Volcrian's Hunt (The Cat's Eye Chronicles)

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Volcrian's Hunt (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) Page 27

by Shreffler, T. L.


  The necklace stuttered. Then there was a dull hum in her ears. The stone began to glow through her shirt. After a slight hesitation, she pulled it into the open, and a soft green light fell upon the dark room.

  Immediately her eyes found the far wall. Directly in front of her, perhaps twenty paces away, was a granite wall. Thick metal shackles were clamped on it, rusted by moisture.

  Sitting on the floor, his hands bound behind him by shackles, was a familiar figure.

  Sora's heart leapt to her throat. She quickly stepped toward him.

  Smack!

  She bumped head-first into an invisible wall and almost yelped in surprise. Wincing, she rubbed her nose, her eyes tearing up. What was that? She raised her hands and extended them outward, feeling along the hidden barrier. Her hands tingled with magic. The guards must have resurrected some sort of shield to keep him imprisoned. Otherwise, he could easily break through the rusty shackles and make an escape.

  Except...he wasn't moving.

  Her brow furrowed with worry. She quickly touched her necklace, sending a silent command. With a soft chime, the Cat's Eye stirred and she felt a familiar sense of inhalation. The magic was slowly absorbed by the stone. It took much longer than usual.

  The barrier dissolved and she rushed to Crash's side. But as she neared, she felt a strange density in the air, as though the shadows were growing gradually darker. The room became increasingly colder. She could actually see small puffs of frost rising from her breath. She paused a few feet away from him, staring down at his body.

  The assassin's shoulders were slumped forward and his head was bent down. She couldn't tell if he was unconscious or not. Sora forced herself to cross the remaining distance. She felt like she had to climb through the air, swim through it like a dense fluid. The shadows grew deeper, and to her keen eye, she noticed that they were moving...which was strange, as there was no light to displace them. What is this? It didn't feel like Harpy magic...or magic of any kind, really. She tried to suppress the fear that rose in her throat. It's just Crash, she reassured herself. He won't hurt you.

  “Crash?” she murmured quietly. She knelt down next to him. With a trembling hand, she reached out to touch his shoulder.

  His head jolted up. He shifted away from her, twisting his body as though he would attack. She fell back with a cry, raising her arm to defend herself, even though the man was chained to the wall. The shadows shifted again, rising from the floor, covering him like armor.

  Then his eyes met hers. They narrowed. Then widened.

  “Sora,” he rasped. It was a horrible sound, his throat as rough as shredded wood. “What are you doing here?”

  Her eyes went to his neck. He wore a thick metal collar, which was also chained to the wall. It was studded with a large sunstone at the front, tight against the base of his throat. Angry red blisters surrounded the collar. Red burns covered his skin, seeping blood.

  “Crash....” She couldn't keep the horror from her voice. She sat back on her heels, closely observing him. Bruises covered his face. His lip was split, his eyebrow, his cheekbone. “What have they done to you?”

  He shook his head slightly, then winced. His breath sounded painful. It came in short, uneven gasps. “I've had worse,” he croaked.

  She put her hand against his shoulder, pushing through the shadows that surrounded him. They were thick in the air, tangible, like a gauzy curtain.

  “I'm going to get you out of here,” she said, reaching for the shackles. They were made of thick iron, but perhaps she could pry them from the wall. She wondered if her daggers would have any effect.

  “No.”

  She paused. “What?”

  He was breathing heavily with the effort of speaking. He coughed a little, spitting out flecks of blood. Her face paled at the sight.

  “We can't escape,” he gasped. “I can't fight them like this.”

  Sora let out a short breath. She knew it was true. And she was far too weak to carry him—he was a good eighty pounds heavier than she. They wouldn't get far...and in the process of escaping, the Harpies would turn on them. They couldn't afford to be imprisoned right now. Volcrian was on his way.

  She felt tears of frustration rising, and she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control herself. “Then what do we do?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  There was a scraping noise as the shackles moved. Then, abruptly, his hand touched her face. He stroked the back of his fingers along her cheek...so incredibly gently.

