Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (36 page)

"Despite that power," Myez continued, "it was His Majesty's command that we bring her alive. I was greatly concerned she wouldn't survive the journey, considering her current state of health. Her escape from the Pontefracts and Lord Tiernan cost her a great deal and, dragons or no, I would prefer
not
to fall from His Majesty's favor due to a simple oversight that could've been easily avoided. I was not acting against your wishes, my lord, but if you prefer I not take such liberties with my own assessments, I swear to you it will not happen again." So smooth, so calculated and persuasive, and so just like Myez Rader.

A flame flared from the embers, lashing out like a viper.

"Keráth," Lord Cethin said.

The pykan's head was still bowed. "My lord."

"You are responsible for the princess's health."

"Yes, my lord."

A blinding blue light flashed, followed by a high, keening wail, and when the light faded, Keráth was gone. Black scorch marked the snow where he had been standing. Myez clenched his jaw, eyes fixed on the black mark, and the other men were silent and still as death.

"Myez," Lord Cethin said.

"Yes, my lord." Myez's voice was quiet.

"She is your responsibility from now on."

Myez bowed his head, but for all his solemn reverence, his fear cut like a cold knife driving through my chest. "Yes, my lord Cethin."

No one else moved—no one breathed—as Lord Cethin moved around the fire. The bottom of his veil was like a dark mist, skimming the ground without quite touching it, and he left no footprints behind. He kept moving—floating toward me—and then I saw his face.

My breath lodged in terror as I gazed up at a demon. Pieces of white flesh flaked off a face of bone and striated grey muscle, like a corpse who'd come back from the dead. In that respect, he reminded me of a kytharii, but he was infinitely worse. His eyes looked like two oily black pools, shining with the intelligence of a mind that was cunning and evil and cruel. Looking at him was like looking at the manifestation of every nightmare I'd ever had, and gazing into those dark, soulless eyes was like gazing at my own doom. I suddenly wished I were still unconscious.

The demon stood before me, those black pools unblinking and hypnotizing. And then I saw Eris unleash a bolt of light at my father's chest. I felt the moment his heart stopped all over again, and I heard my own scream as I watched him fall down to the ground, dead.

The scene changed.

I was plunged under ice-cold water, over and over again, gasping and choking for breath, and then Denn threw me on the banks of a river. His lips were twisted and cruel as he pinned me beneath him, and I was helpless, too weak to fight back.

But then it wasn't Denn anymore. It was Danton, his face hard like his father's, blue eyes cold and severe as he hit me in the face just like he'd wanted to that night.

The scene changed again, and Isla screamed and writhed and begged as pain wrenched through her body. She went still and her face rolled toward me, but it wasn't her face anymore. It was mine.

The scene changed again, and my uncle drove a knife into Stefan's chest. I screamed and screamed as hot tears spilled down my cheeks, but no matter how hard I tried to run to him, my legs wouldn't carry me. My brother slumped to the pristine floor now covered in his blood. Another person I couldn't save. Another person I had failed. Another piece of my heart ripped out of my body.

The scene changed yet again. Alex stood before me. I reached for him, but he stepped back, looking me over with disgust. Looking me over as if I were the failure I knew I was, and then I saw Vera embrace Alex. Vera, who wore that blood red gown she'd worn at the festival. Vera, who laughed and sneered at me for being a coward, for being so weak, and for being stupid enough to think I could ever deserve a man like Alex. Thaddeus stood there too, loathing in his eyes. All of them turned their backs on me and walked away, fading into the mist, and I was alone. So alone and my heart was breaking, crushed by the weight of my own agony and despair.

I was wheezing and sobbing when my world returned to the present, and I felt Lord Cethin's cold satisfaction. He'd drawn energy from my nightmares. He had fed on my pain and misery, and it made him even stronger. No doubt he would've feasted on me till he'd stolen every bit of energy I had left if my uncle hadn't asked for me alive. I was afraid, then. More afraid than I'd ever been.

"Myez, come here," the demon said in that otherworldly voice.

Myez approached slowly as Cethin pulled an object from his cloak. There was a flash of silver—my dagger. I recognized the coppery hilt. He must've stolen it from me when I'd been out cold. Come to think of it, I wasn't wearing Danton's sword anymore, either, or his gloves or my cloak with the dragon brooch. I was tied up and weaponless, prisoner to the most powerful demon I'd ever encountered. Cethin held the blade to Myez. "Three drops."

