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

  “Where?” she asked instead.

  Caprion frowned. He looked like he wasn't used to being questioned. “I'm going to show you the city,” he said.

  Sora's eyes narrowed. She didn't trust this man, not in the least. He wanted to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't cause any mischief. But why not just station extra guards at her door? What game was he playing at?

  “Fine,” Sora said resignedly. She briefly checked herself, making sure she had all her belongings. Her staff, daggers, and the extra Cat's Eye folded in cloth, shoved in her pocket....

  Then she followed Caprion into the hallway. He glided in front of her, covering far more ground than his steps should allow. Sora had to walk swiftly to keep up with him. Two guards stood in the foyer below and saluted him as he passed, lowering their eyes in respect. He ignored them.

  Once they were outside, Sora watched as he raised his right hand, creating the same signs as he had before. She saw the soft glow surround her body. “Where are we going?” she asked. This time when he lifted her into the air, it was far less shocking. He hovered next to her, flying effortlessly through the night, his wings still invisible.

  “To Asterion's eastern district,” he explained. “There is something I would like you to see.”

  Sora didn't know what to say to that.

  The two landed a few kilometers away. The trees slowly fell back beneath them, becoming more widely spaced, until she could see the buildings of the city easily. Towering structures, stretching up and up, crossed by white limestone bridges and buttresses. Their windows were the same as the small domed building where she was staying: large and oval-shaped, capturing the very last rays of the sinking sun and turning the light into rainbow hues.

  The pair set down in an empty market square. Sora looked up at the massive buildings that were far larger than anything on the mainland, stretching five or six stories or more. They resembled tall spears jutting from the ground, with spiraling towers and domed peaks, balconies upon balconies on each floor. The walls were inlaid with stone murals, patterns and filigree. None of the buildings had doors, she noticed. All of entryways were tall stone arches that opened onto the ground floors. Some were obscured by hanging beads or mats.

  Limestone blocks paved the ground beneath her. Just like the riverside garden, almost half the blocks were broken and splintered. Weeds and grass grew up through narrow crevices. Wild ivy had taken root, climbing over porch steps and tall pillars, scaling the architecture. The great walls looked chipped and worn, slowly crumbling before the elements.

  Everything had a sense of age and silence, as though she stood amidst a lost and abandoned city.

  “Where is everyone?” she couldn't help but ask.

  “This is the business quarter,” Caprion explained. He stood in the center of the market square, watching her closely. “Everyone has gone home for the day. Before the Great Fall, this city was one of the largest in existence. Shop owners would live above their businesses, crammed on top of each other.” He nodded to the darkened windows of the upper stories. They looked dirty and unused. “Our population has dwindled over the years. Now there are more than enough dwellings to choose from.”

  Sora nodded. Why is he telling me this? She gazed at the hollow courtyard, the haunted windows of the empty buildings. The shadows were slowly lengthening on the walls, the sun crawling ever- lower in the sky. It was eerily quiet.

  “Come,” he said, and strode away toward a narrow alley that led between the buildings. Sora hesitated, glancing around once again. She had no choice. She had to follow him.

  They traveled up the alley, through closely packed storefronts, half of them abandoned. Some looked like they hadn't been used in years, their doors smothered in cobwebs and ivy. She followed Caprion over piles of rubble and clumps of ferns that sprouted up from the ruined sidewalk. It felt like the forest was slowly invading the city, spreading into every corner. Within another hundred years, she could imagine the entire city being overtaken by dandelions and scrub brush.

  Eventually they left the compact business quarter and entered a stretch of forest, following the paved pathway that curved slightly upward. Sora saw evidence of benches and tables, half-buried under moss. Perhaps long ago this had been another courtyard, a beautiful outdoor cafe or a public park, where citizens would sit and enjoy the midday sun.

  The pathway connected with a wide thoroughfare at the base of a giant hill. The forest fell back behind them and the hillside curled at their feet, rolling into the air, stretching up and up, covered by tall dry grass. Sora leaned back, impressed by its height. The hillside dwarfed the surrounding countryside like a giant's grave, higher than even the buildings of Asterion and almost a mile across.

