Chapter 55 A Race Against Time
A Race Against Time
Sorcha spent the next two days training relentlessly.
Each sunrise bled into sunset with barely a breath in between.
Every morning, she stepped onto the training grounds, and every night, she left more exhausted than the day before.
Rhosyn, Commander Nethran, and Cat pushed her harder, making sure she had full control over her abilities or at least enough to keep from burning the place down.
She had managed to conjure creatures from sun threads, summon small fireballs, and wield a whip of liquid light that incinerated anything it touched.
Kyron, Eirin, and Drystan had the unfortunate job of being moving targets. Clad in full armor, they held up wooden planks, bracing themselves for whatever Sorcha threw at them. By the end of the second day, most of their time was spent dodging, rolling, and throwing themselves behind cover.
Drystan, in particular, suffered the worst of it.
One poorly aimed fireball hit his helmet dead on, leaving nothing but a cloud of embers and an unfortunate consequence; his pants catching fire.
What followed was absolute chaos. Drystan tore off his armor, sprinting across the training grounds, flailing and cursing as flames licked up his legs.
Cat was doubled over, wheezing with laughter.
Rhosyn, between fits of giggles, still managed to summon a wave of water, drenching Drystan from head to toe.
He stood there, soaked and miserable, his once pristine tunic dripping onto the dirt.
“I’m done,” he declared flatly, throwing up his hands. “I’m absolutely done.”
For the rest of the day, the remaining guys had to draw sticks to decide who would be next in Sorcha’s line of fire.
Exhaustion was a permanent weight on Sorcha’s limbs.
The others fared no better. Drystan had yet to forgive her, Kyron had nearly taken an ember to the face as well and even Eirin was beginning to regret volunteering.
But there was no time to slow down. Each session pushed her further, each spell growing stronger, wilder.
And still, it wasn’t enough. She trained from dawn until long after nightfall, her body moving on pure determination alone.
Sleep was scarce. The few hours she managed to steal were restless, her mind too busy memorizing maps and scrawled notes.
Every spare moment was spent gathering supplies.
Commander Nethran had called upon the High Druids and priests to bless their weapons, gear, and even the clothing they would wear.
She packed canteens full of holy water, checked and rechecked their provisions.
If she wasn’t training, she was preparing.
There was no room for hesitation. No room for failure.
At the end of the third day, Eirin found her.
She was sitting on the edge of a wooden bench
near the forge, rolling the stiffness from her shoulders when
he approached. Without a word, he handed her a small box, a deep blue ribbon tied neatly around it.
Sorcha blinked at it, then at him. “What’s this?” “Just open it, don’t think I forgot your birthday,”
Eirin said, his voice softer than usual.
Sorcha smirked as tugged at the ends of the ribbon, letting it fall away before lifting the lid.
Inside, resting on soft cloth, were four intricately carved bracelets made of silver, each one etched with runes of protection.
She traced a finger over the delicate engravings.
The weight of them was solid, grounding.
“I wanted you to have something on you at all times that could protect you,” Eirin said. “I had two made for each wrist.”
She looked up at him. His smile wasn’t the usual smirk, nor the warm, easy grin she had grown used to.
There was a sadness behind it. Unspoken words lingered between them.
It wasn’t until Kyron saw the exchange that a sharp pang of jealousy flared in his chest. The way Eirin looked at her, the way she looked back, it burned through him.
He had known from the moment they met that he had feelings for Sorcha.
And he knew, perhaps, that Eirin loved her too.
But she had feelings for him as well, he was sure of it.
He clenched his fists at his sides, heat crawling up his spine.
He would prove himself. He would show her that she was meant for him, not Eirin. He just had to make her see it.
Lost in thought, he didn’t realize he had been staring until a voice cut through the moment.
Cat cleared his throat. “Cat got your tongue?” Kyron snapped his gaze to him, his glare ice cold.
Cat grinned, unbothered. “Ooooh, I think we’ve struck a nerve.”
The tavern was warm, filled with the scent of spiced cider, roasted meat, and the low hum of conversation.
But beneath the comfortable noise, tension curled at the edges of the room like a slow building storm.
Sorcha sat at their usual table, absentmindedly running her fingers over the rim of her cup, her mind already miles ahead on the path they would take, on the Veil, on what lay beyond it.
Commander Nethran cleared his throat, breaking the lull in conversation.
“Let’s go over the plan one last time.” His gaze settled on Sorcha.
“We ride at dawn. It’ll take nearly a full day to reach the outskirts of Cailleach’s Keep with the horses imbued with magic.
Once you’re there, you’ll be escorted to the Veil. ”
Sorcha nodded. “No one else should follow. Kyron and Cat will go with me. The rest of you stay behind.”
Eirin, who had been quiet for most of the night, finally spoke. “That’s a mistake.”
Sorcha sighed. “Eirin—”
“You shouldn’t go in with just them,” he pressed, leaning forward, his voice edged with frustration. “You’ll need another fighter. Someone who can watch your back”
“I can watch my own back.”
