Sora's Quest (Cat's Eye #1) Page 2

  Then she bent down on her hands and knees, reached under her bed, and pulled out a pair of worn leather boots. She pulled them on with some difficulty, the leather stiff with disuse. With that, she stood up and made sure the dress would cover all of the out-of-place bits, like her shoes and the cuffs of her shirt. She felt the sudden urge to laugh. If I had thought a year ago that I’d be running away on my wedding day....

  “Milady! You’re dressed!”

  Sora whirled around, once again caught unawares, and Lilly stood there behind her with a heavy looking satchel and a glass of frothing green liquid. Her maid stared, openly stunned; she obviously didn't know what to make of this sudden change of attitude. This was the first time Sora had dressed up on her own free will.

  Sora blushed and snatched the satchel from Lilly’s grasp. She opened it, checking the contents. Everything was there, even a package of travel bread that she hadn’t asked for and a flask of water. You have to admit, the girl knows what she’s doing — even if I don’t. Then she turned her back quickly to Lilly and reached under her bed, drawing out a heavy bag of coins. It was her life savings, little bits she had collected over the years, which had by now amassed to quite a lot. Sora plopped them into the bag.

  “I brought some potion for you,” Lilly said wryly, and handed the glass over.

  Sora took the potion and shot her maid a narrow look, then took a small sip of the vile stuff. It slid down her throat like cough medicine. She almost gagged.

  “I suppose we’ll have to do your hair now, Milady,” Lilly said, keeping her wry tone. “We can’t have it loose. It’s simply indecent.”

  Sora shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. Her mind turned back to her plan. She would stash her bag in an alcove and go to the ball as expected, where she could see her father one last time. After everyone was dizzy from dancing and dead drunk, she’d slip out and conveniently disappear. So easy!

  “Just a braid will do, Lilly,” she said dreamily as her maid started on her hair.

  Lilly frowned again at her mistress, then began the weaving process. “Drink the potion please, Milady,” she said in concern. “You worry me.”

  Chapter 2

  Sora stood just inside the ball room, feeling ever-so-tipsy from the potion she had drank and awkward in her clunky boots and dress. She knew that she was supposed to be experiencing serious doubts about her plan and perhaps the overwhelming urge to scream, but the potion had swept everything into a soothing blur. Even her jittery nerves were dull and calm.

  “My, but you look lovely tonight, Lady Sora!” gushed one of the young, heavily dressed girls that flocked around her. “It’s going to be such a grand wedding!”

  “Uh-huh,” Sora murmured dazedly, staring at the twinkling chandeliers. The ballroom was huge, one of the largest in the county, with a dizzyingly tiled floor and long banquet tables. Above the white walls and marble tiles, a crystal clear skylight showed the night sky above, revealing countless gleaming stars. Sora stared up at them detachedly, imagining that she could find the constellation of Kaelyn the Wanderer. Goddess, I need to get my feet back on the ground. This is not good at all! Focus, Sora!

  She moved further into the ball room, refusing several offers to dance and, as usual, making her way steadily towards the food. The buffet table seemed to be a welcomed haven from the roiling crowds of people, most of which she had never met before. Obviously this was a big political boom for her father — wouldn’t want anyone to miss out, now would we?

  She paused next to a plate of stuffed mushrooms and looked at them distastefully. Huh, they didn’t even let me pick the food for my own wedding.... What is that stuff over there? Shrimp? Sure, shrimp was a rarity this far inland, but Sora didn’t have a taste for it. Then she spotted the smoked salmon and headed in that direction. Well, at least there’s something around here that’s edible!

  “Milady Sora! So this is where you’ve been hiding!” a chatty female voice said by her elbow. Sora glanced sideways, didn’t recognize the woman, and kept moving. “Oh, but you do look magnificent tonight!” the voice continued. “And just where is the lucky groom?”

