Read Sora's Quest for Free Online Page A

along?"
    Crash was staring at her. His face was hard and cold behind the black veil. All she could see were those cool green eyes, like flecked algae, oddly unblinking.
    And yet there was a sudden, inexplicable connection, an almost-understanding. She was reminded of her words in the hallway, desperate, breathless. Take me with you.
    With an abrupt move, the dark man crossed the campsite and grabbed her satchel, easily yanking it from her grasp. Sora practically dropped the bag, she was so surprised. He ripped it open, spilling the contents to the ground, and she gasped, looking down in despair.
    A sudden flush of embarrassment crossed her cheeks—of all things! There lay her humble loaf of travel bread and a small lump of dried meat. Her shabby gray cloak, still fine next to her captor's grimy clothes. The coin purse and flute. She glanced up, quickly meeting Dorian's eyes, then looked away. A tension settled on the camp.
    Sora gazed at her belongings, trying to remember all she had packed. Her knife? Where had her knife gone? Her eyes darted around in the shadows and she finally saw the glint of a blade, half-obscured by a gnarled tree root. She looked away quickly, trying not to think about it, to alert her captors.
    But the two men were still staring at the spilled contents of the satchel.
    "Well," Dorian said after a moment. "It seems that we have a runaway."
    Sora's face paled, turning a stark white, humiliated to no end. Did he have to say it like that? Like she was a child sneaking off into the woods?
    Crash picked up the bag of coins and tossed it to Dorian. It made a heavy sound in his hand. Then the assassin wordlessly sifted through her belongings, tucking away what he could use—very little. When the satchel was passed back to her, all it contained were a change of clothes and her wooden flute.
    "Quaint," Dorian murmured, raising an eyebrow. "But quite a bit of coin. Seems unlikely that a servant would carry this much. I doubt you are a commoner, my dear. And you don't appear a thief. By the way, what is that all over your face?"
    It took Sora a moment to realize what he was talking about—and that he expected an answer. "M-My face?" she echoed. She raised a shaky hand to her cheek, then pulled it away, only to see smudges of red paint across her fingers. "Oh."
    "Yes. Oh." Dorian echoed.
    "It's...eh...well," Sora bit her lip. Should she tell them the truth? Who she really was? Or would that endanger her even further? She was nobility, after all, even if it was only Second Tier. She could be worth a hefty ransom....
    Her eyes slid to the man in black. He had been in the manor, had witnessed the Blooming, or had at least known of it. Her identity was no secret. They were playing a game.
    "Sora Fallcrest," she said, resisting the urge to raise her chin. It felt strange to say her name without the "Lady" attached, but she was leaving that life behind. For good.
    "Hmph. Fallcrest, eh?" Dorian raised an eyebrow and looked at Crash. "Our new pet has a pedigree?"
    The dark man didn't reply.
    Dorian continued, looking back to Sora. He spoke mockingly. "Well, then...it was your birthday, was it not? Happy birthday, my dear."
    Her eyes widened. In all of the panic, she had almost forgotten. "Oh. Yes."
    "Did you perform the Blooming?"
    Sora was surprised by his knowledge of her, and more than a little insulted by his tone. He spoke as though she were five years old. Her brow lowered. What else did they know about her? Had they watched her family for some time? She didn't know much about the ways of criminals. It was very unnerving.
    Her mouth was clamped shut. If they knew this much already, she wouldn't tell these bastards anything more. For all she knew, they had conspired to harm Lord Fallcrest, and she could well be next.
    Dorian grinned at her silence, a sly, terrible look. "Any chance of a rendition?" he asked wickedly. "I've never seen a Blooming, but I hear it is quite... provocative. About fertility, you