Volcrian's Hunt (The Cat's Eye Chronicles)
Sora knelt before it curiously, brushing some of the dirt from its face.
“What is it?” Laina asked, staring at the tarnished surface.
“It looks like a sign...” Sora murmured, tilting her head to one side. It reminded her of the plaque outside the courthouse near her mother's town. A large brass piece, fitted into the rock with thick bolts.
Laina nodded. “There's writing on it. I don't know the language.”
Sora squinted. Despite the years of age and wear, she could make out vague letters embedded in the metal, carved by a chisel. She brushed at the dirt again, chipping away the stubborn flakes with her nails. It certainly looked like writing, but the letters were strange, oddly shaped, almost like backward numbers or occult symbols.
A shadow fell over her. She instinctively knew it was Crash. She glanced up at the assassin. “What do you think?” she asked. A few of the Dracians appeared behind him, gazing curiously at the rock. Burn approached and stood at the rear. He could see easily over the group from his great height.
Crash gazed at the metal plate for a long moment, frowning. “It's written in the Old Tongue,” he finally said, “the original language of the world.”
“Can you read it?” she asked.
He nodded slowly. “Part of it has been rubbed out.”
The Dracians huddled in closer. They all looked at the lettering and a few nodded. “That's the Old Tongue all right,” Joan said. “I can only recognize a few of the symbols. There's a 'C' and a 'D.'”
“No,” Burn said from above them. “It's a 'V.' The sign reads Cavnea Sheen Len. 'The Crystal Caves,' or, more literally, 'The Shining Caverns.'”
Sora wasn't surprised that her friend could read the language. Burn had admitted to being a scholar before he had taken to the mercenary life. “The Crystal Caves?” she echoed. It sounded familiar. Where had she heard that name before?
“Yeah, it does seem to say that,” Jacques agreed. “That's strange. Were they mining for diamonds?”
“No, not diamonds,” Crash interjected.
The group paused, turning to look at the assassin. He raised an eyebrow. “The Crystal Caves were mined during the War of the Races. The Harpies gathered sunstones from their depths.”
“Oh!” Laina said loudly, interrupting the dark man. Crash gave her a frown, but she ignored him, turning to the rest of the group. She clapped her hands, excited. “I know this! My grandmother told me about it. The caves are legendary! The sunstones were used to bind the sixth race and imprison them with Light.” She laughed. “And to think, we're actually here at the mouth of the cave!”
Sora rolled her eyes. Laina had mentioned her grandmother's stories before, but they weren't accurate. There was no sixth race of darkness. When the Elements had combined to create the races, the Dark had been shunned, feared for its unknowable depths. There had been no offspring.
“That's not all they mined,” Burn rumbled.
Sora met his eyes, curious. The Crystal Caves. She had heard that name before. It tickled the recesses of her memory, something she had read in a book long ago, perhaps one of the stories of Kaelyn the Wanderer.
“Well?” Jacques prompted. “Out with it, man!”
“The Cat's Eye,” Burn said. “This is where the Cat's-Eye stones were discovered. When humans were enslaved by the Harpies during the War, many were used as miners. They uncovered the Cat's Eye deep beneath the ocean. That's when they rebelled and the tide of the War changed.”
Sora inhaled sharply. Yes, she remembered now. Not the story of Kaelyn, but another woman, a rebel during the time of the Saddened, the darkest period of human history. The woman had discovered the Cat's Eye, gathered an army and spread the secret weapon across the coast.
“Here?” she asked, bewildered. Perhaps this was the very site where the rebellion had started. It would certainly explain the burned buildings. Her imagination ran wild, issuing visions of the past, of soot-faced humans and magical, glowing Harpies—and of course, the Cat's Eye stones.
She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She felt as though she had stepped into an old legend, straight out of a history book. “Here is where they mined the first Cat's Eye?” she repeated.
Burn nodded. “It must be,” he said. “I don't know of any other cave by this name.”
