Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (18 page)

"Del Can't!" Thaddeus hissed behind me.

I kept walking toward the front door, fists clenched at my sides. Gravel crunched behind me as the other two hurried to keep pace.

"Hey, uh, so now might be a good time to tell us what your plan is…?" Thaddeus asked.

I reached the bottom of the steps and ascended two at a time. The boards creaked beneath my weight, and when I reached the top, I pounded on the front door so hard it rattled on its hinges. A shadow appeared behind the decorative glass framing the sides of the door. The handle clicked, the door opened, and a large, gruff man with a bludgeon hooked to his belt stood on the other side.

He looked startled. "Wasn't expecting you to use the—"

I punched him in the face.

He reeled back, covering his nose, and yelled through his hands. He corrected his balance, ripped his bludgeon free, and swung, but I was already in position. I stepped aside, grabbed his arm, and broke it against the doorframe. He wailed in pain. I kicked him back and he tumbled out of the hall and into the next room, just as another man appeared. He moved fast, but I was faster. Within seconds, he was sprawled on the floor right beside the first. More footsteps echoed down the hall, and two more men appeared bearing scimitars.

I grabbed the edges of the pedestal to a marble bust and shoved it at them. It toppled into one of the men, the bust crashing onto the wood flooring, while the other man ran at me. I made a quick step. His momentum kept him pitching forward, and as he ran past I yanked the sword from his hands, spun around and slashed the back of his hamstrings. He cried out and staggered, and I kicked him down. The man who'd been hit with the bust and pedestal got back on his feet again, and in one smooth motion, I whirled around and plunged the scimitar into his gut. He dropped to the ground, and four more men appeared in the hall. These four noticed the others lying on the floor and crept slowly and timidly forward. I adjusted the scimitar's hilt in my palm and lunged. The first two were down within moments, and I snagged a sword from one of them mid-fall just in time to duck and twist and plunge both swords into the bellies of my next two attackers. I jerked the swords free and the last two men slumped to the ground, dead.

Quiet.

I crossed the hall to check the pulses of the men I'd knocked unconscious. One was dead and the other had a pulse, but it was faint. There had been enough death in the last few minutes. I decided to let him live, not that he would wake anytime soon. I grit my teeth together. I hated this—killing. It didn't matter that so much of it was necessary, because each time I killed, it stole a little bit of my soul. I was so afraid I wouldn't have any soul left when this was all over. I stood, holding both scimitars in one hand, and turned to find Thaddeus and Vera gaping at me.

"I mean, I always knew you had a kill-switch, Del Can't, but…
demons and hellhounds
!" Thaddeus gazed wide-eyed at the carnage.

Carnage I had caused. Carnage I didn't want to look at. I wiped the sweat off my brow and started picking weapons off the fallen.

"Was that all of them?" Vera looked at me as if she weren't quite sure what to make of me.

"Doubtful." I tugged a dagger off one of the men's boot. "There could be more downstairs."

"For their sakes, let's hope they've got a small army standing behind them. And to think your mother was actually worried about
you
." Thaddeus snorted, then used his foot to turn a dead man's face to the side. The tattoo on the back of his neck tagged him as a Mort.

"Here…take these…" I handed Thaddeus and Vera a few of the blades I'd pilfered.

They hesitated before taking the weapons from my hands. Not because they didn't want the weapons, but because I was holding them, and they looked a little scared of me. At last, they took them and followed me down the hall to the double doors of our library.

One of the doors had been left open, casting a prism of light on the opposite wall. I peered inside the room. The desk lamp had been left on, but the room was otherwise empty, probably because its previous occupants were currently lying dead or incapacitated near the front door. Between the two tall windows of the library stood the majestic portrait of Yosemite's Bridal Veil Falls, closed and seemingly untouched. I crossed the room to the desk, slid my hand beneath the top panel and pushed up. It gave way to the secret compartment that hid the key, but there wasn't a key in there now. I frowned at the portrait.

"Whatcha looking for?" Thaddeus whispered beside me.

I crossed the room to the portrait. There was no point in being quiet now. If there were someone down there, they would've heard us walking down the hall, assuming the fighting hadn't given us away first. I gripped the frame and pulled. It moved on its hinges. They'd discovered the lower library. What I didn't know was if anyone were down there now.

