Sora's Quest (Cat's Eye #1) by T. L. Shreffler
She turned and the man was gone. She couldn't stay in this room with all of the blood; she couldn't stand to step in it. She looked around frantically for an escape. The blood was quickly consuming the floor, drenching her expensive rugs. She didn't want it to touch her feet. She danced around the edges of the pool, running toward the open window — it was the only exit.
She reached the window. Now what? Then a voice drifted over the windowsill, gusting the curtains. “Sora!”
She swallowed. “Dorian?” she cried back. It sounded like the Wolfy, but he seemed far away, indistinct. She climbed up onto the window, her eyes searching the ground — was it just her, or did it appear a lot farther away than she remembered?
“Sora! You have to jump! Jump off!”
She couldn't do it. She hesitated, fear consuming her. Blood was filling up the room behind her and she had to jump, she had to, but she was afraid, terrified, frozen....
“Sora! Come on!” Dorian's voice again. Suddenly the wind gusted, howling behind her, and Sora's foot slipped. She scrabbled, trying to get a hold of the window frame, but it was impossible. She lost her balance and, with a horrible scream, tumbled out the window, head over heels, the world spinning around her....
“Sora!” Dorian’s voice brought her from the dream and back to raging reality. With a cry of dismay, she sat up, disoriented and heart pounding — the saddle was empty. There was nothing to grab in front of her but the horse's mane. She looked around. Dorian was gone from his position, and with good cause, too.
The horse was sinking, already up to its chest in mud. It enveloped the tips of her boots.
“Sora, over here! Take my hand!” The voice came from above her. Sora twisted around to see Burn’s huge hand reaching for her from the branches of a tree. She grabbed for it, but before she could make contact, the horse thrashed beneath her. It whinnied in terror and almost threw her light weight from the saddle, bucking against the deep mud, sinking another inch past its belly. Sora tried to stay in the saddle but ended up halfway out, spilled to one side. Stupid horse! Now she was sinking, too.
“Just calm down and move slowly!” Burn called to her. “I’m a bit closer now... take my hand!”
She saw him lean forward off of a thick branch. He gripped the tree with his legs and extended his full torso through the air, reaching with all of his strength. His hand was close... so close... yet so far away.... Another tide of panic assaulted her, and Sora heard tiny, unintelligible sounds coming from her throat. The horse shook and she was pulled farther under the sludge. It was like trying to fight a noose; once the mud got a hold of her, it wouldn't let go. How can I move slowly when I’m sinking by the second?
“Burn, I’m too short, I can’t reach!” she shouted, her voice wild, desperate. The stench of the swamp was all around her, and the concealing mist felt like a tight box.
“Dammit, Dorian, why did you leave her there?” the mercenary roared, and Sora was more terrified at the sound than anything she had heard in her life. Her head shot around and she saw Dorian huddled in the crotch of a tree, pale and sweating.
“I-I....” the Wolfy stuttered, and looked at Sora helplessly. “I'm sorry! I panicked!”
Burn turned back to her and tried to reach her again. He strained down from the gray bark. “Just a few inches!” he called.
Sora felt like she was stretching her arm out of its socket. She had almost cross the distance when the horse gave another terrified thrash and pulled her downward. “My foot is caught in the stirrup!” she screamed.
“Here, move aside!” a new voice said, and Crash entered the scene, climbing deftly over Burn's body as though he were an extension of the tree. “I’ll get her the easy way.”
Took you long enough! Sora wanted to scream, but was too busy fighting the quicksand. By now the horse had given up in exhaustion, and was up to its neck in mud. Sora wasn't doing much better. She felt sorry for the beast, but even sorrier for herself. She could feel her heart hammering against her ribs, her breath tight in her lungs, constricted by mud. Dear gods I’m going to die I’m going to die....
