Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4)

by Barbara Kloss

  "Give up yet?" Tiernan taunted.

  Dark smoke filled the stables, making it harder and harder to see. My eyes burned from smoke and my entire body ached, and then the support beam groaned.

  I clambered on to the stallion, gripped his mane and kicked him hard in the ribs. He brayed and reared, not wanting to run and trying to throw me off. A loud crack split through the support beam and the ceiling above swayed. I cursed and kicked my horse in the ribs again, harder this time as I pressed silent thoughts to him.

  Run. You have to run or we'll both be dead. I can protect you from the fire, but you have to run!

  With my next kick, the horse finally planted his front hooves on the ground and exploded through the stable with me on his back. I gripped harder and focused, drawing the wind toward us, pulling it through every crack and open space, hugging it around us like a fire blanket. My heart pounded and my palms turned slick with sweat, and I readjusted my grip on his mane to keep from sliding off as he bolted down the lane, straight at Tiernan.

  Tiernan stood between the exit and us, his eyes huge and raging. He opened his palm, preparing to strike me down when another loud, splintering crack cut through the sound of the flames. It was all the distraction we needed as we galloped straight at him, fire curling all around us as if we were some demon horse and rider running right out of hell. The back wall of the stables gave out with a loud crash, the beams inside fractured and the roof collapsed.

  My horse and I burst through the main door seconds before the lintel smashed down on our heads. There was another crash, much larger than the first, and I glanced over my shoulder to see the stables crumbling to the ground as though it were a great ship being swallowed by an ocean of fire. The sky was alight with flaming tentacles, reaching and stretching and yawning now that it was free. The horses still inside shrieked and squealed, filling the night with the horrible sounds of their deaths. I gripped my stallion's mane harder while fighting back tears. All those poor horses. Yells and hollers suddenly echoed from far behind me, jerking me out of my despair. I led my horse in the opposite direction, the pair of us galloping away from the estate.

  The snow fell harder, swarming around us as we ran. I wasn’t accustomed to riding bareback, and my fingers already ached from clutching my horse's mane so tightly. And then there was the magic. Using so much of it and in such a short amount of time was catching up with me fast. My legs and arms had turned to lead, and I sagged forward, struggling to stay on. My eyes started closing, and I blinked and shook my head, trying to force myself awake. Now was not the time to be falling asleep.

  The road veered left, and up ahead I noticed the stone bridge Danton and I had crossed just last night. But we'd turned off the road right after the bridge, and tonight I would be staying on it because he'd said it ultimately led out of Orindor. The black river roared the closer we came, drowning out my horse's gallop. We ran over the bridge and landed on the opposite bank when a shadow blurred from my right. My horse whinnied and reared, my slick fingers lost purchase, and I slid from my horse's back, landing hard on my tailbone. Snow and grit bit into my palms, and then a strong grip grabbed hold of my arms.

  19

  DARIA

  It was Danton, and he did not look very happy to see me.

  There was no way he could've known what had just happened, but he was probably putting it together right then. It wouldn't take him long. One look at me would tell anyone I was a fugitive on the run.

  "What are you doing out here?" I jerked my arm away from him, but he only squeezed harder.

  He looked me over, taking in the mess of my charred cloak and dirty clothes, and between all the fighting and rolling through dirt and hay, there was no telling what my face looked like. "I was on my way into town and heard someone coming." He sniffed at the air. "Why do you smell like a bonfire?"

  "Why don't you ask your uncle?" I snapped.

  His face turned stone cold.

  "He killed Isla!" I screamed at him. "I was standing right there, Danton, and I heard her screams and I watched your uncle suck the life out of her. Is that what you wanted?"

  Danton looked like a ghost of himself, his certainty wavering like a reed in the wind. "Where is he now?"

  "I don't know," I said through clenched teeth. "I left him in your stables that he tried burning down with me inside!"

  His gaze slid past me, in the direction of his home, as if he were looking for the solution out there.

  "Danton, you have to let me go! I have to stop this!"

  He jerked me so close our breaths mingled. "You? What can you possibly do to hold this back? To hold anything back? This is greater than you and me, Daria. It always has been. We have to survive it. That's all we're ever able to do—survive. Come back with me." He squeezed my arm tighter. "I can protect you—"

  "When are you going to get it, Danton? You can't! He came here, to your home to take me back to Eris, and your father let him! If you really meant to protect me, you'd let me get the hell away from here."

  His jaw worked as he held me there, my face mere inches from his. "But where would you go?"

  I wasn't headed toward a place. I was headed toward a person, and by the look in his eyes, I knew he'd just figured it out.

  His features steeled. "You can't defeat them, Daria. Not even with his help."

  I stared straight into those hard Pontefract eyes. "Then. Help. Us."

  "You know I can't."

  "Is that your answer, or your father's?"

  His lips thinned.

  "Danton, just yesterday you told me how I help you realize there's another way. How you feared you'd lost the piece of yourself that was good and honest, and somehow I'd given you hope that that man was still alive, deep down inside of you." I searched his eyes. His expression was unreadable, but I knew my words had penetrated. I could feel the turmoil building inside of him. "You wanted to be a better man and set yourself apart from your father. Well, here's your chance, Danton. Come with me," I pleaded. "Help us save the people of this world before it's too late."

