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

by Barbara Kloss

  The crowd loved him.

  “You are even lovelier than the rumors,” Steerforth continued, grabbing my hand.

  “Thanks.” I tried pulling my hand away, but he only held on to it tighter.

  “I thought maybe you and I could spend some time together this evening, getting to know one another.” He looked at me like he was going to have me for dessert.

  “Uh”—I jerked my hand free—“that won’t be necessary. I already have a date this evening.” I grabbed Thad’s arm.

  Steerforth glanced between us and bowed his head. “Of course.” He grinned. “But should you change your mind—” he grabbed my hand and kissed it “—I’ll be waiting.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said curtly.

  He left, and Thad died laughing.

  “Is he always like that?” I asked, dropping Thad’s arm.

  Thad shook his head. “Always.”

  The music changed to something deep and menacing, and Danton’s name was announced from the front. I thought the music reflected Lord Commodus more than it reflected Danton.

  The room lit with reds and blacks and the crowd cheered so frantically, I couldn’t see past them to the front where I knew Danton stood.

  “Don’t look now, but Goldilocks is on his way over.”

  Sure enough, Stefan was walking toward us. His bronze hair was unusually messy, and his cheeks were a startling shade of pink.

  “Hey, D.” He grinned sheepishly.

  Two girls appeared on either side of Stefan. They both had long, flowing blonde hair and were dressed in something glittery and…slightly see-through. Their big exotic blue eyes held something playful and seductive, and one of them reached up and ruffled Stefan’s hair. He blushed further. “Sedi, Elana…” He gestured to the girls—exact copies of each other. “My sister, Daria, and our friend, Thad.”

  “Pleasure,” the girls said together with lilting voices as they smiled.

  “Likewise,” Thad said, his amusement strong.

  The girls smiled and giggled and leaned in to my brother.

  Oh, please, Stef.

  “Vera Neci of Gesh!” said the king from the front.

  Wait, Vera was fighting in the games?

  I craned my neck to see, but I couldn’t see anything over Stefan and his scandalous entourage.

  “When did you two lovely ladies arrive in Valdon?” Thad asked.

  “Yesterday,” they said in unison.

  I leaned close to Stefan. “Stef,” I said through clenched teeth, “what are you doing?”

  The girls moved aside and I caught a glimpse of the other side of the room, and my heart stopped.

  Standing in the shadows was Alex.

  Chapter 10

  Alex

  My memory of Alex could never do him justice.

  It could never capture all that he was because the images in my mind were nothing but pale outlines in comparison.

  He looked like a deity. Standing there, fearless and powerful, unaffected and alluring, dressed all in black with his sword hanging easily from his narrow waist. His arms were folded over his chest and his thick, black hair had been brushed back, making the green in his eyes shine brilliantly.

  He smiled, then, and even though the smile wasn’t meant for me, even though he was clear on the other side of the room, I couldn’t breathe.

  A young woman moved in closer to him and he tilted his head toward her.

  Vera.

  Somewhere I heard King Darius make his last announcement and the colors changed, but I was only distantly aware.

  “Oi, there, Rook.” Thad nudged me.

  Vera blended into the crowd about as well as Alex did. She wore a blood-red dress that was so tight, I wondered how she had ever slipped into it to begin with. It hugged her in all the right places, showing off her womanly curves, and the neckline plunged almost to her stomach. She smiled at Alex—I’d never seen her smile before—and then he took her hand and led her out onto the dance floor with the other champions.

  I felt like I was sinking into the ground. I couldn’t bear to watch them, but I couldn’t pull my eyes away. His hands around her waist, her slender arms around his neck, holding each other close.

  It felt like someone dropped a brick on my chest.

  I was faintly aware that a hand gripped my arm and was pulling me. Heads and costumes spun in a blur of color and voices, and I felt like throwing up.

  “You okay, Rook?” Thad helped me into a chair.

