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

Stefan looked vexed and it quickly disappeared into a yawn.

I squeezed his shoulder. “Thanks, Stef. I don’t want him going back there, not until I figure out what that was.”

“No pro—” he covered his yawn “—problem.”

“See you soon.” I grinned. “Night.”

“Night.”

He closed the door.

The shadows in the hall had softened. Morning would be here soon. I took one last glance down the dark hall that led to Fleck’s room, and as I walked away, I heard the faintest whispers before they faded into silence.

Chapter 2

The Dark Rider

A
dagger sank into the tree, inches from my face.

I sucked in a cold, sharp breath.

The hilt vibrated from sheer impact as a bead of sweat slid down my temple. That had been close—too close. If I didn’t snap out of it soon, I’d be skewered.

I looked back.

He was poised, crouched and lethal, waiting for my next move. Wanting my next move.

And he was going to get it.

I flexed my fingers around my daggers, adjusting my grip, but right as I pulled back to strike, he vanished. I skidded to a halt and whipped my head around.

Where are you, you little punk?

I wiped my eyes, straining to focus, but my vision blurred into a colorful haze and the world around me began tilting on its axis…or was that me?

A shadow dropped from a branch above and something sharp jarred into my side.  I fell smack on my stomach, knocking all the air out of my lungs.

Stefan stood over me, gloating.

“No—” I heaved “—fair.” I held my stomach as I staggered to my feet, struggling to breathe. Stefan extended his hand to help, but I refused. “You used—”
gasp
“—magic.”

Stefan dropped his hand. “A real opponent won’t refrain from using magic just because you can’t.”

“I know, but—” Another heave.

“No ‘buts’ about it, D. You can’t do magic and everyone else can. Learn to work around it.”

Magic.

That little, innocent word had become the bane of my existence. It was a poison that lingered in the air, killing me slowly with every breath. There was no running from it—it was everywhere, in everything. The people depended on it, the nobles worshipped it, and without it, you were no one—nothing.

Without it, you were helpless.

It was what had separated me from every other person in this world, as if being the granddaughter of a slightly tyrannical king wasn’t separation enough. My grandfather, King Darius Regius, was about as well liked as cancer. And even if they’d excused that biological misfortune, Gaia had decided to finish the job by taking away any ability I’d had to do magic.

I didn’t understand it. I’d been able to do magic when I’d first entered this world— almost six months ago. Without it, I would’ve died, but ever since my dad and the Del Contes had brought me back to the castle, I hadn’t been able to do a thing. There was this giant void; I’d reach out with my mind and my senses would brush against the fringe, but I could get no further. Like there was an invisible wall around me, preventing me from connecting to it, to anything. I couldn’t even get a candle to light, which was slightly irritating in a world without matches and electricity.

“Again.” Stefan stood before me with his sword extended.

My breathing had calmed, but now all the trees were starting to divide. I blinked, and they merged again.

You need to get more sleep, genius.

Stefan’s gaze was steady, and I found myself noticing how similar his eyes were to my—our—dad’s. A blue that was somehow calm and fierce, comforting and severe, and without that balance, without the warmth and gentility, it would be like looking at two shards of ice. Like looking into the eyes of my grandfather, the king.

“You know you can’t keep him here forever.” Stefan lunged.

I deflected and said nothing.

“I’m serious,” he continued. “He doesn’t belong here, D. He’s too dangerous—”

“Dangerous?” I said through clenched teeth, ducking from his jab. “Don’t be an idiot. You’re just repeating what everyone else has said.”
Clank.
“Make up your own mind for once.”

“Everyone else is right,” he said.

I stopped fighting and glared at him. “You didn’t tell the king about last night, did you?”

He clenched his jaw. “No.”

I challenged his gaze; he was telling the truth.

The king had kept keen eyes on Fleck ever since I’d brought him here. Fleck was a Daloren, trademarked by the silver flecks in his eyes, and apparently being a Daloren gave you a sans pareil bond to the wisdom of Gaia, whatever that meant. Regardless, the king had been impatiently waiting for these supposed powers to show themselves in Fleck, and when I’d asked the king why, I’d never gotten a straight answer. Whatever the king’s reasons, it frightened Fleck to tears, which was reason enough for me.

“Maybe if you win the games—” I jumped away from his strike “—you can help Fleck.”

The games.

For the past few months, each of Gaia’s six territories had held local tournaments to pick the best fighter to represent them in this year’s games. The festival games were all anyone had been talking about, because the winner of the games this year would inherit an unusual prize: Lordship over the seventh territory, Pendel—the only territory without a ruler. With all seven lords in place, and the power distributed as it had been intended centuries ago, it meant one thing: King Darius might very well lose his throne.

So, as any power-hungry king would do, King Darius had placed all of his brittle hopes on Stefan, because if Stefan won, the chances of King Darius retaining his self-imposed status increased two-fold.

Little wonder Stefan felt pressured.

Understatement.

“I wouldn’t bet on that,” Stefan said.

Clank.

“You nervous?” I asked.

Stefan wiped his brow. “A little.”

“A little?” I smirked. I might have lost my magical ability, but I could still feel the emotions of those around me. It was an ability only I seemed to possess, having inherited it from my mother. My dad said it was a “gift,” but I found it to be more of a nuisance. Like now, when Stefan’s anxiety was so potent that it was making
me
shake.

Clank
—dodge—
clank
.

“Hey, well, at least if you lose, you’re still the prince of Valdon,” I said, “and the
prince
of Valdon can do whatever he wants.”

“Yeah, but that’s not enough.” His tone dripped with acid, and I knew he was referring to the king.  “Are
you
nervous?”

“About?”

“Tonight.”

Right. The Aegis dinner. Just thinking about it twined my insides into giant knots.

Clank
.

“
He’s
going to be there, you know,” Stefan continued.

I set my jaw. “And?”

Stefan smirked. I was about to wipe that smirk off his face with the butt of my dagger when a stiff breeze ripped through the forest. I glanced up; the trees moaned as they rocked back and forth, their needles rustling against the wind.

The wind always followed me here. At first, Dad had thought the wind elemental, Cian, had taken a liking to me. Both he and the king shared a tie to the elementals—my father with earth, the king with fire—so it wouldn’t have been out of the realm of possibilities that the trait might extend itself to me. However, like magic, after my initial entry into this world, the wind had stopped speaking to me. Instead, it followed at a safe distance, constantly taunting me with its invisible presence.

A rush of energy slammed into me, and I was suddenly thrown back and flung on the cold, hard ground. Thick roots snaked from the earth, wrapped around my ankles and wrists, and held me there.

I tried to rip free, but the binding only tightened. “Stef!” I growled. “Knock it off!”

He frowned over me. “A distracted opponent is not an opponent. Remember that.”

“Thanks for the lesson”—I jerked the vines—“but you can let go now.”

With a wave of his hands, the vines slipped from my wrists and ankles and disappeared beneath the roots of a large tree. Stefan extended his hand to help me up, and this time, I took it.

There was something bothering him, something beyond the tournaments, the games. It was in the lines of his face, the dull spark in his eyes, and the way he kept frowning at me.

“You’re disappointed in me,” I said as he pulled me to my feet.

He sighed and turned away, the breeze lifting a few strands of his golden hair. “I’m not disappointed. I just worry, that’s all. To not be able to do magic, and in this world—” he looked back at me with sad eyes “—it just makes you seem so…fragile.”

I didn’t like that adjective, particularly when it was applied to me.

He was on the ground with my sword at his throat within seconds. He grinned. “Okay, so maybe fragile was the wrong word.”

“Ya think?” I released my hold and he leapt to his feet.

But instead of readying for another round, he walked over to the horses and snagged his cloak from Parsec.

“You’re not going already?” I asked.

He didn’t meet my gaze as he wrapped his cloak around him. “Master Durus needs me to come earlier today.”

Master Durus had suspected our secret training sessions, and he’d usually show his approval by giving Stefan a menial task, like ironing his socks.

“Oh, so you’re on his side now?”

