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

by Barbara Kloss

  My beautiful daughter,

  Since I can’t take you home right now,

  I thought I’d bring a little bit of home to you.

  I couldn’t be more proud of you.

  Love,

  Dad

  I glanced up into his smiling eyes and threw my arms around him. He laughed.

  “Thought you might like those,” he said.

  “But where did you find them?” I asked, pulling away.

  He held a finger to his lips and winked, but then his eyes trailed down my arms and his brow furrowed.

  “Bug bites,” I said, carrying my books to my nightstand and setting them down.

  His eyes flashed with concern. “What were you, attacked by blood ants?”

  “Um…” I looked away and his concern smothered me.

  “Daria!” he exclaimed. “What in Gaia’s name—”

  “Hey, D.” Stefan stepped into my room, holding a bouquet of yellow flowers. His eyes were weary and his physique sagged, and he sort of reminded me of a wounded puppy. “You look beautiful.”

  I folded my arms.

  “I, uh, brought these for you,” he said, glancing at the flowers. “For your birthday.”

  I glared at him.

  Dad glanced between us and arched a brow. “Can you two settle your differences after the dance?”

  Stefan opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, so instead he glanced away, embarrassed.

  “I’ll take them.” Rhea rushed to Stefan’s side, inhaled the flowers and smiled, then dashed into my bathroom humming that little melody she hummed sometimes when she was completely amused.

  Dad looked at me, his expression serious. “You’ll explain that”—he nodded to my arms—“later. You’re sure you’re not feeling sick? Those things can—”

  “Dad.” I shook my head. “I’m fine.” Yeah, my joints ached a little, but it was nothing life threatening.

  He studied me a moment before sighing. “Do you have a scarf or anything?”

  Rhea appeared behind me, see-through scarf in one hand, vase full of yellow flowers in the other.

  Dad nodded. “Thank you, Rhea.”

  She bowed her head slightly, and I took the see-through black scarf from her hands and draped it over my bare shoulders, wrapping it around my dotted arms.

  Dad and Stefan escorted me to the banquet hall. Stefan tried talking to me. He said things like “I’m sorry” and “I had no idea,” but I ignored him. I was certain that nothing nice would come out of my mouth, and until I saw Fleck—until I saw with my own eyes that he was safe—nothing nice could.

  As we got close, the murmur of voices grew louder and louder and I could faintly hear the sound of music. A small group of people had gathered near the ballroom entrance, dressed in fitted black suits, some with silver sashes. Right in the middle of the group was the king.

  He looked regal, covered in green velvet, with jewels gleaming from his crown and fingers. The angles in his face were sharp with decision, his thin lips set with purpose, and when his intelligent blue eyes found us, they settled with satisfaction.

  He said something to the men beside him, and the men bowed in respect and stepped through the doors into the ballroom. The hall exploded with noise and music until the door closed again, muffling it all.

  Dad led us to the king, who waited poised like the statue of someone great, hands clasped before him. He seemed unnaturally large to me, then, as though his presence filled the room and all its spaces, and when he looked at me I felt as though he could see all I was, all I had been, and all he expected me to be.

  We stopped right before him and Dad led me into a bow. It still felt awkward to me, bowing, and I was thankful I had Dad’s arm for support.

  When I straightened, the king was studying me, but for once he was not frowning.

  “Princess.” His voice was low, yet gentle, and there were hints of a smile on his lips. “You look positively exquisite this evening.”

  I bit the inside of my lip and Dad nudged me in the side. “Thank you,” I said, glancing down.

  I felt the king’s pride swell as he appraised me.

  “You really are the ghost of your mother. It seems just the other day that she was here, lovely as you are, attending her first dance. I believe,” the king continued, tilting his head as he studied me, “that she would be quite proud of you.”

  Dad squeezed my arm, and I swallowed.

  For some reason, his statement made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if it had to do with the fact that he had said it, or what it was that he had said.

