Volcrian's Hunt (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) Page 24

  Sora nodded. “We've traveled to your island from the mainland. We are here on important business. We must speak to...er....” Did Harpies have Kings? Queens? She had no idea. “Whoever is in charge.”

  Talarin stared at her with sharp lavender eyes, as bright as amethysts. Then her gaze slid to the assassin on the ground. A look of disgust passed over her face. “Our Matriarch will decide who she wishes to speak to.”

  Sora opened her mouth. “Release him,” she demanded, pointing to the assassin. “Then we'll come willingly with you.”

  Talarin sneered at her. “I'd much rather kill him.” She raised her hand, signaling the man with the crossbow.

  “Wait!” Sora said, and moved in front of Crash. She was at a huge disadvantage, and if she put up a fight, she would lose even more credibility. “All right,” she agreed. “We'll come peaceably.”

  Talarin nodded in acceptance, then quickly motioned to the man on her right. “Feros, carry her.”

  Sora didn't have time to react. The male Harpy lunged forward, carried by his wings. Then, he was behind her. He grabbed her hands and tied them behind her back, all within a matter of seconds. She was stiff with shock.

  “Mythas, take the Dark One,” Talarin ordered.

  The other Harpy shouldered his crossbow and glided swiftly to Crash's side. Sora was forced to stand back. She looked down at her fallen companion. He lay motionless in the dirt, his eyes averted, slightly glazed with pain, focused on the trees. Yet she could see a hardness in his gaze. Anger? Hatred?

  A cold chill swept through her. She suddenly wondered what the Harpies would do. They seemed far more focused on capturing him. Perhaps Crash hadn't been exaggerating—perhaps he truly was in danger. She tried to quell the fear that accompanied that thought.

  “No!” she burst out. “He'll cooperate! He won't fight you!”

  “He'll fight,” Talarin snapped. “Mythas, hurry up. Put a collar on him. Tell Caprion we've caught one—and he's Named.”

  Sora didn't like the woman's tone—full of cruel anticipation. She opened her mouth again, but didn't know what to say. She instinctively reached out to her Cat's Eye, trying to summon its power, perhaps use it as she had in the Crystal Caves. But the stone barely stirred.

  Mythas knelt next to Crash's side and took a sunstone from the pouch on his belt. He held the sunstone out and Sora saw it flare up like a vibrant torch. The Harpy channeled his energy into it, making the stone glow brighter. Crash gritted his teeth, shut his eyes, and his body went rigid. She couldn't imagine what the stone was doing to him, but it looked...searingly painful.

  Then Mythas knelt down and placed the stone at the base of Crash's throat. She almost cried out as his skin smoked and singed. Red welts began to form. She half-expected Crash to retaliate, lash out, fight back...perhaps scream...but he only lay there, unmoving. Bound, she suddenly realized. Bound by the sunstones.

  Talarin walked back to Burn and Laina. The Harpy warrior grabbed one of them in each hand. When she touched them, a white light surrounded their bodies. The forest became saturated with unknown energy—it permeated the air, thick as sunlight.

  The Harpy spread her wings and then leapt from the ground, carrying both of her companions upward, compelled by an invisible power. Sora couldn't believe her eyes. Laina would have been easy to carry, but Burn was almost seven feet tall, a towering mountain of dense muscle and bone. Yet the Harpy made it look effortless.

  The other two followed Talarin's lead. Within minutes, Sora found herself carried far above the forest, toward the distant City of Asterion.

  * * *

  From above, the City of Asterion was covered by wilderness, the ancient buildings obscured by trees, barely discernible from the forest itself. Yet the buildings stretched on and on, from the center of the island up to the coast. Sora looked, but caught no sight of the sacred stones.

  They landed in an empty courtyard of white stone, somewhere just outside the city proper. It was surrounded by a high, white wall. The Harpies flew swiftly, yet touched down with the gentleness of a blown leaf.

  The giant marble slabs of the courtyard were cracked and displaced. Weeds poked up through the gaps. The walls were tall and arched, covered in moss and hanging ivy. Wildflowers had taken root in the deep shade, some finding purchase amongst the split rocks. A great stone threshold led into a large temple. The courtyard was completely enclosed. Sora had the feeling that one could only fly in or out.

