Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (25 page)

"What an endearing sentiment," said a new voice. "Unfortunately, it's come much too late."

We all turned to see my uncle, Eris, standing in the doorway. He looked like Death come to collect his due. His eyes were cold and empty—so unlike my father's blue—and his thin mouth twisted in cruelty.

"Arrest him!" I yelled.

No one moved.

Bewildered, I glanced back at my men. Aegis Garrix stood behind Sir Armand de Basco, holding a knife against his neck, and Aegis Han and Aegis Berro held crossbows armed with shadowguard bolts aimed at Aegises Cicero del Conte and Brant Jos. Only one of my men remained true, but he had his hands raised in surrender while his fellow Aegises aimed more bolts at my grandfather and me. Headmaster Ambrose stood just as he'd stood before: indifferent and unaffected. There weren't any weapons fixed upon him.

"I might consider getting rid of that." Eris looked pointedly at the ball of fire in my grandfather's hands.

My grandfather hesitated, and suddenly a ring of pressure squeezed around my throat. I gasped and choked, clawing at my throat as I struggled to breathe.

"Leave him out of this, Eris." My grandfather's voice could've melted steel. "Your quarrel is with me."

"Then you'll do as I say," Eris said.

I grunted and gasped, and my grandfather clenched his fist. The ball of fire vanished into thin air.

Eris smiled as one brow slid up so far it almost touched his hairline. "There, that wasn't so hard."

My grandfather might have extinguished the fire in his palm, but a new fire burned behind his eyes. The pressure around my throat released, and I fell forward with my hands on my knees, heaving. Aegis Del Conte started toward me, but the warning click of a crossbow moved him back in place.

Eris strode into the room as if he owned the world. "Headmaster Ambrose, good to see you." Headmaster Ambrose bowed his head in deference while Eris admired his plunder. "Your council hasn't changed much over the years, Father, though I spot a few new faces." Eris looked over Aegises Brant Jos and Phin Reid. "Armand de Basco. I thought I saw you out there among your men. I heard you inherited your father's station. Good, good. And Cicero…" Eris stood before Aegis Del Conte with a malign smile. "It is so good to see you again."

Aegis Del Conte's neck and face filled with blood, his gaze dark and lethal. I could almost see their difficult past, as if their history were some substantial thing igniting the space between them. Eris's smile widened, and then he moved to stand before me.

"You've grown, Nephew. Last time I saw you, you were drooling all over the precious Arborennian rugs in your mother's parlor."

"Get away from him," growled my grandfather before I could utter a word.

Eris glanced sideways at my grandfather. "You always were a possessive one, weren't you? Never for me, though, if I recall."

Grandfather's eyes narrowed. "What do you want, Eris?"

"Come, Father. You should know better than to ask questions you already know the answers to." Eris moved to stand before his father. "All I want—all I've ever wanted—is your throne."

It happened fast—so fast that even after it'd happened, I stood dumbfounded, trying to make sense of why my grandfather was lying on the floor with the hilt of a knife protruding from his chest. A well of despair filled my chest as the knowledge of what had just happened began taking shape. Eris had just shoved a knife through my grandfather's heart.

"No…" I watched in horror as my grandfather gasped and gurgled, blood oozing into his grey cloak, turning it black. No, no, no, no…

Eris bent over my grandfather and placed a hand on his pale cheek.

"Don't touch him!" I cried.

Eris ignored me, eyes locked on my grandfather's. "I'll never forgive you for what you did to Aurora, and I hope you burn in the fires of Mortis for all eternity."

Grandfather's pale eyes widened as he gurgled, and then his body went still. His blue eyes stared straight up at nothing, vacant as his life leaked red onto the stone floor.

"No…" My chest heaved with quick breaths as I stared at the body of a man who was no longer there. I couldn't seem to move my feet.

Eris pulled the blade and wiped it on my grandfather's cloak.

"You…" My voice trembled. "You murdered…"

"There's been a change in leadership," Eris said, coming to a stand. "And as the new king of Gaia, you'll swear service to me or die. I prefer keeping things simple." He walked over to me with a frown, and then in one swift motion, he rammed his blade into my chest.

