Sora's Quest (Cat's Eye #1)

by T. L. Shreffler

“Crash!” she screamed.

  The assassin half turned from the door and saw the threat. He twisted to dodge — but wasn't fast enough. The dagger plunged deep into his side a second before Crash’s own knife went through the Catlin’s neck. Sora struggled against Burn's grip, yelling, shocked. The mercenary finally let her go, but they were both stopped by the assassin's voice.

  "Go, you idiots, run!" He staggered and pointed to the trap door. "I'm right behind you. Go!"

  Somehow Sora knew that was a lie, but she ripped her eyes away from Crash and slipped down the trap door anyway, her heart wrenching in two. Burn followed close behind. She gripped her staff tightly and sprinted down the stairs, taking three at a time, her legs shaky with nerves and adrenaline. She focused on running for several minutes, then wiped her eyes, shocked. Was her face wet? She touched one of her cheeks in numb surprise. Tears? I’m crying?

  There was no time to think on that.

  Burn knocked over several torches as he struggled down the passageway behind her. He was far too large for the cramped space. More than once she almost fell in the pitch blackness. About a third of the way and running blindly, she felt a sudden tremor through the tree. The stairs shook behind her and the walls trembled. An earthquake? Then, much to her horror, the surrounding wood creaked, bent, slowly began to close in. Somehow, the passageway was collapsing, growing inward. Dear gods, that’s impossible! Just how strong was Catlin magic?

  “Burn, go in front of me!” she screamed, and squeezed herself against the wall. “I can try to hold the walls with my Cat's Eye, but you need to get out of here first!”

  The mercenary's huge bulk shoved past her. “I'll meet you at the bottom with Dorian!” he shouted, and continued into the darkness. Sora rushed after him and took her Cat's Eye out of her shirt, gripping it in one hand. The walls were now dangerously close. She would never make it out alive unless she could somehow stop the tree. She reached into the back of her mind, searching for the bond with the necklace, and she felt the response immediately. It was unexpectedly easy. Something woke up, yawned, stretched....

  The tingle of sleigh bells erupted in her conscious, and in response there was another, different kind of rumble. Sora felt the walls stop moving. Relief flooded her and made her knees weak. The small stone trembled with the effort. Hold on, she thought, gritting her teeth. The necklace began to draw strength from her own energy; she could feel her muscles weaken, her weariness begin to grow. Forcing each step, she jumped the last few stairs and practically flew through the small chamber at the base of the tree. With a fantastic leap she sailed out of the open door and onto the raft, slamming into a body. The two tumbled over, and she heard Dorian cry out in surprise — a wonderfully reassuring sound. Good, they were both safe.

  But it wasn't over yet. Sora gasped as sudden light flashed before her eyes, snatching her attention away from the bobbing platform. Her eyes widened. Instead of seeing the tree before her, she found herself trapped in a vision of the stairwell. It unrolled before her eyes quickly, without question. She heard a dull whispering on the edge of her hearing, words that she couldn’t quite make out, but the scene her Cat’s Eye showed her was unmistakable.

  Crash.

  On the stairs.

  He’s alive!

  But the tree was caving in on him, closing the stairwell inch by dangerous inch. Her hand found her Cat’s Eye, and she discovered that it was still trembling, still absorbing the intense magic. But the tree is so huge... the Panthera's spell, so strong....

  "Crash!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, and knew he had heard her — she saw his head jerk up. “Hurry, there’s not much time!”

  Her vision was wrenched back to the present as Burn's arms grabbed her, throwing her back. She hadn't realized she had been walking forward, towards the tree, enthralled by her vision. Her body began to move again, but Dorian grabbed her, lifting her off the ground, his arms so tight she could barely breathe.

  “It’s okay, you're safe, don’t move,” he whispered to her over and over, his voice a hiss in her ear. She wasn’t listening though. Her body was beginning to shake just as much as her Cat’s Eye. She felt as though the necklace was sucking the very life out of her in its need for more energy. She couldn't keep it up much longer — this feeling, this sensation — it was bordering on pain.

  The only thing keeping her from a complete mental breakdown was Dorian's arms and the nonsense he was saying into her ear, his lips pressed to her lobe. Although she didn’t notice, Burn was staring in shock.

