Breath of Dragons (A Pandoran Novel) (27 page)

I'd wanted to know if there was anything more to his gift, but I hadn't had the opportunity to ask him yet. And considering how it was coming up, I didn't know if I was so curious anymore.

He squeezed my hand, and continued. "There is an old story in the Arborenne of a young woman who fell in love with the king of the forest. He wasn't human; he was a spirit—the physical embodiment of the ancient magic that belongs to the Arborenne. He was its voice. He was in the rain. He was in the blossoms of spring and songs of the birds, but no one had ever seen him, not fully. They might have caught sight of a shadow, but he had made himself visible to no man, until one day…" He stared at the middle-distance, still holding my hand in his.

"A young girl sat at the edge of a pool. No one traveled to this particular pool, for it was very deep in the forest and the people were afraid to go too deeply into this particular forest alone—they were very superstitious, you know. But she was brave in her youth, and in a season of drought, she had traveled there to gather water for her family. She was a beautiful girl and a very special one because she had been touched by the spirits. The king of the forest saw her there beside the pool and he was instantly intrigued. Never had he seen such beauty in a human girl. Never had he seen such grace, and he had to talk to her. He had to know who she was.

"So he appeared to her. The girl, of course, was very startled and grew afraid. She was still quite young—not yet a woman, but soon—and ran home, leaving her pail behind. She told her family what she had seen and then her father set at once for the pool. There was no sign of the king of the forest, and no sign of the pail, either, but when the young girl woke the next morning, the pail was beside her bed and it was full of water.

"The girl didn't return to the pool, but she never forgot the man, and the king never forgot her. He watched her from the forest. He watched her from the blossoms of spring and the drifting leaves of fall. He watched her change as she grew in to a beautiful woman, and he continuously felt the need to protect her. And through the years, he'd grown to love her. He loved watching her, seeing her pure and kind heart as she helped those in her village, for she'd become adept in the arts of healing—as was her gift. Whenever he could, he would help her garden, open seeds, and enrich the soil. She never saw him, but he watched over her, patiently waiting for the day he could speak with her again.

"And that day came. Her father's health took her to the pool once more, where she searched for a certain kind of flower she knew could save him. The king of the forest appeared to her, but this time she was not afraid, for greater was the fear of her father's impending death. She explained the state of her father's health and what it was that she sought. The king was overjoyed that she had need of him and that there was something he could do to help this human girl he'd grown to love more than himself.

"But the king knew the father was beyond mortal help. What her father needed was a piece of the spirit. It was a piece the king could give, but it would cost him his human form. Even so, he would do anything for her, such was his love. He gave the girl instructions. Every day she was to come to the pool, and together they would plant a seed and cultivate the flower that would save her father's life. Together they would do this, until the next full moon when the flower bloomed, when she could take the petals, grind them in a mortar and make a tea that would secure her father to the mortal world.

"Every day she came, and every day they would tend to the small plant together. Though each day, the girl would stay longer and longer, talking with the king more and more, sharing her heart and her desires while the king listened intently, clinging to every word, for her voice was like life's blood. She would try to ask him about himself, but he would never answer her. He would say, 'The time will come very soon when I will tell you who I am.'"

Alex rubbed his thumb over my wrist.

"I must pause for a moment to tell you something about the Arborenne people. They do not wed as we wed. There are no engagements. No grand announcements or banquets. They mate and that is their partner for life. And this young woman had grown to love the king. He was handsome—there was no denying that—and his heart was gentler and more sincere than that of any man she'd ever met.

"The time came for the flower to bloom. The young woman should've been relieved, but she found she was sad. She had grown quite fond of this man and didn't want their time together to end. She was also anxious for him to finally tell her who he was. And so he did tell her. He told her that he was the king of the forest and that after that night, he would never be able to see her again.

