Viper's Creed (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) Page 5

  The Cap'n looked even colder than before. “Sister?” he grunted. “So you're related to one of these thieves?”

  “Sh-She deserves a second chance,” Sora said. “Look at her, she's just a child! She doesn't know any better.”

  The Cap'n snorted. “Miss, I have seen twelve-year-olds slit a man's throat! She certainly knows better than to get mixed up with outlaws. It's unfortunate that you two are related. We have strict laws about these things.” The Cap'n turned abruptly, nodding to the guard next to him. “Jesse, lock her up.”

  “Wh-What?” Sora exclaimed, her eyes going wide. “But I didn't do anything!”

  The words landed on deaf ears. She could tell that some unspoken rule had been broken. Apparently this town wasn't very forgiving of criminals—or their supposed families.

  The guard had a regretful look on his young face, but she watched him draw a short knife from his belt. There was a rope in his other hand. “Best to come peaceably,” he said, brow furrowed. He took a careful step toward her. “We probably won't hang both of you.”

  Probably? Sora watched the man approach, shocked, then her reflexes kicked in. With a flick of her wrist, she slipped the knife from her sleeve and lunged forward. The guard's surprised yelp was his only reaction. She plunged the knife into his shoulder, then smacked his head back against the wall. His helmet fell off, clanging across the ground. The guard collapsed, blood running from his head wound.

  Sora withdrew her knife and leapt after the Cap'n, who was slightly more prepared. He attempted to grab her wrist, but she kicked him squarely in the knee. It was a fierce kick, much stronger than she had intended, and a high-pitched screech ripped from his throat. Then he fell to the ground, his leg hooked at an unnatural angle. She brought the hard butt of her knife down on his head, cracking it back against the floor, and with a hollow gasp, the Cap'n went limp.

  Sora grimaced at his unconscious body, slightly surprised at her own reflexes. She had been practicing with her mother for a full year, but she hadn't thought she'd improved so much. She wiped her knife clean on the tail end of the man's cloak, averting her eyes from his crooked limb, then turned back to the cells.

  When she straightened up, she found both prisoners staring at her, their fists tight on the bars. The buzzard man's mouth gaped open. His skull stood out repulsively beneath his tightly stretched skin. The young girl's eyes were as wide as soup bowls.

  “You... you....” the young girl said.

  Sora didn't waste any time. She couldn't turn back now, and she hadn't laid out the soldiers permanently. They would be awake soon, perhaps within the minute. She yanked the keys from the Cap'n's belt and dashed toward the girl's cell. The ring had about a dozen or so keys jingling from it, and she flipped through them, trying to control her fingers, which were trembling from adrenaline. She tried the next key, and the next. Luckily, by the fourth key, she grabbed the right one. The lock turned with a rusty crriiick. She yanked the cell door open and held out a hand to the girl.

  The girl stared at her. Her wide, lavender eyes were absolutely luminous. “Wh-what are you doing?” she finally exclaimed. Suspicion came over her face like a dark cloud. “You claim to be my sister? I've never seen you before in my life!”

  Sora's mouth dropped. “Of course I'm not your sister!” she exclaimed. “Can't you see—I'm trying to get you out of here!”

  “Why? Why should I trust you?”

  “You can ask me later, but we don't have a lot of time.” Sora looked at the girl in exasperation. “Do you want to live or not?”

  The tension ran out of her shoulders at this, and the girl nodded wordlessly. She dodged out of the cell, avoiding Sora's hand, obviously still wary.

  “Hey!” the buzzard man shouted. “What about me?”

  Personally, Sora didn't like the looks of the man. She could see the branding marks all up and down his arm, scars in the shape of flying birds. A Raven, indeed. He looked like he had been one for countless years.

  The girl shook her head, echoing her thoughts. “No way,” she said. “He'll go straight to the others and rat us out!”

  “I wouldn't!” the man said. It sounded genuine enough, but Sora wasn't convinced.

  “Yes, you would!” the girl shouted, fear creeping into her voice. “I saw what you did to the last two! Bastard!”