  It was too much — she couldn't handle the intensity. With one last shudder, the walls of the tree slowly started to collapse; the Cat’s Eye had exhausted its resources and Sora’s reserves. Her body slumped, limp in the Wolfy’s grasp.

  Then, at the last moment, Crash came tumbling out of the collapsed corridor and leapt onto the raft. He severed the rope that tied it in place with one sure swipe from a knife. They shot from the tree like an arrow, darting across the water. Burn used one of the narrow logs to propel them faster. Faintly, drifting from the bridges far above them, they could hear the infuriated yowls of the Catlins through the thick fog.

  Dorian lowered Sora to the raft carefully, brushing a few strands of hair from her pale, sweating face. Abruptly the assassin was next to him, also looking at the girl, a strange expression in his eyes.

  “Is she alright?” he asked, oddly subdued.

  “I don’t know,” the thief’s voice cracked. They looked at Dorian in surprise — he seemed to be on the verge of tears. “She was shaking.... I don’t know,” he whispered again.

  “Well? Why don't we ask her?” Burn suggested.

  The mage, who still sat cradling Sora’s head, looked up at the mercenary with a familiar sneer. “I can’t, moron,” he dripped. “She’s unconscious!”

  The three sat in silence, contemplating what had happened as the mist slowly swallowed them.

  Chapter 11

  Sora tried not to fall down.

  She had awakened shortly after the ordeal with the Cat's Eye, feeling sick, beaten and crippled. Burn had carried her piggy-back for a while through the swamp while they hunted for landmarks. They had finally found a large rock formation outlined on the map and had recovered the trail. After that, it was just a matter of navigating tree roots and quicksand. Sora had been able to walk eventually, and trudged alongside the men, weary to the point of pain.

  Several days passed this way, walking long distances, stopping for brief rests, eating what they could find, special kinds of flowers or weeds or tubers. The occasional rodent. They slept in short, tense spurts, unable to fully relax; stopping was dangerous and left them open for attack. The Catlins were still after them, though for the time being, they had been able to evade discovery. Sora could sense the Catlin magic eating away at the edges of her mind. The Cat’s Eye was now constantly humming, pushing away the magic that rolled over the trees and plants. Every now and then a wave of it would sweep over them, as though scanning the forest, and the Cat's Eye seemed to stretch out during these times, shielding them from detection. The longer she wore the necklace, the more it seemed to have a mind of its own. Every time it came into contact with magic, its presence in her mind became more solid.

  We’re never going to make it out of this alive. The thought passed through her mind at least once a day. This seemed to be everyone’s attitude, and barely a word passed between them the entire time.

  Crash's wounds were bound, but they were continually reopened by the constant walking. Dorian bandaged and rebandaged them, but all they could hope for was to reach the end of the swamp before infection set in. On the morning of the sixth day, Crash finally calculated that they were only a few miles from the border of the trees.

  It sounded too good to be true. Sora couldn't imagine an end in sight and tried not to get her hopes up, but she slowly began to notice a difference in their surroundings. The ground had become firmer, turning a natural brown color, no more gray mud. The trees were ta
ller, healthier, and some had leaves. The mist was finally residing into the background and — against all odds — the four had managed to stumble across a road and were now following it.

  Burn's arm swept Sora away from a patch of quicksand, a small puddle compared to the nightmare that was the swamp. Then they kept walking as though nothing had happened. Sora wobbled on her feet, her balance disturbed, and bumped into Dorian out of pure exhaustion. The mage grunted and righted her, then continued on his way, only to be righted himself by Burn a few minutes later. They were all on the verge of wandering off the road, tired to the point of lunacy. Burn was perhaps the least affected of the group, but his usual lighthearted manner was quiet and subdued. Sora couldn't help but marvel at his strength. Just what is the limit to a mercenary's endurance?

  A few moments later Crash, who was leading the group, came to a halt. Sora bumped into Dorian again, who then bumped into Burn, who stopped in his tracks and held an arm out to steady them both. He was staring at something in amazement. It took Sora a long moment to realize what was going on, then she look down too.

