Sora's Quest (38 page)

"Nothing," she said, dropping her hands, though she felt like that was a lie. There was a residue of sorts. Something vague and lingering.

Dorian let out a sigh of relief, but still looked troubled. "Thanks, love," he said. She waited for some witty remark, a teasing word. But there was none.

"Sorry," she murmured. "I don't know everything about the necklace. At least, not yet."

Dorian grinned at this, the worry melting from his face. "Look at you, taking charge," he remarked. "You'll be an expert in no time."

Sora allowed herself a small smile, but it felt empty. She wished that were true...but she had a feeling it would take a long time to learn all of the necklace's secrets. Perhaps an entire lifetime.

"You should get some sleep," she said quietly, and moved away to the fire, stretching out on the hard ground. She wished she still had her bedroll, or at least something clean to wrap herself in, but only her tattered cloak protected her against the cold.

"No," Dorian said quietly. "
You
should get some sleep, love. I'll stay awake for a while yet. I've been sleeping long enough."

She nodded, giving him another slight smile. She must have looked as tired as she felt.

Sora cushioned her head in her arms, wishing she could relax. But every snap of the fire made her jolt back awake, every subtle movement in the woods. The Catlins seemed to lurk just beyond her line of sight. She kept listening for a sign from the darkness, like the telltale shift of leaves. She couldn't quite believe that they were safe, even with Crash watching over them. They had been running for a long, long time.

But her body was exhausted. There was no fighting it. Eventually, she slipped into troubled dreams, falling through dense gray clouds, plunging into an ice-cold sleep....

* * *

Several more days passed this way. The four travelers were exhausted, Sora especially. She didn't know where the men got their endurance. Food was scarce, though as the ground grew more solid and the trees smaller, they were able to find rabbits and wild hens. Finally, the swamp seemed to have turned into a genuine forest, interrupted by brief patches of wetland.

They walked long distances, stopping for brief rests, eating what they could find, special kinds of flowers or weeds or tubers. The occasional rodent. They slept in short, tense spurts, unable to fully relax; stopping was dangerous and left them open for attack.

She didn't know if the Catlins were following. At first, she had been certain that the beasts were only a league behind them. Her Cat's Eye had tingled occasionally, warning her of unseen magic, though she hadn't bothered to warn her friends. The magic would sweep over them, casting about like a net, and she always touched the necklace, certain of its protection. Each day, its presence grew stronger in her mind.

Now that they were out of the swamp proper, she felt more confident. She doubted the wild beasts would risk discovery. If she had learned one thing, it's that Catlins valued their privacy.

Almost a week later, four figures stumbled wearily out of the woods bordering the swamp. If a passerby had seen them, it would have seemed that four amazingly human-shaped rocks had appeared next to the road. They were covered in so much mud and dirt, they were almost unrecognizable. Luckily, no one was on the road to see them. The sun had almost set behind the hills and the countryside was deserted.

Sora sat with her head in the crook of Burn's arm, somewhere between dozing and sleeping. Crash, sitting next to her, had his eyes closed and seemed to be in a meditative state. On the other side of him was Dorian, his sweaty forehead resting against his knees. All four travelers were exhausted, on the verge of sleep.

After a few minutes, Burn looked off into the distance and squinted, his eyes narrowed against the glare of the setting sun.

"Crash?" The Wolfy glanced at his smaller companion. "Do you see that town?"

"Hmmm?"

"That town, over there across the field."

Crash opened his eyes. "Yes, I see it."

Sora listened with half an ear.

"We can make it by nightfall, get a room at an inn," the Wolfy mercenary suggested. "It looks about three miles away."

"Too far," Dorian said. "We'll never make it."

Sora grinned at the irony. She was surprised that she could still smile.

"You're welcome to stay here," Crash replied.

Dorian sighed and rose slowly to his feet, picking up one of their bags. Sora didn't know why they had kept the satchels—they were almost all empty. "The sooner we start, the sooner we get there," he said.

Burn stood up as well, disrupting Sora's resting place. Then the mercenary reached down and pulled her to her feet. He gave her a slight grin, then turned toward town, Dorian by his side. "We'll take the lead," he said. "No rush now—save your energy."

Sora nodded, too tired to care, and watched the two Wolfies set off across the fields: Burn, his hair flaring gold with the light of the setting sun, Dorian trotting along next to him. They were speaking to each other but she couldn't hear what was being said, and they walked quickly. The town was still some ways in the distance. She knew they were as eager for a soft bed and a warm meal as she was.

Crash hung back, lifting the other bags. Sora fell into step next to him, an uneasy silence between them. She had saved his life twice now, but she still had mixed feelings about it. What happened when they reached the town? Would he release her? Volcrian was far behind them—they didn't need her anymore, right?

She didn't want to bring that up quite yet; it seemed like bad timing. Reminding the assassin of her captive state might cause more problems than it would solve.

With each step they took away from the woods, Sora felt her heart lighten slightly.
We made it,
she finally thought in relief. That phrase kept repeating over and over in her mind until she smiled. She had survived her first journey, her first venture into peril. She couldn't believe how far she had come, how much she had learned.

Her thoughts drifted back to Mayville, to her father's manor, to the price on her head. Lord Seabourne would never find her this far away, and she doubted the King's men were still looking for her. It had to have been over a month. A year from now, they might have forgotten everything.