“My grandmother told me that the mines were destroyed when Aerobourne crashed into the sea,” Laina said softly, interrupting the stunned silence. “Once Aerobourne started to fall, the Harpies maneuvered it on top of the Crystal Caves. They wanted to cut off all access to the stones, but it didn't quite work out that way.”
Burn nodded. “As I recall, after Aerobourne fell, the humans used the mining caves to dig under the Harpy city of Asterion. They infiltrated from within.”
Laina shrugged. “Well, I don't see any cities around here.”
“Your grandmother knew an awful lot about the Harpies,” Joan interrupted, giving the girl a skeptical look.
Laina blushed and turned her eyes away. “She knew all sorts of stories,” she mumbled, perhaps embarrassed. Sora wondered at her response; Laina seemed troubled by the mention of her grandmother. The woman had died when Laina was ten, leaving her orphaned and homeless.
“There's a chance,” Burn continued, “that this could be an auxiliary mine, used to gain access to Aerobourne. Perhaps if we follow these caves, we will arrive on the mainland of the Lost Isles.”
“That's a very big if,” Jacques muttered.
They all stood in silence, absorbing the information. Sora turned back and looked at the cave's entrance. It was pitch black against the afternoon light, the sun hesitating at its mouth, as though frightened of its depths. For a moment, she imagined that this was the empty eye socket of a giant skull, staring blindly out at the world.
Then she breathed a slow sigh of amazement. The original source of the Cat's Eye. She touched the necklace under her shirt, deep in thought, and was surprised to feel a small stirring in response. Suddenly, inexplicably, Sora was convinced that it was true. She felt certain of it. Her necklace had a way of communicating with her mind, sharing its soundless knowledge. Yes, she felt. And abruptly she became aware of the age of the stone, how long it must have been part of the world, wedged in some unseen cavern perhaps miles beneath the ocean. This way.
“He's right,” she said suddenly. The group turned to her. She continued to gaze at the mine shaft, unmoved. “Burn is right. I know it.”
“How can you be so certain?” Jacques asked.
“My necklace....” Sora's voice faded. No words could describe the feeling inside her. Suddenly she couldn't look away from the cave entrance, enraptured, spellbound. The great, gaping socket stared directly back at her, an unseen force in the darkness, beckoning silently. This way. The wind moaned, riffling through the trees in a sudden gust, as though trying to murmur the words. Her skin tingled. Magnetism.
She had to enter the cave.
“Jacques,” Burn said suddenly, interrupting Sora's thoughts. “How are your wings?”
The Dracian frowned, surprised by the change of topic. “Fine,” he said, tilting his head to one side.
“What do you think of flying back to the mainland?” Burn asked. “Could you do it?”
Jacques stared at the giant Wolfy. The rest of the crew turned to look at Burn with him, confused. For a moment, it seemed that Jacques would rebuke the idea, a troubled frown coming over his face. Then he brightened a bit and raised one eyebrow. “Actually,” he said, “the thought has crossed my mind. I could probably make it. Using magic, of course.”
Burn nodded, his eyes darting around the other Dracians. “Perhaps your people can set up a permanent camp in town,” he said slowly. “Would you be able to fly back to the mainland and bring another ship to our aid?”
Jacques cocked his head to one side again, rubbing his chin. “I do know someone....” he said slowly.
“At the very least, bring back a ship to rescue your crew. You want to sa
ve their lives...right?”
Jacques nodded, though he didn't look convinced. “I will certainly try,” he said grimly. “Even if I have to steal a damned boat.”
Burn smiled at that. “Good,” he said. “After you rescue your crew from this island, you can meet us to the north, where the main island sits. If all goes well, we will need a way to return home.”
Sora's eyes widened, realizing Burn's plan. Good thinking, she thought in silent approval. It certainly solved one of their problems—getting home after this venture.
Jacques looked uncertain at this. He fidgeted for a moment. His pet crow landed on a nearby tree branch, squawking and fussing, as though echoing his thoughts. “'Tis an awfully long journey,” he murmured. “And returning to these isles will be dangerous.”
Burn took a step forward. Leaves crunched beneath his boots. His sheer size was intimidating, like a bear looming between the trees. “Aye,” he said. “But not as dangerous as the plague that is spreading. We are all doomed if we can't lift this curse.” He glared.