  Talarin released both Laina and Burn, then turned to Sora's captor, Feros. “Go check on Mythas,” she commanded. “Make sure the Dark One is still bound.”

  “Where did you take him?” Sora asked. She couldn't stop herself. She needed to know that they wouldn't kill Crash.

  “Do you wish to speak to the Matriarch or not?” Talarin snapped. Her voice lingered in the air, echoing around the old stones.

  Sora caught a wary glance from Burn, and she hesitated. If she seemed too sympathetic to Crash, perhaps the Harpies would become suspicious—and much less inviting.

  “Yes, of course,” she answered Talarin's question. “As soon as possible.”Talarin nodded to Feros, and the Harpy took to the air again, lifting easily from the courtyard. Within seconds, he was gone from sight. Her gut twisted sickeningly.

  “I will escort you to the Matriarch's chambers,” Talarin spoke again. Her voice was firm and curt, like a soldier. “Come.”

  They walked through the courtyard into a garden of sorts. Wild jasmine clung to every surface. A large fountain spilled clear water into a limestone pool. The garden felt serene and yet somehow forbidden, as though rarely looked upon. They passed through it quickly and entered the temple.

  The hall before them was much different from the walls outside. So different, in fact, that Sora felt that she had come to the wrong place. Every surface was pristine, dusted and shined, made of brilliant white marble. The hall was brightly lit by sunstone pillars on either side. Long midnight-blue curtains fell from the ceiling, clasped to the walls in a decorative fashion. The floor tile was black-and-white, paved in a dizzying pattern. Other than that, it was empty; there were no chairs, tables or windows.

  “I will leave you here,” Talarin said. “When the Matriarch calls for you, simply enter through those doors, and you will find yourself in her chamber.” Talarin paused, glancing over Sora, Burn and Laina with a cold look. “If you run, we will kill you.”

  Sora nodded, her mouth going dry. Then the lady Harpy turned and walked swiftly from the room. Every couple of steps, she seemed to hover in the air, gliding forward on her powerful wings.

  As soon as she was gone, Sora turned to Burn, fear clogging her throat. “What are we going to do?” she hissed. “Where did they take Crash?”

  “Keep your voice down,” Burn murmured. “These hallways echo. Let me do the talking.”

  Sora blinked. “But....”

  “I doubt the Matriarch will be very sympathetic to a girl with a Cat's Eye,” Burn said, his voice soft and rushed. “Don't forget the history of your two peoples; the Harpies certainly have not.”

  Sora was speechless. She hadn't considered that before. Stupid! she thought. Once again, caught by her own naiveté. Of course the Harpies would look upon her less than favorably. She was the reason why their island had crashed into the ocean—the cause of their civilization's collapse. Perhaps she was in more danger here than she realized. Maybe even more danger than Crash.

  She quickly checked her necklace, making sure it was hidden under her shirt. Good. Perhaps the Harpies hadn't noticed it yet.

  “Their voices,” Laina said softly, drawing her attention. The girl was staring up the long hallway toward the doors on the opposite side, her eyes soft and large. “Their voices are so beautiful. How did they stop us from running?”

  “It is their magic,” Burn said tightly. “Harpies carry the magic of song and star, of Wind and Light. Their voices hold influence over nature. They can sing powerful spells that bind your limbs and control your mind
.”

  Sora's eyes widened. “But what of that light in the forest?” she asked, and gingerly touched the back of her neck. It stung like a severe sunburn.

  “Their wings emit the light of the stars,” Burn explained briefly. “The larger a Harpy's wings, the more powerful they are. But their light is used mainly to destroy the children of the Dark God, the Sixth Race.” He looked at her sternly, acknowledging that she knew the truth about Crash. “They see it as their sacred duty to rid the world of darkness. Usually they kill the Unnamed on sight.”

  “I knew it,” Laina sniffed, her nose turning upward. “See? I told you that my grandmother wasn't a liar. The Harpies protect us from evil. Don't worry, Sora,” she added, suddenly full of certainty. “They won't hurt us. They want to protect the world!”

  Sora nodded, but she didn't believe what Laina said. The girl's ideas were just as naïve as her own. She was simply spouting off words, saying whatever might be reassuring.