His teeth clenched. “That’s not the point.”
Before she could argue, Cat stretched lazily from where he perched on the table, tail flicking like he had been waiting for this moment.
“Oh, Eirin,” he purred, silver eyes gleaming. “You’re one of Lumora’s elite. If anything happens, you’re the best chance they have at defending the city. And, more importantly…” He tilted his head toward Sorcha. “You and Kyron don’t exactly bring neutral energy to the mission, do you?”
Eirin’s expression darkened, his fists clenching at his sides.
Sorcha stiffened, but she couldn’t argue. Cat wasn’t wrong. If Eirin and Kyron went with her, there would be too much unsaid lingering between them.
She needed someone who wouldn’t complicate things. She swallowed, choosing her words carefully. “If I had to take someone else, it would be Drystan or Rhosyn.”
Drystan, who had been listening with mild interest, grinned. “I’m available.”
Rhosyn rolled her eyes. “No one asked you.”
Sorcha ignored them, looking back at Eirin. “But I won’t risk you, or anyone else, for this. You’re needed here, we just need some of you to ride with us and make sure we make it across.”
Eirin’s gaze burned into hers, but he didn’t argue.
She didn’t know what he wanted to say, what he would have said if they weren’t in a room full of people but after a long moment, leaned back in his chair.
Kyron, who had been watching all of this with a careful expression, finally spoke. “We need to be focused when we cross. The Veil isn’t like anything in this world. It shifts, and if we aren’t careful, we could end up somewhere far worse than where we need to be.”
Sorcha nodded. “That’s why we need Cat. He knows a fairy mound that will take us across with the least resistance. It’s our best chance of making it through without immediately running into something we don’t want to face.”
Commander Nethran’s gaze swept over them all. “Then it’s settled.”
Sorcha barely heard him. She could still feel the tension crackling in the air, Eirin’s stare heavy on her skin, Kyron’s presence a reason for tension.
Cat, ever observant, tilted his head at her, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
She ignored him. Tomorrow, they would ride.
The streets of Lumora were quiet at this hour, lanterns flickering in their iron sconces, casting soft golden halos over the cobblestone paths.
The night was crisp, cool air curling around them as Sorcha and Cat walked in easy silence, the sounds of the tavern fading behind them.
The others had stayed behind, lingering over their drinks, laughter still echoing faintly in the distance.
But Sorcha had wanted to leave early. Maybe she just needed a moment of peace before everything changed.
And Cat, for once, had followed without a quip, padding beside her, his silver eyes reflecting the torchlight like mirrors.
They walked at a slow pace, unhurried, her boots tapping lightly against the worn stone roads.
It felt different tonight. The weight of what was coming settled between them.
As they reached the heart of town, the Skyfall Fountain shimmered ahead, water vapors rising where the cascade met the basin.
Beyond it, the towering cliffs cradled the true falls, water spilling down in torrents of silver, crashing into the depths below.
Sorcha paused at the edge of the square, her eyes drawn to the waterfall.
“There’s a story about these falls,” she murmured. Cat tilted his head, watching her. “Oh?”
She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself against the night chill. “It’s said they come from the Otherworld. That the water flows between realms. That this place is a meeting point, where the Veil is thinner.”
Cat was silent for a long moment, his tail flicking lazily as he stared at the rushing water. Then he let out a soft hum. “That would explain a few things.”
Sorcha huffed a quiet laugh. “You believe it?” “Would you believe me if I said I’ve seen stranger
things?” His voice was filled with mischief.
She turned to him then, studying the way the moonlight played across his features, the way his silver eyes caught the glow of the falls
He had given her his name. A gift and she hadn’t really said what she needed to.
“I want you to know,” she said softly, “I won’t betray you, Cat.”
His gaze flickered to hers.
She swallowed, holding his stare. “I understand what it means that you trusted me with your name. I know how much that cost you. And I need you to know, I would never use it against you. Never.”
His expression shifted. For once, he didn’t have some quick witted remark, some playful deflection. Instead, he smiled small, but real. “I know.”
Sorcha exhaled and before she could stop herself, she whispered, “I’m scared, Cat.”
His ears flicked. “Of what’s coming?”
“Of what I might become,” she admitted.
“Of what happens if I fail.”
Cat studied her for a long moment, then sighed, stepping closer. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you have me, isn’t it?”
She looked at him, searching. “You’re bound to me now, aren’t you?”
“I am.” He didn’t hesitate.
Her throat tightened. “You chose that?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
He exhaled, the smirk falling from his face, something gentler taking its place.
“Because you’re worth it.”
Sorcha blinked, caught off guard by the simple sincerity of it.
Before she could speak, Cat stretched, rolling his shoulders as he turned toward the road again.
“Now, come on, Sunshine. You need sleep. And so do I, apparently.” She let out a quiet laugh, shaking her head, but followed him down the path, casting one last glance at the waterfall.
A meeting place. A threshold between worlds. She only hoped, when the time came, she would find her way back.