Ferran's Map (47 page)

He turned to the King’s barge. Fire had
consumed it almost completely. He could see the royal family
huddled against the flames, trapped by a large, decorative throne
chair and a collapsed miniature of the royal palace.

He used a few hand gestures to focus his
power. Then, with tense concentration, he surrounded the royal
family with white light. His head pounded and his wings flickered
as he lifted all four of them from the barge at once. His second
set of wings flashed into existence as he exerted his power. More
than once he felt his control begin to slip, but he was able to
transport them across the water to safety.

Once on the bank, a group of human soldiers
ran to the royal family and surrounded them. Caprion continued to
hover over the river, then let out a long, slow breath—at least
they were safe for now. He turned back to the ruined parade and
repeated the process. Several floats were burning, and he carried
as many passengers to shore as he could.

A few skiffs still floated upon the canal,
but the Dracians appeared to be handling the situation. Tristan and
Silas had gathered a group of the traitors further up the banks of
the canal, and several Dracians kept watch over them until the
King’s soldiers arrived.

Caprion wondered what Ferran would think of
the whole ordeal. That morning, the treasure hunter seemed
convinced of the Shade’s attack on the royal parade. His hunch was
not far off, but it appeared a band of renegade humans had staged
the attack instead. Truly, Caprion didn’t understand it. He saw no
sign of the cult, despite the dark taint he felt over the city, but
he had sensed the same taint even on the Little Rain river. The
attack on the royal parade seemed to come from a completely
different enemy.

If the Shade are not here, then where are
they?
he thought, with a strong desire to return to the
Dawn
Seeker
. He didn’t know what the Shade planned, but Silas’ ship
might be in danger, and if the assassins tried to rescue
Krait….

Caprion bolted down the water canal, toward
the Crown’s Rush and the southern docks.

CHAPTER 27

Sora tried to resist the cruel hands behind
her. By his touch, she knew who held her: Cobra. He pulled her arms
behind her back in a grip hard enough to break her bones, and she
succumbed to his strength with little choice. All the while, she
longed for her staff, which was in the carriage, and regretted
hiding her dagger in her boot. There was no convenient way to draw
it out and defend herself. She shouldn’t have come to the parade;
it was a foolhardy venture. She should have asked Caprion to join
her that morning instead of letting him take his leave back to the
ship.

Cobra maneuvered Sora ahead of him. She
stumbled over her long skirts. Her soft leather boots offered no
grip on the ice. The crowds were so panicked, no one seemed to
notice the lone noblewoman being forced up the street. All the
peasants remained focused on the water canal.

“Seems you know better than to struggle,”
Cobra hissed to her. “A wise choice.” They entered a network of
alleys between a cluster of tall brick buildings.

Sora wondered where he was taking her. Her
Cat’s Eye stopped him from opening a shadow portal, so that bought
her some time. She knew she had to escape, but couldn’t see an easy
solution. If she put any sort of pressure on her arm, it would
snap.

“I will never help you or Cerastes,” she
snarled. “You might as well kill me now.”

“Kill you? But how would Viper ever forgive
me?” he sneered.

His words left her chilled.

“It must be difficult to know your lover has
abandoned you,” Cobra continued. “Don’t be surprised. We of the
Sixth Race are not meant to live among humans. He is better off
this way.” She could sense his leering grin beneath his cowl. “You
might even thank me some day.”

“Liar,” she spat. “Crash would never join
the Shade. He hates everything you stand for. He is nothing like
you!” Her conviction sounded weak, even to her own ears. Doubt
filled her thoughts. She was agonized by Crash's possible betrayal.
He’s wrong. He’s trying to trick me,
she thought
desperately.
It can’t be true.

“A liar, am I?” Cobra mocked as he dragged
her around a corner and down another narrow alley. “Why not ask him
yourself?”

She tried to pull her arm away, but his
painful grip tightened. He easily controlled her by the wrist.

They entered a small courtyard where three
alleys converged. A large iron grate marked an entrance to the
sewers. Cobra dragged her toward it while Sora stared at the metal
hatch in horror. Once she entered the underground tunnels, she knew
that no one would find her.

Then someone dropped down from the roof.

