When she stood upright, the Priestess was much shorter than Sora, which was a surprise. Her amplified voice made her seem like a giant, as though Sora was speaking to the real Goddess and not just an old woman.
The Priestess stood in the center of the chamber. “The sacred weapons have entered the world, and there is much to fear, young traveler. The Wolfy who summoned them may not understand what he has done, but there are people who have waited years for this opportunity... generations, even.” Her eyes turned to Crash, his presence icy in the shadows. “You would be familiar with this, Dark One. They are your creed, are they not?”
Sora turned to stare at Crash, surprised. What were they talking about?
The assassin was as blank as a stone wall, and stared back at the Priestess coldly. “No,” he said flatly. “Not my creed. But... I have heard rumors,” he finally replied. “They call themselves the Shade. A cult, if you will, existing in secret since before the War of the Races. They wish to harness the power of the Dark God.”
Sora frowned. “Really?” she asked, unable to keep the skepticism out of her voice. “Why didn't you tell me this?”
Crash shrugged. “It is only a rumor.”
The High Priestess spoke. “No, it is a reality,” she said. “Our Order has existed since before the War. So has the Shade, and so have many other things that have been forgotten by the human world, such as your Cat's Eye.” And then the Priestess said something almost identical to her mother. “It is a dangerous time that we live in. Very few know how to stop this curse.”
“But... do you?” Sora asked, turning away from Crash.
The Priestess nodded. It looked painful from her standing position, old and stooped. “Yes,” she murmured. “There has been a shift in the balance of things. This plague... it is unnatural. Magical, perhaps. And your Cat's Eye has proven useful against it. I have had visions of this. Your Cat's Eye will be instrumental in returning the dark weapons to their rightful place, back to the underworld. But first, you must destroy the one who has summoned them. It is the only way,” she said solemnly.
“Volcrian....” Sora murmured. She said the name softly, but it echoed around the room, as though the walls were laughing at her.
“He is slowly becoming a vessel for the Dark God's power, possessed by hatred and bloodlust. You must kill him,” the High Priestess said. “But that task grows harder each day. He is becoming something more than a simple mortal. You must lure him to the Lost Isles. Use the sacred, sacrificial stones of the Harpies to drain him of his life. Then, you must gather the weapons and destroy them.”
Sora was silent. She turned to look at Crash again. She didn't know why; he didn't offer any comfort, any sense of strength. But she needed time to gather her thoughts. This is crazy. It was too much. She could remember seeing the Lost Isles in her dreams, the sacred circle of stones. Her Cat's Eye had showed them to her.... But it still seemed like an indomitable task.
“How?” Sora asked. “How are we supposed to do this? We don't even have the other two weapons....”
“Then you must find them... or, actually, they will find you!” The High Priestess let out a strange, croaking laugh. “They are with the wraiths, of course, and I daresay they are hunting you. Not very smart creatures, but deadly. They will stumble across you eventually; you have only to wait and be seen. As for how to destroy the weapons... there is a sacred ground, not on the isle of the Harpies, but elsewhere. A Temple of the Dark God, long forgotten. You must find it. Perhaps the Harpies can help... but I have seen... I have seen someone else. Unexpected allies.”
The Priestess' voice was dropping. Sora got the impression that their visit was draining the old woman of her strength. “You can sit down...” she started to say.
But the High Priestess shook her head. “There is not much else to tell you, child. I am glad that you arrived here safely. The sorcerer follows you, dogs your steps. Use your Cat's Eye to kill the mage. Travel to the Lost Isles, to the sacred stones where the necklace will suck the life from him. Then destroy the weapons. This is what you must do.”
“And the Shade?” Sora asked.
The Priestess nodded slowly, meditatively. “Hmmm. Yes, they seek the weapons. They are drawn to them. But I think... perhaps... you have a protector.” Her eyes traveled to Crash again.
Sora turned to look at the assassin. He didn't meet her eyes, but kept them trained on the Priestess. A protector? Damned unlikely.... She had spent the last year training with her mother; she could protect herself.