  There was no time for an argument. Sora grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her toward the stairs, away from the man in the cell. The man started banging his hands against the bars, making as much noise as possible. “Help!” he screamed, once he saw that they were leaving him behind. “Help! Guards! There's a breakout!”

  Sora threw the keys behind her on last-second inspiration. They skidded across the ground toward the man's cell, but she didn't stop to see if he could reach them. The banging stopped, so he was at least distracted. Well, that shut him up, she thought, dragging the young girl up the stairs behind her. It would buy them a little bit more time. Hopefully the keys hadn't slid too close. She didn't necessarily want to break him out of jail... but that wasn't her problem anymore.

  They reached the top of the stairs and dashed through the singular room. Two soldiers stood in the corner, both drinking tankards of ale, half-undressed, their cuirasses and shirts off. They looked up, mouths open in mid-conversation. Sora ran straight for the door.

  Luckily, the soldiers took a long moment to recover. She rammed open the door and sprinted into sunlight, the girl stumbling behind her. She glanced around, looking for her horse... her horse, anywhere, her horse... there!

  Her mare was tethered to the same post, next to a line of other steeds that belonged to the guards; one could tell from their decorative saddles. The street urchin dropped Sora's hand and sprinted to the nearest horse, untying its reins.

  “What are you doing?” Sora demanded, even as she swung up into her own saddle.

  “I'm not going to ride with you!” the girl said. “They'll catch us in no time!”

  She had a point. Sora nodded and turned her horse toward the gates. Just then, the door to the guardhouse burst open and two shirtless men ran outside, swords in hand, yelling at the top of their lungs, “Escape! Help! Raise the alarm!”

  But they were too late.

  The girl freed her horse, a tall, gray steed that was a few years past its prime, and dragged it around to the front gates. She was a blunt and heavy-handed rider. Sora suspected she was self-taught, but now was no time for a lesson.

  With a firm kick of her legs, Sora's mare leapt into an immediate gallop. They took off into the fields, running at top speed, her steed huffing and snorting. Full night was almost upon them, with only the barest rim of light on the horizon. She could see stars winking down at her, as though cheering her on, congratulating her on her good luck. She let out a slow breath, easing into the horse's pace. Good fortune, indeed. They would lose the guards easily under cover of darkness, and by morning, they would be far, far away.

  * * *

  “Are you all right?” Sora looked at the girl curiously.

  They had ridden all night. Eventually, they found a river and followed it upstream, hoping it would wash away their trail. Sora was confident that plan had worked. There were no signs of pursuit.

  Now, if only they could find a good campsite, sheltered from the wide, flat plains. Sora was becoming tired—a solid twenty-four hours without sleep. She glanced over her shoulder when the girl didn't answer. “Did you hear me?” Sora asked.

  The girl followed awkwardly, jostling with each step of the horse, too small for her saddle. She looked exactly as she had in the jail cell: skinny, pale and wan.

  “I'm fine, thanks,” the girl grunted. “Whatever you want, you’re not gettin’ anything. I didn’t ask for your help.”

  It seemed to come out of nowhere. Sora paused, unprepared for the attitude. “Uh... what do you mean?” she asked. “And what could I possibly want from a street child?”

  A harsh laugh ripped from the girl's throat, strangely uncharac
teristic of a child. “Are you kidding me? You just saved my life. No one would do that for a stranger without asking for something!” She leaned her head to one side, her face tight with suspicion. The predawn light had a way of making her skin whiter, like ice.

  Sora frowned. Maybe her act of heroism hadn't been such a good idea. “I don’t want anything,” she said, insulted. No wonder no one helps each other. Just look at the thanks they get! “I just thought you were too young to waste away in a jail cell. But if you were happier there, I can always take you back.”

  Now it was the girl's turn to look surprised. Her eyes widened, a pathetic look that was fast becoming familiar. Her horse came to an awkward halt, and Sora stopped, too.

  “Why did you help me?” the girl asked. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  Sora wanted to sigh. She was annoyed and not in the mood to prove herself to anyone. “I just wanted to help. I don't know. Maybe I should've left you there. Seems like you're not very happy about escaping.”