  And, yet, part of it gave me courage. My mother had been here once, standing as I stood, about to face a crowd of faces she didn’t know. I wondered if she’d been afraid, and then I thought she had been the kind of woman that would have faced her fears with her head held high.

  So would I.

  “Stefan.” The king nodded at my brother. “Well, shall we?” The king spun around and the doors opened for him.

  Sound exploded and all I could see beyond was a brilliant golden shimmer.

  I gripped Dad’s arm tight as we followed the king into the room, and I took a deep breath to steady myself.

  The hall was filled with bodies and the room had a golden quality to it, like someone had taken a bag of glitter and sprinkled it over everything.

  Hundreds of tiny golden candles burned above, floating in the air like a cloud, but the ceiling was gone. It opened to the night sky, allowing the cloud of candles to rise higher and higher, spanning to the stars, not leaving a patch of night sky untouched.

  But even though we were exposed to the night, the air felt warm and enchanting. Not like winter. I breathed in tuberose and jasmine and traces of something sweet like honey.

  We walked farther into the room, and the crowd began parting for us. So many faces, so many people I didn’t know. All of them staring…at me. The chatter and laughter in the room abruptly ceased, yet the music continued playing. Somehow the notes couldn’t fill the silence, not completely.

  I thought of my mother again and stood taller.

  The crowd continued to part, leaving a clear aisle to the front of the room. I squeezed Dad’s arm hard, and he squeezed me back. I could feel his pride as strongly as I could feel the admiration and curiosity of the people all around.

  Watching me.

  I heard whispers, too. Whispers of “the princess” and “beautiful” and “just like Aurora.”

  I felt hot everywhere and wished I could hide.

  I noticed Cicero and Sonya in the crowd, standing near the clearing. Finally, people I knew. Cicero was dressed all in black like my father, and Sonya wore an elegant black dress that shimmered when she moved.

  She smiled at me and I smiled back.

  Where was Alex? He had to be here somewhere…

  Stop looking for him. You’re supposed to be getting over him.

  But my eyes weren’t listening. They kept stealing glances at every dark-haired person we walked past. I noticed Isla, Rae, and Emera, then. The three of them smirked as their eyes lit with something wicked, and Isla leaned in to the boy on her right and whispered. The boy turned—it was Denn—and Denn stared me up and down, folding his arms with an ugly sneer, licking his fat lips.

  I decided not to look at the crowd any more, and set my eyes on the front of the room where we were headed.

  Instruments continued playing unmanned up ahead, their bows weaving and plucking with invisible players. To their right was a large silver stand with a handful of half-sized people working over a tapestry.

  It was just the beginnings of one. Only the top had been woven, but they were busy, taking threads and weaving them together, completely preoccupied with their task.

  And it would eventually be tucked away in the king’s study to be hung on a wall.

  The king stopped at the front of the room, faced the crowd, and the music abruptly stopped. Dad turned me to face the crowd and my breath stuck somewhere inside o
f me.

  Had we really walked through that many people?

  At once, the entire room bowed. The king held out his jeweled hands as if to embrace the crowd and then, like a rising tide, they stood gazing respectfully at the king.

  “Welcome, welcome,” the king said. “As most of you know, this festival is, perhaps, the most important festival in the history of Gaia. For centuries has Galahad’s lineage been lost and Gaia existed without a true heir.

  “It is because of your fidelity to Gaia—your fierce devotion to her—that my family has had the honor of ruling in lieu of that true heir. The prophecies have foretold of a time when a new line can be established, and once that missing line is in place a true heir can be chosen.” He paused. “That time is now.” His voice filled every corner and, with a sweep of his hand, all of the candles inside the room dimmed to a dull glow.

  “The events this next week will be difficult. They will be challenging and severe, pitting us against one another, and each of your champions will face evils greater than anything they’ve ever faced before. But,” he paused, surveying the crowd, “they are all necessary. Necessary to prove which character is worthy to unite us as it was intended centuries ago, so that the balance in power may be restored.” His eyes narrowed. “Let the games begin.”

