Volcrian's Hunt (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) (35 page)

“What about my tour?” Laina asked.

“I will return in an hour for you,” he said. He arched an eyebrow. “Make yourself presentable.” He glanced over their tattered appearance but refrained from further comment.

Sora watched him turn and walk away. As with the Matriarch, it took her a moment to realize that he wasn't truly walking, but hovering over the ground.

She looked down at two other Harpies in the building, standing next to the silent fountain. They were large men in shining armor with swords strapped to their sides. Their wings were clearly visible, with spans of around twelve feet. She looked at their boots carefully, but if their shadows were any indication, they were standing evenly on the ground.

What of Caprion's wings?
she wondered, her gaze returning to the General's back. Only he and the Matriarch hovered as they walked, as though touching the floor took more effort than flying. Would his wings be as wide as the Matriarch's, and just as grand? How powerful?
A seraphim Harpy....
From his air of confidence, she had the feeling he was a formidable warrior.

“This is wonderful!” Laina said, turning to grin at them. “I'm going to have a tour of the city! Can you believe it? Me! The Matriarch spoke to me....” Her eyes were alight with excitement. Laina whirled toward the closest room, a definite bounce in her step. “I have to get ready,” she gushed. “See you in an hour!”

Sora stared after her as though the girl had gone mad. But of course, Laina's imagination had been fueled by her grandmother's stories, and now she had the full attention of the Harpy Matriarch. Sora shook her head slowly.
A halfling
.

“I don't like it,” Sora said softly, after Laina had disappeared. “She's too trusting.”

“I agree,” Burn replied. He hesitated, and then added, “I'll have a quick word with her. Make sure she understands the gravity of the situation.”

Sora nodded. “Do you think the Matriarch is trying to use her? Get more information out of her?”

Burn let out a long, slow breath. “The Harpies are very intelligent,” he said, “and long-lived. I wouldn't doubt it. I just hope the poor girl doesn't get used and thrown away. I don't think Harpies are especially fond of halflings. They are a proud race.”

Sora had to agree. It made sense—why would someone as domineering as the Matriarch take interest in a half-human girl, unless it was to pry information out of her? Laina had played directly into her hands.

It made her somewhat sad. She couldn't imagine what the girl must be feeling. To be an orphan for so long...and then to discover that she was part of an ancient race, even if it was only by half. What would Laina do to find a sense of belonging?

She sighed, reining in her thoughts, forcing herself not to worry. Laina was young, but her heart was in the right place. She wouldn't betray them so quickly.

Sora walked through the open archway into her room, in search of a bucket and washcloth.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

THE WIDE ROOM beyond had a huge window that opened out onto the balcony. A bed with white, gauzy curtains sat against the wall farthest from the tub. The mattress was lumpy but not completely uncomfortable, and free of bed bugs.

After bathing in a large white tub, Sora dressed in an outfit of white silk that had been left out. Her clothing was both intricate and simple: a white undershirt made of sheer mesh that conformed tightly to her skin, a pair of white breeches and tall white boots, made of butter-soft leather, clasped at the knees, and a long white robe, similar to the silken nightrobe her mother had worn on summer nights. The robe tied at the waist with a thick, silvery sash. Once the ensemble was put together, Sora felt quite comfortable in the light, airy fabric. She found a hairbrush laid out next to the bed, carved of bone, and brushed her hair. Then she pulled her hair back in a fishtail braid.

Sora stood in front of the mirror for a moment, looking at herself. She barely recognized her own face. Her hair was lighter than before, bleached by the sun. There were fading bruises along her cheekbone, and her jaw stood out far more than it used to. She looked tan, hard and lean. More than that, her expression troubled her. She tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. The smile looked forced, somehow. Insincere.

Goddess....
Since when had she become so hardened? She looked far more like a warrior than she felt.

Just then she heard the sound of voices in the hallway.

Sora shouldered her staff and stood just beyond the beaded curtain, listening. Caprion's unmistakable voice rang through the domed building. “Klaren will escort you around the city tonight. Please remain in her line of sight at all times. Afterwards, the Matriarch has invited you to dinner.”

“Thank you!” Laina replied. “I feel honored!”

Sora could sense Caprion's smile, the vague crook of his lips, without even seeing his face.

The seraphim continued to speak. “Burn, the Matriarch would like you to accompany Laina on her tour of the city, but you will retire before dinner. We will have a separate meal served to your room.”

“I thought the Matriarch only wanted Laina to see the city,” Burn rumbled, a deep croak compared to Caprion's rising tenor.

“She often changes her mind,” the seraphim murmured. There it was, that smile again. Sora grimaced, imagining the Harpy's expression.

Burn's silence was his only response.

A series of footsteps passed by Sora's door. She could see the faint outline of silhouettes through the beaded curtain, including one with large white wings. She closed her eyes briefly. Good, they would be leaving her behind. Maybe she would have the opportunity to sneak out after all. She had to locate Crash....

“Ahem.”

Sora took a surprised step backwards. Caprion's face suddenly appeared through the beaded curtain. She was shocked by his sudden appearance, the way he looked at her with his vibrant amethyst eyes.

“You're coming with me,” he said directly.

Sora felt her skin tingle. The power of that voice....She found herself stepping forward, not even questioning. But then she shrugged that compulsion off, relying on a small tendril of her Cat's Eye.

“Where?” she asked instead.

Caprion frowned. He looked like he wasn't used to being questioned. “I'm going to show you the city,” he said.

Sora's eyes narrowed. She didn't trust this man, not in the least. He wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't cause any mischief. But why not just station extra guards at her door? What game was he playing at?

