Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4)

  Heir of Pendel

  By Barbara Kloss

  Copyright 2015 Barbara Kloss

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover art by Ben Kloss

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Dedication

  For my son, Brennan.

  Thanks for being so easy. And so cute.

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  1

  STEFAN

  "Thirty dead, sire." Sir Armand de Basco stood in the threshold. The door was gone, taken for firewood like every other bloody door in this depressing stone dungeon. "That is the total count from this morning's rounds."

  Thirty people—dead. That was in addition to the fifty or so tallied over the last few days. All because my uncle, Lord Eris Mordryck Regius, had planted his army of shadowguard just outside the city walls. He'd laid siege to Castle Regius, my home and the capital of Valdon, and our forces weren't numerous enough to fight back, at least not yet. Help from Gesh and Pendel would arrive soon, but while we waited for their reinforcements, my people were dying.

  It wasn't that Castle Regius hadn't prepared for a siege. My father had personally seen to the castle stores in case of an event like this. I'd always assumed his natural paranoia had driven him to such extremes, and Daria had assumed this as well, but recent events had proven that his paranoia wasn't for naught. He was, perhaps, the one person who hadn't underestimated the power of his brother, and he'd also been the one person who possessed the power to do anything about it. But he couldn't have foreseen this winter.

  This winter hadn't brought snow, but cold. A frigid cold that was colder than anything Valdon had ever endured, and we simply didn't have the right provisions. We didn't own the piles of furs and thick wools needed to combat this climate, and we certainly didn't have enough firewood. This was Valdon. While we may suffer winter, these temperatures were cold enough to freeze the Icelands.

  I rubbed my hands together, forcing down a shiver. It was colder than the winds on Hell's Peak in here. I refused to use our limited wood supply to light a fire in the hearth during our meetings. The people needed it more.

  "What's the status of the wells?" I asked.

  Sir Armand exchanged a hesitant glance with Aegis Brant, who sat at my table. "Ah, we're down to one, sire," Sir Armand de Basco replied.

  "One?" I leaned over the table. "Yesterday, you said there were four!"

  "Yes, and yesterday there were four. Since then, two have dried and one was poisoned."

  "Poisoned?" I growled. "You're supposed to be keeping an eye on them!"

  Sir Armand de Basco's lips thinned. "We are, sire."

  "Then how in the seven territories was it poisoned?"

  "I don't know. I found out when one of my lieutenants died after drinking from it this morning." Sir Armand's tone was as cold as the air.

  I leaned back in my chair and pinched the bridge of my nose. One well. How could a city survive off of one well? That was aside from the fact we'd run out of firewood a week ago, and with the roads blocked to and from the city, we'd been forced to start burning the furniture. Even so, there still wasn't enough for all the inhabitants of this city to burn a fire all day and all night. And my people were freezing to death.

  I clenched my fist upon the table—the long, sturdy table that had been a great family heirloom. According to my grandfather, who was still wasting away in his chambers, the table had been used for diplomacy for generations, even before my grandfather stepped onto Gaia's throne. I stood and my chair screeched. "Someone get this bloody table out of here!" I yelled.

  Uncertain glances flitted across the table. My advisors were all so buried in wool, it was as though I were surrounded by a bunch of cloak stands. They moved like cloak stands, too, which meant not at all.

  "Sire, is this really necessary?" Headmaster Ambrose said in a condescending tone that I was beginning to loathe. "It is a short-sighted solution to a much larger problem."

  "Then give me a long-sighted solution, Headmaster, because I'm losing my patience with you and your guild. For all your combined talent and foresight, you've done nothing to help bolster our defenses, let alone help us survive this damned cold."

  The table fell silent. Bitter wind rattled the windows, whistling through the cracks, and the Headmaster's anger simmered around him in a mirage. His power used to frighten me, but it wasn't frightening me now.

  "I assure you the guild is doing all it can." His words fell flat and chilled, the edges of his voice frayed.

  "In only three days, almost one hundred people have frozen or dehydrated to death, Headmaster. One hundred!" I narrowed my eyes upon him. "This table can go. It should've gone yesterday."

  Headmaster Ambrose stared absently at me, frowning as he folded his long fingers together, which were just visible at the ends of his heavy crimson sleeves.

  My gaze darted around the table, irritated. "Move!"

  Everyone stood at once, chairs screeching throughout the empty hall, and about a dozen servants came and carted the huge table away. I stalked over to the window and looked out. There were so many shadowguard just beyond the wall, thousands upon thousands of them, flooding the valley like black water hemmed in only by our great wall. They waited there as they had been doing for three days, and they seemed to be weathering this cold rather well, bloody half-breeds. I wondered how many of them were human Morts and how many were my uncle's blasphemous creations, because it was impossible to tell from here, especially when they all wore the same black armor. I didn't see Tiernan in their midst today, or Eris, but that didn't mean they weren't out there somewhere.

