Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (42 page)

I lay there for a moment, my head still whirling. My body ached everywhere, and my left ankle pulsed. I rolled to my stomach, trying to hoist myself back up, and I caught sight of a shadow before me. My gaze trailed up slowly, right as the face of a fanged demon bore down on me.

The brooch blazed against my hip. Blinding white light flashed, I heard a boom of sound, and then the shadows—and fog—were gone.

Heaving, I propped myself up on my elbows while glancing around frantically, not trusting my vision. The fog wasn't gone completely, but it was thin—more like it'd been when Myez and I had first arrived. And those
things
were nowhere in sight.

I started to stand. Searing pain shot through my left ankle, and I collapsed with a curse. I sat up and untied the lacings on my boot, wincing with every touch, every pull. Oh, this wasn't good. I tugged at my boot and cried out. Tears stung my eyes. I'd suffered from some pretty bad sprains in my life, but I'd never felt anything like this. It would've been better if I'd broken it.

It'd only been, what—two hours since I'd left Myez? And I'd managed to get lost and sprain my ankle. I staggered to my feet, putting all my weight on my right foot. It felt as if my heart were beating inside my left ankle. I took a few steadying breaths and half stumbled, half hopped forward. I bit my bottom lip, growling against the pain, and then I tripped again.

I fell back on the ground, and I yelled. At the vale. At the fog. At this world. I couldn't cross a mountain pass like this. I couldn't do anything like this. I picked up a rock and chucked it, screaming after it. And then I fell down in a heap and cried.

The little brooch pulsed in my hip.

Wiping my nose on my sleeve, I pushed myself to a seated position and wriggled the brooch out of my pocket. It pulsed again, just like before, when it'd led Myez and me to the cave.

I sniffled. "Sure,
now
you're awake." Stupid piece of dragonscale.

It pulsed again, a little warmer this time. It seemed as if it was telling me to get a move on. I snorted, wiping my eyes. I wouldn't be moving anywhere for a while.

Apparently, the brooch didn't agree with me. It pulsed hot and insistent.

Or maybe…maybe it was warning me something else was on its way.

Motivated by my desire to not face those demonic shadows again, I glanced about me for a stick—anything large enough I could lean on for support. There. A few yards away. That one would work.

I crawled over to the stick, wincing and cursing as my ankle throbbed, and I used the stick to climb to a stand, grunting and hissing all the way. The stick wasn't much, but it would do. It would have to. I held on to the brooch and let it guide me through the vale.

 

 

The sun was setting by the time the brooch led me to the familiar granite wall. I hobbled along until I found the trench. By then, my foot felt like a brick of lead that might fall off any moment, and I was pretty sure my armpit would be permanently bruised from supporting my weight on it for hours.

Myez was dressing his wound as I crunched along the shore of the lake. He glanced up, dropped whatever was in his hands, and came running toward me.

"What happened?" he asked, wrapping his arm around me and helping me walk.

"My ankle…" I winced.

"Broken?"

I wished. I shook my head. I just wanted to lie down and sleep, and maybe never wake up again.

He helped me all the way back to the cave, lowering me carefully on the floor. I leaned back against the cavern wall. My mind was already starting to fade away, and then he tugged at my boot. I cried out, the pain making my eyes burn.

"I have to take it off," he said.

I chewed on my bottom lip as he completely unlaced my boot. Fuzzy spots marked my vision, and with one last tug, he had my boot off. My foot was very, very swollen. He peeled off my sock, and I swallowed. The entire outside of my ankle was black and blue.

He looked up at me from beneath his brow. "This is bad, Daria."

I grunted.

"No, I mean it. You need to keep off this for at least a week."

I wanted to argue with him, but I knew he was right. I'd known this would be the case ever since it'd happened. I sagged back against the cave wall and shut my eyes as a tear spilled down my cheek.

"How'd this happen?"

I told him, and when I mentioned the shadows in the vale, his lips pinched together.

"Do you know what they were?" I asked.

He shook his head. "There are many things in this vale that should not be." He hesitated. "Let's just be thankful the brooch led you back here."