“Fine,” Sora said resignedly. She briefly checked herself, making sure she had all her belongings. Her staff, daggers, and the extra Cat's Eye folded in cloth, shoved in her pocket....

Then she followed Caprion into the hallway. He glided in front of her, covering far more ground than his steps should allow. Sora had to walk swiftly to keep up with him. Two guards stood in the foyer below and saluted him as he passed, lowering their eyes in respect. He ignored them.

Once they were outside, Sora watched as he raised his right hand, creating the same signs as he had before. She saw the soft glow surround her body. “Where are we going?” she asked. This time when he lifted her into the air, it was far less shocking. He hovered next to her, flying effortlessly through the night, his wings still invisible.

“To Asterion's eastern district,” he explained. “There is something I would like you to see.”

Sora didn't know what to say to that.

The two landed a few kilometers away. The trees slowly fell back beneath them, becoming more widely spaced, until she could see the buildings of the city easily. Towering structures, stretching up and up, crossed by white limestone bridges and buttresses. Their windows were the same as the small domed building where she was staying: large and oval-shaped, capturing the very last rays of the sinking sun and turning the light into rainbow hues.

The pair set down in an empty market square. Sora looked up at the massive buildings that were far larger than anything on the mainland, stretching five or six stories or more. They resembled tall spears jutting from the ground, with spiraling towers and domed peaks, balconies upon balconies on each floor. The walls were inlaid with stone murals, patterns and filigree. None of the buildings had doors, she noticed. All of entryways were tall stone arches that opened onto the ground floors. Some were obscured by hanging beads or mats.

Limestone blocks paved the ground beneath her. Just like the riverside garden, almost half the blocks were broken and splintered. Weeds and grass grew up through narrow crevices. Wild ivy had taken root, climbing over porch steps and tall pillars, scaling the architecture. The great walls looked chipped and worn, slowly crumbling before the elements.

Everything had a sense of age and silence, as though she stood amidst a lost and abandoned city.

“Where is everyone?” she couldn't help but ask.

“This is the business quarter,” Caprion explained. He stood in the center of the market square, watching her closely. “Everyone has gone home for the day. Before the Great Fall, this city was one of the largest in existence. Shop owners would live above their businesses, crammed on top of each other.” He nodded to the darkened windows of the upper stories. They looked dirty and unused. “Our population has dwindled over the years. Now there are more than enough dwellings to choose from.”

Sora nodded.
Why is he telling me this?
She gazed at the hollow courtyard, the haunted windows of the empty buildings. The shadows were slowly lengthening on the walls, the sun crawling ever- lower in the sky. It was eerily quiet.

“Come,” he said, and strode away toward a narrow alley that led between the buildings. Sora hesitated, glancing around once again. She had no choice. She had to follow him.

They traveled up the alley, through closely packed storefronts, half of them abandoned. Some looked like they hadn't been used in years, their doors smothered in cobwebs and ivy. She followed Caprion over piles of rubble and clumps of ferns that sprouted up from the ruined sidewalk. It felt like the forest was slowly invading the city, spreading into every corner. Within another hundred years, she could imagine the entire city being overtaken by dandelions and scrub brush.

Eventually they left the compact business quarter and entered a stretch of forest, following the paved pathway that curved slightly upward. Sora saw evidence of benches and tables, half-buried under moss. Perhaps long ago this had been another courtyard, a beautiful outdoor cafe or a public park, where citizens would sit and enjoy the midday sun.

The pathway connected with a wide thoroughfare at the base of a giant hill. The forest fell back behind them and the hillside curled at their feet, rolling into the air, stretching up and up, covered by tall dry grass. Sora leaned back, impressed by its height. The hillside dwarfed the surrounding countryside like a giant's grave, higher than even the buildings of Asterion and almost a mile across.

This new road could fit several wagons side-by-side. Lining the street was a series of tall statues, each larger than life. Caprion led her around the base of the hill, following the road. They passed the statues slowly, giving her time to observe each one. All were Harpies with grand wings, either carrying swords, scrolls or books. Some of the Harpies had two or three sets of wings lining their backs. These statues were always dressed in elaborate armor and carried fierce weapons, swords of fire or massive war hammers—albeit of stone.

They reached the end of the series of statues. The road continued, winding up the hill out of sight. The stars had come out, glinting in the darkness, the only source of light other than the strange glow that emanated from Caprion's skin. Toward the top of the hill, she saw what looked like a temple, now just a vague mound in the darkness.

“Where are we?” she finally asked, turning to her escort.

He was watching her again. “This is the Road of Remnants,” he said quietly. “And beyond this is the Singing Chamber.”

“The Singing Chamber?”

“Yes.” Caprion turned away, looking toward the top of the hill. “It is a deep bowl in the earth, carved from a bed of sunstone. Young Harpies go there to find their wings.”

“Find their...?” Sora frowned, unsure if she understood.

Caprion continued. “We are born of Wind and Light. All Harpies have powerful voices from the moment we are born. But to truly unlock our magic, we must find our stars.” His eyes looked to the sky, the star-strewn blanket above them. “We cast our voices far out into the heavens...and hope that one day, our star sings back. When we find it, then our wings emerge and we are able to harness the full power of Light.”

Sora frowned even more. “So not all Harpies have wings?” she asked, eyeing his back.

He shook his head. “No, not all. It is a terrible thing for a Harpy to have no wings.”

Sora nodded, absorbing this fact. Then she asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue. “Do
you
have wings?” she asked.

Caprion turned to look at her, a glimmer of surprise on his face. “Of course,” he said. Then his look slowly melted into a mischievous smile. Sora felt her heart begin to pound.
Beautiful.
It seemed unfair that one of the races should be so damned pretty.