"The girl was devastated. She realized what he had done for her, that he had sacrificed his human form in order to save her father. But—again, you must consider the culture of the Arborenne—there was no other man she would ever take, for she loved this king with all her heart. So their flesh became one that night, under the light of the moon. Afterward, the king presented her with a stone—a red stone. 'It is my blood,' he said to her, 'from deep inside the earth. It has bound our spirits as we have bound our flesh, and whatever happens in this mortal life, my spirit will always be with yours, for we are one for all eternity, my soul with yours, and neither life nor death can tear us apart. That is my promise.'

"And then, seeing that the girl could not bring herself to touch the flower they'd so carefully cultivated, he plucked it for her and his body vanished into thin air."

I regarded Alex a long, silent moment, waiting for him to continue, but he did not. "That's it?" I asked. "That's the end?"

He nodded, staring only at our hands.

"The stone you gave me…is it the same?" I asked.

"It isn't the exact one he had given her, but it is the same kind of stone. The stones exist only in the Arborenne and are very rare. I found yours in a stream, of all places, a few years back while I’d been traveling with my father through the Arborenne on business for the king. The clan we stayed with was very surprised I'd come across one. They told me the story then and I've loved it ever since."

"But how could you love something so tragic?" I asked.

"I don't…find it quite so tragic, Daria." He massaged my hand with his thumb again. "The woman gave birth to his child—a child with white hair and strangely purple eyes."

"Ehren," I whispered, and he nodded. Ehren was the champion who represented the Arborenne at the games. He'd had white hair and purple eyes.

"It was the beginning of the Arborenne race," Alex continued, "and it was said that the stone—the vitality stone—remained a place of warmth for her until the day she died. I knew I would give you that stone the moment I found it." He looked back at me and his eyes swallowed me whole. "That stone is a piece of my heart—it carries a piece of my soul, and it is a piece I give to you freely. It is a piece I want you to have, always, no matter what happens. But I won't take
this
from you." He squeezed my hand for emphasis. "Not when your fate is still so undecided. I will not dishonor you by being your lover."

I inhaled slowly, deeply, and with my free hand, I reached out and trailed my fingertips along his jaw, feeling the stubble. "I love you, Alexander Del Conte. Though sometimes I wish I'd fallen in love with a rebel instead of a gentleman," I teased, dropping my fingers. "It wouldn't be nearly so frustrating."

He lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the tips of my fingers. "Careful what you wish for, because if the day ever comes, you'll be lucky if I ever let you out of the bedroom."

My heart skipped a beat. "Don't say if," I whispered.

He held my gaze a moment and let go of my hand. "I need to let you rest."

I knew his words had more to do with us staying off of each other than my need to sleep. "I'll never sleep now. I'm going to be daydreaming about what would have happened if you hadn't stopped me."

"I already daydream about that." He grinned.

I grinned back, feeling my cheeks warm. "So speaks the gentleman."

He reached out and tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. "I never admitted to being perfect."

"No," I sighed. "But you are."

He shook his head as he stood, then grabbed my hand and pulled me to a stand. He let go of me, walked to my bed, and pulled back the covers, while I hurried behind my dressing screen and quickly changed into the shift Ansha had laid out. I tried not thinking about the fact that I was naked with Alex in my room.

"What about you?" I asked, stepping out from behind the screen in my shift.

"I'll stay on your couch until Vera comes back. I still need to place a ward over your balcony, anyway."

He watched me while I climbed into my bed. "You sure you won't sleep beside me?" I asked.

"You know I can't." He trailed the backs of his fingers along my cheek.

"I know. I just had to ask." I smiled, curling on my side but still looking up at him.

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek, letting his lips linger there a moment. "Someday…your grace," he whispered at my ear.

"Someday."

Chapter 14

A High Calling

I
was in Valdon. I only knew it was Valdon because of the mountains. It was a ridge I knew well because I had stared at it from the heights of my bedroom window every day for months. Otherwise, I would not have known it; the once beautiful land of lush greens and plunging waterfalls had transformed into a nuclear wasteland. It was barren and scorched, with great pines charred and broken, marring the hillsides like black stubble. Only pieces of the great wall surrounding the castle remained, like some somber memory of a dynasty lost. There was no marketplace. There were no people or horses or guards. And there was no castle.