There was a second where I stared into his cold blue eyes, startled. I glanced down at the hilt sticking out of my chest but I didn't feel it, as though my mind existed elsewhere and I was watching this from afar. And then the pain exploded.

It felt as though someone had punched a hole through my chest. The pain was so acute, so crippling I couldn't even scream. I was aware of myself falling as my vision darkened. I felt a wave of heat, followed by sudden cold as my consciousness drifted farther and farther away from me.

"It's nothing personal, Stefan," Eris said from somewhere far away. "I can't have anyone contesting my rule. Surely you understand."

14

DARIA

I
sla stabbed me through the heart.

I staggered back into Danton, the cold metal feeling strange in my chest. My pulse beat erratic and frantic, pounding against the foreign object as if it were trying to hammer it back out of me. Fuzzy stars pocked my vision and the music and chatter blurred, distorting into dissonant crescendos accented by sharp points of laughter. I was dying, I could feel the blood leaking out of me with each pulse. I glanced down so I could see the knife with my own eyes…but there was nothing there. No hilt, no metal. No blood—not even a scratch. My chest was completely and utterly unharmed. In fact, the pain was starting to subside now, and my vision and hearing were slowly coming back to me.

"Daria…?" Danton sounded panicked as he squeezed up and down my arms. "What's the matter?"

"I don't…" I was distantly aware of people watching us, Isla included. I looked at her, wondering if this was some sort of strange magic of hers, but when I reached out with my senses, she felt just as bewildered as I did. No, I didn't think she'd done anything, but I had a sudden and overwhelming fear I couldn't explain.

Danton wrapped his arm around my shoulders and escorted me through the guests. Eyes and whispers followed us, but my mind went elsewhere. A blast of wintry air slammed into me, and within seconds the music and chatter of the ballroom muted as though someone had shoved cotton in my ears. Danton helped me sit, and then he gently pushed my head down so it rested between my knees, right in the dip of my skirt. He thought I was going to pass out. Maybe I should. Then I could go back to my room and sort this out. A horrible truth marched around proudly, right at the edges of my consciousness, but every time I reached out to get a good look, it turned its back on me and marched in the other direction.

"Deep, slow breaths," Danton said beside me.

I trembled violently, but that wasn't because of the cold. A dull ache still throbbed in my chest where I'd been so certain I'd been stabbed. After a few more moments, I lifted my head and opened my eyes. We were outside on one of the ballroom's verandas, alone. Wind nearly drowned out the faint music and chatter, making them sound like a sad and distant memory. A rectangle of light bled from the glass doors of the ballroom, stretching over us and out into the dark gardens beyond, where it gilded the crowns of the foremost hedges. Danton crouched at my feet and stared up into my face. To say he looked concerned was a massive understatement.

He placed a hand on my forehead and frowned. "You're burning up. Let me take you back to your rooms. I'm sure Father will understand."

He thought I was sick. I wasn't sure what this was, but it wasn't a sickness. I felt as if I'd just experienced someone else's death.

Danton brushed the hair from my forehead. "Was it Isla?"

I shook my head. "I don't think so. I don't know…"

Danton unclasped his cape and draped it over my shoulders, then brushed his fingertips against my cheek. "May I get you something?" he asked. "A glass of water, perhaps?"

I didn't need a glass of water, but a few moments alone would be nice. "Sure. Thanks."

"You'll be all right here by yourself for a few moments?"

I nodded.

He studied my face a moment more, and then rose. "I'll be right back."

Voices and music crescendoed then faded as the glass door shut behind him. The wind howled in the black night, and I shivered, pulling Danton's cape close. The silk lining felt slippery and cold against my bare shoulders, but at least it kept the icy wind off my skin. I bounced my knees as I sat there, unable to hold still, and when that wasn't enough, I got up and walked over to the balustrade. Light snow began falling, dusting Danton's cape with flecks of white. I didn't like wearing Danton's cape because it made me feel as if I was wrapped up in him. As if this cape were a flag claiming me as his property.

