Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (11 page)

"The way I see it," I continued, "with me married to your son, the throne is salvageable. I already know Gesh and Pendel are en route to Castle Regius, but what we need is time. So, Lord Pontefract, what it boils down to is this: Which type of world do you want to live in? One ruled by fear, or one ruled by love and devotion? Because I promise you Prince Stefan will rule by the latter, just as my father would have done.

"If you honor your pledge to King Darius, I
will
stay here and I
will
be a wife to your son. I will do everything in my power to bring honor to your family and to Orindor so it will be held in the highest esteem of all the territories. I swear to you on my life. My father trusted you, Lord Pontefract, and my father didn't trust many—you know that. Where is
that
man? I entreat
him
to consider everything I've just said."

The disdain in Lord Pontefract's eyes made me certain I'd just signed my death warrant. I really couldn't trust my tongue to stay behind bars, and because of that unfortunate malady, I may have just made things worse. Worse than worse: irreparable.

Lord Pontefract drummed fingers on the table as he watched me, and when he finally spoke, his tone was even and quiet. "I'd had my doubts, but you are a Regius through and through."

I wasn't sure what this meant, and it didn't exactly sound like a compliment.

"When would you have me send my men?" he asked, watching me through narrowed eyes.

It took me a moment to process his question. He was…he agreed? After all that? Had I heard him correctly? I glanced at Danton, who looked at his father as though he'd just sprouted a second head.

I came back to my senses. "Today."

"Impossible. Two days."

"My lord, in two days—"

"Two days is hopeful, at best," he cut me off. "I expect you are not altogether familiar with what goes into preparing an army to march across the territories, and it will be nothing short of a miracle if I can manage it in two." He stopped drumming his fingers. "We should arrive in Valdon in one week's time—"

"One
week
?! But—"

"
If
you wanted my help sooner, your highness, perhaps you should've agreed to this proposal when it was first made instead of running off to the other side of the globe with your aegis."

All implications were duly felt. I swallowed. "Of course. You're right, my lord. I should've come sooner. If two days is the best you can do, then I'm grateful for that."

Lord Pontefract eyed me a moment, then snapped his fingers in the air. This time, a man who had been standing near the door approached. He was clad all in black like an assassin, and a greatsword hung from his belt. He stopped beside our table and bowed.

"My lord." The man spoke in a rich voice and waited expectantly.

"Aegis Kane, find Sir Dunmore and tell him to see me immediately."

Ah, an aegis. No wonder he was dressed like that. My thoughts went to Alex, and I made myself reel them back to the table.

"Yes, my lord. Will that be all?"

Lord Pontefract eyed me, tapping his forefinger on his narrow chin. "While you're at it, fetch Lady Pontefract and instruct her to alert the staff to start preparations for an engagement banquet tomorrow evening. I will visit her chambers in a few hours so we may discuss the details."

There was a Lady Pontefract? I mean, I knew Danton had a mother, but no one had ever mentioned her before. I wondered what sort of person she was. I'd probably find out soon enough.

"Yes, my lord," Aegis Kane said.

"Thank you, Aegis Kane. That will be all." Lord Pontefract waved his hand dismissively, and, with a bow of his head, Aegis Kane left.

The door closed and Lord Pontefract stood, placing his palms flat on the table. "Danton, escort Her Highness back to her chambers and return here with Lord Justine and Lady Isla."

"Yes, Father." Danton sounded a little mystified. He stepped behind his father and over to me.

"Come to think of it"—Lord Pontefract looked back at me—"where is Her Highness staying currently?"

"In the Garnet suite."

"You will move her to the Dragonstone suite."

"That's where Lord Justine and Lady Isla are staying."

"So move them." Lord Pontefract lifted the decanter and poured himself another glass.

Danton paused near my chair, but I interceded before he could respond. "He already tried, my lord, but I told him I'll wait until after they return to Campagna."

"That is not your decision, your highness." Lord Pontefract held up the glass to the light, gazing at the amber liquid. "Have them moved to the Amber suite immediately. The princess will be staying in the Dragonstone suite from tonight until you're wed."

I started to say something else, but Danton squeezed my shoulders as if silently urging me to keep quiet. It didn't need to be voiced that I'd gone as far as I could go.