  This new road could fit several wagons side-by-side. Lining the street was a series of tall statues, each larger than life. Caprion led her around the base of the hill, following the road. They passed the statues slowly, giving her time to observe each one. All were Harpies with grand wings, either carrying swords, scrolls or books. Some of the Harpies had two or three sets of wings lining their backs. These statues were always dressed in elaborate armor and carried fierce weapons, swords of fire or massive war hammers—albeit of stone.

  They reached the end of the series of statues. The road continued, winding up the hill out of sight. The stars had come out, glinting in the darkness, the only source of light other than the strange glow that emanated from Caprion's skin. Toward the top of the hill, she saw what looked like a temple, now just a vague mound in the darkness.

  “Where are we?” she finally asked, turning to her escort.

  He was watching her again. “This is the Road of Remnants,” he said quietly. “And beyond this is the Singing Chamber.”

  “The Singing Chamber?”

  “Yes.” Caprion turned away, looking toward the top of the hill. “It is a deep bowl in the earth, carved from a bed of sunstone. Young Harpies go there to find their wings.”

  “Find their...?” Sora frowned, unsure if she understood.

  Caprion continued. “We are born of Wind and Light. All Harpies have powerful voices from the moment we are born. But to truly unlock our magic, we must find our stars.” His eyes looked to the sky, the star-strewn blanket above them. “We cast our voices far out into the heavens...and hope that one day, our star sings back. When we find it, then our wings emerge and we are able to harness the full power of Light.”

  Sora frowned even more. “So not all Harpies have wings?” she asked, eyeing his back.

  He shook his head. “No, not all. It is a terrible thing for a Harpy to have no wings.”

  Sora nodded, absorbing this fact. Then she asked the question that had been on the tip of her tongue. “Do you have wings?” she asked.

  Caprion turned to look at her, a glimmer of surprise on his face. “Of course,” he said. Then his look slowly melted into a mischievous smile. Sora felt her heart begin to pound. Beautiful. It seemed unfair that one of the races should be so damned pretty.

  “Would you like to see my wings?” he asked quietly.

  Sora paused, glancing around nervously, wondering if this was some sort of trap. Just what were they doing out here, all alone? Why had he brought her to this place? Had the Matriarch ordered it? Was it some elaborate ploy so she would reveal her Cat's Eye?

  Yet she had the feeling that this was a rare opportunity. That he didn't offer the sight of his wings to just anyone....

  “Yes,” she finally replied.

  “I can't show you their full intensity,” he explained. “The light would blind you.”

  Sora nodded.

  Caprion closed his eyes, raising one hand before his chest in a half-prayer. Immediately, the air shimmered behind him.

  A mantle of light appeared across his shoulders. She saw the shape of giant wings unfurl from his back. She clenched her fists, amazed at their size. The wings took up the entire width of the road, similar to the Matriarch's.

  Then another set of
wings began to unfurl, and Sora took a step back, pressing a hand to her mouth. They were shorter, smaller and translucent, more like the impression of wings. After a minute, she counted as many as six protruding from his back. Then she had to turn her face slightly away, raising her hand to shield her eyes. It was too bright. She felt heat against her skin, similar to a sunburn.

  By the North Wind! How many were there? Six? Eight?

  Her Cat's Eye finally responded. It jingled fiercely, tightening in her chest, prepared to defend against a magical attack. Sora put her hand on the gem unconsciously, pressing the stone through her shirt, trying to calm herself. Caprion's wings were beautiful, yes, like staring into the depths of a star, yet they also terrified her.

  “A...seraphim....” she murmured.

  “We are born purely for war,” Caprion explained.

  Sora continued to avert her eyes. This was a seraphim? She suddenly imagined the floating island of Aerobourne from so many centuries ago, the intense magic that had lifted the island from the ground, and the flying warriors, like shards of starlight come to life, that had guarded this city. How had anyone ever fought against this race? How had the humans ever won? It seemed absurd. An entire army...with this power....

