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

by T. L. Shreffler

Appropriately, it was still raining the next morning. If it had been bright and sunny, Sora would have felt even worse. She stayed in bed for a long time after waking up, staring out the window, watching the rain drip down the glass. Then she turned over and tried to go back to sleep. Maybe if I don't get up, they won't leave.

  There was a knock at the door.

  At first she ignored it, but after another series of knocks, she decided she was being childish. She rolled out of bed. "Just a moment!" she called. The knocking continued impatiently.

  She stood up and tied a bathrobe around her sleeping gown, blinking her eyes tiredly, then crossed the room and undid the bolt. The door blew inward, almost smacking her in the face.

  Burn rushed inside. He swept her into the air before she knew what was happening.

  "If you think you can make us wait forever, I'm afraid it won't work," he said, walking into the hall and down the stairs. "Can't stay in bed if I carry you, you see." His eyes met hers, losing a bit of their cheer. "We're almost ready to leave."

  Sora felt her heart sink. Burn kicked open the front door and strutted outside into the rain. He placed her lightly on the ground. She stood in the cold, her arms wrapped around herself, her hair drenched. A shiver ran through her as the gravel bit into the soles of her bare feet. At least the wind wasn't blowing too hard; otherwise she would have been completely miserable. Her bathrobe, which fell a little below her knees, was already soaked through. Her nightclothes clung like second skin.

  A sound came from her right. She turned to see Crash tying something to his horse; he seemed to be having quite a time of it. His tall black boots dug into the gravel as he pulled on a rope that kept slipping out of its knot. His muscles were tense, tight. He looked irritated.

  His heavy arm rested on her slim shoulders. Sora looked up at Burn. There was a slight smile on his face as he watched the assassin. Leaning over, he whispered, "Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

  Sora frowned at the odd suggestion, then looked over at Crash. Goodbye? she thought, a bit of anger coloring her thoughts. He wasn't going to say goodbye to me.

  Her eyes glanced to the ground.

  “Sure,” she said wryly, and bent down, scooping a large ball of mud out of a puddle. Burn watched her curiously, his ears twitching. She pulled back her arm, taking aim.

  “Sora,” he said slowly. “I don't think....”

  Sora hurled the ball of mud across the small gravel drive. It struck the back of Crash's neck with a satisfying splat! She grinned and put her hands on her hips, standing a bit taller.

  The assassin paused. He lifted a hand to the back of his neck. When he turned to look at her, she glared at him. “That's for wanting to leave without telling me!” she growled.

  Crash stared at her as though she had gone mad. Sora didn't care. On impulse, she reached down and grabbed another fistful of mud, packing it into a wet, slimy ball. “And this,” she said. “Is for dragging me through Fennbog!” She hurled the mud ball at him, already reaching for the next one. It struck him in the chest. Crash didn't even try to dodge.

  A burst of exhilaration moved through her, and Sora kept at it, slowly stepping forward, grabbing one clod of mud after the next. “And for tying me up!” she yelled, striking his shoulder. “And for stealing my money! And for drugging me! And for kidnapping me!” This time, she pelted the ball at his face.

  Finally he dodged, ducking beneath the flying wad of dirt.

  She threw herself at him, full of pent-up frustration. She didn't care that he was an assassin, that he could slit her throat faster than she could say his name. She launched into the air and tackled him, trying to shove him into a deep puddle next to the horse.

  Crash grappled with her, pushing her off, but she kept at it, slipping through his grip. It felt good to use her new-found combat skills. For a moment, they went toe to toe, sparring next to the horse. The assassin moved smoothly, like a snake in the grass, but Sora had anger on her side. She backed him around his steed, closer to the edge of the puddle. She got the feeling that he was letting her win.

  Sora wasn't sure if he meant to fall, or if he truly slipped on the wet ground. She suspected the former. Either way, he grabbed her arm and dropped backwards, dragging her with him. Sora screamed. The two went tumbling into the puddle, splashing into the muddy water as though falling into a lake.

  “Bastard!” Sora yelled, drenched. The water was cold and murky, almost a foot deep. She tried to drag herself out of the puddle, but Crash caught her ankle, pulling her back in.

  “Let me go!” she shrieked.

  “Not until you cool off,” the assassin replied, and dunked her back into the water.

  Sora came up spluttering, wiping dirt from her mouth. She glared at the assassin, taking a clumsy swipe at his head, which he easily evaded. He looked partly amused. She growled in frustration.

