The Keeper's Flame (A Pandoran Novel, #2) Read online

  Thad looked thoughtful. “Define bad.”

  I glanced around for a mirror, but all I could find were tall windows and oversized frowning portraits.

  “Here.” Thad waved his hand over my face and I felt a pulse of energy. “That should help. It’s not gone completely, but it’s faded.”

  I raised a brow. “You sure you didn’t make it worse?”

  He rolled his eyes this time. “Oh, come on. Why would I waste my brilliant pranks on you? You get yourself into enough trouble without me.”

  I glared at him.

  He pretended not to notice. “See you around, eh, Rook?”

  “Is that a threat?”

  He smiled then, showing his teeth. “Absolutely.” He started walking away and motioned for Egan to follow. Egan stopped running around my legs and slinked over to Thad, dragging his tail like a broom across the cold, granite floor.

  “Thad,” I said.

  He glanced over his shoulder.

  “Thanks.”

  He nodded and kept walking. “Egan, come!”

  My boots scraped up the staircase and down the long corridor that led to the library. My legs shook as I walked. This morning’s events replayed through my mind like a terrible nightmare.

  I reached the tall oak doors and paused. There were voices just beyond the door. Dad’s deep voice, answered by one that boomed and sounded very much like…

  I turned the handle and pushed the door in.

  Cicero Del Conte and his wife, Sonya, stood beside him.

  I hadn’t seen the Del Contes since that day, the day he had left, and I certainly didn’t expect the mere sight of them to affect me the way that it did. It was like he was standing there, smiling at me. Cicero’s eyes were his eyes, Sonya’s smile was his smile, and for a moment, I forgot to breathe.

  But then I remembered that he was just a memory, a memory they’d brought with them, a shadow they could not shake. I would never be able to look at them without seeing him; I would never be able to look at them without hurting inside.

  Dad got up from his seat, rushed over to me and pulled me into his thick arms. Winter and cold were on his skin and clothes, and his breath smelled like cinnamon. “I’ve missed you,” he whispered in my ear and pulled back, holding on to my shoulders. “Thad found you?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “He said you wanted to see me?”

  Cicero and Sonya appeared beside us, impatiently waiting their turn.

  Dad sighed and stepped aside, and no sooner had he let go than Sonya wrapped her slender arms around me and stroked my hair. “My darling, I’ve missed you.” She pulled back, studying my face with those dark eyes that saw and understood everything.

  I opened my mouth to tell her that I missed her, too, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want her to see me like this, weak and miserable and pathetic. I didn’t want her to see me like this and tell him. Instead, I said, “How have you been?”

  Her smile told me she’d already heard my silent battle. “I’m better now.” Her voice was kind and gentle, always the mother I’d never had. The mother that belonged to him. “But I worry about you.” She squeezed my shoulders.

  “Don’t.” I shrugged off her concern and forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to adjust to this primitive lifestyle without totally going insane.”

  She smiled back but she knew, and then her eyes paused on my cheek and a mix of concern and curiosity passed through her eyes.

  Please don’t say anything…please don’t say anything…

  “Almost six months and Gaia still hasn’t made a princess out of you.” Cicero beamed, gesturing to my attire.

  I arched a brow. “Well, we’ve already got Stefan. I don’t see the point in having two.”

  Cicero’s laugh boomed as he wrapped his arms around me, squeezing all the air out of my lungs.

  “How’d the fabric shopping go?” It was Dad, and his gaze had settled on my cheek.

  Shoot. “Fine,” I said a little too quickly.

  Dad’s face reddened as he opened his mouth to speak, but Sonya cut him off. “We saw Fleck a little bit ago. He seems happy.”

  I looked back into her eyes with a silent “thank you.” She smiled.

  “Where was he?” I asked.

  “His room,” Cicero said. “Awfully cold up there, especially for someone without any meat on their bones. I’m surprised he hasn’t frozen yet.”

  “Stefan said he’d check into moving Fleck,” I said, “at least for the winter. By the way”—I turned to Dad—“anything new?”