“Get ready to grab her,” she heard Crash say to Burn. Then, much to her shock, the assassin dropped gracefully into the sinkhole. Splat! The mud splashed her face. She grimaced, spitting it out of her mouth. She would have wiped her eyes but her arms were almost immobile.
Then he was next to her, reaching for her, half-submerged in the mud. “I’ve got you,” he said, and grabbed her arm. With a yank that almost dislocated her shoulder, he hauled her away from the horse and through the quicksand, straight to his side. Sora grabbed Crash and clung to his muddy form like a leech.
“Burn! Pull us in!” the assassin called. It was then that she saw the rope tied around his chest, looped securely under his arms, the other end in Burn's hands. The giant Wolfy tugged them slowly toward the tree, yank by agonizing yank. She pressed her head against Crash's shoulder, his arm like an anchor, a lifeline. She gripped him tighter.
When she looked up, the assassin was staring at her, eyes glinting. He quickly looked away.
Then Burn grabbed her by her shirt and hefted her fully out of the mud; Sora felt like a kitten being lifted into the air. She landed on a firm branch and clung to it resolutely, pressing her face against the tree, eyes shut tight. Crash was pulled up next and he cut the rope from his chest, letting it fall back into the sinkhole.
Dorian scrambled to the branch next to her. It was easy to move around in the trees; the branches were as thick as logs. He knelt down nearby. “Sora! Are you alright?”
“No,” she grumbled. In actuality she felt fine, just dirty. But she was out of breath and shaken by the whole experience. Slowly, she dragged herself into a sitting position, and lightly touched the Cat's Eye. A vague remnant of the dream returned to her, but the more she tried to remember it, the more it faded away.
“Well, we've lost the horses,” Crash's voice reached her, “and most of our supplies. Wonderful.”
“The map?” Dorian asked.
“Right here,” Burn replied, and showed the parchment stashed in his belt.
“So now what?” Sora asked, looking down at the soft ground; there were slight indentations where the horses had sunk. It left her cold. “We can't travel through this on foot, it's impossible.”
“We'll use the trees,” Crash said.
Sora wanted to laugh — and not in a friendly way. “What, like squirrels?”
“Actually,” Dorian said, cutting her off. “It makes perfect sense. Just take a look around. The trees are so thick and the branches so huge, it won't be hard at all.” Then a wry grin tugged at his lips. “Or are you worried you'll lose your balance?”
After the countless hours of fighting lessons and training, the comment was a definite challenge. Sora raised her head, forgetting her exhaustion. “No! Of course not,” she said. He had a point — the trees were very large and thick, and many were grown together, their branches fused as one. “It'll be easy. I'm ready when you are.”
Dorian threw his head back and laughed. Sora shrugged and looked around, catching Burn's amused glance. “Well, I am,” she muttered.
“How about a rest first?” Burn offered. He was sitting comfortably on one of the branches, a piece of travel bread in hand. “I think we're all a little hungry.”
Sora nodded. She was always ready to eat. “Pass me the water?” she asked.
Burn complied wordlessly.
* * * * *
“Thank you... for saving me....” Sora murmured in embarrassment.
Crash didn't even look up from his meal.
The four travelers sat uneasily around their camp. Day had turned to night and the darkness was absolute, without even the slightest hint of light. There was no moon, no nearby towns, not even the flicker of stars; their campfire did very little to illuminate the trees. Everything was cast in perfect shadow and almost-perfect silence. The only sound was the wind, which murmured apologetically through the leaves.
She wasn't sure what made her approach Crash. Perhaps she had been given too much time to think. He had helped her out of trouble back in Mayville, and now he had saved her from drowning. He acted like a coldhearted killer, but there was a man in there somewhere... maybe.
Or maybe not. He still hadn't responded. He was chewing his dinner, dried meat from one of the salvaged saddlebags.
“I... uh, look, I appreciate what you did,” she stuttered.
“For not leaving you to drown?” he grunted. “Don't. I didn't do it for you.”