  Ahead of them was a small, freshwater stream.

  “Is that...?” she murmured through parched lips.

  “I'm dreaming,” Dorian replied.

  Abruptly there was a mad scramble. All four travelers threw themselves down to the water, plunging their heads beneath the surface, taking huge gulps of the fresh spring. It was the best thing Sora had ever tasted, and she could feel the water go all the way down her throat to her stomach, rejuvenating her body and awakening her mind.

  It was a pity that she had to breathe. Sora came up after a few moments, gasping for air, blinking in the slanting sunlight. She felt renewed. For the first time, she took a real look at the forest they were in. We’re almost out of the swamp, she realized. We've made it out! Thank the Goddess! A strange cloud seemed to lift from her body. A small smile even stretched across her face. Scratching her left arm, where the skin was still healing from the poisonous vines, she stood and moved into the shade. The air was clear and fresh, not the dense vapor that had clouded the swamp. It was like honey to her lungs. She found a tree with wide, sprawled roots and sat down. Stretched out her legs. If only she could have a nice big hunk of bread, then her day would be complete.

  A few minutes passed, then a shadow fell over her. Sora looked up to find Dorian, a frown on his face and his eyes oddly serious. He lowered himself slowly next to her, then continued to look at her until she cocked an eyebrow.

  “What?” she asked, slightly unnerved by his flat gaze. This isn’t like him at all — shouldn’t he be making fun of me by now?

  “Are you feeling okay?” he asked solemnly.

  She frowned. “I feel terrible. Why?”

  “I need to ask you... uh, something.”

  His voice was hushed, secretive. Their other two companions were several yards away, preoccupied with the map. She turned back to Dorian, now even more concerned. What could he possibly want?

  “I-I...” he swallowed. “I’m worried, Sora. I... well, this is going to sound silly, but I keep having... dreams.”

  Sora frowned. She hadn't expected this. She'd had a few nightmares too in the swamp, but nothing out of the ordinary — usually running from Catlins or sinking in quicksand. “Well, dreams can't hurt you, Dorian-”

  “I know that. But I think these ones can. Do you know much about Wolfy magic?”

  Sora shook her head. “No, of course not.”

  “Well... sometimes, if a Wolfy gets his hands on the right blood, he can invade the victim's mind. I keep having dreams about... about Volcrian. About something terrible happening. About... blood.” Dorian's face paled. “So much blood.”

  Sora was suddenly reminded of the dream she had had earlier in the swamp, before they had run into the Catlins. There had been blood in that one too. And a man. Someone unknown yet familiar....

  “Well, what do you want me to do?” she asked, curious.

  “Could you... touch me?”

  “What?”

  “Shh!” Dorian glanced around, but Crash and Burn were still talking to each other. He met her gaze and raised a finger to his head. “Touch my head. I don't know if it'll do anything, but... can you tell me if... um... if your Cat’s Eye senses anything wrong?”

  Sora let out a long breath, considering the request. “Well, I don't know if it works like that....” she said slowly. “But I guess I can try.”

  Dorian seemed pleased. He settled next to the tree, waiting expectantly. Sora wasn't sure how to begin. She wasn’t very skilled at using her Cat’s Eye — half of the time, she felt like it worked quite the other way around, using her instead. She really had no idea on how to “touch his head.” Finally she decided to do exactly as he suggested; that is, set her fingers lightly on his temples and see what might happen. She did so.

  Nothing.

  His skin was smooth and slightly clammy beneath the pads of her fingers, but Sora tried to concentrate past that. Tried to concentrate past the intensity of his eyes. She had to figure out what she was doing, what she was looking for, which was a little hard to do since she hadn’t a clue about either. Usually the necklace only works on its own when something is trying to harm me, she thought, trying to logic her way through it. So maybe I need to ... I don't know... tell it what I want.

  Just as the thought crossed her mind, she felt something stir in the depths of her consciousness. The alien presence of the necklace unwound itself, pressing into her thoughts; it seemed to flow down her body and into her fingers, then from there into Dorian’s head. The sensation was strange, almost like being in two bodies at once, split between two different sets of emotions and two different positions. Dimly she saw Dorian’s eyes widen in wonder.