"I'll handle it. Is there anything else?" Danton's voice was perfectly neutral, formal as he waited for further direction from his father.

Lord Pontefract took a swig from his glass then looked between us, a smile curling his thin lips. "No, I believe you have your hands full enough as it is."

7

ALEXANDER

"T
here is no way I'm getting in that!" Thaddeus yelled.

"Hurry!" the man yelled.

"I'd rather take my chances with the—" Another volley of darts cut him off. We dodged as darts whizzed overhead and plunked against the Ferrari's side panel before ricocheting onto the ground.

"Bloody devils!" The man had his hands over his head. "Get in or I'm leaving you here!"

"Okay, okay!" Thaddeus yelled. "But how—"

"You two jump in back!" I pointed to the two red-leather bucket seats. Vera hopped in as she winced, and Thaddeus climbed in after her. I leapt into the front passenger seat.

Vera and Thaddeus were still figuring out where to put their legs when the man yelled, "Stay low and hold on!" He pressed a button on the dash, the trunk opened, and a roof rose from it.

"Gah!" Thaddeus shrieked, folding his hands over his head. "This thing is trying to eat me!"

The closest Mort was about ten yards away.

Five yards…four yards…

The roof clicked shut, our driver stepped on the clutch, put the car in gear, and floored the gas.

More darts. More ricocheting.

"Hellfire!" Thaddeus said. "Knock it off!"

Two yards. The Mort in front lifted an axe over his head…

"Hurry!" I yelled.

"I know!" the man yelled back. Wheels squealed upon the slick cobblestone, the axe came down, and we sped off. The axe hit the cobblestones with a clank, emitting a spark. A few Morts skidded to a stop beside axe man, glaring after us, but then the loud blare of sirens broke their attention and they scattered.

"Drago Campinelli," the man shouted over the revving engine, tapping the paddleshifter on the steering wheel.

"Alexander Del Conte," I said, looking back at the road.

"Pleasure."

"Perfect timing," I added.

"Always." Drago jerked the car around a sharp corner and almost took out a couple of pedestrians. Then a foot kicked me in the head.

"Sorry," Thaddeus said. "There's not exactly any room back here…"

"Sorry about that," Drago said, expertly navigating through the narrow streets and sharp turns of Rome. "I don't usually get so much company at once."

I looked over my shoulder to find Thaddeus and Vera with their legs in each other's laps. "How's your ankle?" I asked Vera.

"Fine," she clipped.

Thaddeus grabbed her foot and moved it, and Vera cried out. And then she kicked Thaddeus in the face with her other foot.

"Hey!" Thaddeus ducked, then his head rammed into my headrest, and I was instantly thrown against the dash as Drago slammed on the brakes, narrowly avoiding a taxi running a red light. I flattened my palms on the dash, bracing myself, while heavy thuds and sharp curses erupted behind me.

Drago rolled down his window and yelled something in Italian, holding his fist out the window at the taxi. He was still yelling as he peeled through the intersection. And then, in a light, conversational tone, he asked, "Who are your friends?"

I pulled one hand from the dash and settled back in my seat. "Aegises Thaddeus Mendax and Veranna Neci."

"Nice to meet you," Drago said, then jerked the car right, speeding over a bridge.

"What is this…
thing
?" Thaddeus asked, hunched over in the backseat and rubbing his head.

Drago beamed like a proud parent. "
This
is a Ferrari." He rolled his Rs when he said it, stroking the dash as one might stroke a cat. The engine purred in response.

"Yeah…that doesn't tell me anything," Thaddeus murmured. "And is there a reason we're going so"—Drago sped over a bump and we all bounced out of our seats; Thaddeus and Vera hit their heads on the roof—"
ow
!—fast?"

"Making sure we're not followed," Drago said, checking his side-mirror.

"Followed?!" Thaddeus gasped. "Who in Gaia's name could follow us in this thing?"

"
Ferrari
," Drago corrected.

"Drago, did you know there were Morts on this side of the portal?" I asked.

"No, but—" Drago's eyes squinted in his side-mirror, and then I noticed lights in mine, weaving in and out of traffic—fast. Drago frowned. "Hang on," he said, shifting gears.