Sora blinked indignantly, slightly insulted. She touched her Cat's Eye. Then glared. “Fine. Forget I said anything.”
“I already have.”
She didn't know what else to say. She sat down as far away from him as possible, hoping her companions hadn't overheard; neither of them looked at her. She bit into her own strip of dried meat and tried not to linger on his words. He's just a bastard. I knew that before. Nothing's changed. But the rejection still stung.
Trying to distract herself, she turned to Burn, who was studying the map. “So,” she began, still chewing. She rummaged for something to say, anything to recover from the brief exchange with Crash. “So... so I hear you can use magic?”
The mercenary glanced at her. His right ear twitched. “Did you? Who told you that?”
Sora fished around for the right words. “Well, I thought... with you being a Wolfy and all....”
Burn sighed and put the map away, turning more fully towards her. His gold eyes glinted in the firelight. His broad, masculine face was smudged with mud and dirt. “Just because I'm a Wolfy doesn't mean I can use magic. Magic is a complicated thing. One is lucky to be born with it.”
Sora frowned. “Born with it? But isn't it learned?”
Burn shook his head, a slight smile on his face. “Well, of course a human wouldn't understand,” he said, amused. “Wolfies are not all the same. There are the mages and the mercenaries — the magic users and the warriors. Dorian is quite different than me... don't you think?”
Sora glanced to the sleeping thief and looked at his silver hair, his small stature. She nodded.
“Well, he is a magic user, a mage. The Wolfy mages are born with the ability to use magic, but their spells still must be learned and studied. Not all of the races are like that. Me? I'm just a mercenary, a warrior. No, I can't use magic. In that sense, I might as well be human.”
Sora didn't like the way he said “human,” like it was such a bad thing, but she tried to look past it. “I really don't know that much about Wolfies or the races,” she said.
Burn shrugged. "I can tell you a lifetime's worth of Wolfy heritage," he said, "but I'm sure you'd fall asleep. What do you want to know about the races? Go ahead. Ask. I can't promise I'll know the answers, but....”
Sora brightened at the invitation. To be honest, she thought about magic and its uses almost every day, especially in regards to her Cat's Eye. She almost felt like a magic-user herself, though she knew that wasn't entirely true. "Well,” she finally said, “any information would be nice."
"What would you like to know?" he repeated.
She decided to ask the obvious. "What about the magic of the races? Are they all different?”
Burn's grin widened. "Ah, well that's basic enough... I'm surprised you haven't heard more about it. Now....” He paused in thought and Sora waited impatiently, picking at her fingers, full of curiosity. Finally, he continued. “You know that there are five races, don't you? Catlins, Dracians, Wolfies, Humans and Harpies?”
No, she didn't, but Sora nodded anyway.
“Alright. Then you should understand that all magic is technically the same thing... it's a certain energy, a lifeforce, you could say. But it can be used in different ways. In this case, each race has its own way of using magic. Let's start with Wolfies, since I am one," he explained. "Magic only runs in one half of the Wolfy race. So Dorian can use it, but I can't. Mages and mercenaries, right? Wolfies use blood magic. They take the lifeforce found in blood and manipulate it using different spells. That's what makes it so powerful: anything is possible with the right spell. No limits.”
"Makes sense,” Sora said, though she didn't fully understand how one could use blood for magic. “What about the others?”
"Well, there are the Catlins," Burn continued. "We're in the swamp, so you might want to know about them. They are the most primitive and beast-like of the races. They use their magic through nature, like making plants grow or controlling the terrain. They create forests of giant trees so they can build their colonies inside of them. Otherwise, they are physically strong enough not to need much magic at all.
“Harpies are another of the races, and they use song and star magic; they are known by their entrancing, hypnotic voices. Each Harpy has unique wings; they might look solid, but they are made out of pure energy and can be hidden from sight. The larger and brighter the Harpy's wings, the more powerful its magic.”
Sora was spellbound, her mind drawing pictures of magnificent beings with shining white wings. "Are there any Harpies left?" she asked.