  She flinched in surprise and looked at him. He was staring at her, his expression hard and solemn. She knew that look: fierce and calculating, like a caged wolf. It was the face of a warrior—someone much stronger than she could ever be.

  “You must convince the Harpies to set me free,” he said hoarsely. Then he lightly pressed a finger to her forehead. “Use your head,” he murmured. “You're good at that.”

  Sora felt a small smile on her lips. He ran his finger down the side of her cheek again, then pinched her chin, giving it a light squeeze. “Yes, smile,” he murmured. “You must look...like you don't care.”

  But I do care, she thought. The truth of it resonated throughout her body, her eyes widening fractionally. I care a lot.

  His touch lingered on her face, a silent connection that slowly warmed her blood. She had never felt so close to anyone in her entire life. She didn't want to leave. No, she wanted to stay in the darkness, gazing at him, listening to his ruined voice.

  “What?” she asked softly, trying to understand his expression. It was fiery and soft all at once, as though she had spoken her thoughts aloud—as though he had heard every word.

  “You're beautiful, Sora,” he said.

  Her breath caught. Her lips parted. She stared at him, unsure of what to say, and she suddenly had the intense urge to hide her face. Truly? she thought, wallowing in inexplicable shyness. At a time like this? But she couldn't deny it. She cast her eyes away, trying to hide her reaction. Why would he say something like that?

  She clasped his hand, forcing out a strangled laugh. “Growing sentimental on me, Crash?” she whispered, trying to make light of it.

  “Maybe,” he replied roughly. “I won't make a habit of it.” But when she met his gaze, she saw a vague glint of humor. A slow smile pulled at his cracked lips, and his expression became hooded, almost lazy, gazing at her. She felt her stomach clench. She wanted to melt into a pool and disappear.

  There was a sudden noise above them, the sound of voices and footsteps. Sora broke eye contact, pulling back. “I should go,” she said quickly, though it was hard to turn away from him.

  His gaze shifted over her shoulder to the staircase. “Be careful,” he murmured.

  She nodded. “You, too.” Her words seemed completely inane.

  He grinned again, and blood seeped from his torn lip. “I'll see you soon, Sora,” he said softly.

  She lingered for a moment more, looking down at him....Then she turned back toward the staircase, tucking her Cat's Eye away. The stone's light slowly faded, returning to a simple rock. She felt sick and empty leaving him like that, uncertain if she would really see him again. Part of her wanted to break through the shackles, help him to his feet and run into the night...but she already knew it would be futile. It took all of her strength to walk away. She didn't let herself look back.

  I must look like I don't care, she reminded herself, thinking of his words.

  She took the stairs slowly, feeling winded, exhausted. Caprion stood at the top, his figure outlined by moonlight. She steeled herself as he came into view, hardening her expression, allowing a hint of disgust to touch her lips. Gazing at the Harpy, it was easy to feel. How can they do this? she thought, unable to stifle her bitterness. Such a powerful race. Where is their mercy?

  He nodded to her and motioned for her to follow him. “Come,” he said quietly. “There is one more place I wish to show you.”

  Sora followed him silently. They didn't speak, but walked away from the
holding cells, past Sumas and into the night. The large soldier stared after them, but this time, his angry gaze didn't affect her. Sora was lost in thought, her mind still trapped in that dark cell, sitting next to the assassin.

  They walked for a distance into the trees, up a woodland path that curved to the left, cutting through acres of wilderness, back to the city. As soon as they were out of sight, Caprion paused, creating a few symbols with his hand. The white glow surrounded her body, and again they lifted easily into the air, flying through the night.

  Within twenty minutes, they reached the ocean. Sora gazed down, consumed by a strange familiarity. She recognized this view from her vision, as though she had somehow gone back in time, stepping into an old dream. A series of cliffs towered above the waves; on top of them, separate from the forest, was a wide meadow of clear green grass. There stood a circular stone monument, like a giant crown embedded in the earth. The rocks were huge, perhaps thirty feet tall and almost ten feet wide at the base. Their surface glinted black in the moonlight, smooth and glassy, like polished obsidian.