  The girl pouted, sticking out her small lips. “But I'm a Raven. Look, you can see my mark.” She stretched out her left wrist, showing a cruel, raw burn. It was still fresh and scabby. Sora winced and glanced away, resisting the urge to touch her own wrist. “You're not supposed to help bandits,” the girl said. “The soldiers will hang you now. You might as well have a brand like mine.”

  Sora had to resist the urge to laugh. Big words coming from a thirteen-year-old! “You're really cute,” she said, trying to hide her smile. “I don't care if you're a Raven or not. You're too young to be hanged for your crimes. Don't you have a family to return to? Somewhere to go?”

  The girl shook her head slowly.

  Ah, well, that explained a few things.

  “I'm an orphan,” she said. “My grandmother passed two years ago. I don't have anyone—especially not a sister.”

  Sora frowned, once again insulted. Who did this brat think she was? “Fine,” she snapped, and turned her horse around. She was no good with kids, anyway. “Go back to the Ravens and continue your life. I won't say anything.”

  “Wait!” the girl called.

  Sora glanced over her shoulder. “What?” she asked, letting her irritation show. She wasn't about to escort this girl to a bandit camp. That would be like stepping on a wasps' nest.

  “I–I didn’t mean to be rude,” the girl started hesitantly. Sora kept listening, but didn't stop her horse. “I... well... living on the streets doesn’t make you very trusting. I'm just trying to protect myself.”

  It sounded sad and lonely coming from someone so young. Sora grimaced, wishing she wasn't quite so soft. Ugh, here we go again, getting all wrapped up in other people's problems. She finally stopped her horse and turned back, a half-felt glare in her eye. “You're being a brat,” she said sharply.

  The girl's eyes were like two shiny puddles of water. “Not a lot of people are nice to orphans,” she burst out. “I didn’t expect you to help me out of that, I... I really am grateful!”

  Sora nodded. “So... you really tried to steal from the town treasury?”

  "Well, yeah,” the girl shrugged.

  "So you're a thief?" Like Dorian?

  She shrugged at this, too. “Sometimes, I guess. I joined the Ravens a few months ago. You do what you can to survive.”

  "Uh-huh," Sora said skeptically. She didn't think poverty was necessarily an excuse to become an outlaw. Bandits did more than just steal. But the girl probably didn't know any of that.

  Sora thought of her old companions, of the times she had spent around their campfire. Assassins, thieves and mercenaries. At least they had carried some sort of inner integrity, walking the line between lawful and lawless. Then she thought of the other prisoner, the buzzard, that sorry scrap of human debris. A shudder ran through her.

  “You know,” the girl said, all attitude gone. “That was really brave, what you did....”

  Sora resisted the urge to snort. That was nothing.

  The girl grinned, brushing a pale strand from her eyes. “What do you think of traveling as a pair? I’ve been wanting to get away from here, and you... well, you seem like a good person.”

  Sora was surprised by the change of attitude. So she's finally caught on. But could they really travel as a pair? Honestly, she'd been hoping to return the girl to her parents. “I’m looking for some friends of mine,” she finally said, reaching up to touch her Cat's Eye, hidden under her shirt. “I don’t think....”

  “Then I’ll help you,” the girl said firmly.

  Sora blinked. How much help can a thirteen-year-old possibly be? One more mouth to feed, and she was already low on provisions....

  Then again, it was a long, lonely ride. Her horse wasn't the most interesting person to talk to, and she couldn't just abandon a child.

  Sora wondered how far they were from the town, and how desperate the guards were to find them. It was impossible to tell. Finally, she let out a long groan. “All right. I suppose so,” she agreed. The girl was bound to bring trouble—but she could handle it.

  A smile broke across the girl's face. In that moment, she transformed from a ragged street child into a young woman: pronounced cheekbones, wide lips, a slight dimple in her chin. Her unusual coloring only added to the effect.

  Sora stared. I've seen that coloring before, she thought, frowning. I've seen it... but where?

  She turned away and pushed her steed into a trot, perhaps a bit harder than she meant to. The moment was broken, and she was eager to leave it behind. Why was she suddenly so unnerved?

