Volcrian's Hunt (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) (39 page)

Laina stayed on the ground, still trembling from the blow. Sora's fist ached from the force of it. She might have broken the girl's nose, she didn't know for sure. She had lashed out viciously, unable to control herself.

But as she stared at the girl, she felt the guilt and pity drain out of her. Suddenly, Sora was filled with a cold hardness. She had endangered all of their lives. They were lucky that the Matriarch herself wasn't in that room, waiting to imprison them. Volcrian was all that mattered now.

Sora leaned over Laina's body, speaking fiercely into her ear. “If you want to live with the Harpies, so be it. You have my blessing. But once we leave, we can't come back for you.” She paused. She wanted to say more, but she couldn't waste any more time. “Take care of yourself.” Then she stood up, turned away, and strode swiftly from the room.

Burn was waiting for her out in the hallway. Considering his long ears, Sora was certain that he had heard everything. He gave her a sad look, but didn't question the situation. Instead, he fell into step behind her.

“I didn't want it to be this way,” Sora said as they dashed for the outside balcony.

“I know,” he said hollowly. “But she made her choice.”

His words struck her more than Laina's actions had. Burn had always been fond of the girl, catering to her like a daughter. And yet he still followed Sora down the stairs without hesitation. He understood the gravity of the situation—exactly what was at stake.

Yet Sora couldn't shake the feeling that they were abandoning her...and for him to say that....

It's because of Volcrian,
she thought, reining in her emotions.
We don't have time for this now.

Sometimes being a warrior meant that she had to be logical. Crash had taught her that, and Burn knew it, too.

They ran into the night, making for the nearby woodland. Sora could remember where the circle of stones sat, several miles to the east of Asterion. They started in that direction, using the stars as their guide.

* * *

A flicker of light entered his vision. Crash gritted his teeth. Pain coursed through him with each heartbeat, focusing him, fueling him.

The light approached through the dark cell, taking on the figure of a man. He walked a half-inch above the ground, no footsteps. When Crash used his demon's eyes, he could see a halo of six wings surrounding the man's back. They glimmered translucently.

He recognized the bastard—the one who had taken his dagger, who had chained him to the wall.
General,
the soldiers had called him, not that his title made a difference. He would bleed the same as any man.

The Harpy knelt before him. A sickening vibration passed over Crash's skin. The sunstone flared at his neck in response; pain shot up his throat, down his limbs.

He coughed up blood and spat at the man's boots. The General didn't flinch. Wordlessly, he took out a key and began unlocking Crash's chains. They fell to the ground with a loud clank. Next, the man released the iron collar with its sunstone. As the collar was pried away from his flesh, Crash felt a great surge of agony, his muscles cramping, his skin tearing. Then the pain passed. All of the strength left him, as though a great wind had swept through his body. He caved forward, struggling to breathe.

The man fully removed the collar and tossed it to one side. Crash could only sit, holding himself up with his arms, gathering enough strength to attack.

“Before you kill me,” the General said in a low, taunting voice, “you should know that I've come to release you.”

Crash spat more blood at his feet. “Why?”

“Because I promised the girl with the Cat's Eye that I would.”

Crash bristled, immediately suspicious. “Why are you helping us?”

“Let's say we have a common enemy,” he murmured. He settled his right hand on his belt, directly upon Crash's Named weapon—the Viper. “The Matriarch told me to kill Sora tonight.”

“Touch her, and I'll rip off your hands.”

The General paused, glancing at his slumped, bruised body. A look of distaste touched his lips. “Fortunately for you,” he murmured, “I didn't.”

At the General's mocking words, Crash felt a cold fire light within him. His muscles tightened. His head throbbed. With the sunstone removed, nothing restrained his demon's power—only his own will. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked quietly.
I'm going to tear out your throat.

“Because I want you to trust me.”

Crash could have laughed. Hatred surged. He grinned up at the Harpy, full of malice.

The General spread his hands in appeasement, like comforting a sick man. “We are on the same side, you and I. We both want to see the bloodmage killed, and your party return safely to the mainland.”

“And why would you want that?”

“For the sake of good deeds, of course,” he replied, and flashed a condescending smile, sharp as a knife. “I don't need a reason to do what is right...unlike an assassin.”

Enough.
Crash's hatred fueled his strength. He launched to his feet. His shadow lengthened, enveloping the Harpy in a rush of black smoke, twisting around his white body and dousing his glow.

The Harpy stumbled back, taken off-guard. He flailed uselessly. The shadow wrapped around his arms and legs in a thick web. It tightened around his throat and smothered his wings, extinguishing their light like a snuffed candle. The room fell to blackness.

Instantly, Crash stood behind him. He slipped his dagger from the man's belt and held it to his navel. At the touch of the blade, the General went still.

“Harpies,” Crash spat. “Pathetic, always preying on the weak. You've never fought one of the Named, have you?” He dug the blade a little deeper. “Never let your guard down.”

The man struggled against the grip of Crash's shadow, choking on it, suffocating. It damped his voice, stifling his magic. “I released you for Sora,” he wheezed.

“A mistake on your part,” Crash growled.

“I spared her life!”

Crash paused. He was sorely tempted to shove his blade clear through the man's intestines, but a small, nagging doubt entered his thoughts....

“If you come near her again, I'll kill you,” he said.

He turned, his shadow wrapping around him, and vanished into the early-morning darkness.

* * *

By the time they could hear the ocean, the sun was already breaking the horizon, casting gold light across the water. Burn paused at the edge of the stone circle.

They found a large tree with a gap between its roots, and set up camp inside the hollow trunk, hidden from sight. They took turns sleeping as the other kept watch. Several times, Sora heard distant horn-calls or shouting voices. But Caprion kept his word, and no figures descended from the sky.

