“We need to leave,” Sora said. “Now.”
Burn frowned. “What happened?”
She paused, not knowing how to explain. It had taken half the night for Caprion to outline his intentions, and even then, she wasn't completely convinced that he was trustworthy. “Caprion took me on a tour of the city,” she said briefly. “He told me that the Matriarch plans on imprisoning us. We need to leave tonight.”
Burn's expression grew darker. Sora knew that this brief explanation would not satisfy him. With a deep breath, she quickly rattled off the details of the evening, describing her visit with Crash and the location of the stone circle. Burn listened intently, gazing at the canopy in thought.
“I made a deal with him,” she said. “He’ll travel with us in return for Crash's release.”
Burn gave her an alarmed glance. “Sora....”
“I know, it's risky,” she agreed. She put up a hand to stop him from speaking. “But you should have seen Crash. He was injured....” her voice died in her throat. She pushed herself to continue, “I need you to promise me that, if I die in battle, you'll see that Caprion gets passage overseas.”
Burn looked at her gravely. “Of course,” he said, still considering her words. He looked troubled. “I am so very sorry, Sora, for dragging you into this. It really is my fault. I should have forced you to get away from Volcrian when you had the chance. You're too young....”
She reached out and took his hand, giving him a quick smile. “But I'm here, right? We have to make the best of this.” She squeezed his big hand tightly. “I know what I'm risking.”
“As do I,” Burn sighed. It was a heavy sound. For a moment he looked terribly sad, full of regret. “And you've already risked too much.”
Sora frowned at him. She didn't know what to say. The silence stretched.
“Can we trust him?” Burn finally asked, changing the subject, referring back to Caprion.
Sora hesitated. “I don't know for sure. I know it sounds unlikely....”
“What do you think?” he pressed. “You spoke to him. I trust your judgment.”
She thought back over the events of the night, Caprion's words and his actions. “I think we can,” she finally said.
“Then we will. Gather your things quickly.”
“I already have them,” she replied, indicating her daggers and staff. She grinned slightly, and Burn gave her a look of approval.
“Always prepared,” he said. “But I'll need a minute to pack my bag.”
“Then I'll speak to Laina,” Sora said. She sighed inwardly. She wondered if everything had gone well with the Matriarch—if the girl was over her infatuation, or much the opposite.
She left Burn's room quickly and rushed down the hallway. Now she would have to confront the young girl. She anticipated resistance.
When she entered the room, Laina was standing in front of a mirror, staring at her own reflection. Sora paused. The young girl was dressed in a similar white shirt and breeches, with an airy robe covering her small frame. But her hair had been intricately braided on top of her head, woven through with flowers and gold pins. Had the Matriarch done it? One of her handmaids?
“Sora!” the girl said, turning to look at her. “Can you believe it? I have Harpy blood!”
Sora gave her a wary smile. “Yes, it's wonderful,” she said sincerely. “I'm happy for you.”
Laina beamed at her, then pranced away from the mirror, opening the wardrobe on the opposite wall. “Just look at all of these clothes that the Matriarch gave me! Have you ever seen such beautiful fabrics? I could buy a month's worth of bread with one dress alone!”
Sora gazed into the wardrobe, looking at the various colored garments. They were beautifully crafted, though a bit out of fashion. She doubted the Harpies kept up with mainland trends. Laina didn't know that Sora had once been part of the nobility, and had worn fancier dresses in her younger days. She thought of the dress she had worn for her own Blooming, a frilly pink thing of various layers, jewels sewn into the neckline. She had ripped it to pieces after the dance, tossing it into a closet
“Laina,” she said quietly, clearing her throat. “We need to leave tonight.”
Laina's smile melted into a look of confusion. “But you can't! The Matriarch has a feast planned for us tomorrow. Besides, aren't you and Burn being held captive?”
Sora put her hands on her hips. “We're all captives here,” she ground out.
Laina raised an eyebrow. “Not me,” she said. “The Matriarch has given me my own house. Can you believe that? A real house!”
