Volcrian's Hunt (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) (46 page)

Then Crash saw a prone figure behind the pedestal. His heart slammed within his chest. Without thinking, he scrambled around the rock and knelt to the ground, bending down near the girl's head.

"Sora," he whispered. He rolled her body over, his hands shaking; she was pale and cold. He touched her face gently, his fingers playing over her soft skin.
Gods, don't let me be too late.
He knew she wasn't dead—she couldn't be dead—he had promised to keep her safe.

Foolish,
the dark voice murmured from far back in his mind. The demon swam languidly about, grinning at him.
You knew you couldn't keep that promise.

Leaning down, he placed one ear to her chest and listened, trying to hear above the hammering of his own heart.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Crash's hands tightened on her shoulders. He felt a terrible pit open in his stomach—a hole that could swallow him effortlessly. He was too late; he had failed her.
No....

A faint murmur. Was that her pulse? It was barely there, the whisper of butterfly wings, perhaps a trick of the mind. He waited, not daring to hope. After a long pause, he heard another dull beat. A murmur of life. She wasn't quite gone yet.

His chest tightened; he needed to act swiftly. Her breath stuttered, fading. He turned her face toward him, checking her mouth for obstructions, trying to understand the strange state of her body. Was she paralyzed? In a coma?

He didn't know how to fix a broken bond, but he wasn't even sure that was the problem. Her necklace was still intact, but her lungs weren't working. It didn't matter—he would give her his breath.

He carefully covered her mouth with his—and breathed.

* * *

Sora fell through a black hole, spinning and ricocheting off bits of memory. Visions of her distant past flickered before her eyes, disorienting. Voices shot past her ears: Lily's hum in the morning, beckoning her awake; her stepfather's low rumble, annoyed by her childish games; the sound of horses and chickens from her mother's farm rustling beneath her bedroom window.

As the darkness dipped and turned, Sora felt herself start to fade. Her hand came into view, and she saw its outline become fainter and fainter, disintegrating before her eyes. It was almost transparent.

Burn...Crash...
she thought hazily, though she couldn't quite summon their faces.
I'm falling....

Suddenly there was a light before her, a tiny white ball flying closer and closer. It chased after her through the surrounding darkness. Her eyes locked on it, unable to look away. She saw the silhouette of a hand reaching for her. A strong, glowing hand....

She stretched toward the light, suddenly desperate to be there. The glow came closer and closer, until it was just inches away. She turned her body toward it, grasping, straining with effort. So close....

Finally, their grips locked.

* * *

The ground was hard and cold beneath her. She could hear the distant roar of the ocean in her ears. A brisk wind touched her face. She was terribly, terribly cold.

A cough fought its way from her throat. Something moved against her mouth, then pulled away.

“Sora?” a voice asked.

She opened her eyes a crack, squinting against the harsh light. It took a long moment to focus. Finally, Crash's face came into view.
Crash.

“You...you're alive,” she gasped. She felt as though she were speaking at full volume, but the sound leaked from her lips, weak and raspy. The voice of an old woman.

“I suppose I am,” Crash echoed, and a wry smile crossed his face. “And you are, too.” He looked pleased with that. She tried to smile back at him, but her face felt stiff and numb.

She lifted her head, but the world swam around her. Then she slumped back down. “I can't move,” she muttered. Her voice was even quieter than before. Why couldn't she move?
By the North Wind....

“Shhh,” Crash murmured, placing his hands on her shoulders, holding her down. “Don't get up. I think your body is in shock...the Cat's Eye....” his eyes shifted to the stone pedestal behind them.

Sora followed his gaze.
Yes, the Cat's Eye.
She remembered now. He probably didn't understand what happened very well, but it made sense to her. She had broken the second bond. It hadn't been strong—she had used the stone for only a matter of seconds. Yet her body was certainly affected. She wondered how close she had come to death. That thought left her chilled.

“Volcrian's gone?” she muttered, unsure if Crash could hear her.

He glanced down, meeting her eyes. “Yes.”

“And...Burn?”

Crash's hand gently cupped the side of her face. “He's fine,” he said softly.

She let out a slow, painful sigh. “Good.” Her strength faded with the word. Holding a conversation was far too taxing.
But...but....
There was something terribly important that she had to tell him.
Something...
she tried to remember. Her senses were slipping away, soft and fleeting, like darting birds.

But Caprion,
she finally realized. Caprion would be coming for them tonight, to take them to the Dracians. She had to tell him....

“Come on,” Crash murmured, slipping his arms under her and lifting her from the ground. He paused for a moment, adjusting to her weight. He seemed almost as tired as she was. Worry entered her thoughts. They were vulnerable for the moment, unable to defend themselves if the Harpies were to attack.

He turned to the slope. “We'll find a place to set up camp.”

Sora tried to keep her eyes open, tried to formulate a sentence. But the more she focused, the more she couldn't seem to grasp the words. They swirled about on her tongue, mixing and dissolving. She licked her lips. “The Harpies....”

“Don't worry, they won't find us.” Crash's tone was firm. She stared up at his face as he carried her, trying to force her thoughts through her mouth, gripping his sleeve in frustration. But it was futile. Her vision slowly melted into darkness.

* * *

Lori stood at the bow of the ship, the sunset fanning out behind her. The water caught the light, reflecting the bright colors, turning the ocean to molten gold.

To the east was a wall of impenetrable clouds, heavy and tumultuous. With Jacques' wind magic and the help of Ferran's Cat's Eye, they had subdued the storms long enough to pass through. Lori shuddered, remembering several sleepless nights combating the waves. This was where Sora's ship had capsized, splitting and sinking into the ocean. She didn't want to imagine that. Deep, biological instinct paralyzed her at the thought.

