Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (12 page)

"Uh, that's not good," Thaddeus said from the back.

"When did he make the call?" I asked.

"Yesterday, I believe," Drago said. "We have strict orders not to close the portals until the people are through, so that'll be at least a few more weeks."

"Even though the enemy's come through?" Vera asked.

"I'll notify the president, but I don't believe we can cut off the people of Gaia because of the actions of a dozen," Drago said. "Obviously, we'll need reinforcements on this side, but right now the plan is to watch the portals for emigrants and take them to a designated sanctuary, where we can begin the process of assimilating them into our world."

My mind whirled with this new information. I was no longer just racing against Daria's wedding and Eris. Now I had the portals to contend with. I had to set things right before Earth attempted to destroy the portals, and I felt the urgency to get to Yosemite even more. Hopefully, Clara was all right.

Drago's eyes flickered over to me. "He really is back, isn't he?" Drago's voice was low—fearful, even. "Lord Eris?"

I pinched my lips together. "Yes. Did my mother tell you about Prince Alaric?"

His nod was solemn.

"And did she also mention there are ten thousand shadowguard at Castle Regius's walls?"

Drago's exhale came with a soft whistle. "No, we got cut off." He paused, shaking his head in disbelief. "Ten thousand. How are there so many?"

"We believe Eris has been using dark magic to fabricate the extra bodies. Not all of them are Morts. We encountered some of his fabrications during the games. When they're struck with a fatal blow, they shatter like glass."

Drago's brow furrowed. "But they fight?"

"
Well
," I said. "And their weapons are poisoned like the old shadowguard, back when it was just comprised of Morts and led by the dark rider."

"Ten. Thousand," Drago whispered. "Gaia have mercy."

"Sounds like Gaia's mercy comes with a primo evacuation plan," Thaddeus added.

I looked back at Drago. "We're here because we need to get to the States."

"To meet with the president?" he asked.

"No, to get to Yosemite."

"Ah, right." He sped around a roundabout. "Give your father a nice, hard smack for me."

"My father's still in Valdon," I said.

Drago looked confused, and then fear bloomed inside of me. "Drago, did the president say he'd spoken with my father?"

"Not
technically
, I guess. Just that he'd already spoken with the other aegises at the other portals, and I was the last." A pause. "Maybe he spoke to Clara, then," he said.

"Maybe," I said, though my fear intensified. Clara would've told the president my parents were still on Gaia and she'd need help. There wasn't much she could do about Operation Ark, being that her role was namely to keep my family's house—and a younger me—in order, and I doubted the president would leave Yosemite's portal unattended. Maybe the president had been in a hurry relaying his message to Drago and simply hadn't bothered Drago with the details. I hoped that was the case, because the other alternative was he'd spoken to someone pretending to be an aegis in Yosemite. And Clara would've been there, alone and vulnerable…

"You came directly from Pendel, then?" Drago asked.

I nodded.

"You're certain you want to return through the Room of Doors?" he asked. "If there are as many shadowguard as you say, that portal won't be safe for you."

"Outside of it, no, but only a dozen shadowguard could actually fit in that room. I'll take my chances."

Drago didn't look as if he agreed with my logic, but he kept his thoughts to himself. "You need passports?"

"Yes, and we need to figure out the best way to take our weapons."

He flexed his hands over the steering wheel. "I suppose they won't let you take those on board with you, and it probably isn't the best idea to check them. You've got a lot of rare weaponry between the three of you, and you don't want to risk getting hung up in security on either end. Tell you what—there's a FedEx near the airport we can use. I've got a friend there—someone we can trust. He'll make sure they arrive before you do. I ship all my rare collectables through him. We'll have to stop by my place first to get you the passports, though. I've got my own small assimilation station set up there. Don't worry…it's not far from here."

"Great. Thanks," I said.

Drago turned down a narrow side street. The buildings were crammed together as one façade and covered in a green blanket of ivy. Flowers filled the boxes hanging from windowsills, and the rising sun set fire to the roofs of the taller buildings.

"So, uh, Prego…" Thaddeus started.

"
Drago
." Drago corrected.

