Sora's Quest (35 page)

They passed through the doorway unnoticed. Sora wondered how long it would take for the Catlins to resurrect a door.

Once inside the tree, they slunk down a narrow corridor, listening intently for footsteps. All was silent. The jail didn't have any other prisoners that she could see—there were not many travelers through the swamp. Then she paused, recognizing the hallway they were in, and pointed to an alcove to their left. "That's the room," she murmured, keeping her voice as soft as possible. "They put our weapons in there."

They dashed to the cobweb door. Crash stood to one side and motioned for her to get to work. She felt horribly exposed in the hallway, and moved as fast as possible, tapping the thin spiderwebs with her finger. This time, she almost didn't need to think.
Ching.
With a slight chime, the webs fell away, and the Cat's Eye drank in the energy. She wondered if it was wise to use the necklace so much. It felt much stronger than before. Almost alive.

They entered the room. Their weapons and bags were piled in the middle of the floor, just as Sora had first seen them.
At least this part is easy.
She shouldered her staff and buckled on her daggers, letting out a slow breath of relief. She might not be the most skilled fighter, but it certainly felt better than being unarmed.

Crash grabbed the rest of their bags. Sora took what she could, slipping their knapsacks onto her back. She would have to drop them fast if they got into a fight.

When they entered the hall again, Crash turned to their left—deeper into the tree—and started walking.

"Wait! Wrong way!" Sora hissed.

He glanced over his shoulder at her, then motioned with his hand. For some people, this might have been enough, but Sora wasn't convinced. "Have you lost your wits?" she growled. "The exit is behind us!"

Crash glared at her. It was enough to shut her mouth. "We can't go back through the colony," the assassin murmured, his voice as soft as a shadow. "There is another stairway in this tree. I think I know where it is."

Sora wanted to protest. It might be dangerous to tromp through the colony again, but going deeper into the prison tree was even more ludicrous. They would have no chance at escaping if everything went wrong.

But Crash was moving down the hallway again, and she couldn't go back without him. She would be lost and defenseless.
Damn it all,
she thought.
If I get out of this alive, I'm going to learn to fight on my own.

They walked quickly and quietly down the hallway, barely pausing to check a corridor before dashing down it. Twice Crash turned and changed direction, going back to use a different hallway, or jumping down a few stairs. They passed two rooms that were occupied by Catlins. Sora recognized the sound of snoring. She glanced inside and saw rows of hammocks swaying softly, full of sleeping guards. Sora and Crash continued on swiftly.

Then suddenly they were passing by the Wolfies' old cells, from which they had escaped the day before. Sora looked at the empty alcove in horror. It was true, then. The Wolfies had been taken to the Grandmother Tree. Perhaps they were dead already.

The thought almost made her cry. Somewhere along the journey, Burn and Dorian had become close to her, people she could trust. She couldn't imagine leaving the swamp without them. She was consumed with dread.

They passed the final hallway of cells and reached an open doorway. It led into a storage room much like the one they had originally arrived in. Sora was shocked, to say the least. She stared at Crash, wondering how he had known this was here.
Perhaps he "observed" it.
The assassin scrutinized the floor, searching for the trapdoor that would lead them outside.

Suddenly, Sora heard voices from behind. Grunts and growls, the Catlin language. It occurred to her that they were in a room full of food—boxes of roots, eggs and other edibles. Breakfast?

She almost panicked.

Just then, Crash found the trapdoor. He dug a knife into its crevice and popped the door upward. Sora scrambled over, dropping her bags through the opening.

Crash shoved her in before she could lower herself down. She fell, biting her lip so she wouldn't scream. It was pitch black inside the stairwell. She couldn't see the ground, and it was impossible to brace herself for landing.
Thunk!
She fell hard on her wrist. The impact stunned her briefly, and she lay there, shaking. What if there had been no stairs? What if she had just kept falling? She couldn't clear the image from her head.

Crash slid in behind her and gently lowered the trapdoor. No sooner had it touched the floor than footsteps could be heard. Loud, heavy paws. A few boxes and crates scraped across the floor, and she heard something that sounded like a chuckle. She and Crash slowly drew their weapons, listening intently, prepared for the worst.

The guards kept talking. Eventually they left.

Finally, Sora could breathe. Then she turned on Crash and shoved him, unable to contain herself. "Bastard!" she hissed. "They could have caught us!"

She couldn't see the assassin's face in the darkness. He remained silent. She started to regret her words....

"But they didn't," he finally said. Then he sheathed his thin sword and shouldered his bags. Sora watched him, stunned, focusing the best she could on his shadow. She couldn't understand why he didn't worry more. It had been a close call—far too close for comfort. And they still had to find the Grandmother Tree and save the Wolfies.

Crash started down the stairwell, the white flames of a torch flickering around the bend.

After a long, seething hesitation, Sora shouldered her bags and followed suit.

Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Crash signaled for her to wait. It was a welcome relief. Sora's legs were shaking from the long, steep staircase. This corridor had been darker and dustier than the last one, perhaps a passage through an older tree.

Turning his back to her, Crash started to take off his shirt. Sora's mouth dropped open, then she quickly averted her eyes. She turned toward the wall of the tree, staring resolutely at the wood grain, waiting as he undressed himself. "W-what are you doing?" she stuttered. It was silly, really. She had already seen him shirtless. But it was different when he was awake.
You know, not drowning.