  I reached out to grip the drapery before I remembered it had also been taken and used as kindling. I let my hand fall to my side, aware of my advisors behind me, silent and watchful.

  "This isn't your fault," Aegis Cicero Del Conte said quietly. He was trying to comfort me, but I was far beyond the point of ever being comforted again.

  "The citizens of this world are dying, Aegis Cicero," I said at the window. "Under my care. It's eve
ry bit my fault." I glanced over my shoulder at Sir Armand, who still stood in place of the door. "How much wood do we have left?"

  "Enough to get through one more night, your highness."

  Spirits of the realm. One more night. Gesh and Pendel would never get here in time. We were trapped here.

  I had failed.

  I stared absently at a little bubble in the diamond-shaped pane of glass in the window. I might have failed the people of Valdon, but I could still help the rest of Gaia.

  "Leave me," I said.

  I didn't hear movement, and when I looked over my shoulder, all of my advisors were still standing there.

  "I said leave!"

  My advisors shuffled away, all accept for Aegis Cicero Del Conte. He stood in my periphery, his attention fastened on the window as the last of my advisors slipped out of the great hall. He would know what I intended. He would know because my father had always shared everything with him. Aegis Cicero Del Conte was the one man my father had trusted with his life, just as Alexander was the one man I trusted with mine…and Daria's.

  "Are you sure about this, Stefan?" he asked quietly.

  "Yes." I pinched my lips together and turned to face him. He looked so weary inside all those layers. "I don't see that I have a choice. I have no idea when Gesh and Pendel will arrive, if they arrive, and I can't wager the safety of this entire world on a game of time. Every moment I wait is a gift to my uncle. The people need to be warned, and they need to get to safety immediately."

  He nodded a fraction. I knew he was thinking about his family, just as I was thinking about mine. What I was about to do might mean we'd never see them again.

  "I will leave you to it, then," he said.

  Just as he started to turn, I said, "Cicero."

  He paused and looked up at me with Alexander's green eyes, and then I remembered Daria, and my chest squeezed a little.

  "What do you think my father would have done?" I whispered.

  Cicero gave me a tight smile, a sad smile. One that was nostalgic for the past but resigned to the present. One that wasn't going to fill me with false hope, but would also let me know that he would stand by me no matter what I decided. He reached out and rested his hand on my shoulder. "He would've done right by the people, just as you are." He squeezed my shoulder, turned on his heels and strode out of the room. The hall was empty and cold, and I'd never felt more alone.

  The little box taunted me from where it sat, hidden inside the table in the far corner of the room. The small table was the last surviving piece of furniture still standing inside this big stone box of a room. I hadn't sent the table to be hacked to pieces because of what it contained: a failsafe for a kingdom on the brink of extinction.

  I walked toward the small table. This needed to be done, and I needed to do it fast because each second that passed meant more lives lost. The narrow drawer squealed open, and I reached in and pulled the box out then set it on top of the desk. It was a tiny box, a little larger than my hand, made of red wood from the Arborenne, and even after all these years it still smelled like sweet roses. My hands trembled as I lifted the lid—whether from cold or nerves, I didn't know—and there it was, just as it had always been. But today I would use it to do something I never dreamed would have to be done. Today, I would use it to save the people of Gaia.

  2

  DARIA

  When I opened my eyes, Sir Torren's hall was gone.

  There were no walls or tapestries or torches. There was no long table surrounded by high-backed chairs. There was no Vera or Thad or Sonya.

  Or Alex.

  I was alone, and I wasn't entirely sure where I was.

  Master Durus's amulet weighed heavily upon my chest, the chilled metal seeping through my thin blouse. Back in Sir Torren's hall, I'd wrapped my hands around the amulet and focused on Danton. That was how amulets worked: You focused on the place you wanted to go—in my case, to Orindor—and the magic stored inside the device would transport you there. Sort of like a handheld portal. I'd taken great pains focusing on Danton, imagining him the way he'd looked on the castle roof the night right before the games began, even though my mind kept superimposing that image of him with the one of him on Hell's Peak: the cruel and possessed psycho maniac. Still, the amulet should've taken me straight to him, maniac or no, but I couldn't see Danton anywhere. I couldn’t see anything anywhere, because I seemed to be standing in the middle of a cloud. At night.

  Slowly, my eyes began to adjust. Giant shadows stood all around me, looming like veiled giants, and it took me a few moments before I realized those veiled giants were really just manicured hedges. Rows and rows of them, standing like massive pillars in a circle around me. A brisk breeze ruffled my cloak, bringing with it the scents of rain and freshly cut grass, and I drew my cloak close, wrapping my arms around myself. Apparently, I was in some sort of garden. What the heck was I doing in the middle of a garden?