The high-pitched whine of bikes was undeniable now. They hopped up on sidewalks, blazing past pedestrians, who frantically moved out of the way. Drago maneuvered through the streets, on sidewalks and down alleyways, weaving through traffic and triple-parked cars. I braced my hands on the door and dash, certain we were going to die.

More sirens wailed in the distance.

Thaddeus yelped. "That noise! What is that noise?"

"Polizia." Drago raced down a long stretch of cobblestone. Cars and people and buildings blurred past.

"Pizza?" Thaddeus asked.

"Not pizza, you idiot," Vera hissed behind me. "Po-lee-tsee-ah."

I had no idea how Drago was navigating at these speeds, but no matter where he went, the motorcycles followed. Drago's eyes narrowed on his rearview, and a loud bang sounded behind me.

One of the motorcyclists appeared alongside my door, his front wheel level with my window. He raised a baton to strike again.

Drago swerved away but the motorcyclist swerved with us. The motorcyclist brought down the baton, and I shoved my door open. My door hit the front wheel of the motorcyclist, knocking him off balance. The bike swerved out of control, spun out from beneath its rider, and then crashed into a sidewalk vender roasting chestnuts.

Drago nodded at me then said, "Take the wheel."

"Take the wheel?" Thaddeus emphasized each word, utterly confounded.

Drago released the steering wheel to grab something wedged between his door and seat, and I took the wheel. Drago pulled out a small crossbow.

"Where am I going?" I asked.

"Anywhere! Just don't hit anyone…" Drago rolled down his window and leaned out with his crossbow, aiming behind us. There was a series of clicks, followed by distant popping, and Drago cheered. I wanted to look back, but it took all my attention to focus on the road. Drago hadn't eased the pedal in the slightest. In fact, I was pretty sure we were going faster.

"Got 'em!" Drago leaned back in the car, dropped the crossbow in his lap, and resumed control of the steering wheel with a childlike grin on his face. "I haven't felt this good in years!"

Drago jerked us hard, away from a merchant stand full of scarves. I wasn't normally prone to motion sickness, but this was making a convert out of me. Finally, Drago slowed to a speed that made me less certain we were going to die, and the buildings began to assume a defined shape once again.

There were a few moments of relieved quiet, and then Thaddeus mumbled, "Whoa." This exclamation was followed by an, "Ow!"

Vera had whacked him with her heel.

But I saw what had caught his attention: the Colosseum.

The rows of arches were illuminated, showcasing the perfect and layered symmetry of the ancient marvel. It looked so out of place, this iconic symbol of Ancient Rome, standing right up against a street lined with parked cars. Drago drove around the Colosseum, made a very quick left, and another quick right into an alleyway. He turned down a ramp I didn't know was there until we were driving down it, and then into a tunnel of some sort. The engine roared in the tight space before we were dumped back out on a street again. I noticed the sky was beginning to lighten with the rising sun.

"So you don't know when the Morts arrived," I said, "but you knew when we came through…?"

"Yes, and that's the thing," Drago continued, easing us down another street. "I go to the basilica every week for mass to check on the entrance—old habits, you know. And I haven't felt any magic. You know the fields aren't very strong on this side, but I can still feel them when people pass through, even if my alarms fail."

"Your alarms didn't detect them, then?"

He shook his head. "And they detected the three of you. Were they waiting for you?"

I hesitated. It seemed likely, though I wasn't sure how they would've known I'd come here. I hadn't known myself until yesterday. Perhaps Eris had anticipated I'd try to use Karth's portal to get to Earth, and then that train of thought made me wonder what else Eris may have anticipated. "I don't know," I replied. "I take it you haven't heard anything from the aegises stationed at the other portals?"

"No, but I
have
been debriefed to implement Operation Ark by the President of the United States."

My jaw fell open. "What?"

Drago glanced sideways at me, confused. "They still train you about that at the Academia, don't they?"

"Yes, I know what it is…who initiated it?"

"I believe it was Prince Stefan."

I raked a hand through my hair. Operation Ark was a measure in the Magical Pact existing between Earth and Gaia. It had been created so that in the event of a severe catastrophe, the people of Gaia could be evacuated to Earth, and then Earth would blow up its portals. No one knew if this would effectively sever the ties between worlds, but it sounded as if we'd find out soon enough.