Viper's Creed (The Cat's Eye Chronicles) (26 page)

"I don't know about all of you, but I'm starving," she changed the subject. She waved a waitress over and asked, "What's on the menu?"

The woman bowed slightly before answering. "Black pepper tuna steak, slightly charred, over a plate of fresh greens and long-stemmed wild rice. We recommend a bottle of our sparkling white wine, made locally. It is very light on the tongue."

"I'll have that," she said easily.

"Do you have a room number, miss?"

"Yes, fourteen,” Sora answered.

"All right, just let me check here..." the woman flipped through a small book she pulled from her pocket, then nodded. "Ah, the King's messenger, busy job you've got. Yes, your room covers meals. I'll be right back with your food."

"Wait, I'll have some too," Laina cut in loudly, "but make it shrimp."

The woman nodded. "Very well, but a special order will take longer."

"I'll have tuna also," Burn interjected.

The woman ran a hand through her neat hair. Then she nodded respectfully, as she was paid to do, and turned to Crash with an expectant smile.

The assassin sighed. "Do you serve anything other than fish?"

"We have venison, sir."

"Good, I'll have that then, and a brown ale,” he added.

"Yes, sir, very good," the woman nodded again, then glanced around the table. "Is that all?"

"Yes, I believe so," Sora returned the smile. The waitress bowed one more time before walking back to the kitchen.

Sora looked at Crash curiously after the waitress was out of sight. They were sitting next to each other, so she leaned in close to speak. "I take it you don't like seafood?" she asked quietly.

"What?"

She leaned a little more toward him. "I said, so you don't like fish?"

"Not especially," he replied in an equally soft voice. Then a wicked glint lit his eyes. “Unless it has long, slimy tentacles and suckers, with tiny black eyes that have been boiled in soup...."

"Oh, hush!" Sora laughed. "Are you describing yourself? I think I've seen a few tentacles under that cloak...."

The assassin grimaced. “You're very clever.”

“I learned it from you,” she grinned.

“We'll have to put a stop to that.”

Sora's grin widened. “You could always throw me to the sea.”

Crash laughed. "That wouldn't work. As I recall, you're a very good swimmer." The compliment was unexpected. He had adopted a deep tone that Sora had never heard before. It sent shivers across her skin and she shifted in her seat, strangely excited.

“I could teach you," she said.

“Why don't we have our first lesson in the bath?”

Suddenly Burn cleared his throat from across the table. Crash quickly backed away from her, saying shortly, “Another time, then.”

Sora nodded and sat back in her chair, looking around the room, avoiding her companions' eyes. What had just come over her? Teasing the assassin...!

Their order was brought soon after this exchange. The four ate in silence, too busy scarfing down the delicious meal to say anything. Sora felt that she could have eaten two plates of food, or perhaps three. She even drank her glass of wine, which left her warm and slightly light-headed.

Once she was through, she sat back with a sigh. Her friends were already finished and wiping their mouths with their napkins. Briefly, her eyes glanced over the populace of the hotel; all were high-class and richly dressed. Sora couldn't help but feel slightly out of place in her worn garments, but so far, no one had cast them a negative glance. That was the reality of being a peasant, she reminded herself. She was also invisible.

"So what do we do now?" Laina asked.

"Find a ship, of course," Burn answered. "What else? We'll just have to look around until we find one that's going to the Isles. If we can't do that, we'll see if we can buy one."

"Oh, that should be easy!” Laina agreed. She looked around at them expectantly.

“Not so easy. We need to make more money somehow,” Crash said. "We'll start tomorrow, sell the rest of our equipment and see if we can find any work for hire."

Sora sighed, wishing things could be easier. She'd never had a real job before. She tried to think of what she was skilled at, besides riding horses and fighting. Not much. Perhaps she could find a few sick people to treat... but she wasn't half as skilled as a true Healer, and she didn't have the supplies that her mother always used. Her Cat's Eye didn't naturally cure the sick; it only worked on the plague, and so far, that didn't appear to have spread to the coast.

"How are we supposed to make that much money in just a few days?" Sora asked.

"I grew up by the sea,” Crash commented. “There is plenty of coin in this city, if one knows where to look. Better to work honestly than to attract the attention of the guards. The King's army patrols these docks, and they are not fools." The assassin gave her a meaningful look.

She nodded, but her thoughts were of Volcrian. He was following them; she could feel it in her bones, like an oncoming storm. Her nightmares had been getting worse. She couldn't tell if they were connected to the Cat's Eye or not, but she could see his face in her dreams, as clear as a painting, even though she had never met the man in real life.

And she could also feel a boiling hatred grow within her every time she was reminded of him, the mage who had murdered Dorian. She had never hated anyone before; it was surprising that she could have so vicious an emotion toward a stranger.

Something caught her attention and Sora looked at the door. A red-haired man and woman had entered the room; they looked almost identical. She frowned.

"Why are there so many people with red hair?” she asked, wondering if her other companions had noticed.

Burn nodded thoughtfully. "Where have I seen red hair before?"

"I know where I've seen it," Crash replied. "Sora was flirting with a young, red-haired street entertainer in Mayville."

Sora looked at Crash in confusion as she searched for the memory, and then the vision of aqua-colored eyes came to her mind.
"A pretty flower for a pretty lady."

"That... that was more than a year ago, Crash!” she said, surprised. “And that's not fair. I wasn't flirting with him. He just gave me a flower."

"
He
was flirting with you, then. Not a big difference," the assassin said flatly. "What matters is that he looked incredibly similar to that man who was talking to you yesterday by the docks."

Sora immediately remembered the large crow. Her eyes widened. "Could it be the same man?" she asked. It seemed impossible, and yet....

"Most likely,” Crash replied, raising his drink to his lips.