  “I don't know,” Sora muttered and stuffed a piece of fish in her mouth. Maybe fish wasn’t the best thing to eat before her first kiss, but if her plans held out then she wouldn’t be kissing anyone tonight. Sora looked around the room uneasily, her nerves fighting their way to the surface. She gnawed her lip in sudden doubt. Should I leave now before the groom arrives? And how do I tell who the groom is when I’ve never even met him before?

  She felt her stomach curl into a ball. Oh my, she hadn’t thought of that.... She had assumed that he would be announced at the door, but they hadn’t announced her, had they? Then again, this was her house, and she was wearing a rather obvious wedding dress. Why was he even late? What kind of Lord would be late to his own wedding? Perhaps he has forgotten, or his coach broke down, or better yet a tree fell on him and he died. Yes, that’s what happened, he died and he’s never going to make it to the wedding and I won’t have to worry about running away after all.... At this thought, Sora was strangely disappointed.

  “And you are the Lady Sora?” a smooth voice said from her side.

  Sora turned, her chest constricting in panic. She kept her face in a schooled blank mask. The man before her was tall, willowy, with the slightly scrawny look of someone who could eat tons of food and not gain an ounce. His hair was long, dishwater brown, and greasy — it made her think of pork rinds. “Uh... yes...?” she said carefully.

  “Lord Garret, at your service, madame!” He made a small bow, a sly smile tugging at his thin lips. “And you are more beautiful than I imagined.”

  Uh-oh.

  “I-uh-weren’t they supposed to announce you?” Sora asked weakly.

  “I came in the back way just to surprise you,” he murmured. “I’ve been out hunting today in your father’s forest; he keeps it stocked with quite marvelous game. Your stable master took my horse in. A strange man, is he not? He hid his face from me. Most unsociable. Have you employed him long?” A brief frown passed over his thin, pointy features.

  Sora was speechless, staring in horror at her hopefully-never-to-be husband. “Uh... stable master?” she said in confusion. Their stablehands were a few boys of sixteen who often missed the night shift. And what does this man think he’s doing, running about my father’s lands as though he owns the place? Then she realized. Wait, if he marries me, then he does own the place!

  She didn’t like that thought at all.

  Sora was shaken out of her stupor of horror by the pinging of a wine glass. After several dings, the noise in the room dimmed and the musicians came to a stumbling halt. Silence. Sora looked up the table to see her father’s gray head in the distance. He was standing proudly, fork in one hand and wine glass in the other, prepared to give some sort of a speech. He motioned in her direction and said a few words, and a ripple of laughter moved through the room. Sora was too far away to hear. She had to stifle a gasp - no! She had missed her chance! She was supposed to be long gone before any speeches were made. Gods, I should have left before the damned groom arrived! Now everyone is staring at us — even my father. It was hopeless. After this she would be swept away into the ceremony and there would be no tuning back.

  A strange numbness washed over her, having nothing to do with the potion and everything to do with shock. The only way I’m going to get out of here is if someone drops dead, and the odds of that happening are, well, not very good. There was a dull buzzing in her ears along with the droning of her father’s voice, and Sora’s eyes drifted upwards to focus on the stars through the skylight. This was the last night she would ever see through the eyes of innocence and freedom. Her childhood was about to come to a close. The future was nothing but a long, endless procession of house guests, family obligations, sewing, estate matters, and Goddess forbid — babies! She began composing a silent prayer, hands clenched at her sides... then suddenly she blinked. Was it her imagination, or
had she just seen something move beyond the distant glass of the skylight? Had it been a shooting star, a cloud, or some sign from the Goddess...?

  A second later, the world shattered.

  Her father had been rambling along happily, then his voice was cut off by an ear splitting crashhhh! The skylight exploded into a million pieces. Glass shards rained down upon the ballroom, some as sharp and heavy as swords. Instant chaos. The guests screamed and dove in every direction, squeezing under tables and dodging the deadly rain; servants dashed back and forth, some slamming into each other and falling to the ground. Ironically, the calming potion decided to kick in again, and Sora found herself distant and fuzzy as she looked up at the broken skylight; she felt as though she was watching everything from far away. Part of her wanted to laugh at the outrageous sight — men running around like panicked ants; women screaming so loud, it was a wonder that the glass didn’t break all over again. A lazy smile on her lips, Sora turned to look up the banquet table. She spotted her father, roaring orders at the top of his lungs, waving his arms around.

