The Keeper's Flame (A Pandoran Novel, #2) (6 page)

Was he?

“What?” I asked.

Fleck mumbled into my shoulder as his sorrow and fear squeezed my heart. “He…wanted their knowledge and…and…”

I waited, holding him close.

“It killed them,” he whispered.

My breath came quick as my anger bubbled inside of me. All this time, I had thought Fleck’s fears had to do with his past, not his present. But if what he’d said was true, I had delivered Fleck right into the hands of his parents’ murderer.

And then it suddenly hit me, and his fear became my fear, his anxiety mine.

I pulled back and looked into his watery, flecked eyes. “Does he know you, Fleck?” I asked. “Did he recognize you when I brought you here?”

Fleck shook his head. “No. I wasn’t home when he—” he hiccupped “—took them away.”

I grabbed his hands gently but firmly between mine. “I know it hurts and I know it’s painful to remember, but I need to know what happened.” Because if the king knew who he was, and was biding his time to take this so-called knowledge from Fleck, the two of us were running far, far away from here. Today.

I didn’t know how, but I’d find a way.

Fleck swallowed, wiping his tears. He took a deep breath, as if the air might fill him with strength, and he started speaking with a fragile voice. “I was…playing in the woods. We lived there because my parents said it was safe for us there, and one day I came home and they were gone.” He wiped his nose on his sleeve. “My neighbor said the king had found them and he had taken them away, and she looked scared. She told me that the king had wanted their powers and that I’d better come with her to her house before…”

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks, down his chin, dropping onto the floor.

I squeezed his hands, encouraging him to continue.

“When we got there, these men were waiting for us.” His lip trembled. “The lady tried to protect me but they…they…”

“It’s okay, I’m here.”

“She’s dead, lady. She’s dead because she was trying to keep me safe,” he whispered.

“Listen to me,” I said as I blinked back tears. “It’s not your fault. What happened back then—to your parents, that woman—you didn’t kill them. Do you understand?”

He sniffled and looked away, but I placed my hand on his cheek and made him look at me. “You are not responsible for the evil they’ve done.
They
will pay for it, not you.”

And they would. So help me, I’d be there to watch.

I wiped one of his tears. “After that, what happened?”

Fleck swallowed. “They sold me to…to some guards and the guards took me to the caves…”

And that’s where I had found him. That’s where I had found him and brought him straight to the man that had killed his parents.

I held Fleck there at the top of his stairwell, away from everyone and everything, and the anger inside of me grew. He was so innocent, so fragile and good, and it was difficult conceiving that someone like my grandfather, so cruel and selfish a man, could take that away from him. Cloud his bright vision, terrorize his pure thoughts. Take away his home and his family, leaving him helpless and afraid, the bargaining chip of evil men.

All so that he could have more power.

What about when Fleck’s power decided to show? He was Daloren, after all; there was no denying that. It would only be a matter of time before the trait began to manifest itself inside of him, and there would be no hiding, then. My grandfather would look on him as he had looked on Fleck’s parents—as food necessary for consumption.

I had to get him out of here, immediately. But how? I couldn’t just run away—not when I didn’t fully understand what I was up against. I’d already tried that once and it had gotten me locked away with Fleck. No, I needed to talk to someone who knew what to do—someone I could trust.

Someone that could take Fleck away from that tyrant, the king, and hide him somewhere safe.

I wish Tran were here. He’d know what to do.

But he wasn’t. I didn’t know where he was. But then another name entered my mind.

Don’t even think about it.

Yes, Dad and the Del Contes were at the Aegis Quarters and the king and Stefan were preoccupied with festival preparations…

But what if you’re caught?

If I had a good disguise, no one would notice, and besides, it would only be for a few hours—just in time for the Aegis dinner tonight.

No! It’s too dangerous!

The solution slammed into me and I turned to Fleck.

“Do you trust Master Antoni?” I asked.

Fleck nodded.

I searched his large eyes. “Do you trust him with your life?”

Fleck held my gaze as understanding slowly seeped into his mind. At last he nodded, and I felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Good, because he’s going to help us.”