Toward late evening, there was an ominous rustle in the foliage above them. It was Sora's turn to keep watch. She sat at the very edge of the tree roots, hidden amongst a thick bushel of ferns. She peeked up at the sky. No sign of Harpies....

A shadow dropped from the tree next to them. She bit her lip, barely containing a cry. At first she thought it was a large jungle cat, but the figure uncoiled from the ground and stood there, leaning against the tree trunk, one hand held out to support himself.

Crash.

She rose silently to her feet, wanting to run to him, but he crossed to her first. “Hush,” he murmured, glancing toward the sky. “They're still searching for us.”

His voice shocked her. It was raspy and sore, huskier than she remembered. Painful to listen to.

Sora couldn't contain herself. She embraced him in a swift, fierce hug. His arms wrapped around her and he pushed her back into the shade of the tree roots, until they were hidden once again. They both knelt down in the shelter of the ferns. She sat back to look at him, drinking in the sight.

He must have swum through a stream, because his hair dripped with water, and was pressed against his head in a bristling black mess. His eyes gleamed in the fading sunlight. Bruises and burn marks covered his skin, though she was surprised to see that many of his wounds were already healing. Another trait of the Unnamed? She didn't want to ask. She only cared that he was safe. She had spent the majority of the day agonizing over the thought of him being tortured, wondering if she should go back to the holding cells and break him out. But she trusted Caprion, not wanting to jeopardize their plan. Once again, the Harpy's word had proven true.

The worst of the burns were around Crash's neck, where the sunstone had been. The skin was cracked and peeling, caked with blood. That explained the rough timbre of his voice. She was certain the sunstone would leave a scar.

“You look terrible,” she said, worried.

“And you look tired,” he replied.

She bowed her head in agreement. It had been difficult for her to sleep during the day. “How did you get out?” she asked wearily.

Crash frowned slowly. He indicated the dagger at his belt. “A Harpy released me,” he said. “He told me that you asked him to.”

Sora blinked, taken aback. “Oh,” she muttered. “Good.” She held his eyes, hoping he wouldn't ask any questions. He wouldn't respond well to her deal with Caprion, and she was too tired to argue with him. How much had the Harpy told him?

He frowned, watching her closely.

“You tracked us through the woods?” she asked, trying to change the subject. “We should move camp, then. If it was that easy for you to find us....”

“I wasn't followed, and I knew what to look for.” A bit of amusement entered his eyes. “I taught you how to cover your tracks. Remember?”

Don't smile!
Sora told herself firmly. But she couldn't control her expression. How could she forget? All of those grueling months traveling through Fennbog swamp, learning his techniques, how to fight and defend herself. It was a long time ago, but this was the first time he had acknowledged it. She grinned at the dirt, still not looking at him. She liked it that he remembered those days.

“Does that make me your student?” she couldn't help but ask. She wondered if he would recognize the question, because she had asked it once before, back in the swamp, two years ago, when she had been terrified of him.

He paused, looking away. He seemed surprised by the question, though he hid it well. She could read him much better now than she used to. “You were my first student,” he said briefly, echoing his words from the swamp. Then he glanced at her. “I suppose you still are.”

She grimaced. “I thought I'd surpassed you by now,” she said, attempting humor.

He smiled quietly in response, but his eyes remained dark, his expression fading with the sun. She sensed him pull away, and immediately regretted her words.

He looked around their camp, quickly noting Burn's sleeping figure inside the tree. If he wondered about Laina's absence, he didn't mention it. Something told her that he was relieved to see her gone...and that he already suspected the reason why.

“Volcrian will arrive on the island tomorrow,” Sora said, remembering Caprion's warning. “The sacred stones are a quarter-mile to the east. I figure we can lure him there....”

Crash nodded, accepting her plan without question. “Have you learned what you must do with your Cat's Eye?” he asked warily.

“Yes.” She thought of Caprion's words, their meeting at the sacred stones. Then another thought occurred to her. She reached into her pocket, took out a folded piece of cloth, and held it out to Crash.

He paused before touching it. Briefly, he said, “I can't open this.”

“It's a second Cat's Eye,” Sora explained quickly. “I thought I might use it instead.” But would it require a bond to work? Would it activate once they put it on the pedestal? She couldn't control it without touching it, and she wasn't sure what that would do to her.

Crash seemed to read her mind. “It could work,” he said. “And it's better than the alternative.”

She pocketed the small stone again and smiled at him, though it didn't quite feel genuine. “Tomorrow...” she started to say, then paused, unable to finish the thought.
Tomorrow, we might fail.
“How will you fight Volcrian? Do you know what to expect?”

Crash shook his head slowly. “His magic has changed since our last meeting,” he murmured. “But he's still flesh and bone. We can restrain him if we get close enough. Easier said than done.”

Sora raised an eyebrow. “I take it you've tried that before?”

He nodded. “Don't allow him to get hold of your blood. You saw what he did to Dorian.”

“I won't,” she promised.

They paused, lingering on the thought of Dorian, on the battle to come. “I'll take watch,” Crash said abruptly, and motioned for her to lie down next to Burn. “You should rest. You need it.”

She raised an eyebrow. “You're the one who just escaped,” she replied. “Are you sure you're not tired?” He looked tough, but she could see the drag of his shoulders, the way he knelt without moving, conserving his energy.

“I just spent the last day sitting in a cell,” he observed. “I'm more than rested.”

She wanted to argue with him. He might have been imprisoned, but he had also been tortured and brutalized. A serious injury could be far more tiring than physical exertion. Yet his expression was determined, and she didn't think she had the strength to convince him otherwise. She could feel her own exhaustion overcoming her.