Sora shared a glance with Laina. She had never seen Burn look so threatening. Despite his size, he had always seemed a gentle, civilized giant.
Jacques paled for a moment. His eyes went from Burn to Crash, who was also staring with keen intensity. The three men were silent, the tension building amongst them. Then the Dracian put up his hands. A strained grin lit up his face. “Well played, Wolfy,” he said. “I'll return for you. On my honor.”
“On your life,” Burn corrected.
Jacques swallowed, his smile tightening. Then the Dracian stuck out his hand and Burn clamped down on it, a fierce handshake. After a short struggle, Jacques wrenched his hand back.
“Ow,” he groaned, flexing his fingers. “You don't have to break them!”
“My apologies,” Burn replied, though his tone wasn't very sincere.
Jacques let out a long breath, then gazed up at the sky, as though appealing to a silent god. He turned to his crew. “Hear that, lads? You'll have to set up camp here for a while until I return with a boat.”
The Dracians nodded and began to speak quietly amongst themselves. Sora listened to their banter with half an ear. They were deciding how to set up camp amidst the old buildings. There would be fresh water and enough game to live off of. As they spoke, they slowly filed away back down the mining tracks, seeming relieved to be departing from the caves.
“Dracians don't do well underground,” Crash said, watching them go. “They are creatures of Wind and Fire. They don't like enclosed spaces.”
Sora looked at him, a teasing smile on her lips. “I'm sure you will be perfectly comfortable, then,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “You seem to like the dark.”
Crash didn't respond to her humor. His eyes lingered on the mouth of the cave. “But not Harpies,” he murmured.
Sora frowned. She had noticed Crash's dislike for them before. Every time the Harpy race was mentioned, he either grimaced or turned away. She had to wonder at that. A bad experience? Or just prejudice? Then her skin prickled and a wave of excitement passed through her. Harpies. By the end of this journey, she would finally meet the race of Wind and Light. And to think, only two years ago I thought they were all extinct!
Finally the Dracians were gone. Jacques went into the bushes to remove his clothes. The crow followed him, hopping from branch to branch, watching with keen interest. There was a shimmer of light between the trees, more forceful than daylight, causing Sora to squint. She could hear the crow cawing and flapping before it took off through the branches, flying swiftly away.
Jacques emerged in his reptilian form, his skin covered in brilliant gold scales, like a thousand small pebbles all knit perfectly together. Sora stared; he looked much different from Joan, when she had transformed underwater. He was taller, more muscular, though he still stood like a man. His wings were a vibrant, rich honey-yellow color, opaque in the sunlight and webbed like a giant bat. His face resembled a human, soft and smooth, the facial skin stretched tightly across his nose, which widened toward the base in a slight muzzle. His ears receded back into a perfectly round skull.
“'Til next we meet,” he said, nodding to Burn and Sora. He turned away, his scales shimmering in the sunlight. A powerful gust of wind blew in from the south, and he opened his wings, stretching them to a grand length of almost fifteen feet. With a few quick moves, he leapt off the ground and into the air. The wind seemed to billow beneath him, carrying him upward at an impossible rate. Sora heard a slight jingling in her ears, the subtle ring of sleigh bells. Her Cat's Eye's warning. Magic. Jacques had the particular ability to control the wind, and he was carried above the trees, past the jungle toward the coast. Within minutes, he was gone.
The four travelers stood in front of the cave mouth and looked into its depths. Laina shifted nervously, glancing around with cautious eyes. Sora knew that the young girl was afraid; it was only natural. She wished she could be afraid too. But the Cat's Eye surged as she stared at the tunnel, filling her with strange excitement.
She observed her other two companions. Burn shifted the bag of supplies on his shoulder; he seemed full of trepidation, while Crash was as stoic as ever.
She took a step forward, impatient. Yes. This way.
They all started down the tunnel, tense with nerves. No one said a word.
