prince in the world.

He walked the long hallway that led to the dining hall, trailing his finger along the stone wall and tapestries, leaving a line in the dust. The tapestries showed legendary scenes of Stetriol's ancient past. On one, torrents of water flowed from the mouth of a frog, creating all the lakes and rivers. Another showed two lizards painting patterns on each other, one with a fine brush and an eye for detail, the other without care.

Shane knew of other tapestries forgotten tapestries that still hung from the rafters in a dark and disused corner of the castle. Those artworks celebrated other animals entirely: formidable birds of prey, and huge, vicious cats, and an octopus with startlingly intelligent eyes. But the Great Beasts had cursed Stetriol. They were better forgotten.

Lost in thought, Shane jolted with surprise when he rounded a corner and saw a cloaked figure standing before him. He hoped she hadn't seen him flinch, but it was hard to sneak anything past his tutor.

"Yumaris," he said, nodding his head in greeting.

"My prince," she said, lowering her own head in a sort of bow. Shane imagined if she attempted to lower herself any more than that, she might never manage to get up again. She clutched her staff as if without it her heavy robes might drag her to the floor.

He wasn't sure exactly how old she was, but during her history lessons it was easy to imagine that she spoke from personal experience. The oddest thing about her, though, was that she sometimes spoke of the future as if it were history too.

Shane watched curiously as the woman produced a sheathed sword from the folds of her robes. It was the saber he had been training with lately, at his uncle's insistence. "You will be glad to have this blade," she said, holding it out to him.

He wasn't so sure, but he took the sword and affixed it to his belt. "You're my tutor, Yumaris. Aren't you supposed to favor the pen?"

"A prince must have many tools in his a.r.s.enal," Yumaris answered, a faraway look in her eyes. "For words and learning do little to impress a jackal."

Shane tightened his belt and gave his tutor a questioning look. "There are no jackals in Stetriol."

Yumaris shrugged. "A figure of speech, my prince. Now, I fear you have more pressing business this morning than breakfast."

Shane sighed. "What is Gar up to this time?"

Copyright 2015 by Scholastic Inc.

All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SPIRIT ANIMALS, and a.s.sociated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014957423.

Map ill.u.s.tration by Michael Walton.

First edition, April 2015.

e-ISBN 978-0-545-53522-9.

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