“But, lady, he’s at the guild.” His voice was already stronger. We’ll never make it through the gate without getting caught.”

I looked him straight in the eyes. “We can’t, but Thad can.”

Chapter 5

Promises Kept

“W
here’s Thad?” I asked Rhea once Fleck and I walked into my room.

Rhea emerged from my bathroom with a neatly folded stack of towels in her hands. Her kind eyes glanced between us and, sensing something was up, she set the towels on my dresser, right next to a glass bowl holding a bright red flower.

The flower that Alex had given me—Ardor’s flame.

I’d never been able to bring myself to get rid of it. Rhea knew it, too.

Rhea clasped her hands and faced us, looking worried. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, but we need to find Thad.”

She studied me a moment. “He was here just a bit ago, looking for you.” She walked over to my window. The sky outside was dark and grey, but the snow had stopped falling. She tugged my draperies closed. “He went down to Rook’s Landing with some recent Aegis grads that are visiting for the festival.”

Oh, no. What if Alex was there? It would be very hard seeing him again, but it would be harder still sneaking away. He knew me too well. “Where’s that?” I asked.

Rhea turned to face us. “The marketplace. On your left, you’ll see a sign with a black crow right before The Pointed Needle, but if you reach Papyrus and Tomes, you’ve gone too far.”

I nodded. I’d never spent much time in the marketplace since I’d lived here, mostly because when I went, everyone glared at me.

“One more thing—” Rhea opened my armoire and pulled out two cloaks “—wear these. It’s quite chilly and it’s better if no one recognizes you.” She handed them to us.

I helped Fleck into one, but it was so huge I had to wrap it all the way around him and tie it in the back. He pulled the hood over his head, but it fell down over his eyes all the way to his nose. “Er, maybe don’t wear the hood,” I said.

“No, it’s okay.” He pushed the hood up and grinned his toothy grin. “I can see okay.” The hood slipped back down his nose. “Well, sort of.”

“It’ll have to do,” Rhea said with understanding in her eyes. “You don’t have much time.”

I shrugged into my cloak and clasped it at my neck. “Thanks, Rhea.”

She smiled and walked back to the dresser to pick up the towels.

Fleck and I headed to the door when Rhea said, “Oh, and Daria.”

I glanced back.

“Don’t worry. He’s not with them.” She gave me a knowing smile, and I smiled back, closing the door after me.

So, he wasn’t with them.

I wonder where he is, then?

But I couldn’t let myself think about him. I’d see him tonight, and like my dad had warned and Isla had confirmed, he’d be with Vera. He was probably with her now. The thought made my chest feel heavy.

Fleck and I left the castle without attracting much notice for once. Everyone was preoccupied with the upcoming festival; servants rushed past without a glance—one even ran smack into a marble bust, which I saved right before it crashed to the floor. The servant hadn’t even noticed and disappeared behind a swinging door.

The air outside was freezing, even more so than it had been this morning. It burned my lungs and every time I exhaled, vapor streamed from my nose. Fleck bounced beside me, his hand in mine, as we walked down the snow-dusted hill toward the marketplace. He took big, deep breaths, and every time he exhaled, he smiled in admiration of his breath-cloud.

“It’s like dragon’s breath!” He breathed out a plume of condensation.

“Without the dragon.” I grinned. “My favorite kind.”

I’d only seen dragons once, and it had taken all of two seconds to decide I didn’t like them.

Off to my left, I could see the arena. It’d come a long way in only a few days. I’d been able to catch some glimpses of it as Stefan and I had set out for our morning skirmishes. According to Stefan, they’d been building the giant wooden structure just for this week’s games and would tear it down once they were over.

The structure was enormous and I thought it could probably hold Gaia’s entire population. It was tall, too, taller than the castle even, and rising at regular intervals along the perimeter were seven tall towers, each decorated with a different color scheme. Green, orange, red, blue, silver, black, and brown. Stefan had said each colorful tower corresponded to a different territory, but the only combinations I remembered were Valdon’s green and Alioth’s orange.

