Ferran's Map (25 page)

“How do we rescue Burn?” she asked. “The
assassins are your kind. Don’t you have any idea where they might
be hiding?”

Crash frowned. “If I did, I’d already be
there.”

“What if we can’t reach him in time—”

“He’s a warrior, Sora,” he said firmly. “We
have to trust him to survive, just as he trusts us to find
him.”

His words struck her, and she felt
momentarily guilty for doubting Crash. He wouldn’t abandon Burn
now, no more than he had back in Fennbog swamp or the Lost Isles.
She sat back, wishing she could shake off her horrible sense of
foreboding. She hoped so much that Burn could defend himself. But
he might already be dead. What if they arrived too late?

Silence filled the carriage as it rolled
down the cobbled streets.

CHAPTER 13

Sora stood awkwardly in the bowels of the
ship where she had once meditated with Ferran. It was one of the
few isolated places where they could lock up their new captive.
Still, as her eyes searched the underbelly of the
Dawn
Seeker
, she wondered if it would be secure enough. Large wooden
crates and barrels of supplies occupied the hold. Dense shadows
obscured half the room, beyond the light of Caprion’s wings. Above
her head, she could hear footsteps treading back and forth as
various Dracians strode to and from their cabins to the mess hall.
If the assassin got loose, there were no bars to hold her, no locks
and no doors.

Caprion deposited the woman’s body on the
wooden floor planks, then stepped back. Sora noticed the way his
eyes lingered on their prisoner. She wondered what he was
thinking.

After a moment of silence, she asked, “Now
what?”

Crash shifted at her side. “Now we get
answers.” His words sounded brutal.

She hesitated. They hadn’t broached the
subject of the woman’s interrogation during the coach ride. “You
don’t intend to torture her?” she asked.

“What else would you suggest?” Crash said
coldly.

Thoughts of Burn filled Sora’s mind, causing
her cheeks to flush with anger. She wanted to know if he was still
alive, and where the Shade had taken him. She didn’t know if this
assassin could tell them, but so far she was their only source of
information.

Still, Sora didn’t know if she could stand
to watch the prisoner being tortured.

“Look here,” Caprion said suddenly, drawing
their attention. As he knelt over the woman, his hand hovered over
the sunstone. “Do you see the way the light fades? She doesn’t have
a demon. So we don’t need the stone.”

“How is that possible?” Sora asked,
surprised.

“She must have run into Harpies before,”
Caprion mused. His eyes passed over the assassin again curiously.
“Given enough time, a sunstone can remove a demon from an
assassin’s body. It works similarly to a Cat’s Eye in that sense.
The demon will become trapped within the rock.”

Sora frowned. In the Crystal Caves, she had
learned that Cat’s-Eye stones were formed from sunstones. Over
countless centuries of resisting the magical friction of the ocean,
shards of sunstone formed into Cat’s Eye, absorbing the ocean’s
powerful energy so it wouldn’t split apart the earth.

“It’s not a pleasant thing to witness,”
Caprion added. “Ensnaring a demon, I mean.”

“The sunstone keeps her immobile,” Crash
pointed out.

Caprion raised an eyebrow. “Yes, but so
would a firm rope, and the rope would be less painful.”

“Do you really have no pity for her?” Sora
asked, turning to Crash in alarm. “A month ago, you were imprisoned
with such a stone at your throat. Your voice still hasn’t healed.
Don’t you care if she’s in pain?”

“I don’t,” he said flatly. “They have Burn,
Sora.”

She opened her mouth to say something, then
shut it quickly. He did have a point. The Shade was the enemy.
Still, she hated the sight of the woman’s blistered flesh. “How can
you be so indifferent toward your own people?” she asked
softly.

“The Shade is not my people,” Crash replied,
his eyes falling scornfully to the woman. “For all the pain she’s
inflicted on others, I’m sure she can stomach this.”

Sora shifted her weight uncomfortably.

“I’m going to remove the stone,” Caprion
interrupted. Not waiting for Crash’s objection, he reached down and
gripped the stone firmly with his fingers. With a ripping sound, he
pried the stone from the woman’s flesh. The woman groaned—perhaps
it was meant as a scream, but her throat was too raw.

“Tie her hands,” Caprion said.