“I’m not on anyone’s side, D; I just have a million things to do before the games this week.”

My anger flared. “You’ve been training every day for months, and these two hours a week are all I get.”

“And you’re lucky for
that
.” He bent over to tighten his boots.

I threw my dagger and it sank into the ground just inches from the boot Stefan was tying. He went rigid and looked back at me. His gaze was hard as he held mine and finally melted with a sigh. “Look.” He stood. “I know it’s difficult for you. I’m sorry, but I’ve got challenges of my own—”

“Like finding a backbone?”

His lips formed a line. “I am not Grandfather.”

I folded my arms. “Yet.”

He held my gaze a moment longer before leaping onto Parsec. “I’ve got to go. See you at dinner.”

He and Parsec left through the trees.

I threw my other dagger, hard. It split the air and sank into the bark with a thud. Calyx shifted beside it and whinnied. For a moment, I stood there staring absently at the hilt, still quivering from shock. In the six months I’d lived here, I’d grown to love Stefan. Sure, I wanted to strangle him at least once a day, and his being a goody-two-shoes made me seem like the devil reincarnate, but he had a good heart. He just…didn’t get it.

No one did, except Fleck.

A sharp
ca-caw
sounded overhead, and I glanced up. There was a giant black bird sitting on a branch with its head cocked to the side, watching me. It blinked and ruffled its feathers with another loud “
ca-caw
!”

It felt familiar, somehow, and something about it tugged at the shadows of a memory…

Movement in my periphery made me turn.

In the shadows, leaning against a tree, was a person. Judging by the physique, it was a man, but beyond that I could tell nothing. From head to toe he was dressed in black, as if he were made of shadow, and when I tried to get a sense of him, all I could feel was cold. As though winter had taken up residence inside of him.

He watched me as I watched him, and with the slightest movement, he slipped deeper into the forest, out of sight.

Calyx’s anxiety rushed through me.

“I’ll be right back,” I whispered, and I grabbed my daggers and ran after him.

My boots crunched over the frozen earth as I searched the shadows. The forest held its breath, the breeze quiet, and there was no sign of the man in black.

I reached the edge of the stream. It was full today, swollen from a few weeks of rain. Most of the boulders were drowning beneath the rushing water, but a few managed to poke their heads above the frothy madness.

A twig above me snapped and the black bird darted to a branch on the other side of the river, right above the man in black, who ducked back into the forest.

Stop running after him! You have no idea who he is. He could be dangerous!

I shoved my daggers in my belt and jumped onto the closest rock.

One foot slipped as I landed, and I waved my arms to balance myself. Once I regained control, I jumped to the next rock and the next, all the way until I was safely on the other side.

Now where?

“Going somewhere, princess?” said a gruff voice behind me.

I stopped in my tracks and spun around. A young man with flaming red hair stepped out from behind a tree. His eyes were filled with a sort of deriding satisfaction, and he was thick, really thick. The kind of thick where his head was shaped like a bowling ball, his arms bowed out from his sides, and his neck was squished in between.

Denn Faris.

I recognized him from the Academia, which wasn’t far from the castle. He was an Aegis in training, and he had a distinct reputation for being a bully.

“You deaf, princess?”

I didn’t have time for this. “What do you want?”

He stepped forward, thumbing the hilt of the dagger strapped to his round waist. “It’s a little dangerous for a princess to be wandering about these parts all by herself—especially when there are rumors of a dark rider in the area.”

Dark rider. Was that what he was called?

“If I were you, I’d be scared.” Denn took another step. “No magic, no possible way to defend yourself against him. So vulnerable and,” his voice dropped, “so alone.”

I did not like where this was going, not one bit. “Save it, Denn,” I growled.

His fat cheeks pinched as he smirked. “Shouldn’t you be at the castle?”

I eyed him up and down. “Shouldn’t you be eating?”

His ears turned a shade of red that matched his hair.

Two more young men emerged from behind the trees—other students from the Academia. I recognized the lanky blond one, Felix Thorne, from the tournaments. I started to back away and bumped into someone.