Sora heard Cobra curse behind her. She
gasped, unable to believe her eyes. Crash stood before them. He
looked…hardened, his expression sharp as a dagger. Her Cat’s Eye
murmured distantly, and she sensed a low, simmering energy about
him. His demon’s aura seemed stronger than before. She couldn’t
quite place what had changed, but he looked different, his cheeks
gaunt, his lips tight.

“Cobra,” he said curtly. “This is my task.
Give her to me.” He drew his knife.

“You failed at your job,” Cobra sneered.
“Our Master is already displeased. Why do you think he sent me? To
ensure that you don’t fail.”

“No,” Sora uttered. “No, it can’t be
true….”

“Give her to me,” Crash repeated.

“You took too long,” Cobra hissed. As he
twisted Sora’s elbow, her entire body turned. If she resisted, he
would break her arm. “You’re not worthy of our Master’s favor.”

“Favor?” Sora asked. She searched Crash’s
chilly gaze and demanded, “You were going to take me to
Cerastes?”

He looked straight through her to Cerastes.
“Let her go,” Crash asserted, “or I will tear off your arms.”

* * *

Crash saw doubt and betrayal in Sora’s eyes.
She stared at him as though he were a stranger. He wanted to look
away, but instead, focused on the enemy. “Well?” he prompted Cobra
softly.

“Too late, Viper,” his enemy replied. “Now
she’s my prize.”

“Release her or I’ll make you,” he
repeated.

Cobra’s eyes crinkled. “You can try.”

Crash felt a horrible pressure building
inside his body. His temples throbbed—his patience vanished.
Lunging without warning, he slid on the ice, to his advantage, and
tackled his enemy, breaking Cobra’s grip on Sora’s arm and hurling
him into a wall.

Sora stumbled away, and Crash let her go—at
least she would avoid being involved in the fight. He turned fully
on Cobra and kicked the enemy assassin to the ground, then threw
himself on Cobra’s body, ready to slit his throat.

His opponent vanished in a billow of black
smoke as Crash’s blade struck the cold cobblestone.

Cobra materialized a few feet away, and the
two assassins faced off. Crash studied his opponent through white,
vaporous clouds of breath. When he lunged forward, Cobra didn’t try
to evade him. Crash grabbed him by the throat through the folds of
his cowl. His neck was not straight and strong, but mangled, like
rotted wood.

Crash dragged the assassin sideways by his
crooked neck and slammed him into the side of a building. Too easy.
Why didn’t he fight back?

“So angry, Viper,” he hissed with a wheezing
laugh. “Where is your control?”

Crash’s demon awakened, as though summoned
by Cobra’s words. Anger couldn’t describe the darkness that stirred
beneath his skin. That maddening sense of pressure continued to
build beneath his skin, causing his flesh to tingle and burn.
I’ll show you control
, the beast grinned.
Take his
head!

“Run back to your master, little worm,”
Crash said, in a low and lethal voice.

“And miss this—your complete undoing?” Cobra
breathed. “Our Master’s precious Viper, protégé of the Hive, now
loyal to a human?” A hoarse laugh escaped Cobra’s throat. “Dare I
say, bound by love? Humans are far too frail for the likes of us.
Just look at your lover now, demon—I believe she’s fallen ill.”

Crash glanced over his shoulder, and his
stomach tightened. Sora was leaning heavily against the wall in the
alley, with one hand pressed to her chest as though unable to draw
air. She hadn’t run, as he had expected. Blood ran down the side of
her neck.

Cobra’s grin widened. “A small cut just
behind the ear. She hardly flinched. The poison works slowly—slow
enough for my purpose. I want her to see the monster you are.” He
pulled out a knife from his sleeve and plunged it into Crash’s
torso.

All the air left him. With a guttural gasp,
Crash sank to his knees, his blood staining the snow.

“And now, we wait,” Cobra taunted. “
Fight
me,
Viper. Fight me as you truly are.”

A gust of wind blew past them, moaning down
one alleyway into the next. Crash focused on breathing as searing
pain twisted through his torso. He wondered if the blade was
poisoned.

“Why?” Viper asked, holding the knife hilt.
“Why are you doing this?” He knew it couldn't be Cerastes'
orders.

