“I’m sorry,” Danton said suddenly.
I snapped the lid to the directional closed and shoved it in my pocket just as he turned around. His face had softened with vulnerability.
“About what?” I asked.
“About earlier,” he continued. “About…how I’ve been acting toward you. I had no right.” His eyes were so blue, so honest. He took a slow step forward. “I just…I’ve never felt so connected to anyone in all my life, and I think—no, I know—that I was too eager to move forward with you.” He stopped right before me, his eyes intense.
I didn’t know what to say. I found it strange that he should be talking to me about this now, in the middle of a snowy desert while we were searching for the unity stone.
He gazed into my eyes, hopeful. “May I have a second chance?”
A gust of wind swirled around me, and I heard something off in the distance. A soft cry of struggle, followed by a sharp stabbing pain. I blinked and looked away.
“Did you hear that?” I asked.
“No.” His voice was low.
There was someone out there, just on the edge of my senses. If I could just…
“Daria, where are you going?” Danton said after me.
I kept walking. “I’m not sure, but I think someone’s in trouble.”
“Daria, it’s too dangerous!” Danton continued.
“Come on!” I started hopping into a run.
“I’m not coming with you.”
I stopped and glanced over my shoulder at him.
The lines in his face were hard. “You can come with me and I will help you find the stone, or you can do it alone. What lies out there”—he gestured in the direction I was headed—“is beyond you and me. I will keep you safe, Daria. It’s your choice.”
He really wasn’t going to come with me.
But there was someone out there—someone in trouble. I didn’t know who or what, but they needed help. I looked back at Danton, who waited, lips in a line.
He would keep me safe. He would protect me from the dangers here, and he would lead us to the stone.
While someone else was in trouble.
“Danton, I’m sorry, but…”
His face didn’t change. He nodded once and adjusted his stance. “This is where we say goodbye, princess. I truly hope I see you again soon.”
He walked away. And I turned and ran, heaving. Pain coursed through me stronger, now, and I was glad I’d decided to come. Whoever it was needed help, now. I rounded a tree and froze.
It was Vera.
She crouched, focused, clutching her blades as her head whipped back and forth between two shimmering clouds.
The vapors. Just like the ones I’d seen through the wall. They hovered over the snow, pulsing and swelling, waiting to attack.
And Vera was afraid.
One swept forward with a horrible scream. A surge of power burst forth from her, pressing the shimmer back with an invisible wall, but its companion seized the opportunity. It glided toward her, fast and fluid, sweeping over her.
Vera cried out as her agony seared through my blood. It felt as though her insides were being ripped apart. She fell to her knees, and the other one swirled toward her. And Vera wasn’t moving.
“Hang on!” I screamed, and dove in, daggers in hand.
Her shock surged as the shimmering cloud moved in.
“What are you doing?” she growled.
No idea. “Helping!” I yelled.
“I don’t need your help!” She was furious, but at least it was distracting her from her pain.
One of the clouds moved away from her and floated toward me.
“That’s it,” I said. Vera couldn’t handle two, but maybe one at a time. If I could just distract them…
The cloud swept at me and I dove, rolling through the snow. That horrible screaming filled my ears as I staggered to my feet.
Vera’s features were set as she pressed back the other, fighting against the agony that burned down her spine, bleeding into her limbs. She was even stronger than I had thought.
I moved away from her, luring the other cloud back farther and farther, while she handled the first.
The cloud moved toward me, swelling with each pulse, fighting against the wind, and those alien screams sounded again. The wind gusted hard, throwing my hair in my face, and I felt a surge of power from Vera.
The air cracked and trembled as a thousand voices cried out in agony and were suddenly gone.
I glanced back; Vera was heaving, leaning against a tree, but the other cloud was gone.
My skin turned cold and my insides felt like they were on fire. The other cloud had descended upon me, and I couldn’t move. I couldn’t run, I couldn’t breathe; all I could do was feel, and that feeling was worse than anything I could remember. Like someone had reached icy-cold fingers down my throat and was slowly ripping my organs apart, trying to pull them out through my mouth.
The wind around me whirred and screamed in my ears. I could faintly feel Vera, mustering her strength to dispel my attacker, but she was too weak. She’d only had the energy for one.
The pain burned so strong that my vision turned black, and, like watching from a dream, I saw myself falling to the ground in the middle of a vortex of wind and snow.
I landed in the snow, and the pain suddenly ceased. The world around me was silent. I opened my eyes. A shadow moved in the distance, slipping behind a tree. The dark rider. I staggered to my knees and glanced behind me.
Vera lay in the snow, her hand resting over her chest as it rose and fell quickly with her breathing. She stared straight above her, probably willing the pain to fade, and slowly tilted her head toward me.
Good, she was still alive, and from the looks of things, the shimmering clouds were gone, too.
I turned back to where I’d seen the dark rider; he was gone.
“How did you do that?” Vera’s voice was low and even. Her jaw was clenched, her eyes narrowed, and she looked at me like I was the one that had attacked her.
And I had no idea what she was talking about. “Do what?”
