Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) Read online

  "Why of course I care what you think, your highness," she said. "If there's any opinion I hold dear, it would be yours. I'll admit you and I might have gotten off on the wrong footing, but I believe it was all just a misunderstanding on my part and I would really like for the two of us to be friends."

  Despite myself, I laughed, then hid it with a cough. "I don't think that's possible."

  She looked stricken.

  Bravo, Isla!

  "Your highness, whatever I've done to offend you, I am truly sorry. I only thought, since we share a common acquaintance, it would make things easier if we were on the same side."

  "And which side is that?" I stood, looking down into her face of Grammy-Award winning innocence.

  "Why, in this male-dominated world, we females must stick together, your highness. Watch out for one another, you know, since we are both guests in this house, but also because our reputations are all we have to recommend us."

  "Thanks for your concern, but I'd rather look out for my own reputation." I smiled tightly then turned away from her.

  "Don't think I don't know what you're up to."

  I looked at her over my shoulder. She'd lost the disguise, eyes narrowed and cheeks flushed with anger. Finally! "You know, Isla, I think that is the only honest thing you've said to me in the last ten minutes."

  Her fingers flexed over her gloves. "You don't want me as your enemy. You've no idea the things I could do—"

  "Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," I cut her off, turning to face her completely. "I know your type. You have nothing of any value to offer society, so you spin lies, hoping to elevate your own standing by bringing others down. You think a pretty face and coquetry will get you whatever you want, and maybe, in your case, you're right. It seems to have worked pretty well for you so far, otherwise you wouldn't be standing here now, engaged to Lord Danton. You're good at spinning sticky webs, I'll give you that. But you should stop wasting your energy on me. I've faced pykans and barghests and shadowguard and gargons, and I've fought against an army of dead men. I am not afraid of you. Say what you want about me; I don't care. Spread your lies and filth, but I will not be goaded into this manipulative, political chatter another second, so unless you have something honest and important to say, quit wasting both of our time and leave me alone."

  Hell, fire, and brimstone…right on your head.

  I hadn't really meant to say all of that, but once I'd started I couldn't stop. At some point during my monologue, her cherry-red lips had parted and she'd gaped at me as if I'd suddenly started speaking Parseltongue.

  "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?" a male voice asked behind me.

  Isla regained composure at once—oh, she was good—and smiled broadly before dipping into a low curtsy. "Good morning, my lord."

  Danton stood between hedges, cool eyes sliding from Isla and settling on me. He looked tired this morning, but handsome, his hair elegantly tousled, and he was dressed all in black with a black cape trimmed in red, which fell from one shoulder. He raised a pale brow, and I wondered how much of my little speech he'd heard.

  "You haven't interrupted anything at all," I said matter-of-factly. "In fact, Lady Isla and I were just talking about you."

  "Oh?" His eyes were only on me, his aristocratic face unreadable, but I felt a swell of his amusement. "Should I be concerned?"

  I approached him with a confidence I didn't feel. "Of course not. Lady Isla had nothing but wonderful things to say about you." I beamed back at her, and despite her flirtatious smile, her anger simmered.

  Danton looked satisfied and extended an elbow to me. "Good," he said as I took it. "I have enough to remedy as it is, and I'd hate to add more to the list. By the way…" He leaned back to look at me. "You look lovely this morning."

  I laughed, very aware of Isla watching us. "Oh, please. I'm wearing riding clothes."

  He smiled in a way that made me want to run in the opposite direction. "It suits you, though." He reached out and trailed a finger along my braid, which was draped over one shoulder. "You remind me of a wild stallion."

  I swallowed and glanced away, wishing he'd stop looking at me like that and wanting him to stop touching my hair. "Thank you, I think."

  "Oh, it is definitely a compliment," he said, and then as if suddenly remembering Isla was still standing there, he said, "I'll be taking her highness, now. Thank you for keeping her company in my absence."

  Isla's cheeks turned as red as the lining of Danton's cape, and her gaze fell. "It was my pleasure, my lord."