  I’d probably have felt better if someone had punched me in the gut, kicked in my face, and tied me to the back of a horse that was running.

  I cradled my stomach. “I need a drink.”

  Thad shook his head and stood. “Look behind you.”

  It was a table, a very long table, covered in an assortment of filled glasses. I reached for the closest one.

  “Uh, probably don’t drink that one.” Thad covered the opening with his hand. “That’s what’s got Goldilocks so twitterpated. It’s faerie wine. Strong stuff for us ‘normal’ humans.” He nodded off toward the front and I followed his gaze to the edge of the dance floor where Stefan was dancing. Well, sort of. One of the girls was petting his hair while the other fiddled with the lapel of his jacket.

  “Okay, what about that one?” I pointed to an unassuming vase of bright pink liquid.

  Thad shook his head. “Nope. Love wine.”

  Okay…

  I pointed to a deeper pink. “That one?”

  “Stronger love wine.”

  “What the heck?” I gasped.

  Thad shrugged, grinning. “Hey, don’t ask me. It’s the festival. They like to promote, uh, harmony.”

  I snorted and pointed to a vase filled with something that looked like antifreeze.

  Before Thad could respond, an astoundingly corpulent man walked to the table, poured some of the neon-green liquid into an empty glass, and took a sip. No sooner had it touched his lips than his face turned white, then blue, and he started yelling while fanning his tongue that was slowly being covered with…frost?

  Servants rushed to his side and took the yelling man away.

  “Can’t believe they actually left that stuff out in the open like that.” Thad stared after them.

  “What is it?”

  “Fire and ice from the Icelands way up north. It’s what they drink when it’s so cold your bones freeze. We all just call it liquid fire. The liquid part is the ice and you’re supposed to add a couple drops of fire. Otherwise, it’ll freeze your insides.”

  That had been frost on the man’s tongue.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Point of Fact.”

  Danton stood behind me looking very elegant in rich blues with his blond hair brushed away from his face. He smiled at Thad. “Good evening, Thaddeus. Not being a bad influence, are we?” He turned his smile on me, then.

  His eyes were exceptionally blue this evening, and warm. My head started feeling a little fuzzy.

  Thad preened. “You know, becoming a princeling has been good for your image. In fact, you look so good that I’m starting to feel hot and bothered.”

  “And I see becoming an Aegis has done nothing for yours.” Danton held out a hand, which Thad accepted with a smirk.

  Something passed between them, and Thad suddenly turned to me. “I’ll be leaving you two, now. I’ve got me some women to woo.”

  I remembered the flowers. The last thing I wanted was to be left alone with Danton. Even in a ballroom. “Wait, where are you going?” I looked at Thad.

  “And Point of Fact,” Thad continued to Danton, “make sure the princess stays away from the liquor. She’s been eyeballing every tray that passes.” He winked at me and left.

  I was a little afraid to look back. Danton was probably going to ask me to dance, and there was no way I was going out there knowing that he…

  “You look beautiful,” Danton said, touching one of my curls.

  Without thinking I jerked back, away from him
, and I saw the disappointment in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry,” he started, “I didn’t mean…”

  “Oh, er, it’s fine. I…” Say something coherent already! “Thank you for the flowers.”

  He watched me, searching my eyes like he was trying to understand. “I shouldn’t have sent them,” he whispered at last. His blue eyes were so clear, so kind and considerate.

  “No…I mean, they were beautiful. Really beautiful. Thanks.”

  He sat in a chair beside me, leaning close but not too close, searching my eyes until finally, he smiled. “I promise I will not take offense if you don’t want to dance with me.”

  He wasn’t pressing me at all. In fact, I could tell by his face that he expected me to say no but wanted to ask anyway, just to make sure. I wished I could return his sentiment, but I just…couldn’t. Not yet, anyway.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to dance with you, I just…”

  “Here,” Danton said, standing beside me. “Let me see if I can find you some water.”

  I smiled. “I’d like that, thanks.”