A shadow darkened her face. “I saw you,” she spat, and then winced as I felt a surge of pain burn through her.
I rushed to her side.
“Get away from me,” she growled.
I searched her for any signs of injury, but it seemed like everything she felt was internal. “What were those things?” I asked, giving her room to push herself to a seated position.
With a burst of strength, she stood and started walking away from me.
“Vera, wait!” I shoved myself to my feet, wincing, and hurried after her.
“Stay away from me,” she said without turning around.
“But you need help!”
She snorted. “Not from you.” And she was soon out of sight, leaving me alone.
Again.
What had those things been? Had Danton known they were here?
Another truth sank inside of me. The dark rider. He was here, and he had sent them after her.
A black bird cawed overhead, landing on the branch above me. It was the first sign of life I’d seen here, but seeing it now somehow wasn’t comforting. The bird watched me, head tilted to the side, and then took off, disappearing through the darkening trees.
Evening would be coming soon, and I wasn’t about to search for the unity stone in the middle of the night. Not here.
The wind rustled through the trees and a clump of snow fell beside me. I pulled out the compass. The little arrow continued hovering over the crossed arrows, but this time, they were pointing in the other direction. The direction Vera had gone.
Well, I didn’t really know where else to go, so I might as well follow her tracks while I searched for cover for the night. So, I started walking.
My adrenaline had dissolved, allowing me to feel again. My feet were like lead weights as I dragged my bad ankle through the snow, and my lungs burned from the cold air. What I would have given for a
fire, and I had no idea how to make one. Not without magic. These people didn’t use matchsticks, and I doubted there were any in my pack.
Vera’s footsteps became closer together and started dragging along the snow until they stopped. I looked around. The forest was much darker now, and there wasn’t a sign of her anywhere.
A sharp point dug in my back and my breath caught.
“You lied…” Vera hissed behind me, her agony overwhelming.
I didn’t move. “Vera, please.”
“You said you couldn’t do magic.” She dug the tip of her dagger deeper between my shoulder blades.
Any deeper, she’d draw blood. Slowly, she moved around to face me, her knife pointed at my chest. Her dark eyes were filled with hate and her mouth was set in fury. “You lie and cheat and manipulate to get what you want.” She spat in my face. “You’re just like the king.”
I flinched, but said nothing as her spit slid down my cheek.
A bolt of pain wrenched through her so fiercely, she cried out and collapsed in the snow, unmoving.
I wiped my face, crouching at her side. “Vera?”
Her eyes were shut tight, her jaw clenched in silent battle. “Get away…” She tried again, but the shear agony cut her short.
Her color was fading fast. “You need help,” I said.
“I don’t want—” she winced “—your help.”
Her insides burned as though they were slowly melting. How was she not screaming right now?
Her energy faded, her lips went slack, and her face turned whiter than snow. I slapped her cheek hard, and her eyes opened wide enough to glare.
I glared back. “Tell me how to help you!”
She struggled to breathe and looked away. “You…can’t.”
“There has to be something.”
She squeezed her eyes tight as the pain pulsed. “…have…pack…” she mumbled.
“What?” I asked, but her head lolled to the side as she struggled to breathe.
Certainly, she hadn’t meant the pack? Maybe hers had something in it.
I searched her, but couldn’t find it. “Where’s your pack?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Yours,” she mumbled.
I grabbed my pack. “But mine’s empty.” The last word fell away as I realized there was something in my pack. Curious, I yanked it open; a neon-green liquid shone back at me from inside a small vial. It looked just like…
“Fire and ice?” I said aloud.
Vera nodded.
So, she wanted fire and ice, probably to help the pain because I highly doubted it had any curative properties.
But there was just one little problem.
“Vera, I can’t make fire.”
She opened her eyes, looking like she could murder me even in death.
“I’m serious!” I defended. “I can’t.”
I glanced away from her murderous gaze, uncorked the vial, and held it before her. “Please,” I pleaded. “I can’t.”
She continued to glare at me until, finally, she looked at the vial. For a long moment, I thought she was going to refuse.
At last she shifted and shut her eyes. It took every ounce of her strength to focus; the strain on her made my insides ache and, after what seemed like forever, a ball of fire appeared in her hand. I guided her hand to the vial and she turned it, letting the fire fall into the liquid. It hissed and fizzled as steam curled into the air, and I pressed the vial to her lips.
She swallowed it down, shut her eyes, and fell lifeless in the snow.
Chapter 20
Vera
“No.” I tossed the vial aside and shook her. Her hair tousled and her head lolled to the side. This couldn’t be happening.
“Vera!” I smacked her across the face.
Nothing.
I pressed my ear against her chest.
With a sharp intake of air, she jerked up, heaving, and I jumped back.
Every breath burned her lungs as she gasped, struggling to breathe again. The fire and ice moved into her stomach, giving strength to her body and limbs, purging her organs of pain, and her ghostly white cheeks became tinged with pink. She sat there, eyes closed, breathing in and out as though her entire life depended on it.
At last, her lids snapped open and she looked at me.
