Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (55 page)

Vera grumbled and I laughed.

"Yeah." Thaddeus leaned back on his gloved hands and stared at the space in front of him as if his statue were standing right there in full glory. "And the inscription along the bottom must absolutely include the words witty, genius, and handsome. All capitals on handsome."

"Wait, I'm confused," Vera said.

"About?" Thaddeus asked.

"I thought this was
your
statue we were talking about."

Thaddeus and I both laughed.

Once we'd picked up the last bunch of warriors in Kurst, we totaled a little over a thousand. It wasn't the thousands Eris had at his command, but these were Nords, and what they didn't have in numbers, they made up for in sheer size and grit. There was also the brutal winter storm to thank. Though we all had bits of ice and snow stuck to our hair and faces, the storm gave us excellent cover. For our first two days of traveling, we hadn't run into any trouble. We
did
run into a few small caravans of villagers evacuating from Alioth's fringes. They'd received my message, thank the spirits, and were headed back to the capital to be near the portal. I still hadn't heard from Sir Torren, and that worried me.

I wished Lord Tosca were with us, even though he'd made it very clear he was in no position to make the trek. He'd asked me to lead these men, though I didn't feel as if I deserved to. His men made the transition so easily, deferring to me as if they always had, and it humbled me. Still, I'd done my best persuading Lord Tosca to come, but he had been resolute that I be their leader in this war, and his men hadn't argued. It seemed to me that Lord Tosca was giving up. With the loss of his family, he simply didn't have the fire he once did, and although it saddened me, I understood it. I didn't think I'd fight for life either if that life had to be lived without Daria.

We had traveled days and nights, stopping only for a few hours to let our horses and ourselves rest, always without a fire, just as we were now. Not even my thick layers of leather and wool chased away this kind of cold.

"I'm going to walk for a bit." I pressed my hands to my knees and stood. Vera and Thaddeus both looked up at me.

"The blazes why? We've been walking for three days straight!" Thaddeus asked.

"I know. I just want to check on things," I said.

"Relax, Del Can't. You need it. You've barely slept since we left."

"I am relaxed. I just feel like moving."

His eyes flickered over my face. "Want me to come?"

I could tell he didn't really want to get up. We'd walked almost twenty miles today.

"No, you two stay here. I promise I'll be right back." I left the two of them. As I walked through our camp, Vera's laughter echoed in my ears. She rarely laughed, and it was a nice sound. I was glad Thaddeus brought it out in her, even if she looked as if she'd murder him half the time. But perhaps that was also why she looked that way.

Thaddeus was right, of course. I hadn't slept much, but I just couldn't relax. Not when so many lives were in my hands. Not when so many men looked to me for hope and direction. I felt completely responsible for them, and that sense of responsibility kept my mind active and my body restless. That kind of responsibility would never let me sleep.

Most of the men slept, though some were still awake, huddled together in quiet conversation. Our army of Nords looked like a fur blanket upon the snow. Tonight, we'd found refuge in a deep crevice between two rolling hills covered in snow. The wind couldn't quite reach us down here, which made for a nice reprieve from its icy gusts. I trudged through the snow, past the edge of our camp, and up the rise to where it crested. Wind howled, blowing more bits of snow and ice in my face as I gazed in the direction of Orindor.

I wondered why Lord Pontefract hadn't given over the stone, or why Eris hadn't simply taken it from him when he'd passed by Orindor the first time. Not that it mattered, I supposed. Eris had done plenty of damage without it. The only reason I could come up with was that maybe Eris didn't want to exhaust his troops in a battle against an unwilling Lord Pontefract, which would've given Valdon more time to rally against Eris. Whatever his reason, I couldn't imagine much stood between Eris and the stone, other than Lord Pontefract. Lord Pontefract was extremely powerful and resourceful, and the men of Orindor were stalwart when it came to defending their territory, but would it be enough?

I turned my gaze about twenty degrees north of Orindor, in the direction we'd set out for tomorrow. We'd been traveling parallel to the Olde Road and, assuming the weather didn't worsen and we didn't hit any trouble, tomorrow we'd reach the junction of West Road and Road Centrale, which would be our path to Rex Cross. At this rate, it would still be another week before we reached Castle Regius.

