Chapter Two
Syaoran's body landed with a thud on the stone floor. The sound alone was enough to jar Sakura out of her panic-induced paralysis; she ran up to him.
His face was paler than she'd ever seen it, as if all the blood had leaked away from his skin. When she lifted a shaking hand to his neck to feel for a pulse, his skin felt icy cold. "Syaoran . . ." she whimpered, as if she'd been the one who'd been ripped to shreds. Twin trails of saltwater ran down her cheeks, the clear droplets splashing onto his slackened features.
But he was alive. His pulse was faint, irregular, but it was there, and that was all that mattered. Knowing she couldn't move him on her own, she got up and ran up the narrow stairwell leading up to the ground level.
The storm had abated since she'd entered the ruins, but the sudden stillness unnerved her. The desert around her was silent, devoid of life.
Her first instinct was to run back to the palace. I can't go back, she realized as she took her first step. Whoever killed the guards could be looking for me right now. The initial shock of seeing the bodies had kept her from reacting in a panic, but now fear seized up all her muscles, leaving her frozen where she stood. They could all be dead by now. My brother, Yukito-san, all the servants. I might be the only survivor. I can't go back. A shudder ran down her back.
She revised her strategy, running to the nearest houses for help. "Excuse me!" she called, praying someone would wake up at her cry. "The palace has been attacked. I need help."
Torches flickered to life within the house, and the curtain hanging over the door spread wide to let her in. She skittered inside, like a mouse fleeing into the wall. "Thank you," she said, turning. When she saw the black mask of her savior, she froze. "Who are you?"
The masked man said nothing, just reached out and snatched her arm. With a quick movement, he jerked her forward and spun her around. A thin metal edge pressed against her throat, drawing blood. Her eyes flashed open wide, arms struggling against the tight hold of her attacker.
She did the only thing she could think to do in that moment: she screamed.
The knife dug deeper into her flesh, causing real pain now. Horror swept through her as she realized she was about to die. I won't be able to save Syaoran, she thought helplessly, staring at the blank wall in front of her. As she waited for the knife to bury itself in her carotid artery, she saw the clay wall warp and shift in front of her. Within the distortion, a bluish-gray line formed, splitting the air as it parted. Several men, all wearing the same faceless masks and dark clothes of the one holding the dagger to her throat, came through the distortion, as if it was a door from another world.
What is going on here? she wondered. Though she hadn't seen everything the world had to offer, nothing in her experience could possibly explain what had just happened. Maybe Yukito-san would know, she thought irrelevantly. Not that I'll get a chance to ask.
The men stormed out of the rift in a seemingly endless chain. None of them so much as looked at her as they passed. No one's coming to help, she realized, feeling cold. Some part of her tried to argue, tried to reassure her that Touya, or Yukito, or someone from the castle would come to her aid, would've heard her scream. But she knew that wasn't true.
She changed tactics, addressing her captor. "What do you want from me?"
No answer.
"If it's gold, or any sort of riches . . . you can have it." Clow wasn't a rich country, but they had some valuables. Perhaps her attackers would be more motivated by greed than by the fear of getting caught.
Still no answer.
"Isn't that it? What else could you want?" Possible answers flitted through her mind: the throne, the land, her life. If they wanted to kill me, wouldn't they have done it already? "Just tell me. Whatever you want, you can have it."
The masked man kept silent. Is he mute? she wondered. Given that all the soldiers had their faces concealed, she could only guess at the measures their employer would go to in order to keep their identity anonymous. I'm not going to get an answer, either way. I need to think of something else. Yukito-san's been trying to teach me magic, maybe I can Call him. She focused her magic, just like Yukito had taught her, and sent it out like an arrow through the night. Help, help, there's been an attack! she yelled, praying someone was still alive to hear her. It would be Yukito, if no one else. Whoever these people are, they wouldn't see him as a threat, not compared to the armed guards. She flinched at the thought. Her guards had been the most competent in Clow, able to fend off many lesser warriors in the event of an attack. Our enemy must be very powerful, to slay them so easily.
But as she considered what had happened, she realized just how easy it could've been. If these people could appear from distortions in the air, surely they could stick a sword in someone's back before they had a chance to react.