  Without another word, he led me away from her and out of the gardens, and I knew without a doubt that Isla would find a way to punish me for this.

  5

  ALEXANDER

  We reached Karth's portal in a few hours. It took longer than I'd hoped collecting Arioch Prime and Sir Torren. Sir Torren had been hesitant opening the portal during a time of war. In the end, we convinced him that the extreme situation warranted extreme action, and he agreed to let us through.

  Karth's portal sat at the top of a mountain. The only way to reach it had been via staircase—one that had been carved into the mountainside. It'd been nicknamed the Stair of One Thousand because it possessed one thousand steps, and I'd felt every single one of them. Even without Thaddeus counting.

  Somewhere around step sixty-three, Vera said, "If you don't stop, I'm going to shove you over the edge."

  Thaddeus took her threat to heart…for about a minute, and then murmured, "Eighty-one, eighty-two…"

  Vera growled and shoved him.

  He laughed as he tripped up the next step, caught himself, and resumed walking. He also resumed counting. They went back and forth like this the entire way, and by some miracle of the spirits, there weren't any casualties.

  We were all sweating and lightheaded from altitude by the time we reached the top. The sun rose behind us, cresting the jagged spires marking the Way of Kings. The portal itself stood like a monument. It boasted a stone platform, runes and symbols etched into the surface, framed by a wall that curved in a semicircle around the perimeter. The wall was made of smooth stone, save one runic word that'd been carved in the center. I didn't know what the runes said; I couldn't read or speak Ancient Karthan. Poised on top of the wall, like a sentinel over the city, was a great stone dragon. It'd been masterfully chiseled, ribbed wings spread across the breadth of the wall's rim, neck stretched tall and snakelike with eyes fixed on the city below. It looked like the dragon that had carried Daria back to me that night.

  In my mind, I saw her body limp in the dragon's talons. I couldn't remember a moment in my life when I'd been so afraid—afraid I'd lost her. Only to let her run straight to Danton. I fisted my hands, angry. I had no idea what would come of the path I was on, but I did know one thing: For as long as I lived, I would never stop fighting for her.

  Thaddeus and Vera argued nearby about something as my mother approached me.

  "The man who'll be waiting for you is called Drago Campinelli," she said.

  Drago Campinelli. "That name…it sounds familiar," I said.

  "He used to call us occasionally. In Yosemite. But you were just a little boy then."

  A vague memory came to mind of a gruff voice speaking words flying too fast to process.

  "He used to be an aegis," she continued. "He'd travel between the portals on the Earthen side for Prince Alaric, but then he fell in love with Italy and decided to stay there. When we'd return to Yosemite, he'd call your father to catch up on everything happening in Gaia."

  "Drago," I repeated, remembering. "Wasn't he the one who sent me a greatsword on my fifth birthday?"

  She chuckled. "The very one."

  I grinned. The sword had come with a card that'd said, "You're never too young." My parents had locked the sword away until I was twelve.

  "And you trust him to get us to the States?" I asked.

  "Absolutely," she said, and then glanced askance at Vera and Thaddeus, who were still arguing. "I'd worry more
for your sanity, if I were you."

  "They're risking their lives for me," I said.

  My mother looked straight into my eyes. "Alexander, they respect you—they always have. I know you could use the help, and Gaia knows I have some consolation knowing you're not going about this alone, but don't forget it was their choice to follow you. You are a leader—you always have been. Everywhere you've gone, people have followed you and looked to you for guidance and counsel. Lord Tosca was no fool when he sought you out for Alioth."

  "That was different," I said. "His assignments only put me at risk. But this is my choice. My mission. I am directly responsible for what happens to them."

  She grabbed my hand. "You've always been responsible for them, Alexander. It just wasn't so obvious before, not like it is now." Before I could argue, she squeezed my hand and said, "You aren't a leader because you promise no one will get hurt. You are a leader because you have something inside of you others are drawn to. You possess a strength of mind and an integrity that gives them hope, and through you, they feel as if they can be part of something greater than themselves—that they can really make a difference in this world. And they look to you to guide them in that pursuit. Be honored, because they follow you out of love rather than duty. Not even many kings can say that. They don't expect you to be perfect, but they know who you are and they expect you will inevitably do what is right and what is honorable. They trust that man with their whole heart, and Gaia has and will bless you for it."