I inched the portrait open farther. The stairwell beyond was dark, but not as dark as it should've been. I climbed onto the platform and descended, holding tight to the stolen scimitar. When I reached the door at the base of the steps, I stopped. The door was cracked open, and a line of golden light glowed. I peered through.

Even in my limited view I could see the room had been ransacked. Books and documents and priceless artifacts lay everywhere, and the drawers had been pulled from their units and left hanging on hinges. Someone had obviously been searching for something. The sword, maybe? I took a deep breath, placed my hand on the door, and pushed.

There were four men seated at the table near the far wall, playing cards. Hearing the door, they glanced up. I was not who they were expecting.

Chairs screeched as they stood and drew their weapons, and one of them started forward. I knew that one. He was Lorimer Faris, Denn's father.

He recognized me in that same instant. "Well, well, well, if it isn't the illustrious—"

I didn't let him finish. Within three minutes, he and two of his men were either dead or unconscious. I was in a dance with the last, and then got him in a hold with my scimitar at his neck when a voice said, "Not another move or she dies."

I froze, the Mort squirming against the edge of my blade. The voice had been feminine, but it didn't belong to Vera. I couldn't tell where it'd come from, either. I glanced over my shoulder. Vera stood in the stairwell, grunting and struggling against a massive hand gripping her neck. A half-giant. Thaddeus stood at the base of the stairwell gazing up at Vera, his sword arm limp at his side.

"Drop your weapons," the voice continued with the same authority, coming from somewhere beside me.

I hesitated for one full breath as a bead of sweat slid down my temple. The half-giant tightened his grip on Vera's neck and brought the edge of his dagger to her cheek. The dagger looked like a small butter knife in his hand. Thaddeus released his sword, and it fell to the floor with an empty clatter.

"I will not ask you again, Aegis," continued the slippery female voice.

The half-giant lifted Vera so that her toes grazed the stone steps, and she cried out. I dropped my sword. The Mort shoved away from me and rushed to the side of the room.

"Kick it away from you," the female voice said.

I kicked the sword to the back of the room. "Are you going to show yourself, or keep hiding while I kill the rest of your men?"

A pause. "They said you were uncommonly skilled and efficient, Aegis, but I must say…I'm
very
impressed, and that's not something I am often."

I narrowed my eyes in the direction of the voice. "And you are…?"

A woman slipped out from behind a wardrobe that had been moved away from the wall beside me. I'd never seen her before in my life, but I had the feeling that I should know who she was. She looked timeless, defying age in a way that made me think she was far older than she appeared. Her gown was a mesh of obsidian shards clinging to her body, as though she'd raised the glass fragments of dead shadowguard from deep inside the earth and pulled them to her skin to cover all the important places. Long, dark hair coiled over one shoulder, and her face was all sharp angles and power. Her eyes were dark and missing that special quality that made a person human. I suddenly wished I'd never kicked my sword aside.

Her eyes moved past me and settled on Thaddeus, and they flashed with fire. "Thaddeus." It was as though she'd cursed his entire existence just by speaking his name.

Thaddeus flinched. "Hey, Ma."

Ah, it all made sense. She was the infamous dark sorceress, Mistress Astaire Dothrai, Eris's servant and Thaddeus's mother. I hadn't been there when Daria and Thaddeus had stumbled upon her. I reminded myself that although Mistress Astaire Dothrai was a sorceress, her power wasn't a concern here. Here, on Earth where there were only vestiges of magic to draw from, she was powerless. That's why she'd demanded I lose my weapon. She knew she wouldn't stand a chance in a physical fight against me.

Sensing the direction of my thoughts, those dark eyes slid back to me, reptilian and cold. "You don't waste time, do you, Alexander Del Conte?" Her lips curled.

I glared at her. "What do you want?"

Lithe as a cat, she stepped over to the globe of Gaia, her long, slender fingers trailing over the surface, the tip of them vanishing into a cloud. "I imagine I'm here for the same reason you are." She dropped her fingers and took another step toward me.

If only she'd come a little closer…

"Tell me,
Aegis
…" she continued.