His scent clung to the fabric, some heady mixture of cologne and soap, so no matter where my mind went, the smell of him remained in the background. I sighed and leaned against the railing. Danton wouldn't leave me alone even when he wasn't here. And then I heard voices in the gardens below.

I dismissed them, thinking they belonged to a couple who'd snuck away for some privacy. It had certainly been done before. I was moving back to my seat when I heard, "…now that Darius is dead."

I stopped, feet frozen to the veranda floor.

"Wish I could've seen it," said a man's voice. I slipped into the shadows so I could listen. "He got the prince, too?"

"Yeah," replied the first man. "Surprised them right in the middle of a council meeting, and stabbed them both through the heart, far as I know."

Wait.

Waitwaitwaitwaitwait.

What?

That couldn't be right. The shadowguard hadn't attacked yet, and if they had, Danton would've told me.

Wouldn't he?

I wasn't so sure anymore, considering how he'd been acting this evening. Had he known? Is that what his father had pulled him aside to tell him? Is that why he'd been acting so distant, because he knew I'd be able to
feel
something was off? My heart beat faster.

"What about the rest of them?" asked the second.

"Most of them had turned already. They've just been waiting for him to give the signal. The rest have turned now too, or they're dead."

My world tilted and I placed my hand against the wall, bracing myself. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be.

But I'd felt my father's death.

I'd felt the very moment his heart had stopped in that hall. Could my Pandoran senses and relationship to Stefan allow me to feel my brother's death hundreds of miles away? I glanced down at my chest, my breath suddenly coming in quick, shallow gasps. With each passing second, I grew more and more horrified, certain it was true: I
had
felt Stefan's death, just as I'd felt my father's. And this was the reason for the Pontefract men's silent discomfort, because when I'd made the comment about Carter being my brother here, they'd all known I wasn't going to have my real brother anymore. My hand fisted upon the wall.

"…the princess?" the other man asked.

"Not sure," the first man replied. "They say she doesn't have any magic, so she's not really an immediate threat."

"But she's an heir. You think Lord Eris will let her live?"

"He's
King
Eris, now. I think he'll let her live if she turns, but everyone says she's a stubborn little bitch."

"She's Lord Danton's little bitch now."

"One of many," said the first, and they both laughed, their laughter floating farther and farther away until I couldn't hear them anymore.

My body suddenly felt too heavy, and I slid down the wall and slumped onto the veranda floor. Which was how Danton found me.

"Ah, there you are. Here, I brought you…Daria?"

I swallowed hard, staring at nothing. "Is my brother dead?" My voice cracked on that last word.

Danton stopped in his tracks.

I snapped my head up and glared straight at him. "Is. My. Brother. Dead?"

He didn't move. He just stood there, staring at me while holding the glass of water in his hand. Finally, he set the glass down on a small table and looked back at me with heavy eyes. "Yes."

I watched a little snowflake drift down to where it settled on the toe of my shoe, teetering on its edge as if it couldn't decide which way to fall.

"My father told me right before the banquet," Danton continued, and even though he crouched right in front of me, his voice sounded far away. Years away.

"Told you he…died."

Danton hesitated. "Told me he was going to—that Eris would strike tonight, though I have no idea how you found out when I only just…never mind. It doesn't matter. Father told me the news so I would know the war is over."

"Over." I stared at that little snowflake on my shoe.

"Yes. Lord Eris has proclaimed himself sovereign, and…Daria, I am truly sorry about your family."

"You're sorry," I repeated, dumbly. The snowflake teetered over the edge of my shoe and lost itself amidst the thousands of others now blanketing the veranda floor.

"I didn't tell you sooner because I…I knew this banquet would have to proceed, and I didn't think it fair to drop that sort of news on you and still expect you to endure this. But…I want you to know you are safe here, in Bristol. With me. I can protect you—"

"You're…
sorry
," I said again.

"Yes, I…where are you going?"

My hands were already on the handle to the door leading back into the ballroom.

"Daria…?"

I threw the glass doors open and stormed inside. Startled guests scurried out of my way as I strode to the front of the room, interrupting chatter and dancing pairs, and then I reached the steps to the dais.