"A few, more than the Wolfies," Burn answered briefly.
“What about the other races?” Sora asked. She had already forgotten their names.
"There are a few others,” Burn said. “The Dracians all use elemental magic. Meaning, they can control the six elements: Wind, Fire, Water, Air, Earth, Light, and Dark. Each Dracian is born with its own element and trained accordingly. They also have the ability to shape-shift, and can transform at will into creatures that are much like giant lizards." Burn winked at her. "Otherwise, they look quite human."
Sora nodded. "And... I guess that's it, right?" she asked. “Because humans can't use magic?”
"To my knowledge, there has never been a human recorded who could use magic. Enchanted weapons, perhaps... but any of the races can do that."
Sora shifted, amazed at all this information. She wished sorely that she could use magic, her own secret power — the Cat's Eye didn't seem like much in comparison. Why hadn't they included all of this in her history books? Shouldn't the world know about the races? She wondered how many spells had been lost and forgotten — how much knowledge, wasted. And to think, magic was never lost, she thought. Humans just aren't able to use it. What would happen after the races all perished? Would magic be forgotten about for good?
She was about to ask why Humans were so limited, and how all the races were created in the first place, when a sudden movement from Crash caught her attention. He sat up straight, his head turned to one side, listening very intently. Then abruptly he waved his arm and said very quietly, "Hush!"
Burn's ears twitched and he went silent. Sora listened too, suddenly worried. She wondered if she should wake Dorian, who was rolled up in his cloak, sleeping several yards away – but she didn't get the chance.
Burn nodded to Crash, and the assassin leapt to his feet. Without warning, he threw a pocket of mud onto the fire, dousing it completely, plunging them into complete darkness.
Sora's heart pounded and she reached for her belt, where she kept her daggers. Was it an animal of some kind? She couldn't imagine. She could see Burn's eyes glowing eerily in the darkness, a familiar gold. All of the travelers were silent. She could hear Crash moving quietly around the camp, gathering his weapons... what was going on? She wanted to ask, but also didn't want to make a sound.
Her eyes slowly began to adapt. Sora could see a silvery mist dr
Bells. The Cat's Eye!
Sora shook her head, but couldn’t shake the noise. She felt like she couldn't hear anything else. She launched to her feet, prepared for an attack, unsure of what to expect.
The warning wasn’t a moment too soon. Suddenly a blurry shape burst past her, and she dodged away, turning in surprise. It looked like a rope, or a giant snake, thick and green. For a moment that’s what she thought it was, until she caught a glimpse of thorns. It was... a vine?
As though they had minds of their own, several other vines shot out of the darkness, like the tentacles of some giant sea creature. The largest group went for Burn, who had been struggling to draw his long sword. Everything began to speed up. Sora looked about wildly for Dorian but couldn’t find him anywhere, and there was no time to search. The vines turned their attention on her, and Sora drew her daggers, whirling the blades in her hands.
Bloodthirsty vines? Really? she thought as she tried to organize herself. It was her first real fight and she felt clumsy, inadequate. When next she concentrated on her surroundings, the air was thick with the monstrous weeds. Sora swallowed. Were they being attacked? By who? Had she been saved from the mud only to be killed by some greater evil? Her paralysis only lasted a moment more, then she was shaken into action by Burn’s shouting. Abruptly she gripped her daggers and slashed, cutting through several vines before another one tied itself around her ankle. She stabbed at it and a stinging green acid spurted out, burning her skin. She sliced again and cut it off.
There was another shout, and Sora looked over to see the dim shape of Burn on the ground, an exceptionally thick vine wrapped around his body, like a giant snake. The Wolfy had gotten his hands on a dirk and was cutting at the plant. Sadly, the blade hadn't been sharpened in a while. Sora tried to run toward him but another vine smacked her in the chest with such force that she was slammed back against a tree trunk. Her head spun from the blow.