One more step…

She didn't take another step closer, but instead took to circling me like a predator. "What were you hoping to achieve with the sword?"

I followed her with my eyes only. I didn't answer.

"Did you expect the people of Gaia to follow you based on the relic of a traitor?" she asked. She touched the corner of her mouth, amused. "You do, don't you? It has always fascinated me how a person with such talent and cleverness can be rendered senseless by the brittle threads of hope. Hope knows no reason. Hope doesn't give credence to evidence or logic. Even if you had the sword, and even if, somehow, you managed to unite the territories against my lord, Eris, what chance would you have?" She paused before me, just beyond arm's length. "My lord has tens of thousands of shadowguard in Valdon and a vast number of faithful servants throughout the territories. Who would even be left to stand with you? Alioth? My lord has already severed Lord Tosca's power, and even with Orindor's betrothal to your princess, Orindor will never stand against him. I expect Commodus to accept our offer any day now. Lord Vega of Campagna will not help you, either—he's fortifying his shores as we speak, in preparation of Pendel's imminent arrival. The Arborenne is weak and dying and they never interfere, which leaves you only with Gesh. That will hardly be enough for you to rally an effective defense against my lord, Eris, so tell me…what do you hope to accomplish?"

I stared into those empty black eyes. "I wonder why your lord sent you here to deal with me, when my task is—as you so clearly put it—hopeless."

She stared back, her expression impassive. Then she glanced down at her fingernails as if she were bored. "Where is the sword?"

"Why do you want it if it's just a relic of a traitor?" I asked. There had to be something within reach—something I could use as a weapon.

Her eyes narrowed. "Tell me where it is."

When I didn't answer her, she said, "Perhaps you need a little persuasion." Her lips twisted into an elegantly cruel smile, and her eyes slid over to Vera. "Yes, you'll be an even better subject than that other woman who lived here." Mistress Dothrai noticed my anger and her eyes lit up. "Ah, I see you found her on your way here. Yes, the two of us had a bit of fun. Of course, she didn't tell me what I most wanted, and I've little patience for those who prove themselves useless. I make it a…mission of mine to make use of them. A sacrifice to Mortis is one of the greatest honors bestowed, though it's a pity your friend didn't recognize the honor. I must say, for such a fragile creature, she had a strong pair of lungs. I'm not sure I've ever heard a person scream quite like—"

I lunged at her. My body froze—pitched forward, arms extended and knees bent, as if I were a snapshot of myself in action. I couldn't move. I couldn't even wiggle my pinky finger. Mistress Dothrai had complete control over my body. Somehow, in this world, she'd found a way to use magic. Dread pitted in my stomach.

Mistress Dothrai approached me, digging sharp fingernails along my extended forearm. "Fascinating, isn't it? I'll admit: your kind of magic is extremely difficult, but lucky for me, I don’t work with your kind of magic. Of course"—she reached out and dug those nails into my chin—"it's still a bit more difficult on this planet, though I don't imagine that will be the case for much longer. Now, where is the sword?"

Pressure lightened on my lungs and mouth—enough so I could speak. "I don't—"

She squeezed harder, pinching off my words. "I'm running out of patience, Aegis."

Vera cried out again behind me. The half-giant carved a bright red line down her cheek. Blood pooled and trickled in its path.

"Hellfire, Ma, I can tell you where it is." Thaddeus shoved past the Mort I'd almost killed before the sorceress appeared to stand beside his mother. Thaddeus admired my current predicament, and that cocky smirk appeared on his face.

That lying sack of
kutt
. I should've killed him in Pendel.

Thaddeus sighed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You didn't honestly think I'd switched sides, did you? I mean, no hard feelings, Del Can't. I appreciate the second chance and all, but you should've listened to
your
instincts, not Daria's. Daria is like a lamb who leads herself to the slaughter."

Hatred burned through my arms, my legs. My world turned red.

"Spirits! I must be better than I thought!" Thaddeus said, looking back at Mistress Dothrai. "To fool my own mother! And it was
your
idea I stay behind with the princess to find out their counter-moves, remember? If anyone should be mad here, it should be me." He folded his arms over his chest, looking offended. "You left me in Karth with a horde of kytharii. I could've died."