Sora's Quest (The Cat's Eye Chronicles #1) Read online

It wasn't long before Sora could feel the strain on her legs, despite the fact that they were fit from traveling. The staircase seemed to stretch on forever. It was barely the width of a broom closet, and the stairs were not evenly cut. Each step was either shorter or higher than the step they were on. She tripped several times.

  Every couple of turns, a white torch was mounted on the wall to light the way. Being magic, it was able to light quite a distance. Crash had to move sideways to get past them, and more than once Sora almost knocked one over. One torch actually fell on top of her, but as soon as it touched her, the Cat's Eye let out a fierce chime. The fire was snuffed out like a candle, no sign of ashes or sparks.

  As she climbed, she wondered what kind of power had created such a passage. Nature magic, some part of her whispered, and she quickened her step.

  The two kept silent, neither in the mood to converse. Sora pushed herself mindlessly forward. She forced her way up the stairs, her legs moving without conscious effort. She didn't even look where she was going, keeping her eyes on her feet so she didn't trip. Her breath grew heavy in her lungs. These stairs go on forever, she thought. When will they end? It's been an eternity since we were at the bottom.

  Her question was answered abruptly by her head hitting the ceiling. Thunk! She yelped and sat down, rubbing her bruised crown, looking up in surprise.

  The stairs leveled off abruptly. She was at a dead end: no doors, no windows, no corridors, no ladders to climb, just a solid wooden ceiling. She had to sit down so she didn't bump her head again.

  Crash already knelt in the small crawlspace, not making a sound. Sora shuddered, trying to keep some space between them. His presence lent her a newfound security—as long as he was at her back, she would be safe. But something about him still deeply frightened her. His uncanny stealth. His unusual aura.

  "Dead end," she whispered.

  Then she heard the sound of footsteps, not directly above her but a few feet in front. Crash put a finger to his lips. He slowly reached up and placed his hands on the roof, where Sora noticed something odd flickering in the firelight. A latch. A trapdoor.

  She stared at it, watching in fascination. Stretching upward, Crash placed his ear to the door and listened, then opened it up a few inches. Sora could hear voices, but they were speaking in another language. Catlins. Anxiety curled in her stomach. What if, at this very moment, they were discussing the best way to trap them? Perhaps they had heard her head thunk against the wood? Her eyes flickered to the assassin nervously. Then she was hit by a realization.

  He knew what they were saying!

  She wanted to ask him what was going on, but she bit her lip instead, waiting. The minutes stretched on and her knees began to ache from her cramped position. Finally the footsteps left, and she heard the familiar crinkle of leaves—vines opening and closing.

  He set down the door, carefully latching it again, then turned to look at her. He actually appeared pleased. "Seems like the whole colony is talking about us. They seem to think we died in the fall,” he told her. “They've sent a search party to scan the area, but Catlins are horribly afraid of water. That's why they put lakes beneath their colonies, to protect them from other tribes. I doubt they'll look very hard.” Crash smiled faintly, but that expression quickly melted. “They've already taken the Wolfies to the Grandmother Tree.”

  Sora's mouth went dry. Her heart raced once again. “What do we do?” she asked.

  Crash nodded to the trap door. “We need to recover our weapons,” he whispered. “It's still early in the morning; the colony won't be too crowded.”

  Sora gave him a pointed look. “That's a terrible idea! Let's just steal a few spears.”

  “I need my sword,” Crash murmured. “And my dagger.”

  Sora frowned. His eyes grew cold, and she knew he had made his decision.

  “Fine,” she said. “What's your plan?”

  Crash turned back to the trapdoor, lifting it once again, this time slightly higher. He peered outside, scanning whatever room lay beyond. “Don't get caught,” he said.

  “That's it?” Sora replied, incredulous.

  He was already climbing through the opening into the world beyond. She let out a long, slow sigh. Perhaps it would be in her best interest to go back downstairs, return to the raft, sail to shore and disappear....

  But she followed the assassin anyway.

  They were in a mid-sized room. Boxes upon boxes of goods were stacked alongside each wall: tubers, dried flowers, a myriad of vegetables that she didn't recognize, buckets of mushrooms and strips of dried meat. A small table stretched to one side. It held an old, dusty book, made from dried leaves. Sora took it all in with interest. A ledger, perhaps? They must be inside a store.

  She could see a doorway leading outside, blocked by familiar magic vines. Several portholes decorated the far wall, flooded by ample morning light. Crash slunk up to one and peered through, then gave her a sharp nod. He motioned to the doorway. It took her a moment to realize what he wanted. Apparently, she was the master key.

  Sora crept up to the door, standing slightly to one side so she wouldn't be caught in the open. Then she touched the vines, sending a silent command to her Cat's Eye. Zzzzt! With a jolt of energy, the necklace absorbed the magic and the vines fell to the ground.

  Outside, the colony was strangely silent. Sora glanced around from left to right. Morning light filtered through the mist. She wasn't sure what time it was, but she guessed it was too early for the Catlins to be up and about. They must still be asleep. Far off in the distance, she saw a feline shape dash across a bridge, but that was all.

  “This way,” Crash murmured, his voice hushed.

  They ran out of the building, crouching low to the ground. They were on the second level, the marketplace. It was easy to find cover between the stalls, ducking from empty tables to low benches, overshadowed by grassy canopies and cloth banners. They only ran across two Catlins, who were carrying heavy crates to some unknown destination. Sora and Crash paused behind a series of stacked barrels as the merchants passed. One of them sniffed the air, turned its head and glanced back and forth...but after a brief hesitation, continued on its way.

  Sora let out a silent breath of relief. They waited several minutes after the Catlins had disappeared, then started off again, moving as fast as possible.

  Although she was thoroughly lost, Crash seemed to recognize where they were. More than once he turned in a full circle, gauging their position, then continued across the giant branch. They turned onto a smaller bridge to the next thoroughfare. There, he ushered her onto an elevator and grabbed the levers, tugging experimentally at the ropes until the platform budged upwards. The mechanisms turned and grated as they rocked into the air.

  “How do you know where we are?” Sora asked in a hushed voice. They sat low on the elevator, obscured by shallow walls.

  He pointed to one side, over her shoulder. “Landmarks. The pattern of that bark looks like an arrow. And the stamen of that flower is bent.”

  Sora shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. She stared at the dark patches of the tree, turning her head slightly. I suppose it looks like an arrow. A bit. “You're observant,” she muttered. Once again, she felt inadequate. She had been busy running for her life—she hadn't thought to pay attention to her surroundings.

  They reached the prison tree without further complications. Sora had the sense that the colony was slowly waking up. Sounds could be heard from below—voices calling to each other, though she didn't know what was being said. The elevator arrived on the prison floor, rocking gently into place. Thankfully, no one was there to meet them. A pair of guards lingered at the doorway where the vines were still limp and lifeless, as they had left them.

  Crash slunk up behind them. Sora averted her eyes, knowing what he was about to do. The assassin slipped a knife from one guard's belt and quietly slit its neck, toppling the body backwards behind a large flower. He dealt with the other guard just as silently. Soon, the passage was
all clear.

  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.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN