The Keeper's Flame (A Pandoran Novel, #2) (11 page)

I glanced back at him and grinned. He grinned back, squeezed my hand and let go.

“The world is a lonely place for those who don’t fall in line with its customs,” Danton said. “But know this: The only reason they mock you, the only reason they snicker and stare is because your differences—the very things that set you apart—illuminates their own vapidity. It forces them to look at themselves and think on what they could have been, if they’d had your courage. But people don’t like to do that so, instead, they’ll set their gazes upon you and criticize you for doing what they weren’t brave enough to do.”

His words lingered in the space between us.

I sighed. “Danton, not having magic isn’t what I’d call brave.”

“Actually,” he bent his head, thoughtful, “I would argue that it makes you infinitely more brave, because you are forced to live in a world that relies on nothing else.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks, but…”

“No, I’m serious!” He grinned. “Just think for a moment what would happen if, say, your grandfather didn’t have magic?”

What a happy thought. “Well,” I said, “he probably wouldn’t be king.”

Danton nodded. “What else?”

“Someone else would take over?”

“I mean about your grandfather,” Danton continued.

Hmm. If my grandfather didn’t have magic…

“He’d probably go into hiding until his magic returned and he could make himself king again,” I said.

Danton smiled. “My thoughts exactly. And what are
you
doing?”

“Getting myself grounded?”

He laughed; the sound was light and made me smile.

We were both quiet, then, and the wind rustled around us. But I didn’t feel cold anymore.

“This is your first festival?” Danton asked.

I nodded.

“You picked a fine year.”

I glanced sideways at him; the wind ruffled his blond hair.

“It’s the first year the prize is an entire territory,” he continued.

“What is the prize, usually?”

Danton intertwined his fingers around his knee. “Oh, you know, things like riches and honor and eternal glory,” he said with slight derision, “but never a position of real power.”

“So, why is it different this year?”

“I’m not sure why, exactly, but it has something to do with the year and the planets—” he waved at the sky “—at least according to our grand headmaster.” The spite had returned to his tone. “But Gaia has been without a true king ever since Galahad.”

“Who’s representing your territory?” I asked.

Danton hesitated. “I am.”

Add skilled warrior to the list of his good traits. “Are you nervous?” I asked.

He squinted at the stars and clenched his jaw. “Yes.” He paused, and the muscles in his face relaxed as he glanced back at me. “I won’t take offense should you be cheering for your brother.”

I smiled and we sat there like that, smiling at each other.

What are you doing? You just met the guy!

Embarrassed, I glanced away, feeling his disappointment.

“We should go back,” he said, not showing any outward signs of what he really felt.

As much as I didn’t want to, I knew he was right.

He didn’t offer to help me to my feet, but waited patiently near the hatch in the roof. The two of us wound back down the narrow staircase, down the silent corridors, all the way back to my hall, where a couple of guards stood watch.

Danton saw them and glanced back at me. “Such a threat, you are. Are they always there?”

I rolled my eyes. “Always.”

“That’s unfortunate.” And he sounded like he really meant it. “This is where I’ll leave you, then.”

“Probably a good idea.”

He started to turn when I said, “Danton?”

He glanced back.

“Thank you, uh, for taking me up there, er”—
Stop stuttering!
—“it was…nice.”

Nice?

Great, you have no magic and, apparently, no vocabulary.

Danton’s entire face lifted with his smile. “I enjoyed every moment of it. Perhaps,” he hesitated, “we can do it again, sometime?”

I felt the heat rise to my face. “I’d like that.”

He took my hand and held it to his lips. “Goodnight, Daria.” His lips warmed my fingers, and he slowly let go and retreated back down the hall.

His cloak fluttered behind him as he disappeared down the corridor, walking with the easy confidence of one that hadn’t a care in the world. Not at all like he felt the pressure of the games or the weight of the prize.

You’re still staring at him, doofus.

I headed straight to my room feeling confused and little…guilty. But why should I feel guilty? It wasn’t like anyone had a claim on me or anything. No,
he
obviously didn’t care about me like that. In fact,
he
was supposed to have been here tonight, for the Aegis dinner, and he hadn’t exactly gone searching the halls trying to find me.

Even though I knew I had to get over him, even though it still hurt me to think about him, I couldn’t help but feeling like I was betraying him.

Betraying myself.

****

I was running, hard.

The sun warmed my skin as I breathed in the scent of grass and pine. Sweat beaded on my forehead as I bounded through the green fields.

He wasn’t too much farther; I could see his dark hair ducking into the pine trees.

I sprinted harder, my heart pounding as I rustled through the grasses, and once I finally reached the tree cover I stopped, panting.

Where did he go?

A shadow leapt at my side, knocking me to the ground.

I laughed, trying to wriggle free, trying to gain advantage, but he was too strong. He was always too strong these days.

I slipped my leg around his, but I couldn’t lock him down. I looped my arm through his, but he jerked it free. We tumbled and rolled on the ground until, at last, my arms were pinned behind me, Alex’s knee ground in my back, and one side of my face was shoved into the dirt.

“I’m gonna tell your mom to stop feeding you!” I laughed, gasping for air.

“And I’m going to tell Alaric to start.” There was a smile to his voice.

I groaned as I tried to move, but his grip around my wrists only tightened.

He leaned closer, his breath hot and quick from exertion. “Say it,” he panted.

I made a face and he chuckled, tickling my ear.

“I’m not letting go till you do,” he said and, to emphasize his point, he ground his knee harder into my back.

“Okay, fine,” I grunted. “You win.”

I could almost taste his pleasure.