  Toward one end of the ruins was a slight hill that led up to the peak of a cliff overlooking the ocean. A small stone pedestal stood there, an ancient mound of rock, eroded by centuries of rain and wind. The waves sounded loud and fierce, crashing against the cliff face in massive swells, as though trying to climb the rock.

  They landed amidst the circle of sacred stones. The grass was thick and dewy from moisture, strewn with shards of broken rock. At its center was a stone bed, like an embalming table, large enough to lay a body on top.

  Standing on the grass, Sora felt dwarfed by the large pillars of stone. They glinted in the moonlight, blacker than the night. The air was tense with suppressed power, as though at any moment the grass might burst into flames. She waited for her Cat's Eye to respond, certain of the presence of magic, but it seemed to have fallen dormant again.

  Caprion turned to look at her. “We call this place Terren Morte,” he said. “In the Old Tongue, it meant the Garden of the Dead. We would sacrifice our enemies to the One Star, the God of Light. It was a...very old ritual,” he finished, glancing around the stones as though at a loss for words.

  But Sora wasn't thinking of the large stones. Her eyes were still on the dagger that Caprion wore. “Why did you take me to see the assassin?” she asked quietly.

  “To gain your trust,” the Harpy General replied.

  Sora let out a slow breath. “And you can guarantee his life and freedom?” she asked. “If I take you back to the mainland?” It seemed like a simple enough request. She didn't even have to do anything. Just allow him to travel with them.

  “Yes,” Caprion replied.

  Crash wouldn't like it. He barely tolerated Laina—a full-fledged Harpy seraphim would not be welcomed. But what choice did she have? She couldn't allow his torture to continue. She could still see the burns along his skin, the blistering wounds, the seeping blood. How long until infection set in? She listened to the rush of the ocean for a moment, allowing its rhythm to wash over her, calming her, giving her strength.

  “All right,” she said finally. “You can come with us...in exchange for his release.”

  Caprion nodded solemnly. “I will hold you to your word.”

  “Of course.”

  “In that case, we are allies now.” Caprion's expression became grim. “I think you should know that the Matriarch does not plan to help you.”

  Sora winced. “I know,” she replied.

  “She hates the Cat's-Eye stones as much as the Unnamed. She saw the island fall,” Caprion said, his eyes lingering at the base of her throat. “She hopes that the bloodmage will kill you and destroy the necklace. Then we will finish the fight.”

  Sora frowned, unnerved. “And if I survive?”

  Caprion paused. “Then she will kill you herself.”

  Sora remained silent, absorbing his words. Caprion glanced upward at the stars, his eyes searching them, as though reading some hidden message. “The Wolfy mage approaches,” he finally said. “He will arrive in two days' time. The Matriarch is meeting with Laina tonight to find out the truth of your partnership with the assassin.” He shook his head slowly. “Once she knows, she will kill you both before the mage ever reaches the island.”

  Sora's eyes widened. She stared at Caprion, stunned. “W-what?” she stuttered. “But why?”

  “It is our sacred duty to destroy the Sixth,” he said. “And if you are aiding him, you are a traitor in our eyes. At least, the eyes of my people.” Caprion looked back to the stars. “Personally, I think it is quite brave of you.”

  Sora felt numb. “What should we do?” she asked quietly.

  “Leave,” Caprion said. “As soon as possible.”

  “But....” She glanced around at the stones, her mouth dry. “We're on an island. We can't hide from the Matriarch for long.”

  “You can with my help,” Caprion said. A smile alighted on his perfect face. He looked confident and sincere. “The Matriarch trusts me with all of her whims. She will ask me to hunt you down, and I will lead the search party astray. This should give you enough time to deal with the mage. She won't interfere with your battle.”

  Sora nodded slowly, hardly able to believe it. She put her hand on her face, closing her eyes, wishing for a moment of peace. “Just one good night's rest,” she muttered.