  With a wave of his arm, fireworks exploded through the candles and into the sky. Green and gold, red and silver.

  The crowd cheered and clapped as dragons and knights on horses swirled in a battle of colorful sparks, exploding like glitter over everything.

  The music resumed, and the next thing I knew, Stefan’s arm was around my waist.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  He pulled me closer. “Follow my lead,” he whispered, casting a smile at the crowd, and then he started moving me around the floor.

  Dancing.

  Wait, I didn’t know how to dance.

  And everyone was staring at us, pointing.

  “Stef, I—”

  “Smile,” he whispered, gently squeezing my hand.

  “What?” I asked as I tripped over my feet.

  “Smile. You look furious.”

  “What if I am?”

  Couples from the crowd slowly joined us, spinning and twirling and laughing.

  I stepped on Stefan’s toes and grumbled to myself.

  He reeled me in. “Stop thinking too much…”

  “Oh, maybe that’s why you’re such an idiot.”

  He clenched his jaw and twirled me. “I mean stop thinking about the dancing. Just feel…and go with it.”

  “Hmm.” I tilted my head, thoughtful. “I’m feeling like I should strangle you. Should I go with it?”

  He sighed. “D, I told you I’m sorry.” Twirl. “He cornered me and I didn’t know what to say.”

  I squeezed his hand harder than necessary and looked away.

  The piece ended, Stefan and I exchanged a bow, and I hurried away from him. Everyone stared at me, but they moved aside, letting me through.

  “Wow, Rook, don’t you look excruciating.”

  I turned around, right into a smirking Thad.

  “No, really, you actually clean up pretty nice.”

  “And you cleaned up,” I said.

  He was dressed up himself, fitted black pants and coat, and his usual messy brown hair had been styled. Well, sort of.

  Thad’s smirk widened. “Glad to see you in a good mood. I wasn’t sure if I was going to get Angry Rook, or I’m-gonna-rip-off-your-head-and-spit-down-your-throat Rook.”

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Hey,” he continued, “I brought something for you.”

  I arched a wary brow.

  “Oh, come on. It’s just a little something. I couldn’t forget your birthday.”

  Now I was really worried.

  He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small black box. He took one look at my face and snorted. “Don’t look at me like I’m about to propose—open it.” He pushed the box forward. “You know how much I love my bachelorhood.” He winked.

  Slowly, I took the box from his hands and lifted the lid.

  Inside was a long and flat piece of what looked like obsidian, carved into the shape of a rook, just like the one he’d given me when we first met. Only this one was for decoration and had a tiny, opalescent stone sitting in the middle of it, like a heart.

  A charm.

  It was a beautiful little object, small yet mysterious.

  “It’s for your scabbard,” Thad said. “Just press it on the leather—it’ll stick.”

  “Thad, it’s perfect,” I whispered, running my fingers over the cool stone.

  He shrugged. “Eh, it’s all right.”

  I smiled at him. “Thanks.”

  “Hey, I aim to please.”

  I closed the lid back over the box, and shoved it into the folds of my gown. “By the way, have you seen Fleck?”

  “Naw. The guild always likes to arrive fashionably late, so I wouldn’t worry.”

  He seemed confident in his assertion, which helped me a little. I snagged a glass of red liquid from a passing tray, but no sooner had it touched my fingertips than Thad had taken it from my hands and downed the contents.

  “Hey!” I said.

  He wiped his mouth clean and set the now empty goblet on a small table. “Drinking already?” He wagged his finger. “I’m surprised at you. By the way, I owe you a compliment.”

  I searched for another drink-bearing servant. “For?”

  “The flowers.” He gestured to the table.

  It overflowed with fruits and desserts, but in every space missing food was a cluster of black and silver flowers—the flowers I had de-thorned.

  “They’re so beautiful and…un-thorny,” he said.