But she wondered what Crash knew, what he was keeping from her. Perhaps nothing at all, and yet... he had known about the Shade, and he wouldn't meet her eyes now. He had told her nothing up to this point. She wondered how he knew about the Shade; whether he had dealt with them before. Dark One. Could she trust him?
She had traveled for weeks, expecting him to help her... but on second thought, she hardly knew him.
“If that is all,” the Priestess said, “I must be excused. I rarely take audiences this late in the day, and, as mundane as it might sound, it is my suppertime. We have food and shelter for travelers. You may stay as long as you wish... but remember, time is of the essence.” She ended her words with a brief, careful nod. Sora got the vague impression that she was smiling, though it was impossible to tell behind her blue veil. Then the Priestess turned and walked slowly toward the opposite side of the room, where a separate door stood behind a low curtain.
Sensing they had been dismissed, Sora turned and headed back the way they had come, toward the spiral staircase. She passed Crash swiftly, barely sparing him a glance. She wasn't sure what she had expected from the meeting... but this wasn't it.
She dashed down the stairs, suddenly distraught. Journey to the Lost Isles? Destroy Volcrian? Use the Cat's Eye... perhaps at the cost of her own life?
It suddenly seemed a little much.
“Sora,” Crash said from behind her, but she only walked faster. She wanted to get out of the Temple, out into clear air where her thoughts were less muddled. Her head swam from all of the information, and she touched her Cat's Eye, trying to steady herself.
“Sora!” he called more firmly.
No, she didn't care. She went down the stairs, out the door and into the courtyard in under a minute. She didn't know where she was going, just that she needed to think, to gather herself. Anxiety twisted in her gut. What have I gotten myself into? The presence of the hilt seemed twice as heavy in her bag, weighing against her arm.
“Sora!” A hand grabbed her shoulder. She turned, using one of her mother's tricks to slip from Crash's grasp. But he countered it and grabbed her again, this time in an unbreakable hold. “Stop. Be calm.”
“Calm?” she demanded. They had paused under a low tree, heavy with lemons. “Calm? Are you deaf? Did you hear any of that?” Her hands were shaking. Dammit. She dropped the satchel to the ground. “What am I even doing here? Better yet, what are you doing here? You know more than I do, but you didn't say a thing! Are you here to help me or to spy on me? What is the Shade?”
Crash rolled his eyes. “It's just a story. Where I grew up, they were more of a legend, something our Grandmasters spoke of. You shouldn't believe everything that old witch tells you. She's a Priestess, not a Goddess. Her visions are just as accurate—and just as interpretable—as your own!”
Sora shook her head. “I don't know what I'm doing.”
“Maybe. But we still have to do it.”
She glared at him. He was evading her question, as usual. “Why are you here, Crash?”
He didn't answer immediately. He looked down at her instead, silent, thoughtful. She became trapped by his gaze; his roguish, handsome face. It had always reminded her of a wolf or a jackal, something predatory.
“Because....” he said slowly. “This is my fault.”
She waited for more, but he didn't say anything else. His fault? She finally frowned. “It's Volcrian's fault,” she grunted. “But all right, I can see your point.”
Maybe the man had a conscience after all.
Then, surprisingly, Crash threw back his head and laughed. It was a short, biting sound, not entirely humorous. “I've been running for some time,” he said quietly. “For a long time, actually, though not always from Volcrian. I need to face what I've done.”
She didn't know what to say about that. What I've done. And what was that, exactly? It seemed he was talking about more than just Volcrian's brother. She let out a long, slow breath, her thoughts racing. What about before that? What kind of life had he lived? And where was he going now?
That's it. He's just... going, with no real direction, and somehow she had gotten swept up in his wake. Did she regret it?
“Hey!” a voice called suddenly. “What'cha guys doing?”
Sora turned to see Laina and Burn walking towards them. The two were loaded down with trays of food. Laina had a huge grin on her small, mousy face; she was even chewing a piece of cheese. “The spread is delicious!” she shouted. “And fresh! They killed the chickens just this afternoon!”
