Ferran's Map (29 page)

“We had an incident at the seminary,” Ferran
said. “She’ll need a few days to recover.”

“A few days?” Sora demanded. “What
happened?”

“She was stabbed,” Ferran said bluntly. “We
had a misunderstanding with some thugs on the docks.”

“Lots of thugs around the seminary these
days,” Silas muttered, and Ferran shot him an irritated look.

Sora searched the treasure hunter’s face.
She couldn’t tell if he was hiding something or just drunk. “A stab
wound?” she echoed, shocked.

“Nonfatal,” Ferran assured her.

Still, the news was more than worrisome.
Sora felt an immediate need to go to her mother's side. “If a stab
wound isn’t cleaned properly, it can lead to a dire infection….”
she started.

“I’ve tended her, and she will recover
soon,” Ferran repeated, giving Silas another pointed look. “I
expect the crew to look over her in my absence. She’ll be up and
about in a few days, I expect. Then she can join us at the Ebonaire
estate, should we decide to follow through with this plan.”

So Lori wouldn’t be accompanying them. Sora
felt a bit bolder knowing that. For whatever reason, she didn’t
want her mother watching her act the part of a noble. She imagined
it would make them both uncomfortable and preferred to keep those
two worlds separate.

“Must we really enter The Regency? Isn’t
there some other way to track down the Shade?” she asked, glancing
around their circle. Caprion looked determined, though Sora doubted
he knew what they were in for. Ferran seemed solemn, if resolved.
Silas’ eyes were gleaming, envisioning gold coins. And Crash….

“If the Shade’s hideout is in The Regency,
it’s our only option,” he said. “And remember, we don't need to
stay together the entire time. We'll have more opportunity to track
down Burn separately.”

“We’ll begin the search immediately,”
Caprion added.

“You’re staying behind,” the assassin
replied.

“What do you mean?”

“We have a captive on board, or have you
forgotten?” Crash sneered. Then he added, “Sora and Ferran have
noble upbringings. They can play the part well.”

“And you?” Silas asked dryly.

“A wealthy family will have a servant.” He
met Sora’s eyes. “I can fill that role. We can’t afford any
mistakes. The First Tier have very specific standards.” The
assassin looked sideways at Silas. “Different from pirate
standards.”

Silas flushed angrily. “I could walk into
The Regency dressed in these nightclothes alone! No one would ask
questions,” he sniffed. “None of you have a lick of fashion
sense.”

“Still,” Ferran said evenly, “the assassin
has a point. Nobility follow strict etiquette: proper greetings and
titles, morning routines, late breakfasts and afternoon tea….” He
nodded to Caprion and Silas. “We’ll meet with my family and send
for the rest of you if we are able to stay.”

Silas frowned, though he finally sat back on
the bed.

“Then perhaps it’s best if I stay on the
ship,” Caprion agreed. “I will watch over our new prisoner. See if
I can’t find out anything more. And I should be able to search the
city at night for anything suspicious.”

“Bring us word immediately if you find
anything,” Crash said dryly. The two glared at each other.

“Then it’s settled,” Ferran finished.

Yes,
Sora thought,
it’s
settled,
though she wasn’t excited at the prospect. With the
right clothes, they might make it into The Regency. Perhaps the
Ebonaires would even meet with them for a few minutes. But she
couldn’t imagine staying with such a family while under disguise.
Her group would stand out like sore thumbs. Clothes couldn’t hide
sunburned skin, facial scars or unkempt hair.

And even if this all somehow worked, how
would they find Burn? By somehow uncovering the Shade’s trail?

What other choice do we have?
her
inner voice murmured. Weighing her options, she couldn’t think of
anything else.

Silas began to ask questions about wardrobe
measurements and carriage costs. He went to his desk as Ferran
outlined the gritty details of their plan.

Sora clenched her fist, trying to ignore her
doubt. With every passing minute, Burn’s survival seemed less and
less likely. Infiltrating The Regency seemed like a huge
distraction. They should be scouring the city right now, searching
every street corner and dark alley for sign of the Shade.

But if the Shade were in The Regency, they
wouldn’t be in the city proper.

She cast a final look at Crash, turned and
left the room.