Myez's face bore no expression, and he didn't meet my gaze as he grabbed me by the elbow and pulled me up so I was sitting. My world spun, my head dizzy and pounding. Even if I weren't tied and weaponless, I'd never have the energy to escape them. My body felt sluggish, and I swayed even as Myez held on to my arm. He moved fast, pressing the edge of my dagger against my forearm, the steel ice cold. He punctured the skin and I winced. Blood pooled along the cut and a river of warmth trickled down my arm. He used the flat of the blade to collect the blood, but just as he was finishing up, he pressed something into my palm. He'd moved so fast that if I hadn't felt the cold metal in my hand, I wouldn't have seen him do it. He pulled the bloodstained blade away, and finally looked into my eyes. His own probed with warning. Before I could react, he stood and handed the blade to Cethin. I curled my fingers around the object in my hand. It was a key.

Why had he given me a key? Surely, he wasn't helping me escape. Even if I used the key to unlock my cuffs, there was no way I'd outrun them. I'd seen what Lord Cethin had done to Keráth, and I didn't think I could handle living through my nightmares again—not right now. Was this some sort of trap?

Lord Cethin turned around and approached the fire, arms spread to the sky as he chanted words in a language I'd never heard before. It was as if he spoke to the shadows, as if he were summoning every evil that had ever existed, and it sent a sharp chill through my body. The wind ripped through the forest and the fire roared, transforming into an eerie green and casting everything in a sickly hue. Lord Cethin grabbed the dagger streaked with my blood and held it to the sky as he chanted, and then he let the blade fall into the pulsing green flames. The fire swelled, twisting and morphing into warped faces. Mouths opened and jaws stretched unnaturally wide, hands clawing at the night as if they were trapped spirits trying to break free. Bone-chilling wails pierced the night, echoed by distant howls of what at first sounded like wolves, but these were much more terrifying than wolves. All went quiet and the fire collapsed back into orange and glowing embers. Lord Cethin reached into the flames and retrieved the dagger—somehow without burning himself—and gazed at the flat of the blade as if he were gazing through a window. Suddenly, Lord Cethin frowned, his eyes narrowed, and he shoved the blade into the folds of his cloak. "I shall return."

"My lord?" Myez asked.

"We will leave within the half hour." The demon's dark eyes fastened upon me. "Prepare the girl. I must speak with His Majesty." Lord Cethin vanished in a whirl of black smoke.

"What are you doing?" Myez's voice cut across our camp.

Fritz stalked toward me with something in his hands. "Getting her ready, like he said."

"You'll stay away from her." Myez's voice had gone cold.

The guard froze mid-stride and looked up at Myez, and Myez stuck out an open palm. "Give it here."

The man regarded him a moment, eyes moving between the object in his hands and Myez, and then the man curled his fingers around the object in his hand and moved it behind him. I couldn't tell what it was, but a sharp edge flickered in stray light.

"I won't ask you again, Fritz." Myez's hand remained extended, his expression a reprimand.

Fritz licked his lips. "What's it to you?"

"I'm in charge of the girl's health, that's what."

Fritz's eyes narrowed darkly. "I don't trust you."

"I suppose I'm fortunate Lord Cethin's appointment has nothing to do with your opinion," Myez replied. "Hand it over."

Fritz wasn't moved and the other men watched, their curiosity piqued. The half-giant took a small step closer as if preparing to intervene.

"What's the girl to you, eh, Myez?" Fritz asked. "I saw you with her earlier. You weren't just concerned for King Eris's orders. You're never that concerned for anyone. So, I'll ask you again: What's the girl to you?"

The men's gazes moved from Fritz to Myez, waiting. Even the forest seemed to wait for his answer.

Myez frowned, anger flashing in his one eye as he called Fritz a name I was sure wasn't nice, but had no idea what it meant. "What do you think?" He gestured to the burnt half of his face. "You think you somehow have an insight into my soul that evades Lord Cethin? How dare you insult his judgment. I
suggest
you hand that over now before I decide to enlighten him on the matter."

Silence. An ember popped on the fire.