I hoped Rhea was right about Alex.

The noise and bustle of the marketplace grew louder and louder the closer we came, and it was much busier than I’d remembered. Everywhere I looked were people and animals and tents, and there was an edible quality to the air. Cooked meats and seasonings, baked bread and wood smoke. I inhaled deeply, letting the scents tease my tongue.

The marketplace had become colorful, too, just like the arena. Flags and banners hung from windows, spanning the spaces between buildings, proclaiming their allegiance to this territory or that. It was beautiful in an “old world” sort of way, and the way the snow piled in the cracks, on chimneys and rooftops, reminded me of Christmas.

Come to think of it, it’s already November and I haven’t seen a Christmas tree anywhere. Maybe they celebrate the festival instead.

“Move it!” yelled someone pushing a wheelbarrow filled with hunks of wood.

I yanked Fleck back, and the man glared as he pushed past.

Not a minute in the marketplace without someone glaring at me. Now, where was Rook’s Landing?

I glanced down at Fleck, whose head was tilted far back in his hood, trying to see. I grinned. “You all right?”

He pushed his hood up and smiled, and his hood fell down again.

I squeezed his hand and pulled him into the melee. Rhea had said to go left, so we turned left, right into a team of beautiful white horses. I jerked Fleck back, out of their way, letting them pass. The horses were statuesque, trotting tall and proud as if perceiving their own elegance. White manes fell to one side like a sheet of silk, undisturbed by the slight breeze.

But the riders intrigued me even more.

They were dressed all in black, each with a cascade of long silvery hair, and their faces were sharp, giving a certain shrewdness to their elegance. They moved as one, unaffected and confident as though they were from another time and place entirely. As though they carried the wisdom and power of the past.

One glanced down at me with striking violet eyes.

His curiosity fell upon me like the softest touch, and then he glanced at Fleck. His face was without expression, without feeling or opinion, and with a last glance at me, he continued after his companions as the crowd parted for them.

“Lady, who were they?” Fleck gaped after them.

I shook my head. “No idea. Let’s keep moving.”

I didn’t want anyone knowing we were here, and I didn’t like the fact that someone already did.

“Authentic tapestries from the festivals!” someone shouted. “Get one before they’re gone!”

We passed a few racks covered in tapestries, each with different patterns: mountains, a lake, a small castle.

“For you, just two quids.” A little man appeared, with no hair and stubble all over his round face.

“No, thanks.” I hurried away and pulled Fleck after me.

Shop after shop, I searched the signs, looking for one that said The Pointed Needle.

Ferven’s Swordmakers, Apothecarie…

I paused at a window display of compasses. Round and square, shiny and dull, some the size of my thumb, others the size of my head. There was one, lying on a small wooden block, that looked very similar to the one I’d seen Cicero carry when we’d been winding our way through the Arborenne. This one was smaller, but it had the same strange symbols around the perimeter.

I glanced up at the sign overhead.

The Broken Compass.

Strange name for a store. Why would anyone want broken…

The symbol. I’d barely noticed it in the bottom right corner, etched faintly in the wood. Two triangles framing a small circle—the same symbol I’d seen on the neck of those guards at Rex Cross months ago, the guards who had been searching for me.

“Can I help ye, miss?” asked a gruff voice. A stocky, brutish man appeared with a long pipe hanging from his mouth. He removed the pipe and blew the tobacco fumes in my face.

I coughed a, “No, thanks,” and pulled Fleck after me. I felt the man’s eyes on my back as we wound through the crowd.

My skin turned cold and I froze mid-stride.

There he was, the dark rider.

He stood in the shadows, and I felt him like winter—the one that existed inside of him. No one else seemed to notice him; no one paused as they bustled past, yet he stood there, watching me.

What was he doing here?

Just look the other way.

But if I was safe to approach him anywhere, it would be here, surrounded by hundreds of people. I could ask him what he wanted, why he kept watching me, and if he tried anything at all, all I’d have to do is scream.

Don’t even think about it.

“What is it, lady?” Fleck asked.