In its place was a skeleton. Brittle bones of stone and broken turrets, as though the entire castle had been placed inside of a great smelter. Walls had melted and the turrets had been reduced to squat and blackened stumps, reminding me of burnt candles. The castle was a corpse left to rot as an example for all to see.

A cold wind stirred around me, filled with the putrid scent of death. "I could not have done this without you, Daria," said Eris, who stood beside me. Behind him was an army of shadowguard, blanketing the sterile landscape in black. And then the vision transformed.

It was a wedding—my wedding to Danton Pontefract. I stood beside him, dressed in a crimson gown while the curate spoke of our impending vows. It was almost time to say those little words that would seal my fate to his forever. I heard Danton say them aloud, happy to declare his devotion till death, and then the curate turned to me.

It was my turn.

Though my heart ached, my mind was resolute. This had to be done. This had to be done or those I loved would perish. This was my sacrifice.

The curate began speaking, though his words were suddenly drowned out by a voice that echoed in every facet of my mind.

In your hands rests the power to protect or destroy, Daria. It is your choice.

The curate finished, awaiting my reply. The audience was silent and the wind outside rattled against the stained-glass windows as if it were trying to break inside the cathedral and stop me.

My heart tore in half, and I said, "I do."

I bolted upright in a bed of pearlescent satin sheets, and the air smelled of lavender and rain. My room was dark, lit only by a solitary candle upon my nightstand. The pain in my chest was fresh, and I fisted the silk fabric of my gown, right over my heart. It was just a dream. It was just a dream.

Wasn't it?

I looked around my room. Alex lay on my couch near the glass doors, one arm bent behind his head and the other draped over his torso. His eyes were closed and his dark lashes rested upon his cheekbones, ankles crossed over the armrest. He looked so peaceful lying there. There was no sign of Vera; she must have stayed elsewhere. Distant thunder rumbled and a cool breeze slipped over my skin right as I heard the first whispers of falling rain. That's when I noticed that one of my glass doors was cracked open.

That couldn't be right. Alex had said he meant to put a ward over my doors; I doubted he'd intended to leave one open. Hesitant, I pushed my senses beyond, searching for any signs of life inside of my room other than Alex and myself, but there was nothing. I pressed my senses farther out onto my balcony. Still, nothing.

Unease pricked my skin. The world beyond was black and my porch was veiled in shadow. I pushed back my covers, slid out of bed, and slipped into my cloak that had been carefully laid across the foot of my bed. Alex must have done that after I'd fallen asleep.

Memories of our last kiss weren't far from my thoughts.

The stone floor felt cool on my bare feet as I padded my way over to the door, slow and cautious. I'd expected my movement to wake Alex, but he only shifted his head a little, adjusting it in the fold of his arm. I stopped at the wall beside the doors and craned my neck to peer outside.

My eyes swept the shadows, looking for the slightest movement—anything. The wind blew again, rustling the leaves of the giant fern, and the open door swung a little on its hinge without sound.

There was a sudden whoosh of air, a soft percussive beat, and then a small dark shadow landed on the railing of my porch. Startled, I ducked back behind the wall, heart thumping in my chest. I held my breath and put my hand over my heart as I peered back. It was a bird—a large, black raven.

You face gargons and dragons and giants, and you're almost taken out by a bird.

I took a slow, steadying breath to calm myself. The black bird sat there, twitching its head from side to side, eerie red eyes glowing in the night, and it had something in its talons.

A white scroll.

Curious, I pushed the door open a bit wider so that I could slip through. I'd expected the raven to fly away from me, but it didn't. It just sat there, eyeing me with those blood-red eyes. I held my robe tightly against the wind and drizzle and stepped toward the raven while trying to steady my feet upon the slick stone. I noticed a shimmer on its breast, like it had been branded with silver: the symbol of the elongated diamond with a vertical line through the center that I had seen on Vera's wrist and on the shortcut. I wondered who this messenger raven belonged to, and I thought my answer was probably inside of that scroll. Slowly, I reached my fingers towards the bird's talons. Just…a little…closer…