  He stood so close, paralyzed with indecision. He had me. He knew he had me, and he knew I knew it too. I couldn't fight him; I was too weak. And if he so chose, I would be escorted straight back to his home, and now that my secret was out, there was no way I'd ever escape. I'd probably be thrown in the dungeons this time, with magic-binding cuffs as a permanent accessory.

  His jaw worked again as I felt flashes of emotion: anger, bitterness, resentment. But there was also something else, something softer and warmer, slowly smothering the others until at last he sighed and dropped his head as if it were suddenly too heavy to hold up. He released his grip on me and his arm fell limply to his side. "Go." He sounded so weary, so…defeated.

  The wind ruffled his blond hair, but the rest of him was still. At first I thought I hadn't heard right, but when he made no move to escort me back to his father, I knew he was really letting me go. But…

  "You won't…come?" I whispered.

  His shoulders rose and fell with a breath, and he gazed back at me. He looked as though he'd just lost the only thing that had ever mattered to him, and it made my heart hurt a little. "It's…better if I stay here and divert them from your trail," he said.

  I understood and was grateful, but I was also surprised by how much I'd hoped he'd come with me, and by how much it pained me to see him like this. Without thinking, I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, right near his mouth. When I pulled back, his eyes followed me, surprised and unsure.

  "Thank you," I whispered, pressing my palm to his cheek. "If we come out of this war alive, I will not forget you or all you've done for me. I swear it on my life."

  His chest expanded with a deep breath while his gaze remained fastened on mine. He grabbed my hand from his face and pulled it down so our hands rested in the space between us, and he didn't let go. "Don't go through town. When you reach the split, veer left. That will take you away from Bristol, and no telling who might recognize
you there. A few miles after the split, you'll come upon an obelisk. It marks an old path no one remembers and no one uses anymore. Follow it north, and it will take you safely to the Olde Road and you…you can be on your way. And here…" He released my hand to grab something from his horse's saddle, and then he handed it to me. "Take this."

  It was a sword and sheath, and a very nice one at that.

  "It's all right," he said, noting my hesitation. "I've got plenty more, and you need this more than I do at the moment. I'd give you my saddle as well, but that may earn me a few unwanted questions." A thought struck him, and he tugged off his gloves. "Take these too."

  I took the sword and gloves from his hands, and an overwhelming sense of guilt swelled inside of me. I glanced up to find him watching me. His gaze filled with tenderness as it floated down to my mouth and back up to my eyes.

  "Danton…thank you," I whispered, hoping he could hear how much all of this meant to me.

  He leaned forward a little, and I thought he was about to kiss me, but he didn't. Instead he stepped back, and in a whirl of wool and snow, he leapt into the saddle of his horse. He stared in the direction of his home, his expression resolved, while clouds of warm air rose from both his and his horse's nostrils. He led his horse a few paces in the direction of his home, then paused to glance back at me. "Daria…" His eyes flickered over my face with the brush of affection. "Be careful." He gave his horse a swift kick and galloped off toward his home, and he didn't look back again.

  The snow fell harder, burying the road beneath it. Thankfully, there were huge pines to guide us, and our path became a river of white, twisting and turning between the trees, rising and falling with the landscape. The snow softened the punch of our gallop, pattering out muffled thump-thump-thumps. There were no other travelers on the road. No, I was the only one crazy enough to be riding in this weather, but I was also probably the only one being hunted in it.

  My horse knew the road, anticipating turns and sweeps without hesitation or guidance. My hands ached from clutching his mane so tightly, but I was thankful Danton had given me gloves. The wind was so frigid my fingers definitely would've suffered from frostbite.

  Just as Danton had said, it wasn't long before the white river split in two. The trail of snow leading left was much narrower than the one leading right, but, according to Danton, the narrow trail was the one I needed to take. My painted stallion, however, pulled toward the wider path—the one I assumed led straight to Bristol—so this time I intervened. He tugged away, insistent on the main path, but I didn't relent until my horse, albeit begrudgingly, followed my lead and galloped on down the narrow path.

  The shadows were darker here, and the trees pressed closer to the path, looming on either side of us like great walls of pine. The trees blocked most of the wind and snow, so our tread sounded unusually loud in the stillness of the forest. A crow cawed in the distance, startled from its quietude by our tread, and in a whip of air and sprinkling of snow, it took off deeper into the forest. Once we'd gone a few miles, I slowed the stallion to a trot and peeked over my shoulder. All I could see were the looming black shadows of the trees with a seam of white snaking through to where it was swallowed by darkness. I felt alone and a little afraid out here in the dark without any real idea where I was, but at least no one followed us—not yet, anyway. Something drew my attention back to the trail, in the direction we were headed, and a cold unease crawled up my spine. The air felt suddenly…colder, and the forest fell quiet and still. My horse's ears twitched, and then he stopped short with a snort.

  "What is it, boy?" I asked, rubbing his neck. His head nodded and he started walking in reverse.