Crash took a length of rope from one of the
barrels and quickly bound the woman’s hands behind her back. Sora
watched. The woman didn’t look capable of fighting back, but
perhaps it was an act. With the Sixth Race, it was hard to
tell.

Once he secured their prisoner, Crash
returned to Sora’s side. They watched Caprion pull the woman up
into a sitting position. He gripped her firmly by the shoulders and
shook her slightly. Her head lolled, but Sora saw her eyelids
flicker. She was conscious.

Light shimmered around Caprion’s body. Sora
saw the ghosts of wings protruding from his back. His magic
vibrated through the room, causing her skin to prickle. She noticed
Crash draw in a slow breath as his hands tightened into fists. She
knew this couldn’t be comfortable for him.

When Caprion spoke, his voice reverberated
with power. “Your name,” he prompted the woman.

Sora felt her own throat tighten in reply.
She touched her necklace. With a slight jingle of bells, she felt
the Cat’s Eye respond. Green light encased her skin, shielding her
from the Harpy’s magic.

Caprion shook the woman again. “Tell me your
name,” he commanded.

The woman stiffened in his arms. When she
opened her eyes, Sora saw primal terror on her face, more fear than
she could fully comprehend. “I have no name,” the woman
whispered.

Crash folded his arms.

“What do they call you?” Caprion rephrased
the question.

“Krait,” she whispered hoarsely.

“Are you a member of the Shade?” Caprion
asked.

“Yes,” Krait replied flatly.

“Who is your master? Who is the leader of
the Shade?”

The woman’s jaw clamped shut in resistance.
Caprion moved his right hand to gently clasp her throat. Sora
cringed. Considering the woman’s burn marks, his grip must be
painful.

“Tell me,” Caprion repeated, his voice calm
and assertive.

“My master—my Grandmaster,” the woman
choked. A trickle of blood fell from her lips. “He saved me.”

Sora felt mildly impressed. The assassin’s
loyalty was so strong, she would not give up the name of their
leader, even under Caprion’s thrall. She glanced at Crash, but his
face was cold and withdrawn. He stared at the woman without
pity.

“Does your master have
The Book of the
Named
?” Caprion asked.

Krait shuddered. “Yes.”

“Why is he in The City of Crowns? Why does
he want the sacred weapons?”

Krait didn’t respond. Caprion’s grip
tightened slightly.

“I don’t know,” she murmured.

“Tell me,” Caprion intoned.

“I don’t know!” Suddenly the assassin's
composure broke and a hoarse sob issued from her throat. Her
expression changed. Sora saw vicious hatred twist her features.
“I’ll kill you!” The woman shouted, writhing violently, trying to
slip free of her bonds. “I’ll cut off your wings, you bastard
Harpy! I’ll gouge out your eyes! I’ll rip out your throat—agh!”

Caprion pushed her back to the ground and
stood over her. His wings brightened until Sora was forced to look
away.

“Stop,” Crash said softly.

Caprion’s light dimmed marginally.

“I want to know—is she of the Hive?”

Caprion repeated the question. The woman
growled, biting back her words. “Harpies took me from the Hive,”
she choked.

Crash’s expression turned thoughtful. “After
you won your Name?”

Krait’s head whipped back and forth. “My
master gave me my Name.”

Crash raised an eyebrow and took a step
closer to the woman, staring down at her. “You’re an impostor,” he
said quietly. “You never earned your Name.”

“No!” she moaned. “No, you lie!”

Crash smirked. Sora didn’t expect such an
expression from him. “Pathetic,” he murmured.

Sora grew cold watching him. This was not
Crash; this was Viper. She could see it in his eyes.

“Why does your master want Sora?” Crash
asked.

Caprion repeated the question. Krait
shuddered and convulsed, then spat, “I don’t know. Agh!” Her body
stiffened, her face contorting with pain. Blood flecked her
lips.

“The more you resist, the more you will hurt
yourself,” Caprion said softly.

“I don’t care! I’ll die before telling
you—agh!” The woman convulsed again. Then she spat out, “He has the
third wraith. He wants to claim the last sacred weapon.”

Tension ran throughout the room. Crash and
Sora shared an alarmed look. Caprion appeared puzzled. “What’s a
wraith?” he asked, glancing at Crash.

“We’ll explain later,” he said. “Ask her
where her master hides.”