Before them were the gray shapes of the Lost Isles, becoming dim and vague in the fading light. They were perhaps a few miles offshore. She could hear the Dracians shouting to each other in excitement, pointing over the railing, calling orders to bank the sails.

That morning Jacques had left to find his missing crew, flying over the ocean to one of the smaller isles. They had returned almost two hours later, coasting down from the sky, about fourteen of them.

One woman swam up alongside the ship, her scales bright blue in the water, in sharp contrast to her auburn hair. “Drop me a rope!” she called. The pirates had pulled her up willingly, gazing at her scaled form, taut and athletic. A few of Silas' crew were human, but they didn't seem fazed by the Dracians. Considering their Captain, they had probably seen a few odd sights over the years.

Now they neared the Harpies' island. It was the largest of the lot, arching over the waves like a giant green turtle. Lori leaned forward, sighing. She had a terrible sense of doubt in her stomach. She had only met a few Harpies in her life, but none of them had been very warm or helpful. They stayed aloof, uninterested in human affairs. She wondered if the Harpies of the Lost Isles would be any different. Was Sora even there? That thought worried her the most. What if her daughter hadn't made it...or worse, had perished along the way? Her throat closed at the thought.

“Almost there,” a voice said from behind her. Ferran leaned over the railing at her side, a foot taller than she. He cast her an easy smile, his gray eyes glinting. “Don't worry so much.” He stretched out a long finger and poked her in the center of her forehead, pressing against an unknown knot of tension.

Lori relaxed her brow, but she couldn't bring herself to smile back.

“They'll be there,” he said quietly.

“Aye,” she replied. “If they're not dead.”

Ferran nudged her shoulder with his. “You always assume the worst. It's a wonder you can sleep at night.”

She shrugged. “Bad things happen.”

“Right,” he replied. “But no sense anticipating them. If you don't know, you don't know.”

Easy for him to say,
she thought. It wasn't his daughter risking her life, venturing to a strange island, isolated from the human world. “So many things could have gone wrong,” she murmured.

He gave her a stern look. “If Sora is anything like you, then she'll be just fine,” he said. His confidence took her off-guard. “There are strong women in your family.”

She wondered if that was a compliment. Perhaps. But he didn't know half of what she had gone through since she left Sora at the manor. No one did. And now wasn't the time to tell him.

Suddenly, a glint of light caught her attention. She turned back to the island, squinting against the fading sunset. At first she thought it was a star, but it was too low on the horizon. She pointed. “What's that?”

Ferran frowned. “Not sure....”

The light grew at a rapid pace until she saw the vague silhouette of a body. A minute later, a man appeared in the sky. His skin glowed with a strange light, noticeable against the sunset. He hovered over their ship for a moment.

Lori felt her heart quicken. A Harpy. Would he turn them away? It didn't matter—they would go to the island, no matter what.

A series of shouts arose from the Dracians. Jacques and Silas appeared on deck, roaring to the crew, keeping the men in order. The two Dracians stared at the man in the sky.

“Who are you?” Silas called, and pulled his sword from his waist; it had a short blade that was curved near the tip. “What do you want?”

“Explain yourself, Harpy!” Jacques called.

Silas elbowed him in the shoulder. “I'm the Captain,” he glared. “I'll do the talking.”

The stranger landed on the ship and the sailors scurried away from him, giving him a large berth. Jacques and Silas took a step back. Lori could understand their reaction—the air hummed with a strange, completely foreign energy. She could feel the vibration on her skin, like music but with no sound.

The man turned to look at her. His eyes brushed over Lori, studying her. When he spoke, his voice had the purity of a bell, swift and striking. “Do you know Sora?”

Lori put a hand on her chest. It took her a moment to gather her breath. “Yes,” she said. “My daughter.”

The man nodded. “She is on the island. If you anchor your ship a ways from the eastern shore, I will bring her to you. And her companions.”

Companions.
So the assassin and the Wolfy were still alive. Lori was shocked by this news—it had quite literally come out of the blue. “What of Volcrian?” she asked.

“Dead,” the man replied.

Lori's mouth gaped. Her memory of the mage was still sharp and disturbing. Sora had defeated him? But how? She couldn't imagine.

“I will bring them tonight,” the man said shortly. “Anchor your ship and wait for me.” His voice hummed with power, commanding that they obey. Then he gave the Dracians a narrow look. “No tricks.”

Silas stared at him. It was the first time that Lori had seen him speechless.

Then the Harpy briefly turned, raising a hand in farewell, and launched off the boat back into the sky. She gazed after him. His figure quickly dissolved into a small light, heading back toward the island. His visit had been so brief, she could barely come to terms with it.

“Who was that?” Ferran asked.

Lori shook her head. “I don't know,” she murmured.

From behind them, Silas let out a short, harsh sigh. “Harpies,” he grunted. “Imperious lot, aren't they?”

“Not very friendly,” Jacques agreed at his side.

“He said he would bring Sora to us,” Lori said. “Should we trust him?” She turned to look at the two Dracians.

Jacques glanced at her, then at Ferran. He shrugged. “I don't see why not,” he finally said, and sheathed his sword. “If that's Sora's plan, then we should follow it.”

“Perhaps,” Silas murmured, “but it could be a trap.”

Ferran shook his head slowly. “When he said 'no trickery,' I don't think he meant us,” he said quietly. “He must have been in a hurry.”

“I wonder why,” Silas mused.

It was a question left to be answered. Lori turned back to the horizon, gazing at the distant island, now more desperate than ever to see her daughter. Did they dare wait by the coast, anchored offshore by the will of some unknown stranger? She didn't know. Her hands tightened into fists, and she glared hard at the island. She wasn't used to this level of uncertainty, but they would have to wait it out.