Sora sighed. After meeting with the Priestess, the last thing on her mind was food, but she knew she had to eat. And eating was better than thinking about their conversation, the road ahead and the massive burden dumped on her shoulders. All because of a Cat's-Eye necklace. Talk about being in the wrong place at the wrong time. She wanted to journey, to explore... but to save the kingdom?
And no one even knew the plague was real....
She shared one last glance with Crash, then picked up her satchel and started toward her companions.
Chapter 8
After filling in Burn and Laina on what they had learned from the Priestess, they all decided to head to the port city of Delbar, where hopefully they could book passage to the Lost Isles.
“But isn't that a legend?” Laina had asked, bouncing up and down on her cot in the dormitory. “I mean... what ship actually travels that far?”
“The one we pay for,” Crash grunted.
They awoke early the next morning. Sora was eager to get on the road. They restocked their horses with provisions and snuck out of the city on back streets, avoiding the main thoroughfare, where some farmers were still keeping an eye out for the girl with the “healing touch.” Then they continued through the lowlands, traveling between the subtle hills, doubled up on the beasts. The grass was bent and windswept, and slowly the sound of bells faded behind them. The tower of the Goddess disappeared, along with all hint of civilization. No roads. No houses. Only the hot, open landscape.
Burn walked next to Laina’s horse after a few hours, giving the beast a rest. Sora once again found herself in the saddle with Crash. I wish I could have a horse of my own, she thought, eyeing Laina's steed enviously. And why does he always get to ride in the front?
Burn and Laina chatted away happily. The girl’s shrill laugh could be heard every couple of minutes, along with Burn’s deep chuckle. Sora wondered how he could stand her.
“He used to have kids,” Crash murmured, as though reading her thoughts.
Sora blinked, surprised by this. Burn had never mentioned anything about children on their previous travels, and she hadn't thought to ask.
“Used to? What...?” The statement slowly sank in. “What happened?”
“Killed,” Crash said. “By Volcrian.”
Sora went pale. Her stomach turned over. She didn't want to know any of the details—she would ask Burn himself when they got a moment alone. Perhaps that's why he travels with Crash, she thought, wondering about their strange alliance. One would think that the Wolfies would support each other, with so few left in the world. Burn and Volcrian were the last ones now, supposedly. She had heard it from his own mouth. Dorian would have made three, but he was gone.... She got the sudden, distinct feeling that dirt was sticking between her fingers, and she wiped her hands on her pants.
A bead of sweat dripped from her forehead and trickled down her nose, where it hung for a moment before continuing its downward journey under her shirt. She stretched her cramped back and glanced over her shoulder at Laina and Burn, just as the giant mercenary pointed to the grass.
"There, did you see that movement? That's a field mouse scampering about. We've eaten one or two of those little buggers before. Isn't that right, Crash? They tend to be bony though juicy, if you can find a fat one."
"How can you see so well?” Laina exclaimed. “That's amazing!"
"It's not truly the eyes. I usually hear them long before I can see anything," Burn explained.
Sora sighed, tired of their chatter. She looked behind them at the long trail they had left through the high grass. A breeze blew across, causing the grass to shine and bend in a wavelike pattern.
She frowned, sensing a twinge from her Cat's Eye, and sat up a little straighter. Looking around, she saw nothing but grass, although she had felt a brush of warning, heard a vague chiming. Perhaps it was just the clink of the saddles. She shifted again. Was it her Cat's Eye, or Laina's laughter ringing in her ears? She ran her hand through her hair. Maybe it was just a headache.
No, more than that. Something wasn't quite right about the rolling plains, and she was growing alarmed. Crash seemed to sense it, too. He stiffened in front of her, and she noticed his hand hovering close to his sword. Even the horse was slowing down, its steps becoming more hesitant. Over the assassin's shoulder, she could see the steed's ears flicker.
“What is it?” she murmured into Crash’s ear.