  I squinted up ahead, farther down the trail, but I couldn't see anything beyond the darkness. My horse took another step back, and I squeezed his body with my legs. "Hold on…" Using my senses, I did a quick sweep of the darkness ahead, but all I felt in all directions was ice cold. I shivered and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "There's nothing up there," I spoke to the horse, though I said it more to convince myself.

  The horse whinnied in disagreement, still forcing a retreat. That's when I noticed the obelisk to my right, nestled between two huge pines.

  I dismounted and landed in the snow with a soft thud, then guided my horse toward the obelisk. The symbols on the obelisk were smeared by weather and abandonment, and there were pocks and holes in places—probably from birds—making the carvings bleed together in many places. I tugged off one glove, and the wind bit at my fingers as I reached out to touch the obelisk. I ran my fingers over the strange symbols, and was surprised to find the stone warm. The obelisk pulsed with it, soft and subtle as though there were a fire inside of it, and then I realized the snow didn't touch its base. It covered the ground everywhere else but stopped a few inches away from the obelisk, leaving a ring of dark earth exposed. I didn't think anything forgotten should be warm like this, but I didn't know enough about the obelisk to know what it meant. Danton had only said it would mark a hidden path, and that information had seemed sufficient at the time. He wouldn't lead me into a trap, would he?

  My horse whinnied, drawing my attention back to the narrow road behind us. The shadows seemed even darker than before, and my nose and throat burned from the cold. I made another sweep with my senses, but I still couldn't find anything. I rubbed my horse's nose, our breaths mingling in the air. "I don't like it either," I whispered, thankful I wasn't completely alone out here, even if my only companion was a horse. "Let's try to find this trail of Danton's, okay? And then I promise we can rest once I find a good spot."

  The horse snorted, but he didn't resist as I led him farther into the trees and away from the road. I thought about using magic to make a light so I could see the trail, but something kept me from doing it. We could hide in the darkness, but even the smallest of lights in this forest would be like lighting a beacon, and for some reason, I didn't think the crows were the only creatures out here with me. Come to think of it, I hadn't heard one in a while.

  After a few minutes of searching in the dark and snow, I was fairly confident I'd found the trail. It wasn't much wider than a walking path. Due to years of neglect, the underbrush had almost taken over, but we were able to navigate it all right, considering. I walked side by side with my horse in the dark. The snow wasn't very deep beneath the trees, and walking helped keep my blood moving. Danton hadn't mentioned how long this trail went before reaching the Olde Road, and I hadn't thought to ask. I had been too concerned with getting the heck out of there. If I remembered where Bristol was in relation to the main roads, it should be a solid day of walking for my horse and me—at least at this pace. Even so, I knew I needed to find a place to rest for a few hours, and soon, or I'd collapse in the middle of this trail. I was exhausted from everything that had happened, and if I met any enemies at this point, I was as good as dead.

  It was about an hour before I found the right place. By that time, I'd taken to holding on to my horse more for support than for guidance, and more than once his soft snort in my ear startled my head from its involuntary droop. I wished I knew his name. He was risking a lot for me, and I didn't even know what to call him. Finally, we came to a small outcropping of snow-covered boulders and thick underbrush that would do the job perfectly. I didn't think I could walk another ten yards, anyway.

  I led my horse off the trail and we navigated the huge boulders and shrubbery. We moved slowly, though, because neither of us could afford to make a misstep and twist an ankle right now. I came across a depression in the snow, nestled between two pines, and a little more protected from the cold. Very carefully, I led my horse down with me and under the cover of trees. He shifted on his hooves, clearly unhappy with my choice.

  "Sorry, boy," I said. "But this is better than collapsing in the middle of the trail."

  He made a little grunting sound deep in his throat as he dug at the ground.

  "No fire. I can't risk it."

  He nudged my hand with his nose.r />
  "I'm sorry, but it's too dangerous. We still don't know if there's anyone out here or not."

  He made a snort that sounded very much like a harrumph.

  I rubbed his nose. "I don’t need a lot of time. I promise. Wake me if you hear anything?"

  He stomped a hoof and turned away from me to nibble on snow. I hunkered down in the crevice, curled up into a ball and pulled my cloak tighter. Now that I was lying down, my body felt as though it were sinking into the ground, joint by joint. My lids were lead, and the last thing I remembered was my horse playing tug of war with a berry holding resolutely to its branch.

  My eyelids snapped open. I couldn't hear…anything. Not even the wind. I glanced up to where I'd last seen my horse tugging at a berry, but he wasn't standing there any more. In fact, I couldn’t see him standing anywhere.

  My heart pumped faster as I sat up, senses on high alert while I reached for the hilt of my dagger. The brooch at my throat suddenly burned hot, and the back of my neck prickled as my hair stood on end. Someone was out here with me, and it wasn't my horse. Where was that blasted animal, anyway?

  I crawled forward on my forearms, searching the snow for prints—anything that could clue me in as to where my horse had wandered off to. There was a patch of ruffled snow from where he'd been tugging at that stubborn berry. Victory for him—the berry was gone, but so was he, and there were tracks leading deeper into the woods. It was too dark to see where they ended.