  He smiled back. “Don’t go anywhere.” And he ducked into the crowd.

  I suddenly realized how noisy the room had become. The announcements had finished, as far as I could tell, and now six iron bowls, all filled with colored stones respective of each territory, were lined at the front of the room. Music and chatter and laughter had taken over—big, boisterous laughter. People had been drinking, and the noise would only get louder as the night continued.

  I tried to swallow the lump in my throat but it was lodged.

  I was afraid to look up—look anywhere—in case I saw him. In case he saw me. If I slipped away, would anyone notice? I could always say I wasn’t feeling well or blame it on the bug bites. I could find Thad and tell him to let Danton know. Certainly Danton would understand. I hadn’t seen Fleck yet, but Dad seemed confident that he was safe with the guild, and maybe I’d pass by them on my way out. It was late enough; they had to be coming soon.

  The idea was sounding better and better by the second.

  Slowly, I stood and started walking, keeping close to the wall, sticking to the shadows.

  The music changed. What had once been lively and quick transformed into something sad and poignant. Every note slipped into the next as if each tone existed for the one that would follow. It was a melancholy sound, as if the instruments were lamenting the death of a loved one in their language—the language of the soul—and it was heartbreaking.

  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” whispered a voice in my ear.

  I froze.

  Alex slipped behind me and my heart raced. “The music,” he said from my other side; his breath warmed my neck. “It’s the story of lovers,” he lingered on that last word, “pulled apart by their world. One night, they decided to run away together, but once it was discovered, a witch put a curse upon them and, as the legend goes, the very next morning the woman woke to find she’d killed her lover in her sleep.”

  I pressed my arms to my sides and I felt warm all over.

  He stood close—right at my side but a half step behind, keeping to the shadows. The slip of space between us felt charged with an electric current, and when his arm brushed lightly against mine, little shocks tickled my skin.

  It was strange, though, because as much as I tried, I couldn’t sense him. He was a void, cold and empty. Not like before. Not like when we’d kissed and I’d been engulfed by his love, his affection. That was all gone, now—gone like it had never existed—and in its place was…nothing.

  “You aren’t dancing,” he said in a whisper so intimate it settled inside of me somewhere.

  “I don’t dance,” I said.

  “Interesting.” There was a smile in his voice. “What would you call that earlier, with Stefan?”

  I thought of him watching me from the shadows, and my cheeks warmed.

  “Tripping,” I said.

  He chuckled in my ear, resonant and low, and my stomach filled with butterflies.

  “You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” I said in a tone much more biting than I’d intended.

  He stood quietly beside me, but I felt him watching me. I felt his eyes on my face like I could feel my own heart beating, and then fire licked over my body.

  “Do I?” he said at last, touching the edge of my scarf and rubbing it between his fingertips.

  I looked at him, and his eyes snapped to mine—my entire body pulsing with each heartbeat.

  His gaze burned, brilliant and sharp, intelligent and strong, daring me to look away, daring me to try, but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to.

  “I hope I’m not…interrupting anything?” Danton appeared.

  Danton wasn’t looking at me. He was looking at Alex, and a shadow passed over Danton’s face.

  Alex tore his eyes from mine and turned to Danton. I couldn’t help but notice how small Danton seemed in comparison, and frail.

  “Of course not, Danton,” Alex said with cold formality. “I was saying hello to an old friend”—old friend?—“and I was just leaving.”

  Danton’s nose flared as he nodded. “Yes, I believe Vera was looking for you.”

  “I’m sure.” Alex smiled a kind of smile that turned my heart to lead. He fixed cold eyes on me, then. “Daria…Danton. Good evening.”

  And he was gone.

  My breathing turned shallow, and I felt cold and hot all at the same time.

  “I forget you and Del Conte grew up together,” Danton said, breaking the silence.

  I felt his jealousy and shrugged it off. “I forget, sometimes, too.”