  Her encouragement only made me feel worse. "I'm not worthy of that kind of trust."

  She moved her hand to my cheek. "Which is precisely why they will continue giving it to you." Her jaw clenched and unclenched. "You are my only son, my love, and I could not have asked for a better man to call so. Your father and I have been so blessed by you…" She breathed in slowly, gathering herself. Struggling to be an aegis instead of my mother. "Please…be careful."

  I wrapped my arms around her. "I love you."

  She squeezed me tight but let go quickly, smiling up at me with wet eyes.

  Vera and Thaddeus stood near the edge of the platform. They were no longer arguing, but watching us, waiting. Arioch Prime discussed something with Sir Torren, and Arioch, sensing our conversation had ended, looked up and smiled.

  "I see we're ready," he said. "You three must stand in the center there…" He waved a hand at the platform.

  "You're certain nothing will come back through after them?" Sir Torren asked.

  Arioch sighed. "No, I'm not certain. The portal will land them in the middle of a large cathedral, so if anything sneaks through from the other side, it will most likely be a priest. On second thought, perhaps you should evacuate the entire city immediately."

  Sir Torren frowned at Arioch, who'd already turned his attention to Thaddeus and Vera.

  "No, no, Vera," Arioch said. "Stand closer to him…yes, like that."

  Vera's side was now touching Thaddeus's. To say she looked furious was an understatement. Thaddeus, however, preened. I exchanged a worried glance with my mother, who shook her head and chuckled. I took my place on Vera's other side. My mother and Sir Torren stepped back, and Arioch Prime took his place at the edge of the platform. He spread his arms, lifted his face to the sky, and began chanting.

  A gust of wind ripped across the mountaintop and a great, dark cloud slid over the sun. More clouds coalesced in the sky above, churning and frothing like the Black Sea. Arioch's chants grew louder and louder, and great bolts of lightning forked through the dark sky. Thunder crackled, Thaddeus jumped, and the runic word on the wall began glowing white. It was faint, but growing brighter and brighter by the second. Suddenly, the light flashed blinding white, I shut my eyes, and a pulse of whispers came from everywhere at once. Air squeezed around my body, then released. The world fell silent, and I opened my eyes.

  We stood in an exedra, a sanctuary of the gods—or God, considering where we'd landed. The walls and floors were covered in glossy marble, and everything glistened in a golden hue. A double ramp of curved, marble stairs rose before us, joining at the main floor. This exedra opened to the structure above, and the ceiling was so far away it looked as though it touched the heavens.

  Thaddeus gasped. "Whoa."

  "Stop saying that word," Vera snapped.

  Thaddeus touched one of the marble columns. "This place looks like it was made out of gold. Is Earth made out of gold, Del Can't? I think I would've remembered a detail like that…"

  Vera jabbed her elbow in his ribs.

  Judging by the dark and quiet, the cathedral was closed to the public. But it would open soon, and we needed to be out of here well before then.

  "We can't use magic here," I whispered as a reminder. Vera started pulling her blades free and I shook my head. "Keep them sheathed. There might be guards on the main floor."

  "Then shouldn't we keep them out?" she asked, confused.

  "Earth isn't like Gaia," I said. "People don't walk around carrying weapons, and doing so could get you in some serious trouble."

  She thought this over. "If that's true, then the people are idiots. How is a person supposed to defend herself?"

  This was a long discussion we didn't have time for right now. "Would you just do it, please?" I asked. "You'll have to trust me on this."

  She didn't look convinced, but she slid her blades back in their sheaths anyway. I nodded my thanks. I wasn't worried about our aegis attire. Fitted black leathers weren't cause for concern, and they certainly wouldn't stand out at night. Cloaks might have, but we'd left those back in Karth.

  I glanced sharply at Thaddeus. "And keep quiet."