“But that doesn't explain all of the other people with red hair,” Laina said.

Now Sora was confused again. What were her friends getting at? She looked dumbfounded until Burn chuckled.

"All the different races have similar features, Sora," Burn said. "Harpies all have pale blond hair, and Wolfy mercenaries all have my same height and build...."

She looked at him. "So you're saying the redheads are one of the Races?" she asked. "But which one?"

"Dracians,” Crash nodded.

"Dracians?"

Burn leaned forward. "Yes, you can tell by the red hair and jewel-like eyes; also that awful sense of humor." The Wolfy grinned. "Of course, that's just their outside appearance. They can change on a whim if they want."

Sora was interested. "Really? How?"

"Well, they sprout giant dragon wings, and grow scales." Burn took a sip of his drink. "It's supposed to make their magic stronger. They have elemental magic, you know. Each Dracian specializes in a different element: Wind, Fire, Earth or Water. Wolfies are so much more efficient, in my opinion."

She sat forward, suddenly excited. "So these redheads are Dracians?" She would have never suspected! "What should we do about them?"

"Nothing at all," Crash answered.

"They'll just get us in even more trouble than we're already in," Burn agreed. Then he gave Laina a stern look. The girl was staring at the red-haired couple. “They're bad news for all of us. Dracians have a knack for causing trouble. They enjoy mischief," Burn continued.

Laina remained silent. But Sora didn't like the look on the girl's face.

“Well, everyone, I'm heading off to sleep,” Burn said abruptly, and gave a mighty yawn. “I'd suggest you all do the same if we want to be up bright and early tomorrow. Work doesn't wait around in a city like this.”

At the mention of sleep, Sora let out a giant yawn and stretched. He had a point. "I guess I'm tired too," she agreed, and the wine was making her more sleepy. She stood up and turned to Laina. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah, I think I will.” The thief followed, also standing up. "Tomorrow is going to be interesting."

I hope not.
Sora looked at Crash, wondering if he was going to join them, but he shook his head.
Ah, well, it's not like he sleeps much anyway,
she thought. With that, the three went upstairs.

* * *

Crash watched them go.

Volcrian was getting closer, the assassin could feel it, and their money crisis was only slowing the four travelers down. He shook his head. He had been running from the mage for so long. Always running. Crash couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been looking over his shoulder. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since he had killed Etienne, the mage's brother. Years, for sure. If he had only known... if someone could have warned him, before he had taken the coin....
But then somebody else would have done it, and who knows, perhaps there would still be a plague.

He took a sip from the strong ale in his mug; a dark, thick alcohol that tasted like it had been brewed in a tree trunk. It was good by other pub's standards, and complimented the steak. Too bad the meat's flavor had been overshadowed by the smell of fish from his companions' dinners. Crash had never liked seafood. He had eaten far too much of it as a child and outgrown the taste.

Slowly, his mind turned to the members of their party, and he grimaced as he remembered Laina's new clothes. The girl was nothing but trouble. She whined and complained, then sniveled at every harsh word. But he disliked her for other reasons—reasons that the girl herself probably didn't understand. Reasons he couldn't share with Sora without revealing too much of himself. The girl  certainly had Burn under her thrall, but Crash wasn't fooled.

And what of this journey?
he pondered, his thoughts turning to his moment in the courtyard with Sora, her admonition and their embrace. Silly of him, to have grown sentimental. It was not his usual state.

Why had he decided to help her? Was it truly to face his past—to stop running, after so many years? Was it really simply to protect her? Desire was a finicky thing, as was the heart, not something to risk one's life for; it could change on a whim. And why had she sought him out? Just for help? He wanted something more concrete, more stable... but he knew the world too well to expect that.

He had heard the legends of the Dark God, of the weapons, of the War. He knew a few things about the Cat's Eye too... but he did not how to survive a broken bond. Was Sora ready to die for this cause? No, of course not, he could already see that. Sora had no idea why she was here, why she had been called upon to stop the plague. She had chased after him on instinct, just as she had tried to run away from her manor. She didn't fully understand her own reasons... but perhaps the Cat's Eye did. Perhaps, the necklace could read its bearer better than he could, straight through the fine mist of circumstance, know her heart as surely as a seer knew the stars. It was the Cat's Eye who had brought her here, after all. The Cat's Eye—and all of the souls inside it.

He sighed, then drowned out the ambient noise with his ale. Whatever Sora's intentions, he was thankful for her help. He had to admit that to himself. He had lied back at the weapons shop, in the heat of their argument. He
did
need her. He couldn't defeat Volcrian alone; neither of them could. The mage's wrath had grown into something far greater than himself that couldn't be killed with a sword.

These thoughts were making him sick, or perhaps it was the strong drink. Crash set down his mug and stood up. Although he seldom slept, he was weary of sitting in the main room. He had spent all evening on the lookout, his eyes combing every corner, but no one appeared to be following him. He still felt the terrible sense of being watched, though.

Maybe upstairs, alone, he'd find some peace of mind.

Chapter 13

Sora had her hair tied up at the back of her neck and a basket of laundry under one arm. It wasn't really a job, but the lady at the clothing shop had given her a few coins to run a basket of silk to the dyer. After a morning of going from stall to stall offering her services, it was the only paying task she had found.

She had awakened early to Crash and Burn conversing in the common room of their apartment. Burn had left shortly afterward to sell the horses. Sora had made sure that her mother's horse was not to be sold; instead, she told Burn to release the mare into the fields and let her find her way home. She was confident that the horse would return directly to her mother. She had even attached a lengthy note to the horse, describing their adventure so far, what the Priestess had told her and where they were heading. The men had given her strange looks, but no one protested. They understood that it was quite a special horse, and well-trained—by a Healer, at that.