* * *
The caves were dark, and the path steep. The four travelers followed the main mining shaft, ignoring the smaller tunnels that cut into the rock. They were careful not to trip over the tracks. Crash had brought several large branches with him, and he struck stone to flint, lighting a torch. The flame glittered off the side of the walls, catching tiny fragments of quartz and granite. Every now and then, they passed large iron wall sconces, where miners had once burned lanterns or oilcloth.
It was cold underground, and Sora found herself rubbing her arms, staving off the chill. The mouth of the cave became quickly invisible, lost in the earth. She tried not to glance over her shoulder at the darkness behind them. Distant sounds reached her ears: the vague drip of water, the disconcerting scratch of rocks. Pebbles falling. Rodents scurrying away from their torchlight.
After a while, Laina took her hand. The young girl was trembling. Sora wondered if they should have left her with the Dracians; perhaps it would have been a good idea. It hadn't occurred to her at the time; she had been too entranced with the caves. Too late to send her back now, she reasoned. They had come this far—she didn't want to turn back.
No one spoke. It was impossible to gauge how much time had passed. After a long while, the slope of the caves evened out, flattening and widening into small chamber-like caverns. The tracks came to an end, giving way to smooth rock. They passed another pile of mining carts in astonishingly good condition, protected from the elements. All were empty.
Crash lit a second torch. The flames revealed high domed ceilings, stretching up into the earth. Lava rock framed the walls, a smooth tan color. Stalagmites clung to the shadows, still dripping with water. The light danced off the irregular surfaces, casting oblong shadows, as though the rock itself was moving.
They passed through countless earthen chambers, strung together like beads on a necklace. Crash took the lead with the torch, following the path that the miners had made. There were still hooks embedded in the rock, places where they had once tied ropes or chains. She wondered how many men had worked these tunnels—how many Harpies had watched over them, overseeing the slaves, carrying whips and clubs, punishing them. How many had died under these conditions? A chill moved through her at the thought. The Harpies were said to be the First Race, the most advanced at the time of the War. And, in her mind, perhaps the most ruthless.
Then, suddenly, Crash came to a stop. Sora almost stumbled into his back.
"What? What is it?" Laina asked nervously.
Crash cursed under his breath. Burn left his place in the rear and edged around them, looking over the assassin's head. He pointed at the far wal
l. “Is that a door?” he finally asked.
“It looks like one,” Crash replied, then continued forward, raising the torch high. Sora craned her neck to see around the two men.
The final cavern was smooth and carved, chiseled out by hand. At its far side was, indeed, a door. A tall, granite double-door with odd carvings and runes etched into its face. Sora and Crash approached it slowly, holding the torch high, examining its surface. She couldn't read the language—perhaps it was the Old Tongue like the template outside. Some of the runes resembled trees or stars, curling upward in a clumsy mosaic. There was an especially large drawing toward the bottom that looked like an animal. She recognized four legs and a long, curved back.
Crash passed the torch to Burn, then turned back to the door. He ran a hand over its surface. It was in perfect condition, untouched by time, as smooth as the day it had been created.
"It's written in the Old Tongue," he murmured.
“What does it say?” Sora asked. At Crash's silence, she turned to look at Burn. “Can you read it?”
The large Wolfy was gazing at the scripture. “Some of it is the Harpy language,” he said. “I can't read all of it.” He walked to the base of the door and brushed some of the dust from its surface. "The War is won, and we have sealed this door," he murmured. “Only a bearer can lift the ward.” He continued to frown, his eyes searching the letters. “Beware the garrolithe.”
“Garrolithe?” Sora echoed. She turned to look at Burn. “What's that?”
Burn shrugged uncomfortably. “I don't know.”
Sora blinked. They stood in silence, staring at the door. No one moved.
"Now what?" Laina finally asked. Her voice echoed around the chamber, small and thin.
“We have to open the door somehow,” Sora said. She gnawed her lip in thought, stepping back, gazing up at the giant portal. The doors were almost three times her height. She couldn't imagine opening them by force.
“They must have sealed the Cat's Eye away,” Crash spoke. The volume of his voice was unexpected. Sora realized that they had all been whispering, as though they didn't want to be overheard.