  And Laina clearly hadn't yet realized Crash's true identity.

  Sora had the sudden, vicious urge to strangle her. Don't you understand? She wanted to scream. They're going to kill him! They're going to torture him with sunstones and then burn him into oblivion! It made her sick, desperate with panic.

  Burn touched her shoulder lightly, as though hearing her thoughts. She looked up into his broad, calm face, his deep gold eyes. “Don't worry,” he said. “I will speak for us.”

  Sora nodded again, this time gratefully. Burn might be their only chance to save Crash's life.

  At that moment, a low rumble moved through the hallway, a deep vibration that reached Sora's bones. Suddenly the doors opened in front of them, leading to the next chamber. A low, melodic voice drifted through the air, seeming to emanate from the sunstones on the walls.

  “You may enter,” intoned the voice.

  Sora looked at Burn one last time, then clasped Laina's hand. The three travelers walked down the marble hallway, toward the brilliant white doors.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  IN THE NEXT chamber, the ceiling arched above them in a perfect dome, stretching perhaps thirty feet tall. At its apex was the inlaid design of a giant star, apparently made out of pure gold, that had to be at least ten feet wide. The craftsmanship was extravagant, detailed, perfect. Chiseled filigree decorated its surface. Sora's eyes lingered on the star, wondering how long it had taken to create, and how they had managed to fasten it so high above the ground. Of course, they can fly, she admonished herself. But it didn't make the sight any less impressive.

  Polished glass floors reflected the light of six large sunstones, embedded around the top of the walls, evenly distanced from each other. In the center of the room stood a large, raised dais and a massive throne carved of white marble. The back of the throne matched the starry ceiling, spiking upward in five great points tipped with gold, as though echoing the sunrise. Every surface contained inlaid patterns, rich with swirls, circles and symbols. It reminded Sora of an ancient and sacred temple, a place of worship and power.

  A woman sat atop the throne. Her white gown was long and flowing, made of sheer fabric, layered over her body like fine sheets of ice. A halo of light surrounded her, a soft glow that teased the eyes; her presence seemed to fill the chamber, as palpable as a song. Her white-blond hair fell to her waist in glorious waves. She was strikingly beautiful, more than an ordinary mortal, her features perfect and ageless. She seemed young and old all at once, her skin flawlessly smooth, yet her eyes were ancient, heavy and bold.

  Burn knelt to the ground and Sora followed suit, making Laina kneel as well. They bowed, their heads lowered, waiting. Beads of perspiration sprang up on Sora's brow.

  “Rise,” the Matriarch said. Her voice rang around the chamber, amplified by the stone walls and domed ceiling. It was middle-pitched, low for a woman, rich and soothing.

  Sora stood up. Recalling her life at the manor, when she had been a noblewoman trained in the art of propriety, she kept her hands clasped before her and her head slightly lowered out of respect. She hoped the Harpy would interpret her stance as subservient, rather than think she was hiding something.

  “A Wolfy,” the Matriarch said, her eyes landing on Burn. A long, slow smile curled on her lips. “I didn't think your race survived the War.”

  “Most of us did not,” Burn said briefly. His voice was harsh and grating next to the Matriarch's, like hearing a cymbal crash after the most beautiful serenade. Sora winced, surprised by the difference.

  “What brings you to my island?” the Matriarch asked. She didn't sound terribly interested, and yet her eyes were keen with intelligence, observing all three travelers. Sora felt as if the Harpy could see right through her, and resisted the urge to touch her Cat's Eye.

  “It has been a long journey,” Burn said. “We have come as friends to ask for your help in a very serious matter.”

  The Matriarch nodded. “Does this concern the Wolfy bloodmage that is sailing to us?” she asked bluntly.

  Sora sucked in a short breath. So they knew. Of course. They probably had knowledge of every ship that entered their waters.

  Burn seemed equally surprised, and paused for a moment before answering. “Yes,” he said. “That is exactly why we are here.”

  “Then state your purpose,” she said, her voice dropping a notch, somehow threatening.

  “The mage follows us on a misplaced hunt for revenge,” Burn said quickly. “He has used several spells against us that are condoned as black-blooded magic.”