If it'd led me to the mountain pass, as I'd wanted, I probably wouldn't be in this predicament in the first place. But there was no point in saying that. Obviously, the brooch didn't want me taking the mountain pass. It wanted me here, in this God-forsaken vale, for some God-forsaken reason.

"What are you doing?" I asked Myez, who was dragging some larger rocks into our small cave.

"You need to elevate that foot," he said.

I didn't even have the energy to argue. I was so tired of everything. The loss, the struggle, the pain. The constant disappointment—at myself. I was the daughter of a Regius and a Pandor, supposed descendent of the Draconi, and within twenty-four hours of leaving the Pontefracts, I was stuck in a cave, trapped in the middle of the Shadowvale, too weak to even nurse my own sprain. And Alex and Thad and Vera and Fleck were out there somewhere, fighting a war—a war I should be fighting—but I couldn't do anything about it. How would I even get to them now? And what good was I to them like this? What good was I to
anyone
like this? And here I'd thought I could help. Here I'd thought I had the power to stop my uncle. No, all I ever seemed to succeed at was getting the people I loved hurt or killed. Maybe it was a good thing I was stuck here with a bad ankle.

I closed my eyes and another tear spilled over my cheek. Yes, I was tired. So tired of existing, because existing hurt too much.

 

26

 

 

ALEXANDER

 

 

"H
ey, Chains, think I could get a bucket, or something?" Thaddeus asked the guard. "My back hurts and I'd like to roll it out. I'd use my chamber pot, but seeing as how it's full…"

I couldn't actually see Thaddeus. We'd been thrown in adjacent cells, and my only view of the world beyond was through a small and thickly barred window in my door. Being that my wrists and ankles were bound, chaining me in a seated position to the back wall of my cell, all I could see through that window was a dazzling view of a wall. I'd been given a chamber pot, too, not that I could use it, chained down as I was. Of course, this was exactly why they'd set it there, right in front of my face but just beyond reach. Luckily, we hadn't been down here long enough for it to be an issue, but from the sound of it, Thaddeus and Vera hadn't been chained to the wall as I'd been.

Still, I wasn't sure how long we'd been down here. Time is elastic when you're confined in darkness. Minutes stretch to hours and hours stretch to days. A whole lifetime passes in the span of one evening. I would've used magic to free my wrists and ankles from their shackles, but the enchantments in this prison prohibited me from doing so. I'd tried breaking those enchantments, but they'd been expertly placed, and they had to be centuries old. I felt the ripples and frays along the surface, like thousands of tiny, fine hairs brushing against my skin, but the spell beneath was intact and solid as the slab of granite we were locked inside. Every spell had a weakness, but I couldn't find this one. Whoever the spellcaster had been, their skill was better than mine.

I couldn't break us out of here, just like I hadn't been able to save my father and Stefan, and now they were gone. I should've been there for them. I should've been there to stop Eris instead of running on this fool's errand. I jerked against the chains, hard—clenching my teeth to stifle my yell. Pain shot through my wrists as metal cut skin, but I didn't care. I slumped against the wall, shut my eyes, and leaned my head back. I had failed my father and Stefan, and now I was failing Daria, too.

"Hey, you got cotton in your ears, Chains?" Thaddeus continued. Mortis had to have a special place in hell for people who were this irritating.

"I told you to—" Chains was cut off by a splash. The air suddenly reeked of urine.

"Sorry, Chains, but you left me no choice," Thaddeus said.

Chains' growl was followed by a thud and a rattle, as if he'd pounded his fist against the bars of Thaddeus's cell. "I'll kill you, you smug bastard."

"Was that supposed to be an insult?" Thaddeus continued. "You know, my parents never actually married, so the bastard part is really just a fact of life. For that matter, so is the smug part, so…"

"Why you little—"

"Smug bastard. I know. You said that. You really need to get a little more creative, here, Chains."

Before the guard could say another word, a new voice yelled "Gaff!" from farther down the hall. I hated that I was chained to the wall. I was blind in here.

"Why are you talking to the prisoners?" As the words drew nearer, I realized the voice belonged to Denn. By the scraping of boots, it sounded as if he hadn't come alone. My body flooded with heat and my fists clenched, needing to hit.

"I'm, uh…" Chains said. "Sorry, sir."