"How long have you…" Thaddeus's voice trailed when Drago pressed a button near the center consol, and one of the graffitied garage doors tilted outward.

Thaddeus gasped. "I thought Earth didn't have magic! How is that not magic?"

Drago laughed, turning his car into the open garage. It was completely bare, save a small door in back. "It's something called electricity, which can easily be mistaken for magic."

"Electricity," Thaddeus repeated. "Wait, I think I've heard of that."

Vera snorted.

"No, really," Thaddeus continued. "It has something to do with energy being transferred through these really small particle…things…I can't remember, exactly. Electro trons, I think…?"

I sighed. "Electrons."

"Yeah, that's it. Electrons. And now that you mention it, I think I studied this when I was trying to understand how in the world the Earthlings lived without magic."

I looked back at Thaddeus and chuckled. "Earthlings?"

"It's their own form of magic, I guess," Drago said. "It was strange to me, too, the first time I came to Earth, but I'm used to it now. I've always wondered why Gaia didn't adopt some of the conveniences of electricity, but then again, I expect they're so comfortable with magic they don't really need it, so why bother?" Drago shrugged as he parked and killed the engine. The silence seemed unusually quiet after listening to the constant roar of the Ferrari. Drago pressed another button and the hardtop retracted.

"Hellfire," Thaddeus cursed, crouching lower and glaring up at the retracting roof as if it were going to eat him alive. "I definitely prefer magic."

"That's only because magic is all you know," Drago said, opening his door. "People tend to fear things that are new and foreign to them."

I opened my car door and stepped out, careful not to hit the door against the wall, and then I leaned back to look at the Ferrari. It was a gorgeous car, a modern masterpiece. Sleek body with glossy black paint and hand-stitched red leather interior. The leather dashboard was equipped with top-of-the-line technology: temperature control, Bluetooth audio, GPS, automatic parking, and three-hundred–and-sixty-degree camera views—all accessible via touchscreen control. Of course, the exterior paint had been chipped from the darts and there was a web of scrapes along the door where I'd rammed it into the cyclist. There was also a dent in the roof where the baton had struck.

"Drago…I'm so sorry about this," I said. "Is there anything I can do to—"

"Bah!" He batted a hand at the air. "Battle wounds, is all. They heal. I've got a great mechanic, besides, and those wounds were worth every moment." He winked. He looked about my father's age and was a decent-looking man, except years of inactivity had made Drago a fair bit softer. His height helped conceal this, and he still carried himself with the confidence and grace of an aegis. Despite his militant crew cut, his eyes were friendly and he had deep smile lines on his face.

The trunk clicked shut, hiding the collapsed roof from view, and Vera leaned back to stretch.

"How's your ankle?" Thaddeus asked her.

She fixed him with a glare as she lifted her legs from his lap.

"You know, admitting pain isn't a weakness," he said. "Gaia forbid should you have any of those."

"I'm fine," she snapped.

"
Fine
." Thaddeus smirked. "You could've had your whole foot ripped off and you'd still say you're fine."

She grunted, placing her hands on the leather to push herself up. I leaned my passenger seat forward and tried helping her out of the car, but she'd have none of it.

Thaddeus climbed out of the car. "Prego…"

Drago rolled his eyes.

"You said this is a…Ferrari?" Thaddeus asked, walking gingerly around the car as if it were some wild beast that might strike any second.

Drago smiled. "She's beautiful, isn't she? Elegant and deadly."

"Elegant and deadly," Thaddeus repeated. "Hey, V, I think we found your Earthling doppleganger."

By the look on Vera's face, I thought Thaddeus should be more concerned about Vera than the Ferrari.

"It's a car, Thaddeus," I said.

Thaddeus's face expanded with dawning realization. "Ah, that's right! I've read about these…horseless carriages."

"Yes, but as you can see, I didn't completely leave my past behind." Drago touched the black horse logo on the trunk. "They call her the prancing horse; I call it fate. So, I named her Equuleus after the horse I had when I lived on Gaia."

Thaddeus leaned over to look at the dash. "But they require some kind of potion to run, don't they?"

"You could call it that, but it's technically called gasoline."

"Gasoline," Thaddeus repeated, intrigued.

