Sora's Quest (9 page)

“I hear nothing; you’re imagining it,” Dorian said with conviction. “Really, sweetness, getting all worked up like this. It’s probably just fatigue.”

“No! You have to go look!” Suddenly Sora was scared. She knew she wasn’t losing her sanity. For some reason they couldn't hear it.

“Sora....”

“Dorian, do what she says.” The assassin’s voice was soft with authority. “Put her worries to rest. It’s probably the valerian root wearing off, but if not....You know who follows us.”

Sora was caught off-guard. Truly? Did he believe her word? She turned to stare at the assassin, speechless.

Dorian nodded silently, though he didn't appear happy about it. He drew two long, wickedly curved knives from his belt and turned to the forest. It stood before him, a seemingly unbreachable dark wall, barely penetrated by the firelight. Then he moved swiftly over to the trees, soundless, a stealthy slink to his walk.

“Stay with her,” Dorian spoke over his shoulder, his words directed at Crash. It was an unexpected command. Then he stepped beyond the treeline, vanishing almost instantly into the shadows.

Sora moistened her dry lips. The sound of bells still danced at the edges of her hearing, half out of her thoughts, as though manifesting from a dream. It unnerved her.

“Is there something in the forest?” she asked, turning to look at the assassin.

“Shhh,” he hissed.

She bit her lip, trying not to groan as her heart raced. The dark forest was terrifying, and the strange noises only made her want to panic.
I'm still on Fallcrest lands, my lands,
she tried to remind herself, to take comfort in that, but she didn't feel like she owned this forest. No, this was a wild place, untamed, bound by its own whims and laws.

And she hardly felt safer standing next to Crash. He was probably more dangerous than whatever awaited in the forest...but that didn't mean he would protect her. She couldn't—
wouldn't
—trust him.

“Who follows you?” she whispered. Her anxiety forced her to speak. She couldn't look away from where Dorian had vanished into the trees.
What if something really is out there?

“It's probably just a squirrel,” Crash answered, his words short and clipped. “Even if it's a bear, not a lot of beasts can harm a Wolfy mage.”

He neatly sidestepped her question. She wasn't surprised. “So he really is a Wolfy?” she asked instead, her voice soft.

“Of course.”

“Then why not use his magic to protect us?”

“It's not that simple.”

Well, at least he didn't say no,
she thought.

Sora was suddenly distracted by the idea of magic; it was all but legend now, only found in the stories of the five races. Of course, her people had superstitions....Healers and Priestesses, blessings from the Goddess, omens, charms, bad luck...just not magic. She wondered what it looked like, if it was anything like her favorite stories or something completely different.
Dorian can use magic.
The thought left her hopelessly intrigued. Maybe he would give her a demonstration. She could easily imagine the Wolfy rising to the task, eager to show off.

“Magic is not something to romanticize,” the assassin said quietly, watching her face. “It's dangerous and unnatural. The world is better without it.”

If Sora could ignore his harsh tone, she could keep from trembling. “Magic is all but legend anyway,” she said stiffly. “It's been extinct since the War of the Races...if the War even happened. Who cares about it?” She shrugged. “Some people say that the races never existed.”

“And would you agree with them, after meeting Dorian?” the assassin asked.  It was a rhetorical question. “There are scattered bands of the other races still running around, hiding their identities from humans. You've probably met several and didn't know it.” He looked at her with a stern eye, eerily bright against the night. “Dorian is one of the very last of his kind.”

Sora was shocked, but tried not to show it. She clasped her hands instead, turning away from the assassin, staring determinedly at the trees. The bells chinked softly against her ears. Besides that, the woods were uncomfortably quiet.

She knew that Dorian had to be a Wolfy; his fangs and silver hair proved it. But she had always thought the races were only a myth, no more than fantastic stories from a long-forgotten age. And even if they had existed once, they had died out hundreds of years ago; great civilizations turned to ash. There were hardly any relics of that time left, only the barest ruins of ancient cities, of old temples and shrines, whose origins were highly disputed. It was a different world now.