“Now, that wasn’t so hard”—his lips brushed against my ear—“was it?” He let go of my wrists and removed his knee from my back.

I rolled over onto my back, slowly recouping my oxygen loss, while Alex knelt beside me. His tanned cheeks were bright pink, his dark hair was a curled disaster, and the green in his eyes was so radiant it caught me off guard.

He smiled, and my breath stuck somewhere in my throat. I’d never seen him smile like that before. It was soft and gentle and went beyond his lips, as if drawing every piece of him with it, making me suddenly self-conscious.

I pushed myself to a sitting position and glanced away.

“There’s dirt on your cheek.” He sounded thoroughly amused.

I glared at him and wiped my face on my shirt.

He grinned. “You missed a spot.” He reached out and brushed his fingers along my cheekbone.

My insides filled with a thousand butterflies.

His fingertips lingered there and, after a long moment, he pulled his hand away. “There, that’s better.”

That smile had returned, and this time something warm began overtaking my butterflies.

What is wrong with me?

Uncomfortable, I crawled to my feet and wiped my hair from my face. He didn’t move, but I felt him watching me.

“Any idea what time it is?” I asked.

Alex stood and dusted his jeans. “Probably time for us to head back.”

I couldn’t be sure, but he almost sounded disappointed.

Two birds chirped overhead, fluttering through the air and dancing around each other before darting into a tree.

I faced him. His features had turned guarded and withdrawn, which had been common for him lately. I didn’t like it, either. “You walk in front.”

He smiled, but it failed to touch his eyes. At last, he raked a hand through his dark hair and led the way back.

The breeze rustled through the fields as we walked back to his house, and neither of us spoke. It was a strange silence, too, heavy and apprehensive, as if there were a thousand words just waiting to be said but rendered silent by some invisible barrier.

Why was the wall there? Who had built it?

And, more importantly, where was I when it had happened?

His house came in view and he paused. He didn’t turn to face me; he just stared absently at his home as the wind ruffled the hair around his face.

He wasn’t a little boy anymore. The softness in his face was growing sharper and more defined, and where he’d once been skinny and hollow, rounded muscles were beginning to shape his clothing.

When had that happened?

“You okay?” I whispered.

He blinked and looked at me.

For a split second, I saw everything. The pain, the struggle, the torment and sorrow—all of it lay bare before me. It was gone as fast as it had come, though, and he looked back at his house with a sigh.

“Your dad’s here,” was all he said, and he walked on, away from me.

Chapter 8

Blood Ants

W
hen I woke the next morning, I could still smell the grasses and pine. I could still feel the sun on my skin, feel the breeze in the air, and I could still see Alex’s beautiful face before me.

My chest ached.

It was a memory I’d forgotten, one that had happened years ago sometime right before he had left, and it was strange that I should remember it now. Stranger still that I saw it differently, understood things now that I hadn’t understood back then.

That his distance had been a result of his guilt. That his torture had been a result of his lies, that his silence had been a result of this life.

And that I had loved him even then without knowing it.

At this rate, how could I ever expect to move on? Even my dreams wouldn’t let go.

“Good morning.” Rhea peeked her head in, smiling. “Sleep well?”

I yawned and stretched my arms.

“I’ve a note for you,” she said, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Curious, I took the small, folded paper from her hands. She glanced at my hands and then looked back at me, confused. “I’d expected to see cuts on your fingers,” she said.

“Dant—” I yawned “—on.”

“Ah! Well, I’m glad someone healed them for you.” Her voice turned serious and empathetic. “I’m so sorry about what happened. Your father told me.”

Dad. “Where is he?” I asked.

“Trying to talk sense into your grandfather. He wanted to see you last night, but the king forbade it.”

Of course he did.

“Is Dad talking to him about Fleck?”

She nodded. “Your father trusts King Darius with Fleck’s welfare as much as you do.”

I wasn’t sure if that was comforting or frightening.

Rhea placed a dry hand over mine—her hands were always dry, and had turned more so with the cold weather. “Your father is a good man. He’s doing everything he can for Fleck.”

“Where’s Fleck?” I asked.

“Still in his room surrounded by a small army. Try not to worry too much, yet. The king won’t act until the festival is over and until then, Fleck will most likely remain in his room. There’s still time.” She squeezed my hand.

Time.

Time was the hope of the helpless.

She stood, then. “Speaking of time, best open that.” She gestured toward my note. “I believe it’s time sensitive.” She winked as she smiled, and left.

I glanced down at the paper in my hands. It was stiff and sealed in red wax with a “P” stamped into it. Curious, I lifted the wax and unfolded it.

Daria—

I hope you do not find this untoward, but I am anxious to see you again. I am going for a ride at half-past eight and would be honored by your company. If you’re free and would care to join me, I’ll be waiting in the empty stable in back.

—Danton

Riding.

Just the thought of it excited me.

But it was with Danton.

Thinking about spending time with him after last night’s dream made me feel…confused.

This will help you get over him.

But that meant I’d be using Danton.

You aren’t using him. You like him.

Did I?

Either way, it wasn’t like Danton had asked me out on a date or anything. He was just asking me to ride, and he had clearly been concerned about coming on too strong.

I glanced at the clock. It was ten after already.

I jumped from my bed, threw on my leathers, ran my hands through my hair, and bolted to my door, pausing at my mirror.

I looked like I’d just woken up.

You did just wake up.

With a grunt, I threw open my door and ran down the hall toward Fleck. I needed to check on him, see that he was all right. When I reached his tower, a new set of guards stood at the entrance. Their eyes settled on me as I approached.

“This tower is off-limits,” one of them said. “King’s—”

“—orders,” I finished. “Yeah, I know.”