"Daria, stay alive for me…" I whispered to the night. My hand rested on the hilt of her dagger, feeling the cold metal against my palm. I'd kept her dagger strapped to my belt ever since I'd found it. I inhaled a slow breath of wintry air, exhaling through my lips, my breath condensing into a cloud the wind quickly stole away. I liked being alone, because then I could almost feel her—sense her—right there on the fringes of my world, but every time I reached for her, she'd slip right through my fingers. It was my one comfort in all this: She was still alive.

A flicker of light drew my attention away from my thoughts. It had come from just around the next rise. There were no villages in these parts, and the Olde Road was about a mile east of here. None of my men had been foolish enough to light a fire, because every Nord alive knew what kinds of creatures were drawn to a fire in the night and in these parts. I squinted at the darkness but caught no signs of the light again. Maybe it was a winter wisp. They were common enough in Alioth, though they didn't usually come so far south. But then I saw the flicker again. That wasn't the light of a wisp. Someone was carrying a lantern. No Nord in their right mind would carry a lantern out here. But if it wasn't a Nord, then who, or what, was it?

I pulled my fur cowl up over my head and trudged forward, toward the source. The darkness and snow was cover enough for me, though I kept one hand on Flamebearer's hilt. Thaddeus and Vera would probably have a conniption if they knew I was walking so far away from our camp—alone—but I needed to investigate before I lost whatever it was, and we couldn't afford to be discovered. I made a wide berth of the light then found a snowy embankment to duck behind as soon as I noticed a small camp of soldiers, huddled around a struggling fire, their horses standing nearby. Idiots. What were they thinking lighting a fire in these parts?

A red and black flag stood in the center of their camp, whipping violently in the wind, and my body flushed with anger. Those were Orindor's colors.

What were Lord Pontefract's men doing out here? Had Commodus heard of the battle at Astor and sent a scouting party to investigate? Had he already joined Eris? But it was unlike Lord Pontefract to send soldiers to do aegises' work, and these definitely weren't aegises. In fact, was that…Danton? My pulse quickened as I strained to see, gazing at the man now standing and freezing his hide off by the looks of it.

He tilted his head to address someone else, and it was just enough for the fire to illuminate his face. It
was
Danton. What in the seven territories was
he
doing out here? I didn't feel cold anymore. All I felt was white-hot rage, followed by the sudden urge to pummel him with my fists. Over and over again. I inhaled a slow breath to gather my bearings, and then I realized I also recognized the person he was talking to: It was Carter Pontefract, his brother.

That fact was even more startling than the first. The two brothers couldn't be any more different if they'd tried. Carter despised his older brother. I didn't know Carter very well, but I knew him well enough to know that he would never resign himself to Danton's command of his own free will. Lord Pontefract must've demanded it, but then it wasn't like Lord Pontefract to permit both of his heirs to travel under these conditions or without at least a small squadron as escort. No, Danton and Carter must have organized this themselves, but what could possibly have pitted the Pontefract brothers on the same side?

And then I realized the answer as if someone had whispered it inside my ear:
Daria
. They were out here because they were both searching for her. A thousand questions muddled my brain, muting my anger. Did he know where she was or where she was headed? Was that why they were traveling this way? How long had it taken him to figure out she'd left? And why was Carter helping him, and why were they so obviously searching for her in secret?

But did I risk it? Did I risk giving away our location and plans just so I could ask if he had any information on Daria? Of course, we'd most likely give ourselves away in a few hours when we continued on our way. We'd never be able to let Danton go, and then we'd be burdened with the responsibility of a dozen prisoners, assuming the Nords didn't decide to just kill them on the spot. Nords didn't harbor much good feeling toward Orindor. No, we'd have to wait out the night until Danton and his small group passed us by.