  The girl followed. “They call me Laina, by the way,” she called, her voice soft on the wind.

  Sora sighed, already questioning her decision. “I’m Sora.”

  And the two continued across the fields.

  Where have I seen it before....

  Chapter 4

  The days passed more quickly with Laina there, despite Sora’s initial reluctance. Aside from the occasional bout of attitude, she proved to be useful at setting snares. They managed to catch quite a few rabbits. It was a relief, because Sora didn't know much about hunting or tracking animals, and truly, she wasn't eager to learn. She had to grit her teeth every time they found a rabbit in a snare, and forced herself to push a knife through its throat. It was ironic, to be sure. She could lay out a full-grown man—kill a Catlin by shoving a spear through its gut—but snaring rabbits gave her the willies. Ridiculous, she thought, more than once. What would Crash think of all this? Doubtlessly the assassin would sneer in disgust, then force her to kill more woodland creatures until it didn't bother her.

  She shivered with that thought, but it slowly turned to longing. Where are they?

  The Cat's Eye answered, Soon.

  Despite her skill at setting traps, Laina proved to be clumsy and useless at pretty much everything else. She tripped over bags, led her horse into brambles, spoke far too loudly and would even choke on her food. Sora tried to impress upon her the importance of silence—besides sparing my sanity, our voices carry much too far over the fields—but Laina either ignored her or genuinely forgot. She had a bossy, prying sort of curiosity, and often asked about their quest: who Sora's friends were, why she was trying to find them, and where exactly they were going. (Isn't it strangely dry for spring? Shouldn't there be more rainfall? I bet it's going to be a hot summer. I hope we find them soon because I burn really easily. Have you noticed there's a flu going around? Best to stay out of cities, I think. Say, we should go to the ocean!).

  Sora wasn't ready to share all of the details yet. She was still hoping to run across a caravan or maybe a small village and convince the teenage thief to go her own way. I can't babysit forever, she thought, watching as Laina attempted to ride her big, unwieldy horse.

  Besides that, Sora still held a sliver of doubt about her Cat's Eye. She had never used it like this before, as a sort of supernatural compass. Although she had a firm sense that it was leading her somewhere, but she wasn't exactly sure where that might be.
She often found herself wondering what Crash and Burn would think of Laina. She doubted their meeting would go over well. Maybe I should learn to set snares. I could set one for Laina and catch her in it...and leave her behind.... Sora laughed to herself.

  Sometimes, after her companion fell asleep, she would take out her rapier hilt and marvel at it. A sacred weapon of the Dark God, straight out of legend, now resting in her hands. Her mind would wander back to that day Crash and Burn had left, to their mud fight in the rain, how she had laughed until her body ached. She could remember Crash's sudden easiness, his hands running up the sides of her ribs and hitting all of her ticklish spots, as though they had known each other for years....

  Then, the inevitable pang of loss. She missed them sorely. Every night before she fell asleep, she would imagine a scene when she finally caught up with them. Will they be glad to see me? she wondered, fearing the worst. Will they welcome me back? She had been a burden before, but now things were different. She could hold her own. Or at least, she thought she could.

  It was on one such night, perhaps after a week of travel, that Sora fell asleep next to the fire... then awoke some hours later, inexplicably alert. Had it been a dream, or had she really heard something...?

  She wasn't usually a paranoid sleeper. It was the wilderness, after all, and animals made noises... but after opening her eyes, she noticed a strange silence. No hooting owls, no scampering mice. No crickets.

  She lay silent for a long moment, her staff in hand, her eyes traveling across the tall grass. What is it—a wolf? A wildcat? She hoped so; animals were easy to deal with. A wind brushed through the grass, passing over them like a wave, and then the fields grew still again. Their fire had burned down to a mere handful of embers, and her eyes were well-adjusted to the shadows. She had to suppress the urge to call out. Her heart was pounding, her ears straining so hard she thought they might twitch against her head.

  Then she saw them. Vague outlines hunkered down in the grass. They were creeping slowly around the fringes of their camp, toward Laina's sleeping form.