* * *

Crash followed Sora out of Silas’ cabin into
the wet night. That final glance concerned him. It contained a
wildness, a desperation, that he recognized. He didn’t know if she
would confront their captive again, or leave the ship outright, but
he had to make sure she stayed close. The Shade didn’t want Burn,
after all. They wanted Sora.

A distracting glimmer over his shoulder
halted his steps.

“I have words for you,” Caprion said as he
exited the cabin.

Crash hesitated, watching Sora in a moment
of indecision. She headed for her cabin, away from the galley and
the cargo hold. At least she wasn’t being rash. Resigned, he turned
to face the Harpy.

“Let’s hear it,” Crash said. The soft
percussion of rain struck the deck. Behind them, the wide expanse
of The Bath stretched off into a windy, throbbing darkness.

Caprion spoke directly. “It’s time we put
our differences aside, Viper. The Shade is after Sora, and they
took Burn. We can no longer waste time fighting each other.” He
gave Crash a searching look. “If you know anything about the Shade,
you should tell me now.”

Crash raised an eyebrow. “Tell me first why
the Matriarch sent you,” he said.

Caprion paused for too long. Crash expected
as much; they both had their secrets.

“I was sent to watch you,” Caprion finally
admitted. “And to kill you, should you side with the Dark God.”

“Or just kill me,” Crash amended.

Caprion nodded wordlessly.

Crash bowed his head to the rain. Then an
ironic laugh broke from his throat. He shot the Harpy an empty
grin. “And now I should trust you? Knowing you were sent to kill
me, and doubtless many more of my kind?” He took a slow step
forward. “That’s your mistake, you know—confiding in me. Assuming I
care. We’re not brothers in some fellowship.”

Caprion’s face twisted in anger. Crash
watched the man’s patience slip, savoring the experience.

“They want Sora’s Cat’s Eye, and she needs
to be protected,” the Harpy ground out. “They took Burn. We need to
find
The Book of the Named
. I am trying to help you, but you
are withholding information. I saw you speak to that assassin in
the woods outside the village. I know they’ve contacted you.”

Crash became guarded. “What happened in the
woods was a pointless confrontation, no more than what you saw at
the windmills. We’ll find Burn, and
The Book of the Named
won’t be far behind. You don’t know us well, Harpy. We’ve been
fighting this battle for almost a year now. Sora doesn’t need your
protection.”

“She does,” the Harpy murmured, “from
you.”

Crash’s hand drifted close to his dagger. He
felt that inner darkness stir. This stranger knew nothing of what
Sora had been through—what she’d survived, and what they'd
shared.

“Your demon darkens your aura,” Caprion said
quietly. His eyes flickered around Crash’s form as though watching
flies dart through the air. “Your demon lives close to the surface
of your skin. You’re not as in control as you think, Viper. I don’t
know what kind of thrall you have over this girl, but let her
go.”

Crash hated the Harpy’s words—their truth
and their arrogance. “You underestimate her, and you underestimate
me. She chose me willingly to protect her. That’s why I joined her
side. But a man like you doesn’t understand loyalty.” He gave the
Harpy a direct look. “You lied to Sora, to me, to this crew, to the
Matriarch—why are you here, Harpy? Be honest with yourself.”

Caprion stared at him.

“Coward,” Crash spat. Then he turned and
walked away, back toward the row of cabins. He felt the Harpy’s
magic wash over him in a wave of frustration, but he ignored it.
Caprion was just like the rest of his kind. Righteous, to the
world—deceitful, to himself.

“If you won’t tell me the full truth about
the Shade, then at least tell Sora,” Caprion called after him
unexpectedly.

Crash looked back.

The Harpy’s silhouette glowed vaguely
through the rain. “Her life is at risk,” he said. “You owe
her.”

Crash considered those words. Then he
continued along the side of the ship toward the cabins. The
Dawn
Seeker
smelled of wet timber and rain. He glanced up at the
heavy mass of clouds overhead. No stars. No moon. Pure
darkness.

He thought of Sora, and of that
name—
Cerastes.

Yes, she was owed an explanation. They both
were.