Drago nodded. "It's made from oil that naturally exists deep underground, and they refine it through the processes of distillation and—"

"Drago, I'm sorry to interrupt," I said, "but maybe you and Thaddeus can talk about this later?" I looked pointedly at Thaddeus.

Thaddeus rolled his eyes at me. "I should've nicknamed you Del Killjoy."

Drago walked to the back door, where Vera stood, waiting, and thoroughly annoyed. Drago took out a key and unlocked the door. "A lady who isn't impressed by a Ferrari?"

Vera's eyes narrowed. "I'm not a lady."

"She's right. She's not," Thaddeus agreed, and Vera glowered at him. "What? Did you want me to start calling you Lady Vera, then? I can if you want."

"What I
want
is for you to stop talking, but I don't think that's ever going to happen."

Drago and I exchanged a glance, and then Drago opened the door to a sidewalk and grass beyond. "My apartment is just this way…"

"—kill you to be nice, for a change," Thaddeus was saying.

I ducked outside after Drago. There was a narrow plot of grass between two apartment buildings with a single sidewalk running through the center that branched off to different doorways. Thaddeus and Vera's voices followed, and once they'd stepped outside, Drago closed and locked the door.

"You like me. Admit it." Thaddeus pointed at her scowling face.

Vera rolled her eyes with a grunt and batted his finger away, and then she stormed past me. I caught Thaddeus's gaze, and he smirked, looking triumphant. "She likes me."

I pinched my lips together and kept walking.

Drago's apartment turned out to be at the end of the sidewalk, through a door and up a flight of stairs. It took a moment to get through the door because Thaddeus was captivated with a panel of buttons on the outside wall. He pressed one, a buzzer sounded, and he jumped back, clutching his chest.

"Thaddeus."

He followed. Right after he buzzed one more button.

The inside of Drago's apartment was much more contemporary than I'd expected, judging by the building's old and wrinkled façade. Everything was neat and symmetrical, a modern blend of glass and metal and leather and artfully placed LED lighting. He hung the keys to his Ferrari on a small hook near the front door. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Thaddeus had already made himself comfortable. He sat upon a black leather couch that was all squares and ninety-degree angles, and he picked up a car magazine from the glass and welded metal coffee table. He started flipping through the pages, his eyes wide and enthralled. Vera stood as far from Thaddeus as possible, which ended up being against a wall to glare out the window. It did seem that her ankle was better, though. She hadn't limped up the stairs and she wasn't favoring one foot.

"Would any of you like some espresso or wine?" Drago stepped into his kitchen, fumbled with a canister, and then set a percolator on the stove. "Water, even?"

Thaddeus and Vera didn't respond, too preoccupied with their separate tasks. At least they'd stopped bickering. They'd been arguing a lot, lately—even for them.

"No, thank you," I said, glancing around at the artwork on the walls. They were all architectural sketches of various buildings and bridges around this world. There was even a sketch of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"I do not envy you," Drago said, glancing at me over his shoulder. "The life of an aegis never allows for much rest and relaxation."

"Is that why you quit and resigned yourself to border patrol?" I asked.

Drago adjusted the heat on the stove. "You never really quit being an aegis." He nodded toward a narrow door in the far corner of the room. "Open it."

I did. What had once been an enormous walk-in closet had since been transformed into a shrine of Gaian weapons. Swords, battleaxes, maces, bows, arrows, armor—all arranged with reverence and a methodical mind. I wondered if this was also where my two-handed greatsword had come from. I looked over my shoulder at him and raised a brow. "I guess not."

He smiled, then walked back into the living room and sat in the chair before his glass computer desk where two large monitors sat side by side. Instead of facing the desk, he spun the chair around to face us. He folded his hands in his lap, and the look on his face was solemn. "Please tell me…how did Prince Alaric die?"

Vera looked over from her window. Thaddeus shifted on the couch and stared down at the floor. I took my seat on the couch beside Thaddeus and crossed my ankle over my knee. "He was killed by his brother about two weeks ago, inside the castle." Had it really only been two weeks? So much had happened since, it was hard to believe. "I was…there when it happened. They tried reviving him, but…Eris's magic was too much. It killed him on impact."