The Keeper's Flame (A Pandoran Novel, #2) (27 page)

BOOK: The Keeper's Flame (A Pandoran Novel, #2)
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I couldn’t help but feel a sharp sense of satisfaction.

Denn met my gaze; I saw pure hatred in his before he glanced away.

“He said it’d be safe!” one yelled.

“King Darius is trying to scare us into letting him keep his seat on the throne,” said another.

“I knew she had magic,” said another.

“Look, there she is now!” shouted one. “Ask her!”

The crowd turned their attention to me, voicing their assent, the sound rising louder and louder. I saw Cicero and Sonya standing near Brant and his crew, trying to calm everyone down, but everyone would not be calmed. Not until there was a bellowing, “Silence!”

Master Durus stood in the doorway, arms folded over his broad chest.

“Let the princess through,” King Darius said from the front. The headmaster stood right beside him.

The crowd parted for me, glaring and grumbling as I passed all the lords, most of their Aegises, Vera and her people—all of them glowering at me as if given the chance, they’d kill me without a second thought.

Dad and Alex stood on either side of me with Cicero and Sonya following closely behind, like a protective barrier between them and me.

We reached the front of the room where the shield and stone and iron bowls stood on display. The fires still burned in each. Mine was at the far end, beside Pendel’s bowl, and I almost thought my flame burned a little taller.

The king looked at me as though he’d taken every ounce of the fire he’d contained in the arena, brought it into this room, and was about to throw it at me.

He looked back at the crowd. “You were saying, Lord Commodus?”

Lord Commodus stepped forward, his features darkened. “I didn’t want to believe the rumors, my king.”

King Darius’s eyes narrowed. “Which
rumors
, Commodus?”

Lord Commodus smiled sardonically and pointed to the side.

Confused, I followed his finger to the last bowl—Pendel’s bowl.

There was a flame burning inside of it.

“That you’ve been concealing her power,” Lord Commodus whispered.

But how could that be? In order for there to be a flame, there had to be either a contestant or a winner, and since there was neither…

A shadow passed over the king’s face. “You aren’t suggesting that
I
had something to do with that.” The candles in the room flickered.

Lord Commodus glared at me. “Perhaps the princess can help explain it to us.”

The crowd gaped at me and the king’s fury bubbled.

“What?” I whispered. “But I didn’t…”

“The guards,” Lord Commodus cut me off, “have sworn the flame appeared sometime during your…battle.”

Anger seethed from the crowd, and their whispering simmered.

“But I swear, I didn’t—“

“Liar!” shouted someone from the crowd.

“She set the dragons on us!” a tall, blonde woman yelled. “I saw her!”

The crowd suddenly decided they’d seen it, too, and started throwing insults again.

“That wasn’t me…” I said. “That was the dark rider.”

The crowd went silent.

The king stared at me as his eyes narrowed. “What did you say?”

The room waited.

I swallowed. “I saw him standing up in the stands right before it happened.”

An ugly sneer twitched at Lord Commodus’s lips. “How convenient. You…the only person in the entire arena that saw him.”

“Commodus…” my dad growled beside me.

Lord Commodus observed me a moment with a smirk and stood back.

“Maybe she did see him,” yelled a man from the back. “Maybe she’s working with him.”

“What?” I gasped. “I’m not—”

“That’s ridiculous—” started my dad, but our voices were lost in those of the crowd.

“Silence!” the king shouted. His fury wafted through the air like fire, and the chatter ceased at once. “My granddaughter is not working with the dark rider, nor is she the cause of all of this. I suggest”—his voice dropped to a frightening whisper—“you come up with a better solution.”

“Well, we can’t continue the games, now,” Lord Tosca’s voice boomed. “The arena’s destroyed.”

The crowd erupted in vicious insults again, and the doors to the assembly hall burst open with a loud crash.

Tran stood in the doorway. His white hair hung long over his wool layers and he was holding a knotted, wooden staff in his hand, looking very much like a wizard.

The silence in the room was palpable.

With sure steps, Tran walked forward, his staff tap-tap-tapping along the way.

“It can’t be,” someone whispered as he passed.

Tran’s clear blue eyes flickered to me and he winked, and then stopped before the king.

The king, however, looked as though he’d seen a ghost. “You…traitor.”