Danton set down his sword and walked to the edge of their camp. He angled himself a little away from me as he faced the woods, apparently to relieve himself. But when he was done, he didn't walk back. He searched the shadows, like a dog catching a scent. Was it possible that he sensed me out here, somehow? He'd always had a talent for tracking, but I didn't think it possible he could sense me out here in this storm.

I decided to go back. As much as I wanted to find out what he knew about Daria, I didn't think it fair to risk the safety of our group because of it. Also, I wasn't entirely sure I could have a conversation with him without breaking his nose. I was backing away when I heard a snap at the edge of the forest, not far from where Danton stood. I froze, my fingers flexed around Flamebearer's hilt. It wasn't me Danton had sensed.

The wind died and the temperature dropped so low my nose burned. Something foul lingered in the air, like rotted flesh and nightmares. A prickling sensation crawled up my neck. Some of the horses brayed. Danton and his men had lured something here, and it stood right at the edges of the forest.

36

DARIA

A
lex was a prince.

Alex.
My
Alex. The little boy who'd chopped off my braid when we were kids, who'd convinced me a pot of mud and rock soup was safe to eat—probably good for me, too. Alex, the young man who'd fought and wrestled with me, who'd taught me how to pick locks and start a fire, who'd teased and harassed me, who at some point, through it all, had become the same young man I'd grown to love body and soul. And he was a prince. No, not just
a
prince…
the
prince. Of Gaia.

I opened my mouth and then shut it again. I blinked once. Twice. It felt like a swarm of butterflies had taken residence in my chest cavity. Was this how Alex had felt the day he'd learned who I was? Except…was I still even a princess if he was the true prince?

"Princess…?" It was Myez, and his voice reeled my thoughts back like bait on a fishhook.

I glanced over at him, feeling suddenly dizzy.

"Is everything all right?" he asked.

I blinked and opened my mouth again, but nothing came out of it.

That was why Nexus had recognized Alex standing on Karth's wall. That was why Nexus had said his destiny would be wrapped up in Alex's—because of me. Because I was a Draconi and Alex was the rightful heir to the throne, and the Draconi of old had served King Galahad Estroian, who, apparently, was Alex's many-greats-grandfather.

The world tilted on its axis, and Myez watched me with growing concern.

"It's Alex." My voice came out in a whisper.

Myez looked as if he was about to reach out and grab hold of me, as if he thought I was in danger of falling over. Maybe I was. I braced myself against the cave wall.

"Has something happened to him?" he asked.

Another thought suddenly struck me: the box. According to Arioch Prime, the box of the Draconi contained written lineages of the royal bloodline—a bloodline that would've pointed straight at Alex. Astaire Dothrai had stolen that box, which meant Eris had it and…

I shoved myself from the wall and cursed under my breath. "He knows."

"Who knows what?" Myez asked, his arm partially extended toward me.

"We have to find him…he's in danger!"

He's not in immediate danger, my little petulant one, but he
will
need your help.

"Who is in danger?" Myez's tone frayed with irritation.

"Alex!" I spun on Myez. "He's the last Estroian heir!"

Myez's mouth opened to reply, but then he suddenly realized what I had said, and his mouth just sort of hung there. "The reptile told you that?"

Nexus snarled beyond our cave.

"Of course!" I pressed my palms to my temples. "Why didn't I realize it sooner?"

I hope that's rhetorical, because I doubt you want my answer.

"It all makes sense. Pendel's flame lighting during the games and what Arioch said about the Estroians surviving. Sonya's from Pendel, too, and she never,
ever
talks about her childhood or why she and my mom were so close and, oh my gosh, I can't believe I didn't…and Alex…" He'd been increasingly distant during our trek to Pendel. He'd blamed it on his position as an aegis, a promise to my brother, and he had stuffed me full of propriety speeches, but… I suddenly remembered how oddly he'd reacted to Ven Orelius's recounting of the Estroians—Alex's ancestors. Actually, he'd seemed uncomfortable. He'd known even then. I stormed out of the cave and faced Nexus directly. "How long has Alex known?"

Nexus regarded me, looking like a bored cat.

That, you would have to ask him yourself. I only have insight into
your
mind.