CHAPTER 16

Golden light filled Sora’s cabin. She sat on
her small cot, her head in her hands. She couldn’t stop thinking of
Burn. She felt like they were already too late to save his
life.

Finally she reached under her cot and pulled
out a locked wooden box. Just touching the wood made her hands
cold, and she felt the Cat’s Eye stir at her neck uneasily. The box
contained the Dark God’s sacred weapons. They had already recovered
two of them from Volcrian’s wraiths: a sword hilt and a spearhead.
The Shade was searching for them. Even more disturbing, it seemed
that the third wraith had been captured. She wanted to question the
female assassin again. How could the Shade hold such a powerful
creature?

And what did the Shade plan to do with the
three sacred weapons? How would they be used to resurrect the Dark
God?

We need The Book of the Named,
she
thought. But which was more important? Finding the book, finding
the wraith, or finding Burn?
It should be obvious,
she
thought, but she had no answer.

Her skin prickled. The doorknob clicked.
Sora stood up from her cot as the cabin door swung open, revealing
the dark hallway beyond.

Crash stepped silently into the room.
Candlelight flickered over his tall form, outlining his broad
shoulders, powerful chest and narrow waist. Dark hair fell to his
sharp, cunning jaw. He looked brutal and wolfish.

Sora’s lips parted in surprise.

He shut the door quietly behind him. The
sound brought her back to herself. “You shouldn’t be here,” she
said automatically.
And why should it matter
? a small voice
asked. Again, no answer.

Crash stood facing her. His presence filled
the small room. His shadow shifted along the wall, moving away from
the light of the candle, seeming to have a mind of its own. The
sight unnerved her.

“Our conversation from before was
unfinished,” he murmured.

She blinked. “Really?”

He took the box from her hands and placed it
on the bed. “I told you I didn’t know the assassins who attacked
us.”

“Yes,” Sora said softly.

“But I didn’t tell you all.”

Her heart sank. Her instincts were right.
He lied again,
she thought.

In as few words as possible, Crash described
the man who was once his Grandmaster. She realized this was a rare
moment of truth for him. He spoke briefly of his life in the Hive
and his enigmatic teacher,
Cerastes.
She did her best to
understand, not knowing much about the ways of assassins.

“So this Grandmaster is in league with the
Shade?” she asked once he finished.

“He is their leader,” Crash admitted
softly.

Sora shuddered. The sense of his betrayal
closed her throat. She knew it was Crash's way to keep secrets, but
felt deceived that he would keep such a vital piece of information
from her—and from the rest of the crew. She thought of Caprion’s
suspicions, and the whispered rumors among the Dracians. Could she
ever trust the assassin fully?

“Do you know why they want the sacred
weapons?” she asked. “Do you know how they plan to raise the Dark
God?”

Crash shook his head, but now she wasn’t
sure if she believed him. “The Shade is a cult separate from the
Hive. What they believe…and the magic they practice…is not what our
kind sees as normal.” He paused. “But I think if Cerastes is in The
Regency, then he has made some very powerful friends. I’m not sure
why, but we will soon find out.”

Sora nodded in silent agreement. Cerastes.
In her thoughts, the name sounded like some insidious reptile.
Serraasteees.

“I’m worried about Burn,” she murmured.

“I’ll find him.”

“Alive or dead?” she asked bluntly. “This
trip to The Regency is a waste of time. We should be out looking
for him right now.”

Crash didn’t answer.

Frustrated, she gave him a piercing look.
“Are you going to meet with him?”

“Who?”

“Cerastes.”

He hesitated just long enough for her to
worry.

“No,” he said briefly. “If the Shade wants
you, I won’t let you out of my sight.”

“Honestly, my safety isn’t important right
now. If we must enter The Regency, then I’d rather you track down
Burn. At least one of us will be out searching for him.” She
sighed. “I don’t need your protection. I’m capable of handling
myself.”

Her words sounded much bolder than she
actually felt. Infiltrating the First Tier seemed far more daunting
than hunting down the Shade. And what if their little charade were
found out? If they connected her to Lord Fallcrest? Was there still
a warrant out for her arrest? Her father’s death was two years ago
and a hundred miles away, but she had been arrested before on
charges of murder, and didn’t wish to repeat the experience….