  Doesn’t the man ever give up? she thought. Just cancel the wedding already. Tell everyone to go home, come back next week. This ceremony is a mess....

  Suddenly his words were cut off.

  Sora blinked in surprise. At first she was unable to see what had happened, then she saw her father drop to his knees, scrabbling at his neck, dark red blood flowing down the front of his shirt. She saw the knife sticking from his throat. His mouth gaped open like a caught fish, then his body slowly slumped backwards and disappeared under the table.

  The world grew dim. All Sora heard was a dull rushing noise in her ears. She stared at the place where her father had once stood, her mind replaying the scene again and again within a matter of milliseconds. Had she really just seen...? No, it’s impossible, how...?

  Sora, what are you doing? an inner voice screamed at her. This is your chance — run!

  Automatically, clumsily, Sora turned and fled. She knew that she wanted to escape the wedding, but that wasn’t what quickened her step. She had just seen her father killed — a man she had no feelings for, maybe, but family all the same — and it struck terror in her bones. She wanted to leave it behind her, get away before the reality could sink in, before her mind could recall what she had witnessed. They might come after her next. Wait, who? Who did this? She was, in a word, panicked.

  And so, boots crunching on glass, pandemonium ringing in her ears, she streaked to a nearby door and slipped through it, entering the servant hall. Any visitor would have been confused immediately, as her manor was vast and the corridors branched in several directions, but Sora had spent her entire life in this house. She knew every nook and cranny. She turned to her right and sprinted down the rich red carpet.

  While she moved, she ripped her dress off over her head without care. The sleeves tore and she used a knife to cut the ties down the front — it had been an ugly garment, anyway. Making a quick adjustment, she changed directions and headed down another hallway, narrow and barely lit by a few candles. This way would lead her out the back door and into the freedom of the night.

  Already she could see her bag up ahead, stashed in one of the servant alcoves. Breath heavy in her lungs, she put on a new burst of speed. She could hear the servants stirring, alarmed by the giant crash in the ballroom. Slowly, she frowned. Just what caused the skylight to break like that, anyway? she thought. And... just what did I see before it fell? Someone had killed her father — what if they were still in the house?

  Sora stooped and snatched up her bag without breaking stride. Now was not the time to scare herself with vague questions and assumptions. She had to escape, and do it quickly before someone discovered her absence. The red carpet seemed to lead on forever, though she knew she was only a few rooms away from the back door. Since when had her manor been this large? Gods, I’ll never make it out. Come on legs, move!

  A door burst open ahead of her without warning, and a crowd of servants flooded the hall. Sora barely contained a yelp of surprise. She quickly flung herself into a broom closet, where she slipped deep into the shadows and prayed that none of the workers had seen her. Breathless and quivering with nerves, she watched the hallway with wide eyes as the entire kitchen staff rushed past, hurrying to reach the traumatized guests. A few were carrying torches and the light passed by her, illuminating her hair and face momentarily.

  Then they were gone. Sora allowed herself to fill her lungs and let out a sigh of relief. Nervous yet exhilarated, she shouldered her pack and walked carefully to the hallway, checking both directions. Nothing. So she launched herself onto the red carpet, turned to her left, and began to run again when-

  Wham!

  An unidentified something-or-other crashed into her, hard enough to send her sprawling to the floor. She hit hard and rolled several feet before slamming into the wall, a body tangled on top of her. She felt the toe of a boot in her back.

  Without thinking, Sora did what any sensible woman would do in such a situation. She screamed.

  Immediately the body was up and off of her. Then a hand grabbed her braid and yanked her to her feet, which won another screech from her lips. Sora’s cry was cut off by a smart slap to the face.

  It stunned her to silence.