The candles in the room dimmed and sparked.

Tran smiled. “Come, now, Darius, you know better.”

The king’s inhale was sharp.

Tran observed the room—the shield and its pieces, the stone, each of the seven iron bowls, and his eyes lingered on the seventh. “Curious,” he said, scratching his long, white beard.

“What do you want here?” hissed the king. The air pulsed with heat.

Tran didn’t seem to notice and turned to the king with his hands clasped over his staff. “I warned you this day would come.”

The king’s cold eyes narrowed. “The day I would finally arrest you for your treason?”

Tran smiled. “No, no, I don’t fancy your dungeons much. Too many blood ants.” He scratched his arms as though he’d been bitten. He leaned forward, eyes fixed on the king. “What I’m referring to is the past.”

King Darius’s dirtied cheeks turned red. “The past is done.”

Tran arched a bushy white brow and held up a bony finger. “Ah, but the past is never done, my lord. It’s the foundation by which you have built your empire”—he waved his hand to the room—“but you were too hasty, Darius. The earth had fractured and rather than find out why, you hurried to patch it up, build over it in hopes that no one would see the dark abyss beneath you. It was only a matter of time before the strain was too much, the pressure too great, before everything you spent your entire life building collapsed.”

The king’s fury burned murderously.

Tran faced the crowd, and their cumulative fear matched his power.

“The games cannot stop,” Tran said. “They can never stop once started—not when the power of the unity stone has been invoked.” He stared absently at the stone, hovering there, pulsing with bright light and energy.

“But the arena has been destroyed!” someone shouted.

Tran looked back at the crowd. “I know very well what has happened to the arena, but it does not matter. I tell you that the shadowguard has returned—” the room erupted in gasps and exclamations “—and, as we speak, they are growing stronger, moving closer, positioning themselves to attack. You must retrieve the power of the stone, or you will not stand a chance against them.” His voice dropped. “Not this time.”

The people shouted in anger and disbelief.

“If what you say is true,” said the scantily clad blonde woman standing beside Vera, “then who is leading them?”

Tran sighed heavily, his eyes lingering on me. “Eris Mordryck Regius.”

Eris. The man in the mirror, in the painting—in my dreams. He really was alive.

The king extended a trembling hand, eyes wild. “You…you lie… Seize him!”

The guards pushed and shoved through the crowd, towards Tran, but Tran shook his head, looking very, very sad. The guards were just a few feet away when Tran flicked his wrist and vanished into thin air.

 

****

 

“You’ve really done it this time,” Stefan said, pacing behind my couch, but he wasn’t really pacing. More like stumbling along, back and forth, tripping over his melon-sized foot.

I lifted my face from my hands. “Done what?”

“I mean, it was scary enough watching you compete in the arena, but then you had to go and destroy it.”

I made a face. “Stef, maybe you’ve forgotten already, but it was destroyed by a bunch of fire dragons.”

“Yes, but they only came to life when you were fighting.”

I growled and put my face back in my hands, and Egan curled up and whimpered at my feet.

“Goldilocks has a point there, ya know,” Thad said. “Someone obviously wants you dead.”

I glared. “Come to think of it, weren’t
you
the one that promised me I’d be perfectly safe with thousands of people watching?” I waved my arms in the air.

“You’re still alive, aren’t you?” Thad replied.

“Thanks for the boost of confidence.”

Thad smirked. “Hey, I’m here to please.”

Ever since the arena had been destroyed, those of power had locked themselves behind closed doors, trying to agree on our fate. The result? Stefan, Thad, Egan, and I had been waiting in my room for hours.

“Excellent fighting, by the way,” Thad piped in. “Before those statues came to life, I thought for sure one of those giant lizards was going to tear you in half.”

I glared at Thad, and he laughed.

“This shadowguard,” I said, “is it really as dangerous as they say?”

Thad chewed on his piece of grass, and Stefan stared absently at the window. “Worse.”

“How?” I asked.

Stefan went back to stumbling behind the couch.

“They’re also known as the dark army,” Thad said. “They used dark magic and left darkness everywhere they went. Gaia was lucky to get rid of them the first time, when the dark rider disappeared.”

“Okay,” I said, “but the dark rider is back, and apparently they’re not following him.”

“Right,” Stefan said, tugging at his hair again. “They’re
all
following Eris, which is a thousand times worse.”