Fritz's eyes narrowed, his body paralyzed with indecision. At last, he grunted and stomped begrudgingly toward Myez, and he withdrew the object from behind his back. It was a wicked-looking black scimitar, like a jagged shard of obsidian, with a hilt made of bleached bone. The sight of it made my heart beat a little faster. I had no idea what "preparing" me meant, but by the looks of that blade, I didn't want to find out. Fritz dangled the weapon in the air, pinching the blade's tip between his thumb and forefinger while he glared at Myez. Myez wrapped his hand around the hilt. The pair of them stood there staring at each other as though locked in some silent standoff, and then finally Fritz released his hand. The next thing I knew, Fritz gasped, and the bone hilt was protruding from the side of his neck.

Myez jerked the weapon from Fritz's neck, and the wide-eyed Fritz gurgled something as he dropped to the ground. And then, everything turned to chaos.

Flashes like lightning forked into the night, followed by blasts of sound. The campfire exploded and I rolled away from the shower of embers, holding tight to my key. I kept rolling, over and over, until I'd collided with the trunk of a nearby tree, and then I scrambled to find the keyhole to my cuffs. My fingers trembled with cold and fatigue, and when I found the keyhole, it took me a few tries but I finally shoved the key in and twisted. There was a click and the cuffs sprung open, and then I unlocked the cuffs at my ankles. The moment they fell, an electric current of energy surged through my body. My magic. It burned through my legs and arms like liquid fire, lending me strength. I staggered to my feet, overwhelmed by the force of it, as if it were some wild animal inside of me trying to break free. But before I had a moment to think, the half-giant's thick fingers grabbed me by the waist and started dragging me away from the commotion, deeper into the forest. I yelled and stomped and jerked, but I might as well have been attacking a rock. My skin tingled and the energy inside of me surged again, but this time, I let it go.

A wall of light pulsed from me and rammed into the half-giant. He dropped me as the force threw him back at least twenty feet. He slammed into a tree with so much force the tree cracked, and the half-giant bounced to the ground, rolled on his side, and didn't get up. My skin still tingled all over as I rolled over, exhausted and heaving, trying to climb back to my feet. The break was short-lived because someone else grabbed my arm.

This grip was strong, but not half-giant strong. I reacted without thinking, and within seconds I had my attacker pinned to a tree with his blade in my hand, pressing it against his neck. It was Myez Rader, but he wasn't fighting back. He was only struggling to breathe.

"Daria—"

"What do you want?" I growled.

He swallowed, his Adam's apple pressed against the blade's edge. "Please…I need you to listen—"

"Answer my question." I shoved the blade harder against his neck.

"I will. I swear." Even strained, his voice sounded repentant and pleading. "But we can't stay here. Lord Cethin will return any moment"—a grunt—"and when he does, you'll never get away."

"Why should I believe anything you say?"

"Because you don't have any other choice." Another grunt. "
Please
."

I looked past him at the campfire, at the carnage he'd left behind. Bodies were strewn around the campsite, dead or unconscious, I didn't know. Myez had done that. All on his own, Myez had taken on three Mortis worshippers in the amount of time it'd taken me to take care of one half-giant.

Wind howled again, cold and foreboding like a spirit bringing dark premonitions. Myez was right. Once Cethin returned, I'd never escape.

"There's an…amulet around my neck." Myez's voice was strained.

I glared at him, and then used the tip of the blade to dig beneath his collar and lift the chain. Sure enough, a heavy, bronze disc dangled from it.

"Your uncle gave it to me so I could bring you to him," he said.

I dropped the chain and shoved my blade harder against his neck.

"I'm not—" He grunted again. "What I mean…not to him…use the…brooch."

My eyes narrowed. He had noticed my brooch. "What are you talking about?"

"The one…your cloak…it'll take you to them. Please. It's in your pocket. You have to…trust me…"

"I'd have to be an idiot to trust you," I snapped. "I don't know what's in it for you, but—"

"Get down!" Myez yelled, and he kicked me away so hard and so fast, I fell to the ground and rolled. I stopped rolling and glanced over my shoulder to see the hilt of a dagger—
my
dagger—protruding from his shoulder. Myez cried out and staggered back against the tree, clutching the hilt.

"You never learn, do you?" Lord Cethin approached us like a wraith. "I gave you your power,
Myez Rader
, and I can take it away." He'd sneered Myez's name as he gripped Myez by the throat and lifted him so his toes dangled a few inches from the ground. Myez choked and gasped, the fabric of his cloak stained dark where the blade had penetrated.