  Slowly the light faded and the wings became a vague shimmer on his back, then silhouettes, then they were gone. His voice returned to normal as well, no longer striking her like a bell. “Do not be afraid,” he said quietly. “I did not bring you here to harm you.”

  “Then...then why?” Sora asked. “Why did you bring me here?”

  “I wanted you to see the ruins of our city,” Caprion replied. “I wanted you to understand what has happened to our race.”

  Sora stared at him suspiciously. “Why?” she asked again.

  “Believe it or not,” he said, “you are the first human I have ever met. You also strike me as someone who might understand what I have shown you.”

  Sora was surprised by his words. She had been so caught in the foreign majesty of this place, that she hadn't realized how out-of-place she must seem. Humans were so common...how could she possibly be the first he had met?

  She considered his words and glanced over her shoulder, back to the ruined spires of the city. “And what have you shown me? An abandoned marketplace?” she asked.

  “A ruined people,” he corrected.

  “You don't seem all that ruined to me,” she said skeptically, thinking back on the Matriarch.

  “The Harpy race is proud...but we are dying,” Caprion said. “Every generation is smaller than the last. Our numbers are dwindling on this island. That is why we do not rebuild our city. There is already too much space for us.”

  Sora nodded at this. It made sense, but she still didn't understand what he wanted from her. Perhaps the reaction showed on her face, because he glanced away, as though self-conscious. A cloud suddenly shifted across the moon, casting his face in half-shadow. “I want to leave this island,” he said simply.

  She stared.

  He clasped his hands behind his back. “I am either the last of the seraphims...or the first of a new generation. Either way, I have a duty to my people, and I can't fulfill it here.”

  She frowned. “But why leave...?”

  “There are many Harpies scattered across the mainland. I want to find them. Unite them. Bring them home....” he paused. “And I want to know what else lies beyond the ocean. We have watched the mainland for centuries, and yet we do not truly know what has changed, what the humans have done.” He nodded to her. “I don't think the races are meant to perish...but I don't think they will survive, either. Not without help.”

  “But why wait? Why not go there yourself?” she asked, still uncertain.

  He looked her over from head to toe. “I need a guide.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Why me?”

  A wan smile came over his face. “You don't trust me,” he said.

  “No.”

  Her abrupt answer took him off-guard, she could tell. He hesitated, glancing at the ground; he wasn't used to being refused. His voice probably held the same power over other Harpies as it did over Burn and Laina. A small, grim smile was on her lips. He would not be able to manipulate her that way.

  “What if...I could guarantee the life of the assassin?” he finally asked.

  Sora's eyes dropped to the dagger at his belt. He read her reaction immediately, resting a hand on it, giving her a knowing look. “The Matriarch speaks fiercely of the evil of the Unnamed,” he said. “She is good at that. Yet the age of the First Race is long gone, and our Matriarch is full of bravado. She won't admit that times have changed. She remembers those days of glory, and she is proud.” He seemed wistful about it, almost sad. “But she speaks in fear. It has been centuries since we went toe-to-toe with the Unnamed. She is afraid of them, of what is happening on the mainland. We are too out of touch; we know nothing of the human world anymore. My people would rather live in isolation than face what they don't know.” He shook his head slowly.

  “Oh?” Sora asked. “And you are so very different?” He acted better off than his own race—but it felt like more arrogance. “You're not afraid of the Unnamed?” she pressed.

  His smile broadened. “No,” he said. “I do not fear them. My light outshines their darkness.”

  Sora couldn't help but bristle. It was a bold claim to make. She thought of Crash's dexterity, his unmatched skill. She had seen him in countless battles, the best and the worst. To an assassin, killing was easier than fighting. Perhaps she hadn't met any others of the Sixth Race, yet she knew that they were formidable opponents. You haven't seen them yet, she wanted to say to him. You don't know what they're truly like.