  “Actually,” Dad started, his eyes tight, “that’s what I need to talk to you about.”

  “Fleck?” I asked.

  He shook his head, raked a hand through his hair, and paced about the room. Cicero and Sonya stood quietly.

  Dad turned enough for me to see his face. There were only two times in my life when I could recall that expression. The first had been as a child, when I’d fallen off Cadence so hard that I couldn’t move and he thought I’d been paralyzed. The second, when he’d found me in the tunnels after being held prisoner. It wasn’t a good face, and I was glad I hadn’t seen it much, and I wished I wasn’t looking at it right then.

  “What happened?” I asked, scared now.

  He paused at the window, staring outside at nothing. “Have you heard of the dark rider?”

  That.

  I stood perfectly still, feeling Sonya’s gaze upon me, and waited for Dad to continue.

  “Perhaps you haven’t,” he continued, still pacing the room. “Around the time you were born, there was fighting in this world—terrible, gruesome fighting. A large contingent of men banded together and formed something called the shadowguard. The shadowguard spread throughout this world, attempting to break down the barriers between Gaia and Earth by destroying the portals.” Here he paused and flexed his fingers. “They were almost impossible to defeat. The powers they drew on were dark and seemingly infinite, and they were ruthless warriors. Entire towns were burnt to the ground, people were murdered—tortured in ways that still give me nightmares…” Dad stopped, staring at nothing, and then his eyes lifted to mine.

  “But,” he continued, “when their leader disappeared into the Icelands, the shadowguard fell apart and the fighting stopped.”

  “So…what does this have to do with the dark rider?” I asked.

  Dad’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “He was their leader.”

  “But he’s dead.”

  Dad shook his head. “Everyone thought he’d died. No one enters the Icelands and comes out alive—but he’s back.”

  The man in the forest, the one all in black. The one with winter inside of him. I had seen him and he had seen me. I had been so close to him, and he was…

  “Why?” I asked.

  Dad’s eyes flickered to the Del Contes, and then he started pacing again. “We’ve been trying to figure that out. Why now? Why hide out all these years? Why run from a war he’d been winning? But then we realized something.” He paused, staring at the window. “The reason this festival is so different than any other festival in the history of Gaia is because the true heir will be determined, and, according to prophecy, only the true heir can access the vast power imbued in this world. We think that when he led thousands against us, he realized something. That he could never break the portals down without Gaia’s power, and in order to gain Gaia’s power, he needed the unity stone.”

  “The…what?”

  “The unity stone.” Cicero stepped forward. “It was the very center piece of Galahad’s shield. Do you remember the story I’d told you? About how the shield was broken into pieces?”

  Vaguely. “Yes…?”

  “Well, the unity stone had been the center of that shield. It’d held all the pieces together; it had been the unifying element,” Cicero continued. “Inside of the stone lived part of Gaia’s spirit. The guild has kept it safe and hidden all these centuries, but this year” —Cicero held up a thick finger— “it will be the prize
of the games. This year, only the champion of the games may bring it back to life.”

  I didn’t know which frightened me more: their story or the fact that I believed this sort of nonsense without a doubt.

  “You think the dark rider has come back for the unity stone,” I said.

  Cicero exchanged a glance with my dad, and Dad’s eyes hardened. “Yes, and we think he’s after you, too.”

  Well, that was ridiculous. If he had been after me, he’d had the perfect opportunity.

  But then again, he had led me straight to Denn and his crew. Maybe that had been his plan all along. Maybe he had wanted me weak and helpless so that I couldn’t fight him.

  My stomach turned. “Why me?”

  Dad clenched his fists at his side. “The same reason Tiernan wanted you, the same reason I tried to keep you hidden on Earth all those years. They believe there is something about you, something they need to utilize that power.”

  I folded my arms. “Right. Like they need help from the one person in this entire world that can’t do magic.”

  Dad arched a brow. “That doesn’t matter, Daria. As long as the dark rider lives, your life is in danger.”