"Why are you wet?" Denn asked, then a pause. "Is that piss?"

"He threw his chamber pot on me. Sir."

"Why were you standing that close to his door?" Denn asked.

"You really need to find a new crew, Rusty," Thaddeus interjected. "Chains, here, is about as sharp as a marble."

"It's too bad you turned, Thaddeus," Denn said. "I was hoping the rumors weren't true. We could've used you in Astor."

"Eh, you know me, Rusty," Thaddeus said so easily, I could picture him leaning back against the wall with that smirk. "Always like to keep people guessing."

"His Majesty is willing to give you another chance, you know. It's the only reason he's asked for you alive. You cooperate with me here, and I'll see to it he knows you've had a change of heart."

"I already had my change of heart, when I still had a heart to give," Thaddeus answered, his voice serious. "I won't sacrifice it now—not for him. Never again. You'd stay clear of him too, if you knew what was good for you. He's a liar, Rusty. He doesn't care about you. He's using you, and once he gets what he wants, he won't hesitate to let you rot."

"I am truly sorry to hear you feel that way." Denn made it sound like a threat.

"And I'm sorry you don't."

Keys jingled, the latch on my door clicked, and Denn stood in the threshold. Despite his short and unsuccessful conversation with Thaddeus, a triumphant smile spread across his face, pressing his fat, red cheeks back, giving them the effect of two inflated red balloons.

"I'm not sure what you're smiling about," I said flatly.

He took the smallest step forward. "I finally caught you."

"And it took roughly a dozen men, four walls of stone, handcuffs, chains, and a blocking spell to hold me—a spell which, by the way, I know you didn't weave. Not exactly cause for personal triumph."

His gaze darkened. It was nice seeing I elicited the same feelings in him that he elicited in me.

He strode forward and paused a few feet before me. "I told His Majesty you're here."

I glared at him. "Where's Eldar?"

"You know," Denn sneered, "when the guard told me three wolves arrived, I knew one of them had to be you. You're the only one arrogant enough to challenge King Eris."

"
Wolves
?" I snapped. "Forget where you came from, Denn?"

"I didn't forget." He paced the small space before me. "I've just chosen to reject the aegises' objectives and beliefs." He stopped to glare down at me. "We all can't be the precious face of the Academia."

"Seems like we all can't be its rear, either."

Denn's fist came faster than I could register. Pain exploded in my jaw. My head whirled back against the cold stone, my chains rattling from the force. I tasted blood. I just managed to right myself, when Denn kicked me in the gut. Air punched from my lungs and I heaved, sucking on air. Denn kicked me again, directly in my ribs. Stars marked my vision, and I suddenly couldn't get a full breath. Pain seared where his boot had landed, and I knew he'd broken at least one of my ribs. I coughed then winced from the pain of it.

"Not so
untouchable
now, are you, Del Conte?" He grabbed a fistful of my hair, and I clenched my teeth as he jerked my head back, forcing me to look at him. My ribs burned with each with breath. "Watch yourself," he hissed, fury contorting his features. "This isn't the Academia. I don't have to play by the rules."

"You never—"
wince
"—did anyway. Preying on the…vulnerable is just…your style."

He jerked my hair harder. "All I have to do is keep you alive, but there are so many other things I can do to you. Things I've wanted to do for a
very
long time. Like your little princess."

I grunted against his pull on my hair and the throbbing in my ribs.

"I'll admit…I'm very disappointed she isn't with you," he continued. "I was looking forward to finishing what I started that night by the river, but then I remembered she's with the Pontefracts. I'm sure Danton's giving it to her good. But she won't be with him much longer. The Pontefracts will hand her over, and when they do, I'll give that little whore what she deserves, and I'll make you watch."

"You bast—" I started when Denn rammed his fist into my side, right where he'd kicked me. I gasped in pain, the edges of my vision going dark.

"Maybe this will teach you to think twice before interfering in my business. Your little princess was practically begging for it that night. Wandering out of the castle all alone, so late at night, to spy on my men and me. I was gonna teach her a lesson, too. Seems you both never learn."

I fisted my hands, my pulse roaring in my ears. I was going to kill him.

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