Caprion did so. Krait twisted on the ground,
but the Harpy’s compulsion was too strong. “In the city. I don’t
know where—agh!” she gasped.

“Answer me,” Caprion asserted.

The growl that came from her throat
contained two words: “The Regency!”

Sora’s eyes widened.

“What?” Caprion asked. “What did you
say?”

“The Regency,” Sora replied. All noble-born
people knew of this private district in the City of Crowns where
the upper tiers lived. Many country nobles kept townhouses there.
Sora's father had stayed with friends in The Regency before his
death. But why would the leader of the Shade live there among the
highest tiers? Was Burn there now?

“Ask her about Burn!” Sora called. “He went
through a shadow portal after Cobra. Where did he go?”

Caprion began to ask, but the woman cut him
off. A grotesque, choking laugh issued from her throat. “I don’t
know. Anywhere. He’s probably dead.”

“No!” Sora burst out. She rushed forward,
but Crash caught her arm and held her back. “No! Where is he, you
liar!”

The woman laughed again. “Cobra killed him,”
she leered. “Your friend is dead. His neck was slit, his eyes
plucked out, his teeth pulled from his head—”

“Don’t listen,” Crash said, and dragged Sora
back against him. He wrapped her in a tight embrace, holding her
steady. “She’s lying. She can’t know that. She’s trying to provoke
you.”

Krait turned back to Caprion. “Kill me now,
Harpy. Finish it. I’ll happily die in service to my master.”

Caprion stared at the woman with a look of
repulsion. “What’s become of you?” he asked softly.

Bound by the Harpy’s voice, the woman
answered readily, “I was reborn! By my master’s will, my eyes were
returned to me. I am a hand of the Dark God and will serve my
master without fail!”

Caprion released the woman and turned to
them suddenly. “Both of you should leave now,” he said.

Sora asked. “Why? What do you intend to do
to her?”

“Nothing dire, I assure you.” He gave Crash
a solemn stare. “Leave. We will discuss everything tonight with
Silas and his crew.”

Crash nodded. He took Sora firmly by her
good arm and dragged her up the narrow stairs to the deck. Sora
tried to pull away, glaring over her shoulder with hatred in her
eyes. “If she wants to die so badly, you should let her!” she
snarled. The thought of Burn’s likely death filled her with
helpless fury. “She deserves it!”

“Where’s your moral high ground, Sora?”
Crash asked in dark amusement. “Perhaps you should recover it.”

“Those bastards killed Burn! How can you be
so calm?”

Crash opened the latch to the upper deck and
lifted her through it. “I’m not calm,” he said.

“Yes, you are!” she fumed. She winced as he
accidentally jarred her injured shoulder. He released her and they
faced each other in the galley. Afternoon light filtered through a
small porthole window at her back. Rain spattered against the deck
above, thrumming hard and steady.

Sora planted her feet firmly on the galley
floor. “We need to go back and question that woman until her throat
is too bloody to speak!”

“Punishing her won’t save Burn,” Crash
snapped. “Listen to reason. She wants us to kill her. Then she
won’t be forced to betray the Shade. Don’t you see? It’s a
trick.”

Sora glared at him. She felt trapped and
helpless. They needed to save Burn, but she had no idea where to
start.

She spun angrily on her heel and headed out
the galley, through the mess hall and onto the outer deck. Rain
fell hard against the wooden planks. A scant handful of sailors
loafed about on the rigging, cloaked and hooded against the
storm.

Sora dashed through the rain back to her
cabin. Shadows engulfed her as she went below deck. Thoughts of
Burn’s tortured body kept rising in her mind. She had seen so much
violence since leaving her manor, she could easily imagine what the
Shade might do to him. And the best she and Crash could do was sit
around and ask questions? She wanted to strangle someone.

* * *

Caprion knelt above the female assassin. She
glared up at him viciously, blood leaking from the corners of her
mouth. He knew that mouth, just as he knew her jawline, nose and
ears. But her eyes were different, filled with malice, not as he
remembered.

“You know me,” he said softly.

She spat at him. “I know you’re a sick
winged bastard!” she growled.

“Do you remember the city of Asterion?” he
murmured. “The Lost Isles?”

She writhed against her bonds. “Cut me loose
and I’ll show you what I remember!”

Caprion gazed at her impassively. She was
helpless in this state, knew it and obviously hated it.