  Danger, danger, I was always in danger. Hard to believe when I couldn’t even leave the castle grounds.

  I shrugged. “Why not just cancel the games, then, and put the stone back in hiding?”

  Dad shook his head, lips tight with anger. “The people already think your grandfather is positioning himself to keep the crown” —Um, wasn’t he?— “so if I make the suggestion, they’re going to think we’ve planted the rumor. They’re impatient for the games—impatient for a rightful heir—and when people are so fixed on an idea, so intent and obsessed with it, it’s almost impossible to persuade them otherwise. They won’t see it even if the dark rider runs in front of them, not because they can’t see him, but because they don’t want to.”

  Dad stopped before me, his expression grim. “I need you to promise me something.”

  I waited, afraid of what he might ask, afraid of what other fence he was about to build around my tiny life.

  “I need you to promise me that you won’t leave the castle walls.”

  Afraid of that. “Leave the castle? But I already—”

  “Daria.” His gaze was hard and his eyes flickered to my cheekbone. My bruised cheekbone.

  Fuming, I folded my arms over my chest and turned away as someone knocked on the door.

  “I’ll get it,” Sonya whispered and rushed off; Cicero followed after her. They opened the door and started speaking to someone on the other side.

  Dad stepped toward me, searching my eyes. “Princess.” He hesitated. “You know I only say this because I love you.”

  I bit my lip, avoiding his gaze. “I know.”

  I knew he loved me. I knew he wanted to protect me. It was how it had always been, but it didn’t fix anything. It didn’t fix the fact that I was different. It didn’t fix the fact that I was alone and powerless and…fragile.

  Dad looked at me as if he were trying to infuse me with his strength. “It’s not forever, Daria. Once the dark rider is caught and we know who is behind this…”

  I clenched my jaw, staring at the space before me as my own anger bubbled inside of me.

  It could take months—years. It could take my entire life.

  Dad squeezed my shoulders. “I’m sorry. I hate doing this to you, but it’s…”

  “Dangerous,” I said. “Yeah, you said that already.”

  His regret swelled as he held my shoulders in silence. At last, he sighed and said, “How are you feeling…about the dinner tonight?”

  Well, this change of subject was equally upsetting.

  What he really wanted to know was if I were ready to see him.

  I swallowed and my chest felt like it was caving in on itself.

  Alex had been true to his word. Ever since he’d left that note beside my bed, I hadn’t seen or heard of him. The few people I did talk to, namely my family, Thad, and Fleck, never said his name—never so much as mentioned him in my presence.

  Like he had never existed. Like we hadn’t known each other all our lives.

  I wanted to hate him for it. I wanted to hate him for leaving me like this when he had promised he wouldn’t, but my hate couldn’t burn like I wanted it to. It couldn’t burn because my love for him kept quenching it.

  I couldn’t help it, either, as much as I tried. I wanted to forget him, but it was like forgetting my own name, because so much of who I had become was tied up in him.

  Dad placed a warm hand over mine, holding tight. “I know you miss him,” he whispered, and his tenderness wrapped around me like a warm blanket. “I know what the two of you shared was…important to you.”

  Important to me? What about him?

  Dad’s blue eyes turned bluer. “I just don’t want you to be…upset about what you might see tonight.”

  I froze. “Like what?”

  He sighed. “Alex and Vera have been—”

  “Prince Alaric,” Cicero interrupted, “Sir Armand de Basco is here to see you.”

  Cicero’s humor was gone; his face had turned serious, his voice reverent, and I didn’t like the anxiety building inside of him.

  Dad saw it, too. He dropped my shoulders and stepped back. “What is it?”

  The man called Sir Armand de Basco stepped forward. I’d seen him before, but only a couple of times. He was the head guard at the castle, which really meant he was everywhere but the castle. Every time he’d returned, I’d always noticed him because he reminded me of a musketeer. Baggy pants shoved into tall boots, Valdon’s dragon crest embroidered on the front and back of his black shirt, the slender sword at his waist, the dark mustache and the black Cavalier hat—the only thing missing was a feather.