  I narrowed my eyes and he laughed.

  “How are your fingers and arms, by the way?” he asked.

  “Strong enough to punch your face in.”

  He laughed again, and shoved something square and chocolaty into his mouth. He looked past me and nudged me in the ribs.

  “What…?” I followed his gaze.

  The music had changed. It was lower, had a beat that reminded me more of a procession, and the crowd had parted again. King Darius stood at the front of the room with my father, Sir Armand, and a few other advisors.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I have the distinct pleasure of introducing this year’s champions.”

  The crowd cheered and hollered in excitement.

  “For our first champion,” the king bellowed, “Steerforth Gard of Alioth!”

  Music competed with the crowd as orange and gold exploded above—the colors of Alioth. Fireworks boomed, shaped like gold stars, and banners waved effortlessly from the cloud of candles, and then I saw a young man walking through the crowd. He was tall but not too tall and wore clothes that were a convenient size too small for his muscular physique. And he winked at every young girl he walked past.

  Oh, brother.

  “If it isn’t Steerhead,” Thad said in my ear.

  Trailing the young man was a group of four, dressed in black. They were carrying something between them that was covered in an orange cloth. Once they reached the front of the room, the set it off to one side and stepped away. The king walked over to the object, waved his hand over it, and the cloth disappeared.

  The crowd went wild.

  It was some sort of wide-rimmed iron bowl, sitting on three curled iron legs. Orange-tinged translucent gemstones filled the bowl, and the word Alioth was chiseled along the outside of the rim.

  “What’s that?” I asked Thad, pointing at the urn.

  He arched a brow and grinned. “That is how they’ll keep score.”

  “With a bowl full of orange gems?”

  Thad rolled his eyes. “Once the contestants are bound to the games, each bowl will hold a flame called the keeper’s flame. It’s a flame that tests character.”

  “How does that work?” I asked.

  “You’ll see at the
ceremony.”

  Steerforth took a rather exaggerated bow and walked back into the crowd, shaking hands and whispering to the ladies.

  The music changed to something much more folk sounding, and the more I listened, the more I thought it reminded me of pirates.

  “Our next champion,” the king continued, and the crowd hushed. “Ehren Venia of the Arborenne.”

  Green and silver streaked through the air, and every orange flag was quickly replaced by one of silver with a green tree at the center. The crowd cheered as a boy with long silver-like hair walked through them. It was the boy with the purple eyes that I’d seen in the marketplace.

  “Frosty’s in it, too?” Thad craned his neck to see. “I already put all my bets on him.”

  I searched the crowd again, looking for any sign of the guild but found none. Where were they? And, more importantly, where was Fleck?

  “Princess Daria,” said a smooth voice behind me.

  I turned and almost ran right into Steerforth. His dirty blond hair fell loosely around his rich brown eyes—eyes that were staring at me like he was slowly taking my clothes off.

  I folded my arms high over my chest and took a step back, feeling the sudden urge to slap him. “Yes?” I didn’t bother hiding my irritation.

  “Sorry if I startled you. I’m aware that I…sometimes have that effect on people.”

  Seriously?

  Thad guffawed beside me, but the young man didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were too busy staring at my chest, and there certainly wasn’t much for him to stare at.

  “How fascinating,” I said, positioning my arms a little higher.

  Steerforth smiled a smile he must have thought was charming, but the effect it had on me was slightly more nauseating.

  A couple girls sauntered behind him, batting their eyes. He winked at them and they giggled, but then I returned to being the unfortunate victim of his undivided attention.

  He stood tall. “You probably already know this, but my name is Steerforth Gard. I just wanted to give you the opportunity to meet me in person.”

  I forced my eyes forward to keep from rolling them. “Lucky me, I guess.”

  Thad choked on his next bite.

  King Darius announced Stefan while the color scheme changed to black and green, and the crowd cheered and hollered. I noticed Stefan’s golden hair moving through the crowd, and he was smiling.