But Dorian was a Wolfy. A true Wolfy.
With magic, at that!

Suddenly a howl split the air, causing the tiny blond hairs on Sora’s arms to rise. She looked at the trees in alarm until her view was blocked by the assassin. He stepped in front of her, shielding her from whatever was coming. He was half-crouched, a thin sword in hand, prepared to lunge at a second's notice.

There was a thrashing noise in the trees and Dorian appeared, his hand clamped to a wound on his side. She could see blood oozing between his fingers. Concerned, she took a step forward but was pushed back by Crash.

Her eyes returned to the trees. She could feel that there was something else coming, thundering in her ears, a sickening clench in her gut—
sleighbells.
The campsite suddenly filled with a repugnant smell, like rotted flesh.

Crash leapt forward just as a creature burst from the shadows. It was tall and bulky, twice the height of the assassin, with dangling arms, wide hands, thin bony fingers, vicious claws and rust-red fur matted with blood. Long yellow fangs protruded past its jaw. The being walked on its hind legs with a lurching gait, bent into an unnatural posture. Its face, which slightly resembled a fox, appeared slightly concave, as though it had been clubbed over the head.

Sora stared in horror. It was unlike anything she had ever seen before—
a monster?
She lost her balance, collapsing in panic.

Everything became a blur. Dorian was flung aside by the beast's massive, distorted claw.  It threw back its extended crooked neck and roared, shaking tree branches overhead; leaves rained down on them. Then it dove after the Wolfy with jaws the size of a bear trap.

Crash tried to deter the beast, swinging his narrow blade, but he, too, was easily swept aside by the giant claws. He narrowly dodged a blow, jumping and rolling, hitting the ground and then immediately recovering his stance. Sora thought Crash looked rather puny against the monster, which lumbered around their camp like a shaggy, red-fur mountain.

Suddenly, the assassin was by her side. She expected him to help her to her feet, to run—but instead, he grabbed her forcefully and hauled her up from the ground, pushing her in front of him like a shield. She gasped, her scream caught in her lungs, so panicked that she couldn't even order her limbs to obey.

The assassin shoved her, stumbling, straight into the path of the monster. Sora froze, off-balance, seeing only big, vicious teeth and hooked claws. The beast barreled toward her,  a nightmare of red fur and blazing yellow eyes, its wide-open mouth dripping with thick, acrid saliva....

The sound of bells exploded, overpowering, an ocean of noise that swept up into her body, pounding in her ears.

Something rose inside her, warm and steady and fluid, starting at the soles of her feet and going straight up to her neck. It swept her thoughts away, taking control. Her legs and hands stopped shaking. Her mouth closed.

She faced the beast, her fear snuffed out like a candle, and raised her arms to bar the creature from passing—or perhaps, to grasp it in a powerful embrace. She was defenseless, fully exposed, no shield but the air in her lungs.

Then, there was a flash of light. Green. Brilliant. Dazzling.

It split the sky like lightning, illuminating the gaps between the trees, easily penetrating the forest for perhaps a hundred yards. A dome of energy fell over the three travelers like a broad tent. Bolts of yellow electricity crashed down around them, striking the ground, scorching patches of grass.

The creature hit the shield and let out a screech of pain. There was a startling
snap!
A sizzling
pop!
Then a final, shocking flash of green light. Stars danced. Sora was momentarily blinded.

She collapsed on the ground. The dome dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. Her cheek hit the dirt. She felt as though she had run five miles straight without stopping. It was hard to breathe, to pull in enough air. She tried to put her hand on her chest, to understand what had happened, but her limbs were shaky and useless, as heavy as sand.

Finally, finally her eyes cleared. She was able to drag herself upward, as though moving through cold water. She struggled into a sitting position, as slow and clumsy as a tortoise. Her head buzzed, her ears were sore and ringing. Dazedly, she looked around for the monster.