  Caprion laughed unexpectedly. It was a bright sound, more than charming. “You might still have that,” he said, “but it wouldn't be safe for you to stay in the city. I have brought you here for a reason. This is how you plan on killing the mage, is it not? You will use a Cat's Eye to steal the life from him.”

  “Yes,” Sora agreed, “that was our plan.” At least the Harpies seemed familiar with what she hoped to do.

  He pointed to the far-off pedestal at the top of the cliff. “Your Cat's Eye should be placed there,” he said. Then he pointed to the bed of stone in the center of the circle. “And the mage must lie here. The stones will do the rest. It won't be easy to pin him down. Have you thought of that?”

  Sora frowned at him. No, she hadn't...but with Burn's strength and Crash's skill, she thought they might be able to do it. A little trickery would help. She had been so focused on getting to the stone circle, she hadn't thought yet of fight.

  “Why are you helping us?” she asked, staring at him, her suspicion returning to the surface.

  “Because I am a seraphim,” he replied simply. “And I, too, would like to lay the Dark God to rest.”

  Sora wondered if he knew what that would take.

  Caprion continued urgently. “Tonight, when I return you to your room, gather your companions and travel here to the ruins. You can hide in the forest, while I will see to the assassin.” He paused in thought. “Stay hidden among the trees. The Matriarch will organize a search party, and I will ensure that they don't find you. When the mage arrives, you will have to fight him on your own.”

  Sora nodded. “What about afterward?” she asked; she almost didn't want to. A cold dread filled her when she thought of the aftermath of the battle. If they weren't dead, they would have the Harpies to contend with.

  Caprion glanced at the stars again. He listened for a long moment, turning slightly away from her, his eyes searching the sky. Sora listened as well, but she heard nothing. She wondered what he was doing. Could he actually communicate with the heavens? It seemed impossible, and yet....

  Finally, the Harpy said, “There is a second ship approaching through the storms. This one is captained by a Dracian.”

  Sora's heart quickened.

  Caprion read her response easily. “I take it you know them?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied. Jacques! Could the scoundrel actually be coming to rescue them? She remembered his promise from before they had entered the Crystal Caves. It seemed like months had passed, though it had only been a week or two at most. “They are friends,” she explained. “They're coming to take us home. You'll accompany us,” s
he added.

  Caprion nodded. “Then I will make sure that they can approach the island safely.” He glanced at the stars again, distracted. “Have we covered all of the details?”

  Sora frowned. She hadn't realized they were planning everything out—it had happened without her intention. Honestly, she felt much more confident than she had thirty minutes ago. “I think that's all,” she said, feeling the tension loosen in her chest.

  “Good.” Caprion reached out a hand to her. “Come, we must go back now. Laina will have returned to your quarters. I don't want the Matriarch suspecting anything.”

  Sora stepped toward him and took his hand, surprised by how easy it was. The glow traveled down his wrist and through their fingers, transferring up her arm until her entire body was surrounded with light. Then they lifted up again, floating into the sky, carried by a brisk wind from the ocean.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CAPRION DEPOSITED HER on the balcony outside her room. He nodded to her briefly. “Remember,” he said. “Leave tonight as soon as you can. Come dawn, the Matriarch's soldiers will arrest you. Be gone long before then.”

  Sora nodded wordlessly, and watched the majestic Harpy step off the balcony into the open air. He walked a few steps, then flew upward, sailing back toward the Matriarch's temple.

  Then she turned around and entered her room. She crossed through it quickly and headed for Burn's chambers. In the hallway, she glanced down at the bottom floor and noticed the two guards missing from around the fountain. Caprion's doing? She couldn't be sure. He hadn’t spoken to anyone on their return, but perhaps he’d already planned for her agreement, for their escape.

  She brushed through the beaded curtain into Burn's room. His chamber was the mirror image of her own, everything exactly the same, from the position of the bed to the color of the curtains. The Wolfy was lying down, his arms folded behind his head, staring at the bed's canopy.

  He looked at her when she entered, sitting up, his gold eyes quizzical. “There you are,” he said, raising a light-brown eyebrow. “Where....?”

 

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