  She looked up at the person holding her — a very tall person by her standards, around six feet — and her gaze was immediately trapped by green eyes. They were so vibrant, so stunning, that for a moment she thought that they were glowing. Then she blinked and brought the rest of the man's features into focus. Black hair too dark to be natural, sweeping across his brow in a short cut, exposing two neat, tidy ears. His skin was lightly tanned by the sun, but other than that she could make very little out of his face; most of his lower features were hidden behind a black veil. Once again her eyes were trapped by his; his gaze was sharper than a knife, and his expression equally terrifying.

  Suddenly Sora felt her throat close. Dear gods... is this the man who killed my father? With eyes like that, I wouldn’t put it past him!

  Before her imagination could run away with her, the man whipped out a knife and pressed it against her throat. “Make a noise and it'll be your last,” he hissed. His voice was quiet enough to be the hiss of a snake.

  With a shudder, Sora thought it must be the voice of Death. She didn’t dare nod or even swallow with the knife pressed against her throat. He didn't wait for her reply, but grabbed her hand and started off at a run, yanking her behind him.

  At first Sora was so stunned that she couldn’t make her legs move, and she found herself being half-dragged, half-carried down the hallway. She recoiled at the man's touch and came out of her shock. Forcing her legs to work, she broke into a sprint, concentrating on keeping pace with the man. Despite her fit condition, it was almost impossible — he was a shadow, a ghost, running noiselessly down the hallway and flickering in and out of the torchlight as though he existed between two worlds. He could have been a dream, a nightmare... yet by the steel of his grip, she knew he was solid and very, very real.

  They burst through a door at the side of the house and plunged into the freezing night air. Sora felt as though she had been awakened. Her fighting instincts kicked in. With a twist, she tried to tug her arm out of the man’s iron grasp. She was being abducted — no, dear Goddess, kidnapped! — from her very own wedding. “Help!” she screamed, the words tumbling from her throat. “Someone — anyone — help me!”

  His fingers tightened with bruising force, but other than that, she was ignored. There was no one around; no servants, no lawn workers, no maids. Everyone had run to the ballroom. There was no one to help her, no place to run. She was helpless in the hands of a murderer.

  Forced behind him, Sora’s feet crunched against the gravel of the front drive, and she noticed that her abductor's steps made no noise at all. She shivered, but not from the cold. Goddess help me, what have I gotten myself into? With all the distractions inside the manor, no one would notic
e her disappearance for quite a while... and who knew what this man was planning to do to her? Probably drag me out to the middle of nowhere and kill me, she thought, an icy fist squeezing her chest.

  Sora realized that she had dug her heels into the ground. She wasn't about to give up. She had to stop, to get away from him, but he didn’t even glance at her. Instead he gave her no more than a light tug — or at least, he acted as though it was light — and she was sent stumbling forward, completely off balance. There was no way she could fight his strength.

  It was then that she saw the horse. An ugly, awkward animal by what she could make out in the light from the house; it was a dull gray color, like the gravel beneath them, and obviously built for speed. Distracted by the animal — Wait, that insignia on the saddle, is that Lord Garret’s steed? — she was caught off guard when a powerful arm snaked around her and forcefully threw her into the saddle. A yelp of shock and outrage ripped from her throat, but it was quickly cut off when he jumped up behind her, the knife still glinting in his hand.

  Sora began to panic in full. All nerve left her. “Help!” she screamed again, louder this time, desperate. “Help me! I'm being kidnapped! Help!!!” With wild abandon, she tried to throw herself from the horse but the dark man grabbed her as she started to fall. He jerked her back against him, and the knife was at her throat a second time.

  “Shut up!” he growled, pressing hard enough to draw blood. Sora could feel the sting of the blade, and a thin trickle crept down her neck. She would have gulped, but she was afraid of splitting her skin.

  The man pressed the horse, which had been pawing the earth impatiently, and the beast leapt into a gallop. Sora couldn’t see how fast they were going since she was surrounded by darkness, but from the wind in her face and the feel of the steed beneath her, she figured it was a formidable pace. Her suspicions were confirmed when they sped past the gates of the estate after what seemed like only a few minutes.