  Oh, and you do? her inner voice spoke up, interrupting her thoughts. She bit her lip. Only a few days ago, Crash had been a simple man—not a demon, not some unknown offspring of the Dark God. The truth of his identity suddenly bothered her, sticking in her throat, the gravity of it. He was not human, but something else. Something she didn't understand.

  “Come,” Caprion said, and held out his hand. “There is one last thing I wish you to see.”

  Sora eyed his hand warily, uncertain of what to do—yet she couldn't back down. There was nowhere for her to go.

  The white glow surrounded her. They immediately lifted up into the air, rising above the trees, gliding smoothly across the forest. They sped through the night, passing over countless acres of woodland. Most of the ground below was obscured in deep shadows.

  Finally, an open space in the trees revealed a small building cradled in the foliage. The structure must have been important, for there were guards stationed all around. They looked up as she and Caprion approached. A half-minute later, she found herself standing lightly in the grass, in front of an open archway that led into a dark building. The soldiers glanced at her, then turned away when Caprion approached, lowering their eyes respectfully.

  The building was domed, similar to the one she was staying in. Yet it was far plainer, with no fancy mosaics or molding. It appeared to be built of thick gray granite sunk into the ground, impenetrable.

  “Where are we?” Sora asked as Caprion passed her, heading toward the open archway. He motioned for her to follow, and she fell into step behind him.

  As he approached the entrance, a large Harpy moved to stand in his way. This Harpy was Caprion's height but far wider, packed with muscle, his armor making him appear twice the size. He had a thick jaw and a broad neck that sloped into powerful shoulders. His eyes were similar to Caprion's, perhaps a slightly darker shade of purple.

  “Sumas,” Caprion said shortly.

  The large guard nodded to them. “I can't let the human enter,” he said.

  Caprion raised an eyebrow. “She is my guest,” he said. “Stand aside.”

  Sumas stared stoically at the Harpy General. Sora frowned up at him, but the guard intentionally ignored her, his expression like stone. He was the first soldier she had seen who stared Caprion in the face. “The
Matriarch forbid anyone to enter,” he growled.

  “And you suggest that I am disobeying the Matriarch?” Caprion said pointedly.

  They stared at each other intently for a moment, then Sumas' gaze wavered. His eyes shifted downward and he grimaced.

  “Stand aside,” Caprion repeated, his tone ringing in the dead air. The Cat's Eye shivered. Sora felt the voice's power tingle across her skin.

  Sumas stepped to one side, allowing them to pass. She could feel his eyes upon her, hard and unwelcoming. It made the hair stand up on the back of her neck.

  Inside, the building was less than accommodating. Everything was dark, thick stone. There were no chairs, no windows, no items of comfort. Only a solid, round floor and at its center, a stairwell leading downward.

  “Where are we?” Sora asked again, slightly alarmed. She didn't like the idea of going underground alone with this man. She didn't trust him. Not yet.

  “The holding cells,” Caprion said. “We have a larger prison, but we have no use for it anymore.”

  The holding cells. Crash! Sora felt her heart leap, thudding erratically in her chest. She wiped her sweaty palms and stared at the darkened staircase. It was swallowed by deep shadows, as though leading into an infinite abyss.

  Caprion paused halfway down the stairs and nodded toward the bottom. “I assume you want some privacy. Go ahead.”

  Sora stared at him, suspicion rising again. It seemed like far too grand a gesture. Here she was, fully armed, not bound. She could easily walk down there and break Crash out of the holding cell.

  Then she glanced behind her at the series of guards. There were at least eight of them, and maybe more out of sight. Too many for her to fight alone.

  “Right,” she murmured to him in passing, then climbed down the stairwell. The air grew colder as she descended, chilled by the earth.

  He nodded, but, true to his word, he didn't follow her.

  Sora reached the bottom floor. She found herself in a pitch-black underground chamber. She stood there for a moment, waiting for her eyes to adjust, but there was no source of light.

  On instinct, she touched her Cat's Eye. I need light, she thought, directing her intentions toward the necklace. She hoped it would obey her this time.