Her elegantly dangerous face was without expression, her exotic eyes hard and searching, but for once, I didn’t detect absolute hatred.
“Better?” I asked. I was shaking.
She didn’t answer. She simply sat there like a statue in the snow, watching me. Her eyes moved and settled on the empty vial, lying in the snow beside her.
“You were right,” I said. “It was in my pack.”
Rage twisted her features and she looked at the trees with violence.
Had I done something wrong? That was what she had suggested, wasn’t it? Find fire and ice—she’d even made the fire. Maybe she didn’t remember.
She exhaled slowly. “That bastard.” Her voice could’ve frozen winter.
“Who?” I whispered.
Her fury-filled gaze moved to mine. “Danton.”
Danton?
“I’m going to kill him,” she said, staggering to her feet. She hadn’t taken more than two steps before she clutched her stomach and tumbled to the side. I caught her before she fell into the snow.
Her pulse was weak, her body tired and strained. The fire and ice had done an excellent job of dulling the pain, but it was still there, curling around her insides and squeezing them.
“You’re not killing anyone,” I said. “You’re still weakened from those”—what were they?—“things back there.”
The face Vera made told me that was the wrong thing to say, and I was suddenly reminded of my fights with Stefan.
Vera was like a bomb about to explode, limited only by the fragile shell around her. I didn’t know what had happened, exactly, or what Danton could possibly have to do with this, but we needed to find shelter, and fast. Night was upon us, and the air was starting to freeze my lashes.
“It’s getting dark,” I said, adjusting my stance to prop her up. “We need to find a place to stay for the night.”
She shook her head. “No, I’m going to find him.”
Her stubbornness was going to get her killed.
Funny. Hasn’t someone told you that before?
Conscience, not right now, please.
I held her tight. “Not like this, you aren’t.”
I thought she was going to fight me, but with a sigh, she slumped against my shoulder, succumbing to her exhaustion.
Now what?
The wind blew, fierce and cold, chilling my bones. Some of Vera’s hair wafted in my mouth, and I spit it out as I searched and searched for somewhere to go. Everything still looked the same, white and black with varying shades of grey. No changes in topography, no hillsides with caves, no…
The trees.
Maybe…there had to be…
“I need you to walk,” I said to Vera.
She didn’t answer, but I knew she’d heard me.
I started moving forward, holding her against me as she dragged her feet through the snow. My ankle burned with her weight, and I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out. I sure hoped what I was looking for wasn’t much farther, or I wouldn’t be able to make it.
We trudged through the snow as wind whipped around us, blowing snowflakes everywhere—in my face, my eyes, beneath my cloak. I paused and reached out with my senses, trying to detect energy, trying to detect anything.
Nothing.
The world around me was dead; the only life force I could feel was Vera’s beside me, and even that was fading.
I kept walking, step after agonizing step, pulling her dead weight after me. The winter wind whistled, tugging at my cloak and hair, stinging my eyes.
My ankle gave out and I collapsed, bringing Vera down with me.
Get up!
I couldn’t move; I was so cold.
&nbs
p; The wind blew snow in my face, but I was too tired to wipe it off.
Move! It’s just a little farther…
But it wasn’t. I had been wrong. There was nothing but emptiness and cold and…
I felt it, in the distance. Humming and vibrating with energy, so soft I wouldn’t have noticed it if I hadn’t stopped. My lids snapped open, and, with a groan, I pushed myself up.
The wind howled, drowning out everything else, but once it passed and was quiet, I could sense the vibrations again.
My heart beat faster with hope, and I tugged Vera back to her feet.
She moaned something that I couldn’t understand, but her strong flicker of annoyance told me I didn’t want to. I slipped my arms around her and pulled her after me, toward the pulse faintly resonating in the air.
It was so dark. I wouldn’t have been able to see anything if it hadn’t been for the snow, reflecting what little light existed, amplifying it enough so that I could avoid running into trees.
Step by slow step, I walked, carrying Vera forward, all the way until we reached it.
Carefully, I set her down on the ground beside the stump and took a deep breath. The air stung and my teeth chattered, but my lips were too cold to move. Shaking, I took off my gloves and pressed my stiff hands against the tree trunk; it felt warm.
“I just need…” I slipped my pack from my shoulder and reached inside. My fingers touched on something cold as ice and hard as stone. I pulled it out; it was a coin. “This.” I pushed the coin into the bark and stepped back. “Please work.”
The coin sank into the tree and, like a curtain, the bark pulled back, leaving a dark opening behind.
I sighed my relief and looked back at Vera, who had noticed none of it. I slung my pack over my shoulder and grabbed her by the ankles. “Please don’t kill me for this,” I said, and dragged her through the snow into the belly of the tree.
It was just like the tree I’d been in with the Del Contes—the shroud. This one wasn’t nearly as furnished as the other had been, or as warm. There were two stools standing on the dried pine needle covered floor, and the walls were bare, knotted and rotting. A single torch, hanging above the opening, had come to life the moment we’d stepped inside, and little bugs scurried away, hiding in the earth and shadows.
The Keeper's Flame (A Pandoran Novel, #2) Page 24