  Then a sound reached her ears. They both looked up and across the gravel drive.

  Burn was keeled over, howling with laughter, one hand to his ribs. After a moment, he sat down on the doorstep, still laughing.

  “You!” Sora barked, pointing a finger. “You're just as guilty as he is!”

  The Wolfy continued to laugh, choking with mirth, shaking his head.

  She scooped up another handful of mud, took aim, and hurled it at the giant Wolfy. He was an easy target. It hit him square in the chin, splattering against his shoulders and neck.

  Burn stopped laughing. He looked up, eyes glinting mischievously. Then he reached down and gathered his own ball of mud. “Catch!” he said, hurling it at her. He was a much larger man and it was a much larger projectile, almost like a cannonball.

  Sora threw herself to one side, narrowly dodging the throw. Splat! When she turned, she saw that it had hit Crash in the torso, further muddying his clothes.

  The assassin sat for a moment, looking down at himself, then at Burn. Then, turning, his eyes met Sora's. A sudden, silent communication passed between them.

  The air erupted with battle cries and they all dove to the ground, grabbing fistfuls of mud. Before a minute had passed, the air was full of mud bombs. Burn ducked behind a large water trough, then sent a mud ball hurtling at Sora. She dropped to the ground. Crash dodged the flying mud and smoothly returned the fire, hitting Burn in the shoulder. Sora leapt up again, throwing a missile of her own. She missed Burn's head by inches.

  "You almost took my ear off!" the Wolfy shouted above the pouring rain.

  Sora laughed suddenly. The sound bubbled up from inside of her, joyous and unexpected. Laughing? On this day?

  Then Burn launched over the water trough, charging at them headlong. Sora cried out, momentarily panicked. The Wolfy was huge, almost seven feet tall; he resembled a barreling horse. There was no time to get out of the way. The Wolfy bowled into his two companions, taking both Sora and Crash to the ground, landing them all back in the puddle.

  Bodies were everywhere. Sora couldn't tell which limb belonged to whom. She tried to wiggle away but Burn grabbed her leg and dragged her back down. With a squeal of surprise, Sora felt the Wolfy run his hands up the sides of her feet. She thrashed like a caught fish and landed on top of Crash, who had been wrestling away from Burn, trapped beneath his immense weight.

  “Look at that!” Burn crowed. “I can take on both of you! One in each hand!” He pinned Crash's arm behind his back, shoving the assassin back down into the water. With his other hand, he snaked his fingers beneath Sora's arms, catching her in a ticklish spot.

  Now helpless with laughter, Sora begged him to stop. Rain dripped from her nose and cheeks, landing in her mouth as it fell from the sky. Hardly able to breathe, she fancied that she would drown if they kept this up.

  Finally, Burn let go of her. He sat on Crash for a moment longer, then stood up, brushing off his clothes in a dignified manner. “There,” he said. “That should teach you both not to fight.”

  Sora squirmed her way onto the driveway and sat down in the gravel, panting for breath, utte
rly exhausted. She could feel a deep ache between her ribs; it was the remnant of the wound, still healing internally. She sighed. Perhaps her mother had been right. Maybe she wasn't as recovered as she had thought. She glanced around, hoping the woman hadn't witnessed the mud fight, but her mother had gone to town with Cameron on errands.

  Burn seemed to echo her thoughts. He paused next to her, looking down, a fond smile on his face. "I wonder what your mother would think of all this?"

  Sora blushed, though she wasn't sure why. I just attacked an assassin, she thought, shaking her head. When had she become so bold?

  Her eyes wandered to the man in question. Crash was standing next to his steed, his back to her, brushing off as much dirt as he could. She glanced down at her ruined nightgown and tried not to feel dismayed. It was made of very fine material. Lorianne would not be pleased.

  Then Burn started towards his own horse. "We should head out," he said quietly.

  Immediately, all the joy and laughter was forgotten. Sora felt a gaping hole open in her chest. Her two closest friends were about to leave. She wasn't fit to go with them. The tears that stung her eyes were hidden by the rain.

  "Don't go," she whispered, almost against her will.

  Burn turned back to her, his gaze unexpectedly kind. "Believe me, I would stay if I had a choice," he said quietly. "I'll miss you, Sora."

  She sighed. His words didn't offer any comfort. Losing Dorian was hard enough. Now she would have to let them go, too. She focused on the ground, on the tiny shards of gravel, chunks of granite and white quartz.