  He gasped, all innocence and offense. I ascended the stairs, quiet and careful, my boots landing without sound. Before I reached the top I paused, crouching near the locked, waist-high gate. I listened, resting my shoulders against the thick marble balustrade. The cathedral was quiet—too quiet, and it made me uneasy.

  I crept up and swung my legs over the balustrade, landing swiftly and silently upon the main floor, and crouched low. A smattering of dim lights softened the darkness around me. I inched along the balustrade, pressing myself against the squat columns while scanning the shadows of the nave. Thaddeus and Vera followed, and I heard Thaddeus gasp again as he took in the enormity of the cathedral.

  St. Peter's Basilica was a magnificent sight. Deemed the largest cathedral on Earth, it had definitely earned its designation. It made a person feel dwarfish—minuscule—as if we'd stepped into the home of a god, and its grandeur demanded a moment of silent awe and admiration. But we didn't have time for admiration. We needed to get out of here. Now.

  I ushered them behind a marble plinth of one of the helical, bronze columns of the great ciborium marking St. Peter's burial chamber. Thaddeus didn't see my cue, distracted by the great heights above, and Vera tugged him after us before he wandered out in the open. The three of us slipped into the shadows of the back wall. There I waited, listening, my hand on the hilt of my sword. If we ran into cathedral guards, I wasn't sure how we'd explain ourselves, or our weapons.

  I slipped out of the main nave and off to the side, hugging the wall of niches, and the other two followed. We crept behind the massive columns and beneath the grand arches. It was a shame, walking through this prodigious structure without taking time for proper appreciation. Thaddeus, however, seemed to be appreciating it well enough. Vera grabbed hold of the end of his shirtsleeve and dragged him along. She didn't look very happy about it.

  I was snaking behind the next column when I heard a pin-drop of sound. I froze, and Thaddeus and Vera stopped beside the column behind me, looking puzzled. I held up two fingers, and then pointed in the direction of the sound, and we waited.

  I couldn't see anyone, but there were plenty of dark niches to hide inside. Thaddeus gestured all was clear and waved his hand to urge me forward. I shook my head. Not yet. I was predisposed to mistrust every new environment I was thrust inside, especially silent ones.

&nb
sp; Irritated, Thaddeus threw his hands down, palms open.

  I ignored him, scanning the nave—every shadow and every corner. I was raising my hand to the others to keep going when a shadow moved in my periphery.

  My eyes narrowed at the main exits.

  There you are.

  I pointed in the direction of the shadow. Vera frowned while Thaddeus folded his arms and mouthed the word, "Lucky."

  There was no way of knowing who was near the exits, but I doubted it was a cathedral guard. A guard wouldn't be so concerned with stealth. Whoever was in here with us didn't want us knowing they were here, and something told me it wasn't Drago Campinelli.

  Causing a distraction was useless. Our spy already knew our location. Still, I didn't feel comfortable stepping out into the open without knowing how many others were in here with us. Unfortunately, Thaddeus saved me from further introspection by waving his arm out from behind the large column. There was a series of soft clicks, air whizzed, and darts ricocheted off the marble wall behind him and clattered to the floor.

  I narrowed my eyes at him, but he only shrugged. And without another word, the three of us sprinted for the exit. Clicks and air whizzed as we ran. Ducking and leaping, pausing to hide behind columns. I dove, sliding across the floor on my stomach as a dart grazed my back, and then I launched myself up on my feet again, almost colliding with the shadow in front of me.

  I ducked as a sword sliced where my neck had been. I slipped around my assailant, jabbing my elbow hard into his spine. He cried out and staggered, and I drew my sword, ramming the hilt against his neck, rendering him unconscious. Vera and Thaddeus were engaging in battles of their own when another figure came up behind me. I stopped her arcing scimitar with my sword. She was strong for someone her size, but too wild. She raged at me and I kicked her hard in the gut, knocking the wind from her. She curled forward to catch her breath, and I grabbed her sword arm and broke it over my knee. She screamed in pain and collapsed, and as she fell I noticed the edge of a tattoo on her neck.