Sora wanted to roll her eyes. The girl was completely clueless. The Matriarch was bribing her in order to get information. After speaking with Caprion, she highly doubted that the Harpies cared about a half-breed girl.
“What did you tell her?” Sora asked bluntly, taking a step toward Laina.
The girl's eyes widened. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, what did you speak about over dinner? Did you talk about Crash?”
Laina grinned. “Oh, don't be so worried! She knew that we were all traveling together. I told her that I didn't like him much, and she said that it was in my blood.” Laina raised an eyebrow. “She also told me something terrible about him. Do you know what he is?”
“You told her we were all companions?” Sora stuttered, still hung up on the first part of Laina's disclosure.
Laina had the decency to look ashamed. “I'm sorry,” she said briefly. “But she already knew!”
Sora thought of Caprion's warning and wondered if his soldiers would turn up soon. She took a deep, steadying breath. “Never mind that,” she said stiffly. “We're in danger here and we need to leave. Now.”
“Why?” Laina asked, her voice turning stubborn. “I like it here!”
“We're not safe,” Sora repeated with urgency. She took a few steps toward the girl, reaching out to grab her arm. Laina backed away angrily. Sora continued, “Tomorrow the Matriarch is going to have us arrested, maybe killed, and Volcrian....”
“Ugh!” Laina burst out, throwing her arms up in the air. “You're so concerned about Volcrian! The Matriarch is going to protect us. Besides, I feel good here, like I belong.” She paused, glancing at the mirror again. “My entire life, I've felt unwanted and alone, and now I know why. The Harpies understand me, Sora.” She stopped and looked at her. “They think I still have a great-aunt alive. Someone who knew my grandmother...or my grandmother's mother, something like that. They're very long-lived. The Matriarch says she will take me to meet her....”
Sora felt her frown deepen. She didn't like the direction of this conversation. Had the Matriarch influenced her so completely? “But you also have a human family, don't you?” she said softly.
Laina pointed a finger at herself, her face twisting into a scowl. “If I do, then they don't want me,” she said. “And I am better than that! I feel like I have a place here. Some day, I might even have wings!” Then she laughed, a sound that was far too cynical for a thirteen-year-old girl. “I know what this is about,” she said knowingly. “You're jealous!”
Sora balked at that. “What? No!”
The girl's expression turned snide. “Then it's about your dear, precious assassin, isn't it? Poor Crash finally got put in a prison, where he belongs!”
Sora straightened up, her shoulders going tense. “You don't know what you're talking about.”
“Oh?” Laina taunted. “Don't I? I knew he was evil since I first laid eyes on him, but you just wouldn't listen to me.” She looked inordinately pleased with herself.
Sora didn't know what to say to that. Laina and Crash didn't like each other, but that wasn't so unusual. Sora hadn't liked Crash either when she had first met him.
“He's from a bastard race,” Laina continued, “an abomination, a creature of the Dark God! And I, a lowly street child, am one of the First Order chosen to destroy his kind!" The girl made a dramatic flourish, and Sora looked on in shock, unable to believe her ears.
“What worries me the most is how badly you've been tricked. You are so far under his thrall that you can't even see the truth.”
"His thrall?" Sora repeated. She didn't know whether to laugh at the girl's outburst or reach for her daggers.
“Yes! You might not realize it," Laina said, leaning closer to her, as though sharing an important secret, “but the Matriarch told me everything. Crash has you under a spell.”
“What?” Sora choked.
Laina nodded, her soft gray eyes now sharp and fevered, imbued with passion. "Yes, a spell. I've known it since I first saw you together! It's very, very obvious.”
Sora almost laughed at the girl's expression. She looked far too convinced for her own good. “Laina, you don't understand,” she said, trying not to grin. “Crash can't put me under a spell, it's impossible.”
"No, Sora, you're not listening!" Laina yelled.
Sora flinched backwards, surprised by the outburst. A tremor moved through her Cat's Eye, warning her to be cautious. The Harpies were playing with Laina's mind. She wasn't thinking straight.