  He studied me without expression, like he was waiting for me to say something, but I hadn’t a clue what that something was supposed to be.

  “Danton, I…” I glanced away. “I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well.”

  Which was true, but the sickness I suffered from was one I didn’t think I’d recover with chicken noodle soup and some Tylenol.

  He eyed me a long, silent moment, his face blank. “Here.” He held a small glass of water before me, and I felt a twinge of guilt.

  “Thank you,” I said. “Have you seen my father?”

  If I were going to be permitted to leave early, my dad would need to know about it first.

  “Yes,” Danton said, suppressing his disappointment, which I felt acutely. “He’s by the door. I’ll take you—”

  “That’s all right.” I forced a smile. “I’d feel better if you stayed here and enjoyed yourself.”

  “I’m not sure that I can, now,” he said.

  He wasn’t whining; he was speaking with candor.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “Please don’t take it personally. Maybe we can see each other tomorrow if I’m feeling better?”

  His eyes flickered over my face. “I’d like that. I’ll check on you later.”

  I nodded and hurried off toward the entrance, almost bumping into a tray overfilled with drinks.

  “Oh, sorr…” I started, but didn’t see anyone carrying it.

  The tray hovered through the crowd, level with my waist, and then I realized it wasn’t hovering at all. It really was being carried. He wore two shiny black shoes, completely out of proportion with his skinny black legs, and the rest of his body was hidden beneath the tray. I had maneuvered closer to get a better look when he jerked his tray away, peered above the edge, and glared with two round black eyes.

  My own eyes widened.

  Grool?

  He was dressed in a tux and his three strands of hair were combed neatly to one side. Those black eyes glared at me down his aquiline nose. “No drink!” he growled, resting the tray back on top of his head and scurrying back into the crowd.

  “You really should stay away from faerie wine,” said a raspy, feminine voice behind me.

  I turned around and gazed right into a pair of familiar blue eyes.

  Tran Chiton, the great mage. And he was dressed as a woman.

  His white hair ha
d been curled and piled on top of his head, stuffed inside of an oversized hat, making him look like a bouquet of flowers. He was wearing a ghastly amount of makeup, a fluffy blue gown, and had taken to fanning himself.

  “Tran?” I gasped.

  “Shh!” He winked at me and held a finger to his lips—had he painted his nails?—and then fanned his face again.

  I threw my arms around him and he chuckled a strange, high-pitched chuckle before insisting I let go so that he could breathe again.

  “Where have you been?” I asked.

  “Keeping my eyes on things,” he continued in that feminine voice men sometimes do, but is hardly feminine-sounding at all. “And things are as dangerous as ever, with the return of the dark rider and all, but so very exciting, don’t you agree?” He winked again, and then he said, “You know, I have new respect for you women.”

  I arched a brow.

  “Mere walking requires at least a five foot radius of empty space, not to mention that dreadful line you must draw around your eyes—poked myself so badly I thought I was going to go blind. After all these decades, I finally lose my sight to eyeliner.” He shook his head.

  I had noticed the crooked line he’d drawn when I was suddenly struck by a thought.

  Maybe I wouldn’t talk to Master Antoni about Fleck after all. Maybe…

  “There’s something I need to talk to you—”

  “Such a curious floral display,” he interrupted, studying one of the nearby tables with a look of disapproval. “I would’ve gone with the popping patelles, myself. The spinis are simply so overused and that blasted silver gets everywhere. Come to think of it, I found some in one of my robes just the other day from about twenty years ago when I’d walked through a field of them.”

  “Tran,” I said.

  He glanced back at me and smiled as though I’d just appeared.

  “I need to talk to you…about Fleck.”

  Ms. Tran held the fan to his lips and dug something from the folds of his gown. He handed me a carefully folded silver kerchief. “Make sure no one sees this.”

  I took it from his hand—the kerchief was wrapped around something small and hard—and I shoved it in the folds of my dress, right beside Thad’s birthday present. “What is it?”