Several yards away, a steaming pile of flesh smoldered on the ground. The mangled, burning corpse was much smaller than the actual creature had been, and she glanced around again, wondering where the monster had disappeared to. The remains looked far more like those of a fox or a badger, half-skinned, its neck broken, matted with blood. She stared at the sizzling body, trying to make sense of it, then slowly swooned and leaned to one side. Caught herself with her hands. Gagged.

She stayed like that for several minutes, emptying the contents of her stomach onto the ground until she could only dry-heave. No one moved. No one spoke. Finally, she looked up, wondering what had happened to her captors.

Both Crash and Dorian were staring at her, eyes wide and unreadable, obviously just as alarmed as she was. Crash was slightly crouched, his arm raised halfway, as though he had been shielding his eyes. Dorian was sprawled on his back, half-propped on an elbow, blood staining his shirt. Her gaze fell to the bloody wound at his hip, unable to hide her confusion. She had no explanation.
Were we struck by lightning?
was her first thought, and yet, there had been no rain. She glanced at the sky just to make certain. No, there were only tiny stars, winking secretively.

From the expressions on her companions' faces, she felt somehow responsible. But she had done nothing fantastical; there was no secret weapon, there were no tricks up her sleeve. She waited for them to speak, wondering what they might say, if they could tell her what had happened.

Suddenly she reached up to touch her mother’s necklace. It was warm and intact. A sense of relief filled her, and she let out a long, slow sigh. Good, it hadn't fallen off in the fight.

Then Crash crossed the campsite. His movements were swift and jerky. He reached down and grabbed her, his hand going to her neck with no warning. She abruptly remembered how he had thrown her into the fight, as good as monster chow, as a sacrifice in Dorian's place.
That bastard!
Was he going to strangle her now?

She opened her mouth to scream, but he caught the silver chain and pulled the necklace into the open.

“Then it's true,” he murmured, his eyes dark.

Sora began to tremble, recoiling from his touch. She didn’t like his hand on her necklace, although she wasn’t sure why. She would have knocked him away if she hadn't been so terrified. The assassin stared at her, his expression unreadable, then turned to Dorian. “She wears a Cat’s Eye,” he said. “Just as I thought.”

Dorian was still staring at her in shock. “A...a Cat's Eye?” he muttered, incredulous. “A real, authentic Cat's- Eye necklace? So then Volcrian sent that creature....”

“Yes. He’s found our trail.”

The two shared a meaningful look that Sora didn’t understand. At that moment, she felt more alone than ever, completely excluded from their conversation.
What the hell is going on?
There were too many secrets.

“All right,” she began, irritated. She got to her feet, crossing her arms. “I think I deserve an explanation. What are you two talking about? And what is
that?
” She pointed at the smoldering corpse with disgust.

“It's a dead animal,” Crash said bluntly.

“I can see that,” she snapped.

Dorian tried another answer. “It was transformed by blood-magic into a monster,” he offered. “When you killed it, it reverted to its natural form.”

“Oh,” and she raised an eyebrow. That made about as much sense as anything else. “Fair enough,” she said sarcastically. “And what about my necklace? What in hell just happened?”

The two looked at each other again. Neither seemed to want to speak. Finally, Dorian said, “It's a Cat's Eye.”

“A what?”

He sighed irritably. “Come now, sweetness, did you knock your head? You've read stories about the War of the Races. You've never heard of the Cat's-Eye necklaces?”

She stared blankly, her ears starting to ring again.

He sighed. “I guess not. Well, haven't you ever wondered about the War? How the humans killed off the races?”

In truth, she had not. Sora had enjoyed the stories of Kaelyn the Wanderer, but she had never truly lingered there. They were just stories, after all, not true history. And what did any of that have to do with her mother's necklace? A Cat's Eye? She put one hand on her head to stop the world from spinning. “What are you talking about?” she repeated.