“Quiet,” he breathed back, turning his head slightly toward her. She pulled back right before they bumped cheeks, strangely flustered. He’s still treating me like a beginner. Didn’t I just beat him to the ground a few days ago?
The horse abruptly shifted beneath them, letting out a short whinny of alarm as it half-reared, lunging forward.
Then the ground moved.
Sora grabbed the saddle with a yelp. She tried to stay on, really she did—but it was impossible. A second later, the earth gave out under them.
She tipped out of the saddle. The horse managed to propel itself forward, dashing away from the hole, but Sora wasn't as lucky. She fell into the caving dirt. Rocks and grass gave way beneath her, and she heard the snap of branches.
It was a trap, it had to be, a pitfall cunningly disguised in the grass. She threw her arms over her head, pelted by a shower of rocks. She landed hard, the wind knocked out of her. She could hear Laina’s voice—and then lots of people shouting.
When she finally regained her breath, Sora wiped dirt from her face and looked up at the cloudless blue sky. She could hear the cries of battle and the clanging of swords. What was going on? She had to marvel at the skilled person who had set the trap. She was surrounded by snapped branches that had been woven into a strong mat covered in dirt and rocks.
She used the wall of the hole to help herself stand up, wincing from her bruised rump. Then she looked for a way out. She was desperate to see what was happening, but the hole was perhaps ten feet deep. It sounded like an outright war up there. She could hear Burn's battle cry, an unmistakable howl, followed shortly by a very human scream.
Her thoughts first went to Crash, but he would probably be the last person to scream. Then she thought of Laina. Her heart leapt to her throat and she tried to scramble up one of the walls, but the dirt gave way under her hands. Who was attacking?
And then she realized—the Ravens!
Had to be. She wanted to kick herself. Since meeting with the Priestess, she had completely forgotten about them. They were the masters of this territory; she couldn't imagine who else would be able to disguise such a trap. Volcrian had more direct means.
"Laina! Hang on!" she yelled. Another scream, definitely the voice of a young girl, ripped through the air.
There was another roar in response. That was Burn. She could never mistake his voice; he sounded absolutely furious. She had to find a way out! Placing her back against the side of the pit, Sora looked at its depth and width. Altogether, she guessed she had
about a dozen feet to maneuver in, and a good distance to jump.
She unslung her staff from her back. Although she hadn't tried anything like this before, there was no time to waste. Steeling her nerves, she launched into a run, sprinting at top speed. As the distance closed, she brought her staff down into the corner of the wall and catapulted herself into the air.
Because she was so light, Sora wound up vaulting much higher than she had anticipated. She overshot the ground and flew through the air, lifting her staff over her head to keep balance. Then she got a quick look at her surroundings. The Ravens were everywhere, dirty mercenaries dressed in bits and pieces of mismatched armor, darting around like flies.
She landed near Burn, who swung his sword back and forth, but the giant blade was too big for close combat; it was like trying to kill gnats with a hammer. Crash was somewhere to her right, having abandoned the horse, his dagger flashing and zipping through the air. He had already laid out two bandits, but there were countless more, buzzing around on every side.
But where was Laina? Sora brought her staff around, smashing it into the head of one of the Ravens. Then she turned, looking for the girl, her eyes scanning the tall grass. There were too many foes... and Laina had disappeared.
“Sora!” she suddenly heard, a bare snatch of a cry on the wind. “Someone help!”
With a few swift jabs, she broke loose from the mob of outlaws and charged through the long grass, certain she had heard Laina's voice. Now she could see a trail through the grass where a body had been dragged. Burn's roar split her ears and she hurried, knowing that the fight would soon be over and the Ravens would regroup somewhere else.
Her clothes gave her no camouflage against the tall yellow weeds, but no one followed her. Soon the sounds of battle were remote. She could see signs that Laina had been pulled through the area, threads of her clothing and footprints in the loose dirt, and so she continued on course, following the crushed grass. Sweat dripped down her face and stung her eyes, an irritating distraction. It’s horribly hot for spring, she thought, wishing a cloud would pass overhead. The glaring light made it hard to see.