  “Raising the dead?” the Matriarch asked.

  “Yes...” Burn replied. Once again, he didn't seem to expect the Matriarch's knowledge. Sora was relieved. The Harpies knew of blood magic and its uses, apparently to a great extent. That would make their quest much easier to explain.

  Burn continued. “The bloodmage is not as skilled in his craft as he would like to believe. There have been consequences. The Dark God's power is beginning to leak back into the world. It has tainted this mage with a dark magic that he doesn't understand, far beyond the abilities of a simple Wolfy. We think it is possessing him. We have lured him to this island in hopes of destroying him before more damage can be done.”

  The Matriarch abruptly stood up. A glimmer of light passed through the room, and the Matriarch's wings shimmered into existence. They were...massive, spanning almost twenty-five feet across, half the width of the chamber. And yet they were not as solid and bright as Talarin's. They flickered, ghostly shapes that emanated from her shoulders, there and yet...not there.

  Sora wondered at this. Perhaps the Harpies' wings were made of pure magic. Pure light. And maybe their manifestation could be controlled.

  The Matriarch stepped down from her dais and stood immediately in front of Sora, who looked up, filled with a sense of dread.

  “It's been many years since a human has been to this island,” she spoke, her voice rich with magic. “Why are you here?”

  Sora opened her mouth, yet didn't know what to say. Her eyes darted to Burn.

  The Matriarch smiled cunningly. “Talarin says our voices do not affect you,” she said smoothly. “I can see that this is true. Allow me to guess.” The Matriach's hand shot out, and grabbed Sora's Cat's Eye through her shirt. Sora stood in shock, staring down at the Matriarch's long arm. The fabric shielded the stone, but it glowed bright green at the Harpy's presence. Sora heard the dim chime of bells.

  The Matriarch released her after a moment. “We have known of your presence since your ship sank,” she said, turning back to Burn. “And I daresay, we know your plan to use our sacred stones. This is why you have led the bloodmage here, is it not?”

  Burn nodded silently.

  The Matriarch strode around her chamber, deep in thought. “We, perhaps even more so than those on the mainland, know of this rising darkness.” She turned and gave Sora a strange look, one that made her feel small and insignificant. “Humans do not know the dangers of the Dark God. They do not know the history of what hap
pened before. And even if they did, they would not know how to stop it from happening again.” Her lip curled. “A Wolfy bloodmage, I could care less about. But it is the sacred duty of our race to contain the Dark God. To ensure that He does not rise again. And for that, I will help you.”

  Sora hesitated, struck by the Matriarch's words. “You mean, this has happened before?”

  The Matriarch looked insulted by her question. “Of course, child,” she said. “It is the way of the world. The sun has risen and set for thousands of years, and yet the hours of the day are the same. History repeats itself. Do you know how old I am?”

  The question caught her off-guard. Sora's lips parted. “N-no,” she stuttered, unable to turn away from the woman's luminescent eyes.

  “I became the Matriarch of this island more than four hundred years ago,” she said, her voice ringing with authority. “I watched it crash into the sea. And over those years, I have watched darkness come and go from the mainland, lingering on the horizon, yet never spreading. It is a human darkness. A weak, petty thing, like rats fighting in the streets for bread. Something easily crushed, that time itself will resolve.” She continued walking forward until she stood inches away from Sora. Her presence was so powerful that Sora's knees shook.

  “But this shadow that rises now, that of the Dark God....” the Matriarch continued. “It covers the mainland in a thick blanket, and is the consistency of tar. It is not something easily dispelled. We are creatures of Light, yet there is a darkness greater than the night shadows—greater than we can penetrate. It absorbs all that it touches. It is evil, young one, of a like that you cannot fathom, because humans are momentary creatures, your lives short and fleeting. You only know the evil of a few decades, that which hardens you, that might throw you out onto the streets.”

  The Matriarch shook her head. “No, the power of the Dark God runs much deeper than that. It is chaos. Pure, natural chaos that was birthed with the world, that tore apart the mountains and boiled the seas. It consumes life and destroys it, not because it is hateful—but because that is its nature.” The Matriarch stared at Sora unwaveringly. “Do you understand?”