  That's when I heard a giggle. A very feminine giggle, followed by a smooth masculine voice.

  Ohhhh.

  Well, I hadn't considered…that. I didn't really know if the masculine voice belonged to Danton, but even if it did, it wasn't like I had any claim on him. I'd been un-claiming him for months, and I was pretty sure he'd gotten the point by now. Still, I preferred to leave these mystery lovers…well, a mystery, so I started walking in the opposite direction, and then hesitated. I'd left everything I loved—right in the middle of the night—in order to have a very important conversation with Danton, and if he was the identity of the male mystery lover in the garden, then I needed to know. If it wasn't him (which I really hoped it wasn't), then maybe whoever it was could direct me out of this hedge-maze to where I might be able to find Danton. I still didn't even know if I'd landed in Orindor, so maybe I'd ask that first. I took a deep breath, gathered my wits, and strode forward in the direction of Giggles.

  It was difficult making sense of anything in this oppressive fog. Which was probably why the mystery lovers were out here in the first place. Giggles laughed again, a little to my left and much closer than I'd anticipated. Oh, this was just so awkward.

  I told you not to come, you know.

  Yeah, you say a lot of things.

  But you really shouldn't be here. You don't love him and you never will.

  I pinched my lips together and kept walking.

  The man you love is on the other side of the world, and you walked away from him!

  I didn't have a choice.

  What was that you told Alex once? About always having a choice?

  My next steps landed a little harder than necessary, and I stopped beside one of the hedges, cleared my throat and said, "Excuse me…?"

  My unexpected summons was answered with a shock of surprise, a shuffling of fabric, and then…silence. I was about to open my mouth to say something more, when a shadow separated itself from a hedge just ahead. The shadow moved forward with, thank goodness, a very human gait, and it stopped a few yards in front of me.

  Of course it was him.

  Even in the darkness and haze, Danton's blond hair shone like soft moonlight. His eyes were hidden in shadow, and a soft ray of ambient light from a distant torch crossed over his fitted black tunic in an effervescent sash of gold. My heart beat a little faster. I hadn't seen him since Hell's Peak, and we certainly hadn't parted on the best of terms. Actually, I'd punched him in the face.

  Maybe this hadn't been my best idea.

  Danton's bewilderment swept over me, followed by a surge of anger that heated me where I stood. Definitely not a good sign.

  What did you expect? He asked to marry you and you ran to the other side of the world—with Alex. You're lucky he's not yelling for his guards.

  Conscience, two. Daria, zero.

  I would need to tread forward very carefully. I might be the princess of Gaia, and my hand in marriage might have been highly coveted before, but right now, with the way things stood, I was the princess of a kingdom in severe distress. A kingdom that
needed Orindor's help or it would fall prey to my uncle and his shadowguard. Right now, this princess did not have the advantage. Lord Danton Pontefract of Orindor did, and he knew it.

  Danton took another step forward, and this time that sash of golden light slid to his face, illuminating his clear blue eyes. They were about as readable as a block of wood, but gauging by his swirling emotions, he hadn't written me off just yet. This gave my waning courage a much-needed boost. My ability to sense others' emotions did have its advantages.

  "How?" was all he said.

  I stopped clenching my cloak and let the panels fall open, exposing the amulet resting upon my blouse. His eyes drifted from my face and settled on the amulet.

  "I see." His eyes slid back to mine. "I must admit, Princess, you are the last person I expected to find standing there."

  "I know, and I'm so sorry I'm intruding on you like this," I said, "and I should've sent word, but I came as fast as I could to talk to you about—"

  My words were cut off as Giggles manifested itself beside Danton in the shape of a young woman. No, not just any young woman, but Isla Justine, the girl I'd met at the castle during the games. The girl who'd tricked me into a pile of fire ants. My skin burned just thinking about it, and my hand suddenly ached for my dagger.

  So she was who Danton had been messing around with out here? I guess I hadn't realized they were so…well acquainted. Isla's hair was more than a little out of sorts, and by the way her cloak angled from her shoulders, I guessed she'd thrown it back on in a hurry. She still hadn't recognized me, though, because she hadn't peeled her sappy doe-eyes from her demi-god lord yet.

  "My lord?" Isla blinked coquettishly up at Danton, clinging to his arm in a very close and familiar way. I noticed he didn't return the familiarity, standing still as marble, with an inscrutable gaze locked on my face. "Are you going to introduce me to…" Isla's voice trailed as she finally—finally—recognized me.

  And I'd thought Vera's glares could flay a person alive.