Cobra’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t remember
the Mistmire Hive?” he murmured. “You don’t remember what you
did?”

The name momentarily jarred him. Crash
stared at Cobra for a long, hard moment. Yes, the Mistmire Hive… a
night long ago, and a fire, and too many deaths….

“Impossible,” he said through clenched
teeth.

“Unlikely, perhaps,” Cobra acknowledged,
“but once I heard your Name, I knew I couldn’t let this opportunity
pass. You might not remember me, but my memories of you have stayed
with me over the years. How could they not, when you left me so
beautifully disfigured?” His voice grew sharp. “First I will kill
you, and then I will kill the girl, and then I will burn you both
in the vengeful fire of our God—as I was burned.”

Crash shuddered. His actions at the Mistmire
Hive were what caused his exile. Images of that night leapt briefly
before his eyes, but he couldn’t lose himself to memory now. He
summoned his strength:
Sora.
This time, Cobra would take
her. He would open the hatch to the sewers and carry her away, to
be used for Cerastes’ dark purposes, and then dumped into The Bath
like the rest of the city’s refuse. He gripped the handle of the
blade lodged in his torso—how could he fight with a dagger stuck
four inches in his gut? He hesitated, on the verge of wrenching it
free. So what if he bled out all over the street? He had to kill
Cobra. He had to fight….

Then, in the dark recesses of his mind:
You need me.

No,
Crash thought forcefully. He
struggled against the beast’s strength. The demon could feel his
desperation. Its presence remained firm.

His heart began to pound.

You can’t do this alone,
the demon
murmured.

You’ll destroy her, and anything else you
touch,
Crash returned.

The demon grinned.
I’ll destroy the one
who touches her,
it snarled.

Crash didn’t trust that voice. Was the demon
not loyal to Cerastes? Did it not crave the power of the Dark
God?

And yet, in that moment, he could feel the
beast’s strength pulsing through his arms, his legs, his throat.
His demon was a simple creature ruled by baser needs. It desired
whatever lay immediately before it—something to fight for,
something to protect, something
to own.

His hand hesitated on the knife hilt. He
didn’t have a choice. The blade was in too deep. He couldn’t fight
Cobra while he was weakened by blood loss. Sora was debilitated by
poison and couldn't escape. Even now, he could see her strength
wane as she slid further down the wall. If Cobra took her, he
couldn’t imagine what the Shade might do to her….

He couldn’t waste any more time; he had to
make a decision.

The demon made the choice for him. The
pressure in his body reached an unbearable pitch. He felt like a
string about to snap. Then the beast overcame his mind in a
rush—Crash felt his bones crunch and his sinews tear as his body
changed. His limbs elongated as his skin blackened and hardened.
Long spikes jutted out from his shoulders and arms. Wings twisted
up from his spine, bursting through his skin like spears. Where his
hairline would be, a myriad of short black spikes covered his
skull. A thick cloud of mist trailed around his body,
half-obscuring his seven-foot frame. The heat of his power melted
the snow on the ground.

Cobra’s gaze seemed filled with rapture, his
eyes wide and staring, as though witnessing a rare and glorious
event. Then his expression changed to disappointment. “You
transformed so quickly! I was hoping you’d show more
restraint.”

“Let’s not drag this out any longer,” Viper
replied in a low and guttural voice, his words distorted by his
long teeth. Through his demon’s eyes, he could see a black, toxic
cloud wavering around Cobra’s body, with edges and colors shown in
fine detail: miniscule variations of gray in the cobblestone, or
fragile formations of ice along the roof’s gutter. He could hear
the labored rush of Sora’s breath across the alley, and could smell
the poison slowly infiltrating her blood. The frosty winter air cut
through his nose like glass.

He met Cobra’s eyes with a deadened
stare.

Cobra didn’t seem put off, but crossed his
arms mockingly. “Aren’t you worried?” he asked the man inside the
beast. He pointed to Sora’s prone body on the ground, then tapped
his own head emphatically. “Are you even in there, Viper? Will you
let the beast kill her as well? One more life for your demon’s
altar?”

Viper growled low in his throat, a noise
similar to a roaring flame.
Rip out his teeth,
the demon
thought.
Strip his spine.