  The Cat’s Eye searched, casting around for a sign of... well... anything. No, too broad, she had to narrow it down. Wolfy magic, she thought, hoping the Cat's Eye would understand. This necklace had been created back in the time of the races, right? It had to know what Wolfy magic felt like. Blood, she though, trying to help it along. Something unnatural.

  She waited for several minutes, the Cat's Eye stirring through Dorian's mind like an eel in a dark pond. But no, nothing came up, there was no magic there except the dormant power that flowed through the Wolfy’s veins. And yet — yet I sense something.... It was a mere flicker, there and gone. Like a shadow hovering over his mind, an unknown shade.

  Sora couldn't take it anymore. The sensation was beginning to border on something like pain, and she felt a bead of sweat slip down her brow.

  “We should be moving.”

  The voice broke her concentration. Sora’s hands flew from Dorian’s face. Her head snapped around, her heartbeat strangely rapid. Crash stood nearby, staring at them.

  “What?” she asked numbly.

  “We should be moving,” he repeated, then glanced at Dorian. “Now.”

  Sora sighed, her body aching at the thought of standing up, but somehow she managed it. She pulled herself stiffly to her feet. As the assassin moved away, Dorian rose next to her and gripped her arm tightly. “Did you sense anything?” he pressed.

  “No,” she muttered. “Nothing.”

  “You’re sure?”

  She nodded, looking away at the surrounding woods, avoiding his gaze. It wasn't entirely true. She had sensed... something, but not magic. Impossible to say what. Maybe it was just her imagination, she couldn't be sure.

  She prepared herself for a teasing remark or playful joke from the Wolfy, yet this time, strangely enough, there was only a dark silence. Only a sad, worried frown. Sora turned to look at him.

  The mage’s gaze was shadowed, his face drawn, and what might have been a flash of fear glinted in his eyes.

  “What is it?” she asked, still worried.

  “Bad dreams,” he replied, then walked past her, his shoulder brushing hers.

  Still troubled, she turned away and followed her companions into the trees.

  * * *
* *

  A few hours later, four figures stumbled wearily out of the woods bordering the swamp. If a passerby had happened upon them, they would have thought that four amazingly human-shaped rocks had appeared next to the road. Each traveler was covered in so much mud and dirt that they were almost unrecognizable. Luckily, no one was on the road to see them, for the sun had almost set behind the hills and the countryside was deserted.

  Sora sat with her head in the crook of Burn's arm, somewhere between dozing and sleeping. Crash, sitting next to her, had his eyes closed and seemed to be in a meditative state. On the other side of him was Dorian, his sweaty forehead resting against his knees. All four travelers were exhausted, on the verge of sleep.

  After a few minutes, Burn looked off into the distance and squinted his eyes, narrowed against the glare of the setting sun.

  "Crash?" The Wolfy glanced at his smaller companion. "Do you see that town?"

  "Hm?"

  "That town, over there across the field."

  Crash opened his eyes. "Yes, I see it.” Sora listened with half an ear.

  "We can make it by nightfall, get a room at an inn," the Wolfy mercenary suggested. "It looks less than a mile away."

  "Do you think she can handle it?" Dorian asked softly from the assassin's other side.

  Sora frowned at his voice — obviously he thought her too worn out to hear him. Surprisingly, it was Crash that answered. "I'm sure she will have no trouble."

  Sora sat up, turning to look at them, but neither man returned her gaze. Instead, Dorian rose slowly to his feet and picked up one of their bags. “The sooner we start, the sooner we get there,” he said.

  Sora watched as Burn got up on the other side of him. The mercenary then reached down and pulled her to her feet, Dorian following. Burn gave Sora a slight grin, then turned toward town, Dorian by his side. “We'll take the lead,” he said. “No rush now — save your energy.”

  Sora nodded, too tired to care, and watched the two Wolfies set off across the fields: Burn, his hair flaring gold with the light of the setting sun, and Dorian trotting along next to him. They were speaking to each other but she couldn't hear what was being said, and they walked quickly. The Wolfies seemed to have much better endurance than humans. The town was still some ways in the distance. She supposed they were as eager for a soft bed and warm meal as she was.