“Wait,” I said. “You know about Eris?”

Stefan’s wide eyes looked at me as he swallowed, and then he looked away. I glanced at Thad, who had taken to whistling and swinging his legs.

“How do
you
know about Eris?” I demanded.

Stefan scratched his head. “By accident, really. Some old books I’d found when I was younger. I’d asked Father about it, but he wouldn’t say much—just that, er, Eris was a lost brother and it was too difficult for him to talk about him. Grandfather had the books burned after that.”

“Anything else you’ve
conveniently
forgotten to mention?” I asked.

“No, honestly, D. From what I saw, everyone loved Eris. He was handsome and clever and witty—the king’s favorite, according to some. But I could never find out more than that because no one would talk about him, and then the king forbade me from saying another word.”

Of course he had.

“So the dark rider is working for him, too?” I looked between Thad and Stefan.

Stefan scratched his chin. “Sure seems that way.”

“I guess that answers one question.” I looked at Thad. “Eris isn’t good.”

Thad made a strange face and then shrugged, chewing on his grass.

“And that’s what Tran meant,” I continued. “If Eris really is back, and if he’s powerful enough to command the shadowguard and dark rider, we need the power of the stone to beat him.”

Neither said a word, but Stefan was looking increasingly insane with worry.

“So, with the arena destroyed, what do you think they’re going to do about the games?” I asked.

Stefan shook his head. “No idea. Nothing like this has ever happened before…by the way, how
did
you kill that dragon without magic?” He stopped pacing and stared at me.

“Just an idea from something I did at Alex’s once.”

I felt Thad’s amusement and glared him into keeping silent.

“Which was?” Stefan asked.

“We were making something in the kitchen, and I poured cold water into a hot pie plate and it shattered. The statues were hot, so I thought maybe I could use that fire and ice stuff—well, just the ice part.”

Stefan grinned and I thought he looked a little proud, but then the smile quickly faded and he went back to a stumbling pace with a worried look on his face.

He stopped suddenly before Thad. “You know,” Stefan said, lips tight, “she wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t talked her into it.”

“Stef, please…” I started.

“It’s okay, Rook.” Thad smirked. “Goldilocks is just being protective.”

Stefan looked as though he’d taken that as a challenge. “Someone has to be with you around.”

Thad observed Stefan a moment, the grass lolling between his lips. “You’re right,” Thad said at last. “Because if she’d been left in your care, she probably would’ve tried sneaking out of the castle with Fleck and would be dead by now.”

Stefan’s eyes narrowed. “You just—”

The tall clock in my room chimed loudly.

“It’s one in the morning!” Stefan exclaimed.

Thad pulled the piece of grass from his mouth and stood. “Well, I for one need to get some beauty rest.” He stretched and yawned. “All this excitement is going to give me bags under my eyes, and, I’m sorry, Rook, but—” he placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed “—as much as I like you, I can’t risk my charm for you.”

I rolled my eyes. “I would be insulted if you did.”

Thad winked. “I knew you’d understand.” He turned to Egan. “Egan, come!”

Egan dropped his ears and inched closer to me.

“Now, Egan.”

Egan ducked behind my legs.

“What’d you do to him?” I asked.

“Nothing.” Thad shook his head. “He just hates the snow.”

“Isn’t he sorta built for it?” I asked.

“Yeah, but when he was a pup, a tree branch dumped a pile of snow on top of him and he’s never been the same since.”

I laughed. “He can stay here.”

Egan’s ears perked and he started licking my hand.

“Traitor.” Thad shook his head again, grinning. “Naw, Egan needs to come with me. Now.” His last word was firm.

Egan dropped his tail between his legs and slunk over to Thad, and the two of them headed for my door.

“Eh, Goldilocks…?” Thad looked expectantly at Stefan.

Stefan looked between us like he was lost. “Oh,” he said at last. “Right. I should probably let you get some rest.”

I almost told him to stay, at least until Dad returned. I didn’t want to be alone right now, not after everything that had happened, and I’d be lying to myself if I didn’t say I was afraid. Afraid of what I’d gotten myself into, afraid of this evil Tran had mentioned. Afraid of Eris.

BOOK: The Keeper's Flame (A Pandoran Novel, #2)
13.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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