What now?
she thought. She hoped fervently that they would let her go. Given their journey together, the Wolfies seemed to look at her more like a friend. Crash was the only one she had to convince. She glanced sideways at him, wondering if he was considering the same thing. Perhaps she would bring it up tomorrow, after a warm meal and a good night's sleep. Then maybe...she could begin her quest to find her mother.

* * *

Volcrian woke up with a start. He was wedged between an old widow and a greasy farmer who smoked incessantly on a corncob pipe. Falling asleep had been a problem in the cramped carriage, so he brewed a sleeping tonic at the last home station, preparing his own herbs, hoping it would make the hours go by faster. He had just dozed off...but waking up was far worse.

The mage gritted his teeth as a rush of pain shot through his crippled hand. He groaned, trying to ease his fingers open, to loosen the cramped muscles. Then another shock of pain ripped through him. He almost cried out.

Outside, early evening light rolled past, the sunset dotted with vague clouds. The woodland was dense and wild, with low scrub oaks and dense boysenberries. They were miles past the Sinclair lands, far from the Fallcrest estate, heading steadily Northwest. He checked his pocketwatch. It was a little after four.

He had switched carriages at the last home station, boarding a coach to the City of Crowns, disgruntled to learn that it would take them almost a month to arrive. That was the driver's best estimate, trusting that the mud wagon didn't fall apart, that the horses stayed in good shape, and that thieves didn't attack them on the road.

He hadn't expected the pain. It rolled around his body like a ball of fire, coming to rest somewhere deep in his gut.

Volcrian frowned, placing a hand on his chest. The ache grew and dimmed like an ocean wave. A horrible suspicion crept into his thoughts. The pain nestled there for a moment, then seemed to fade away, leaving him cold and shaky.

He grimaced. This was no ordinary ache.

He closed his eyes again, his forehead throbbing, sweat sprouting above his brow. Somewhere beneath the pain, he felt a strange sensation. A certain darkness, like a gaping hole splitting his stomach open, draining him of life.
What is happening?
he thought, trying not to panic.

He was suddenly certain that this pain had something to do with his spell. He wondered about the four travelers lost in the swamp. Had the wraiths found them? Somehow, this pain stemmed from his magic. It left a dark residue on his thoughts. He needed to know what was happening.

Trying to stay calm, Volcrian took deep breaths and closed his eyes, seeking the quiet place in his mind where he could access his creations. Usually, a Wolfy mage was tied to his minions through blood, and so sinking into their minds was relatively easy. But this time, it was different. The bond was strange, unstable, like trying to grasp a snake. He received no clear picture of what the wraiths were doing. They seemed far more autonomous than his other creations. A moment of doubt entered his thoughts. Perhaps they would not be so easy to control.

Volcrian shifted, adjusting his back against the hard seat. His nose wrinkled from the smoke of the corncob pipe.
Focus,
he told himself. He had other ways of spying on his prey. Better ways, perhaps.

He tried again, sinking deeper into his meditation until the pain subsided, until the smoke was gone and his mind was filled with cold mist. Then he cast out, searching for Dorian, for a brief glimpse through his eyes. But there was nothing.

Nothing? He searched again.

Only blackness.

Another wave of pain struck him, and Volcrian smashed his hand down on the seat. The farmer next to him jumped, gave him a queer look, then turned back to the window.

Volcrian glared at the man, as though this was all his fault. The blood bond had been weak from the beginning. Perhaps it had worn off.
Blast it all,
he thought viciously.
The Winds take you!
His bond with the thief was broken. He would be unable to spy on them, to learn what his prey was doing.

The assassin had outfoxed him again, and there was nothing he could do.

The carriage rolled onward, up a slight hill, then down into rougher terrain. The seats jolted and rocked. The floorboards quivered. The wheels squeaked. Somewhere up ahead, he heard the driver call to the horses, slowing the team, moving steadily over the uneven ground. The inside of the carriage became suffocatingly hot, filled with the stench of human bodies.

Volcrian could do no more than seethe in anger, the pain rolling and subsiding like an ocean wave.

Sora looked at the distant box-like shapes of the houses, the sloping roofs, barely a few lumps on the horizon. She could already feel the soft feather mattress against her sore muscles. And fresh food! Warm bread, thick stew, vegetables, apples dipped in sugar, oranges and cream....

She had never before appreciated true hunger. She was practically drooling on her shirt. She couldn't wait to stuff her face.

She sighed in longing, her mind full of warm butter and scones. They were still a mile from town. The field stretched before her, the sun sinking slowly. Peaceful silence lay over the grass, only disturbed by a slight wind. She had never been on this side of the swamp before. It was drier and warmer than she remembered by her manor.

"Sora! Get down!"

Abruptly Crash tackled her to the ground.

A black shape whizzed over their heads. Sora, who was lying face down in the tall grass, looked up in surprise.
What?
At first she thought it was a large bird. She scanned the field desperately, trying to figure out had happened. Why was Crash so alarmed?

Distantly, she could see a flying object hurtling toward the two Wolfies. It was far too big to be a bird or a rock. A horse? She squinted, unable to see its legs. It wasn't shaped like any animals she knew....