“I need to make you understand!” Laina insisted. “Crash has you under his influence. He's using you, manipulating you to get what he wants. Can't you see that? Dear Goddess, he's not even human! He's less than human, less than an animal! How can you let him touch you?"
“What are you talking about?” Sora snapped, her voice hardening a notch.
At that, Laina exploded. She started ranting at the top of her lungs. "You're his lover, Sora!" she screamed. “It makes me sick to think of it! How many times?” she demanded. “How many times have you let him use you? I admired you for so long—I thought you were such a good person, with such a strong sense of honor....” Her voice wavered. For a moment, her expression changed and Sora caught a glimpse of that young girl again, the one she had rescued from the jailhouse, uncertain, vulnerable. Then Laina's gaze clouded with anger. She took a deep breath and began advancing on Sora purposefully, as though she meant to attack her. “I'm here to stop it,” she spat. “I won't let him use you anymore. I won't let you become his whore!”
Smack!
The sound cracked the air. Sora's hand stung from the slap, her breath heaving in her lungs.
Laina collapsed to the ground, shocked into silence, her arm thrown protectively over her face. A strangled sob ripped from the girl's throat.
“Don't you ever,” Sora hissed, "ever speak like that again! Crash is not my lover and he would never treat me like a whore!"
Laina stayed on the ground, still trembling from the blow. Sora's fist ached from the force of it. She might have broken the girl's nose, she didn't know for sure. She had lashed out viciously, unable to control herself.
But as she stared at the girl, she felt the guilt and pity drain out of her. Suddenly, Sora was filled with a cold hardness. She had endangered all of their lives. They were lucky that the Matriarch herself wasn't in that room, waiting to imprison them. Volcrian was all that mattered now.
Sora leaned over Laina's body, speaking fiercely into her ear. “If you want to live with the Harpies, so be it. You have my blessing. But once we leave, we can't come back for you.” She paused. She wanted to say more, but she couldn't waste any more time. “Take care of yourself.” Then she stood up, turned away, and strode swiftly from the room.
Burn was waiting for her out in the hallway. Considering his long ears, Sora was certain that he had heard everything. He gave her a sad look, but didn't question the situation. Instead, he fell into step behind her.
“I didn't want it to be this way,” Sora said as they dashed for the outside balcony.
“I know,” he said hollowly. “But she made her choice.”
His words struck her more than Laina's actions had. Burn had always been fond of the girl, catering to her like a daughter. And yet he still followed Sora down the stairs without hesitation. He understood the gravity of the situation—exactly what was at stake.
Yet Sora couldn't shake the feeling that they were abandoning her...and for him to say that....
It's because of Volcrian, she thought, reining in her emotions. We don't have time for this now.
Sometimes being a warrior meant that she had to be logical. Crash had taught her that, and Burn knew it, too.
They ran into the night, making for the nearby woodland. Sora could remember where the circle of stones sat, several miles to the east of Asterion. They started in that direction, using the stars as their guide.
* * *
A flicker of light entered his vision. Crash gritted his teeth. Pain coursed through him with each heartbeat, focusing him, fueling him.
The light approached through the dark cell, taking on the figure of a man. He walked a half-inch above the ground, no footsteps. When Crash used his demon's eyes, he could see a halo of six wings surrounding the man's back. They glimmered translucently.
He recognized the bastard—the one who had taken his dagger, who had chained him to the wall. General, the soldiers had called him, not that his title made a difference. He would bleed the same as any man.
The Harpy knelt before him. A sickening vibration passed over Crash's skin. The sunstone flared at his neck in response; pain shot up his throat, down his limbs.
He coughed up blood and spat at the man's boots. The General didn't flinch. Wordlessly, he took out a key and began unlocking Crash's chains. They fell to the ground with a loud clank. Next, the man released the iron collar with its sunstone. As the collar was pried away from his flesh, Crash felt a great surge of agony, his muscles cramping, his skin tearing. Then the pain passed. All of the strength left him, as though a great wind had swept through his body. He caved forward, struggling to breathe.