"I'll be back," he murmured.

"What do you mean?" she asked. She waited a moment longer, but curiosity finally made her turn her head. When she looked, the assassin was gone, as though he had vanished into thin air. Only his clothes remained.

She stared at the heap of black leather and linen. Shirt, gloves, cloak...pants. Her eyes widened. Then she ran to the doorway, gazing out at the cold, gray lake. She saw a ripple of water near the base of the tree, thin rings spreading outward. He had barely made a splash.

Her eyes searched the mist, wondering where he had gone.
He could have at least warned me.
With a breath of annoyance, she sat down against the wall of the tree and stretched out her legs. She winced. Her muscles were terribly stiff and sore. She rubbed them as she waited.

Her thoughts turned to the Cat's Eye, to the manor. She wondered what Lily was doing—whether or not the maid had found employment, or if life somehow carried on, unaffected by Lord Fallcrest's passing. She had the sudden, terrible urge to write a letter, though it was impossible. Her fingers itched to put pen to paper.

Then she thought of the Wolfies and their impending death. It was pathetic, really. She was drained from the panic and excitement, but somehow, she still shed a few tears. First her father, and now this. Given the seclusion of the moment, Sora pressed her face against her knees and allowed herself a few exhausted sobs.

Perhaps ten minutes later, Crash returned with another raft. If she hadn't been watching for him, she never would have heard him approach. The assassin swam behind an abandoned elevator, his arms holding on to the edge, pushing with his legs. She watched his powerful shoulders flex. They were broad and heavily layered with muscle. A few nicks and scars stood out against his wet skin.

Sora wondered how many elevators had fallen over the years, plunging unwary passengers to their deaths. The thought made her shudder. She could remember the Catlin's body clearly, drowned beneath the lake.

She turned away before Crash got too close. He was in the nude, after all. She waited for him to dress, focusing on her muddy knees. She had never been remotely close to a naked man before, nix the previous day.
It was only a matter of time,
she told herself. Even her thoughts sounded awkward. They had been traveling together for over a month now. Nudity was bound to happen.

Once he was dressed again, they loaded their supplies onto the makeshift raft. She still found it difficult to look Crash in the eye. She wondered if he noticed. Probably.

The raft was barely big enough for both of them. At first, she was afraid it would sink. It bobbed threateningly low in the water, but somehow held. Crash handed her a broad piece of driftwood to use as a paddle. She was careful to match his rhythm; she didn't want to overturn the boat.

They passed several abandoned elevators and lumps of driftwood, lost relics of the Catlin colony. Trees loomed out of the mist, blocking the route forward, and several times they had to change direction. The air above the lake was icy cold, and her nose turned numb before long. She listened for any signs of a search party, but there were none. The lake stretched on and on, with no shore in sight.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked. They had kept a stealthy silence, but she no longer saw the point. They hadn't seen another living thing in almost a mile.

"To shore," he said shortly.

"Right. That wasn't my question," Sora replied. "Well, not really."

"We're going to find the Wulvens," Crash said. "I'll track them once we are on land." He paused. "Or rather, in shallower water."

Sora raised an eyebrow. She hadn't thought of that. They were deep in the swamp—what if the lake never truly ended? They would have to make their way back into the trees. She couldn't fathom how he could track the Wolfies above ground. They could be anywhere, and tree bark didn't hold footprints.

As though reading her mind, the raft suddenly ran up against an embankment. She could see black mud beneath them. Clumps of reeds and ferns grew from the thick paste, clotted with decomposing leaves. She wrinkled her nose. It smelled like rotten eggs.

Crash leapt to shore...or rather, a nearby fern, then grabbed onto a series of thick vines that dangled to the ground. "I'll be back," he said. "Stay here. Don't make any noise."

He shimmied up the vines like a squirrel. Sora watched, trying not to be impressed. Then he was gone.

She pulled her cloak closer around her and took out a dagger, holding it in her lap, looking around at the thick underbrush. Her view was obscured by wide, flat leaves and silky mist. She tried to listen for anyone's approach, but all she heard was the gentle lap of the lake and the call of birds.

* * *

Sora wasn't sure how long Crash was gone. Only that by the time he reappeared, she was half-crazy with worry.

"Well?" she asked, as he slid down the vines, appearing out of the mist like a panther from the dark. "Did you find them? Where are they?" She twisted her hands around her dagger. Were they already dead?

"This way," Crash said shortly. "Grab the bags, we have to hurry."

He led her up into the trees. If it had been a month ago, the climb would have been hard. But Sora was used to the swamp by now, clambering through branches and swinging on vines. She followed his lead into the canopy.

They found an old tree trunk that was hollowed out inside, and hid their bags there. Then they continued on their way. Crash moved at a relentless pace, jumping from one branch to the next, using vines to swing across wide gaps. Sora followed as best she could. It was hard going. The wilderness was thick with foliage and they had to cut their way through more than once.

After about ten minutes, she heard a faint pounding sound in the distance. Drums? She frowned, staring at Crash's back. She wanted to ask what it was, but she sensed that it was better to remain silent. If Catlins were nearby, she didn't want to be overheard.