  Abruptly a shadow fell across her. She looked up, staring at Crash's outstretched hand. His boots hadn't made any noise on the rocks.

  She took his hand, surprised. He pulled her to his feet. She stood there for a moment, gazing up at him, taking in his cunning face, his smooth jaw and dark brows. His eyes, softened by the overcast sky, had turned almost gray.

  “For you,” he murmured. He pressed a package into her hands. The small bundle was folded in brown paper.

  Sora stared, shocked. She didn't know what to say. His hands clasped hers for a moment, as though he actually wanted to linger, to say something more. Then he stepped back. “Goodbye,” he murmured.

  Crash turned and walked swiftly, silently on the gravel, back to his horse. It was as though he couldn't get away from her fast enough.

  "Burn, let's go," he called. His voice was no longer soft or friendly, but cold and rigid, like the assassin she had come to know. She watched as he donned his cloak and pulled up his hood, obscuring his face. Just like that, he transformed into a different person, someone unknown and untouchable, as though they had never traveled the swamp together. All those months were suddenly erased. She was staring at a black-clad warrior, the kind of man one would avoid on the street. Perhaps it had all been an act—the teasing, the mud fight, the whole damned thing.

  When she focused next, both men were astride their new steeds, settling into the wet saddles. Crash didn't acknowledge her again, turned his horse and started down the road at a fast trot, traveling quickly through the forest, away from her mother's house.

  "Don't forget us!" Burn called, waving to her.

  Sora managed a smile and a wave, but she felt sick. Her stomach sank. She watched as he followed the assassin down the road. The arch of large pine trees created a natural tunnel around them. The rain slapped against the broad leaf ferns, a soothing percussion, accented by the clip-clop of the horses' hooves.

  Sora stood and followed them to the mouth of the road, wishing she could be by their side. Forget them? Never. She would probably think about them every day for the rest of her life.

  The two horses moved into a canter. Numbly, she watched them grow smaller and smaller, fading into the cloudy, rain-drenched woods. Finally she allowed tears to fill her eyes, and took a faltering step forward. "Come back," she whispered, choking. "Come back!"

  Starting to run, suddenly desperate, she yelled, "COME BACK!"

  But they were too far away to hear her, not that they would have turned around. She came to a stumbling halt, her feet squishing in the mud. She had never felt so unwanted, so frustrated. So alone. Sora watched until they were mere dots against the trees, then fragments of cloud, then swallowed up by the rain.

  Then she looked down at the package in her hands.

  Sora walked back up the gravel drive and opened the door to her mother's house, struggling not to look over her shoulder. They were gone; it was no use. She stopped by the closet in the front room to grab a warm blanket. A hot bath sounded good, too. Next, she would set a cauldron over the fire.

  She paused by the dining table. It was overtaken by herbs and flowers, each clumped into piles and then lined up into rows. Her mother's work. She cleared a small space at the end and looked at the package that Crash had given her, wondering if she dared open it. She almost didn't want to, but curiosity got the better of her. Fingers numb from the cold, she haltingly unwrapped the brown paper.

  A red bundle fell out, a second wrapping. Sora frowned and picked up the soft velvet cloth. Unfolded it.

  At first she didn't know what it was. A large black shape, strange carvings on the handle. It appeared to be the hilt of a weapon, perhaps a sword, though the blade was missing. She stared at it in confusion, frowning, then abruptly she remembered.

  This was the same sword that had almost killed her.

  Why in the world would Crash give this to her? She thoughtfully turned the object in her hands. Her fingers traced the designs carved into the thick leather wrapping. It was unexpectedly heavy and cold to the touch.

  Suddenly, a small note fell out of the hole where the blade would have fit, landing on the desk. Sora blinked, surprised. She picked it up. Unfolded it. She could only assume that it was Crash's handwriting. It twisted and curled across the page.

  For the first time I felt fear.

  Clutching the note, Sora started to cry. The tears came suddenly, forcefully, unbidden. Her shoulders shook and she couldn't breathe. Her adventure was over—over, and yet she felt completely empty, drained to her core. She couldn't imagine a future alone with her mother—not after these men had changed her life. Would they ever come back? Would she ever see them again?

  A small part of her mind, the part connected to the Cat's Eye, whispered—yes.

  Viper's Creed

  (The Cat's Eye Chronicles, Book 2)

  by

  T. L. Shreffler

  Prologue