Fear twisted in her gut like a knife. They could be killing Syaoran right now. They could be in the ruins, they could take him. Whatever happened back there with those feathers left him vulnerable. I never should have left.
Her distress must've been apparent to her captor, because the arm around her waist tightened until she struggled to breathe. I have to keep Calling, she told herself, summoning the image of Yukito-san's face to her mind. I'm near the edge of town. I need help, and so does Syaoran. Please!
She thought she heard the faintest whisper of a response, but she couldn't be sure. She tilted her head up to look at the featureless mask of her captor. "Why are you doing this?"
The man—if he even was a man—gave no reply except to adjust his hold slightly. Tears ran down her face. What have I gotten myself into? she wondered hopelessly, while the rest of her kept Calling. Yukito-san! Touya! Somebody, I need help!
This time, the response was clear enough to be accurately labeled as an answer. She closed her eyes in prayer. Please get here soon, someone.
The gods granted her wish, because at that moment, the curtain over the door came free with a ripping sound, and her brother's voice exploded through the air. "Get your hands off my sister!"
Her captor repositioned his arms so he had one hand free, the other still coiled about her abdomen. Before he could use his knife on Touya, he lost his hand. Sakura recoiled as the droplets of blood splashed against her face, and managed to wriggle free of her captor's hold.
She watched her brother finish the job with one decisive sweep of his sword, and winced.
Yukito-san plowed through the now-uncovered doorway, walking backwards as he fended off another masked man with his magic staff. He knocked the man unconscious with a blow to the temple, then spared a glance for her.
"Yukito-san, Syaoran's been hurt in the ruins," she told him, almost in tears again.
Alarm crossed his features. Unlike her brother, Yukito was fond of Syaoran. He visited the castle often enough that Yukito had started treating him like a family member instead of a guest. "Is he still at the ruins?"
"Yes. Something happened. He sprouted wings and then they broke apart and the feathers flew away." She made expressive gestures to accompany the explanation, but that didn't seem to clear the confusion on Yukito-san's face. "You have to see him right away."
The bespectacled priest turned to Touya. "Do I have your leave, Your Majesty?"
Her brother rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I guess. You better take care of my sister while you're out there."
Sakura was already at the door. "C'mon, let's go!"
They hurried across the sands. Now that the sandstorms had abated, traversing the open desert was a relatively quick process. She saw a few masked men running to and from the ruins, but didn't hesitate as they ran toward the wing-shaped structure. There was no time to go back and get Touya, and he'd probably rejoin them as soon as he was able. Yukito's skill with a staff would have to be enough to get them through this.
The masked men didn't attack them as they ran into the mountains. They had either misidentified her, or whatever task they were doing here was no longer at risk by her intervention. "This way," she said, pulling the High Priest down the narrow stairwell leading to the lowest level of the ruins.
Syaoran's body still lay there, pale and unmoving. She staggered over to him, her throat tightening as the gravity of his condition hit her anew. "Can you do anything for him?" she asked as Yukito knelt down beside him. The priest pressed two fingers to Syaoran's forehead, then flinched in surprise.
"I don't believe it," he whispered.
"What?"
"His memories are gone. All the pieces of his soul . . . It's astonishing."
"But is there anything you can do?"
"Nothing in my power is strong enough to save him."
Despair jolted through her, splitting her heart as if it was made of tissue paper instead of muscle. Yukito looked at her with great intensity and rested two hands on her shoulders.
"Do you truly wish to save him? More than you wish to stay here?"
"Yes. Of course I do!"
"Touya would never approve of this." Resolve formed in the blond's eyes, and he lifted his hands from her shoulders to get a good grip on his staff. "Stand up, Sakura-chan."
She stood, struggling to fend off the dizzying panic as she moved. Curls of light wound around Yukito's staff, magic in its purest form, and wrapped around her and Syaoran. "I am sending you to the Space-Time Witch," he told her, as the world wavered around her. "She commands much greater power than I do. If there is any way to save him, she will know."
Sakura nodded. "I understand."
The shimmering lights moved like viscous liquid around her, warping the air just like it had been right before the masked men had come storming into this world. She caught one last glimpse of Yukito's determined face before her body was pulled away to another world.
