Viper's Creed (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) (14 page)

Sora stared at the young girl, wondering what to say. She felt tongue-tied and a little embarrassed at making such a spectacle.

Thankfully, Burn spoke for her. “A Cat's-Eye necklace,” he said briefly. “Sora is one of the few to possess one. I'll explain the whole thing once we see the High Priestess.”

Laina's eyes narrowed stubbornly. Sora recognized the look; it meant she was about to ask a million more questions. But at that moment, the young priestess reappeared. She looked flustered, her brown eyes wide in amazement.

“She is expecting you,” she said, breathless.

“What?” Sora asked, unsure if she had heard correctly.

“Yes, she says you are late. She wants to speak to you immediately... and alone.” The woman's eyes traveled over her companions.

Sora didn't know what to think about that. She frowned, suddenly suspicious. “But how....?”

“I will come too,” Crash said flatly.

The priestess opened her mouth to protest, but the assassin stepped up to Sora's side. He didn't have to speak; his presence was enough. As soon as his shadow fell across her, the priestess shuddered, a doubtful look crossing her face. “I suppose... if you would prefer....”

“We prefer,” Sora interjected.

The young priestess nodded, turned, and paused. She glanced over her shoulder at Laina and Burn. “If you have need of shelter, the dorms are across that way, and the kitchens too. Ask for Marian. She'll take care of you.”

Then the priestess led them into the Temple.

Chapter 7

They entered an expansive domed room with wide stone floors and large marble pillars. The walls were the same curious material as the outside, smooth and shimmery. Across the room, a large statue of the Goddess stood, reaching up toward the ceiling, a stone flute held to Her lips. It was a familiar statue; similar figures stood in all of the minor temples and shrines that Sora had ever seen. She could remember one in her garden long ago, back at her stepfather's manor.

The walls were painted to mimic the wind, a myriad of swirling colors, but in the deep shade, they were barely visible. The wall sconces were not lit.

“In summer, we only light the building in the mornings,” the priestess explained. “When the Temple is closed, we douse the fires to keep it cool.”

They headed toward a staircase on the right, which led upward into the tower. As they climbed the spiral stairs, Sora exchanged a glance with Crash. She was reminded of the Catlin swamp where giant hollow trees spiked into the sky, filled by similar spiral staircases they had climbed for hours just to reach the top.
It all seems so long ago.
She wondered if he was thinking the same thing, but when she met his eyes, she couldn't be sure. His gaze was eerie in the calm shadows.

They reached the top of the tower's staircase and entered a circular chamber, directly on top of the Temple's main room. It was broad and empty. The floor was a swirling mosaic of tiny tiles, each the size of Sora's thumbnail, a rainbow of purples, greens and reds, as though someone had spilled candy across the ground. There were no windows. The only light came from a series of sconces on the far wall, which shimmered with pearlescent light.

In the center of the room an old woman sat on a large, dark-blue pillow. Her silver hair, intricately braided down her back, was woven with small gold bells and purple ribbon. A veil made of soft gold cloth covered the lower half of her face. Sora looked above the veil at the woman's eyes. Old eyes. Wise eyes. Was that a hint of recognition?

The young priestess bowed slightly and opened her mouth to speak, but the old woman cut her off. “Thank you, Clara.”

The girl's eyes widened and she bowed again quickly, then turned and hurried away back toward the staircase. Sora watched her go, wondering at the brief dismissal.

“So you have arrived,” the High Priestess said, remaining seated on the large cushion. Then her light blue eyes gazed at Crash, and she said, “Why are you here, Dark One? I did not summon you.”

Crash remained slightly behind Sora, lingering at the doorway. “I wonder why,” he said stoically.

Why indeed?
Sora echoed. Her curiosity was piqued.
Dark One.
She could remember her mother calling Crash by a similar name.

The High Priestess and Crash shared a long, tense look that stretched on into silence. Then she frowned and turned back to Sora, as though Crash didn't exist. When she spoke, her words resounded off the chamber walls, amplified by the domed roof. “It has been some time that I have dreamt of a girl with a Cat's Eye,” she said. “It is a rare stone that you bear.”

Sora nodded. Dreams? She waited for an explanation, but the Priestess didn't speak again. Finally, she said, “You've dreamt of me?”

The Priestess nodded. “I have, child. Many who enter the Order are graced by visions from the Goddess. It is not magic... but Her will.”

Sora nodded, still uncertain. She snuck a glance at Crash. Again, unreadable.

“I... I've had a vision, too,” she said slowly. “From the Cat's Eye.”

The woman nodded, her bells jingling slightly in her hair.

Sora continued, “There is a plague coming, a supernatural one. The Dark God's weapons have entered the world.” It felt strange to say that; she wondered if the Priestess would understand.

But the Priestess' reply was unexpected. She spoke in a dry tone. “Do you know much about our Order, child?”

“I... uh, not really....”

“I am the High Priestess of the West. It is the duty of a High Priestess to commune with the Wind... to receive, in essence, visions. Every night I dream... and most nights, the Wind tells me things. I have heard of your Cat's-Eye necklace... and I have heard of the dark hilt that you carry in your bag.”

Sora blinked, surprised. She shifted the satchel on her shoulder. To be honest, she had almost forgotten about the hilt. It seemed almost silly—just an old chunk of metal wrapped up in rags.

“Yes,” the Priestess continued. “I know of this plague. Those who are sensitive to the balance in the world know that there is a rising darkness, something tainted in the land.”

“My mother said it is the essence of the Dark God,” Sora offered.

“And so it is,” the Priestess replied. A look of speculation came over her face. “Not many know of such things. Your mother must be knowledgeable, indeed, to have come to that conclusion.” The old woman stood up. To do so, she had to use two canes, one in each hand. Sora hadn't noticed the canes lying next to the pillow.

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.