The man fully removed the collar and tossed it to one side. Crash could only sit, holding himself up with his arms, gathering enough strength to attack.
“Before you kill me,” the General said in a low, taunting voice, “you should know that I've come to release you.”
Crash spat more blood at his feet. “Why?”
“Because I promised the girl with the Cat's Eye that I would.”
Crash bristled, immediately suspicious. “Why are you helping us?”
“Let's say we have a common enemy,” he murmured. He settled his right hand on his belt, directly upon Crash's Named weapon—the Viper. “The Matriarch told me to kill Sora tonight.”
“Touch her, and I'll rip off your hands.”
The General paused, glancing at his slumped, bruised body. A look of distaste touched his lips. “Fortunately for you,” he murmured, “I didn't.”
At the General's mocking words, Crash felt a cold fire light within him. His muscles tightened. His head throbbed. With the sunstone removed, nothing restrained his demon's power—only his own will. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked quietly. I'm going to tear out your throat.
“Because I want you to trust me.”
Crash could have laughed. Hatred surged. He grinned up at the Harpy, full of malice.
The General spread his hands in appeasement, like comforting a sick man. “We are on the same side, you and I. We both want to see the bloodmage killed, and your party return safely to the mainland.”
“And why would you want that?”
“For the sake of good deeds, of course,” he replied, and flashed a condescending smile, sharp as a knife. “I don't need a reason to do what is right...unlike an assassin.”
Enough. Crash's hatred fueled his strength. He launched to his feet. His shadow lengthened, enveloping the Harpy in a rush of black smoke, twisting around his white body and dousing his glow.
The Harpy stumbled back, taken off-guard. He flailed uselessly. The shadow wrapped around his arms and legs in a thick web. It tightened around his throat and smothered his wings, extinguishing their light like a snuffed candle. The room fell to blackness.
Instantly, Crash stood behind him. He slipped his dagger from the man's belt and held it to his navel. At the touch of the blade
, the General went still.
“Harpies,” Crash spat. “Pathetic, always preying on the weak. You've never fought one of the Named, have you?” He dug the blade a little deeper. “Never let your guard down.”
The man struggled against the grip of Crash's shadow, choking on it, suffocating. It damped his voice, stifling his magic. “I released you for Sora,” he wheezed.
“A mistake on your part,” Crash growled.
“I spared her life!”
Crash paused. He was sorely tempted to shove his blade clear through the man's intestines, but a small, nagging doubt entered his thoughts....
“If you come near her again, I'll kill you,” he said.
He turned, his shadow wrapping around him, and vanished into the early-morning darkness.
* * *
By the time they could hear the ocean, the sun was already breaking the horizon, casting gold light across the water. Burn paused at the edge of the stone circle.
They found a large tree with a gap between its roots, and set up camp inside the hollow trunk, hidden from sight. They took turns sleeping as the other kept watch. Several times, Sora heard distant horn-calls or shouting voices. But Caprion kept his word, and no figures descended from the sky.
Toward late evening, there was an ominous rustle in the foliage above them. It was Sora's turn to keep watch. She sat at the very edge of the tree roots, hidden amongst a thick bushel of ferns. She peeked up at the sky. No sign of Harpies....
A shadow dropped from the tree next to them. She bit her lip, barely containing a cry. At first she thought it was a large jungle cat, but the figure uncoiled from the ground and stood there, leaning against the tree trunk, one hand held out to support himself.
Crash.
She rose silently to her feet, wanting to run to him, but he crossed to her first. “Hush,” he murmured, glancing toward the sky. “They're still searching for us.”
His voice shocked her. It was raspy and sore, huskier than she remembered. Painful to listen to.
Sora couldn't contain herself. She embraced him in a swift, fierce hug. His arms wrapped around her and he pushed her back into the shade of the tree roots, until they were hidden once again. They both knelt down in the shelter of the ferns. She sat back to look at him, drinking in the sight.