  Armand’s dark eyes settled on my dad. “One of my guards spotted movement along the East Ridge. We sent two scouts, but they”—his eyes flickered to me before looking back at Dad—“haven’t returned.”

  Dad exchanged a glance with Cicero, and then Cicero nodded.

  Dad turned to me, grabbing my hands. “Princess…”

  “You’ve gotta go,” I said flatly.

  His lips tightened. “I won’t be far this time. Just the Aegis Quarters with the Del Contes and Sir Armand.”

  I turned and stared at the window.

  “I’ll find you before dinner this evening.” Dad squeezed my shoulder. “I promise.”

  I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

  He squeezed my shoulder again, nodded at Cicero, and walked to the door. Right before he left, he paused. His unease was palpable, his worry like a dark cloud, and then they left, closing the door behind them.

  Silence.

  The world outside was grey and the leaves had fallen, leaving nothing but twisting black spines behind. I pressed my forehead to the cold glass and watched my breath fog the window, obscuring the ground below.

  How did I get here?

  Just six months ago, I was comfortable and warm—happy, even—in Fresno.

  You hated Fresno.

  Okay, so maybe there were other places I would have rather lived, but here? Locked in a medieval castle, with guards and lords and a king, in a world with magic and dragons?

  Two horses pulled a carriage behind it, trot-trot-trotting over the cobblestone street far below. Fleck was scared of horses. Ever since our flight on the vox, he refused to get near one. He said he didn’t like their big teeth.

  I smiled to myself and stepped away from the window, wiping the condensation from my forehead.

  Fleck.

  His lessons with Master Antoni were probably done, now, and he’d be waiting for me to come and get him and take him to the library like we did every afternoon. He loved to read, which worked out well for me, and considering the library was filled with books neither of us had ever heard of or seen, our afternoons were quite riveting.

  It was the only entertainment either of us got. Reading the
adventures of others stronger than we were, more powerful than we were. Braver than we were.

  Our bodies might have been trapped inside the castle, but our minds were free to travel through time and space, roaming wherever they dared.

  I walked out into the hall and right into a flock of fluffy girls.

  They couldn’t have been much older than I was, outfitted in colorful tents, and even though it was the style of the nobles in this world, it still made me grin whenever I saw it.

  The girls didn’t notice me, though, because they were too busy staring out the window, transfixed on something beyond.

  Curious, I peered out the window beside them.

  A small crowd gathered in the courtyard below, cheering and smiling, surrounding two young men who were fighting with swords. It wasn’t a real fight, just practice. One was blond and aristocratic looking, and he smiled a handsome smile, and his opponent was a short, dark haired boy with an angry face.

  The blond boy took the angry one off guard, spun and knocked the angry boy’s sword from his hands. The crowd cheered, and the girls beside me giggled.

  Oh, please.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Gaia’s magic-less princess,” sneered one of the girls.

  I glanced over my shoulder at them.

  They had turned from the window and were watching me now. The one in front had curly red hair piled on top of her head, dark eyes full of derision, and a broad cherry-lipped smile I didn’t trust.

  The other two, flanking her, were blonde and much taller, but kept behind her.

  “I’m sorry.” I narrowed my eyes. “Do I know you?”

  The redhead lingered a moment, sucking on her lip—I really didn’t like the way she was looking at me—and then she stepped forward. “No, I don’t believe we’ve met, though I forget, you see, because I’ve heard so much about you.” She eyed me up and down with her lips curled. “These are my companions, Emera and Rae, and I am Isla Justine of Campagna.”

  She said her name like I should’ve known who she was, but I didn’t, and then she extended her pale, slender hand for me to take, which I didn’t.

  Her companions exchanged a glance behind her, but Isla wasn’t angry. In fact, she took the challenge, dropped her hand and her lips twisted with delight. “Tell me, princess, is it true…that the one and only princess of Gaia can’t do magic?”