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

by Barbara Kloss

  I dug in my pack and my fingers grazed against something cold and hard. My amulet. I pulled it out.

  “Daria, don’t—” Alex started.

  “I won’t leave him here like this.” I challenged his gaze and turned back to Steerforth, lifting his head enough to slip the chain around his neck.

  “That’s your only way back,” Vera said, “and you’re wasting it. He’s dead.”

  I didn’t like that word; it was empty and callous and…final. I glared at her. “Looks like you and I will be walking back together, then.”

  She pursed her lips and tilted her head, but didn’t say another word as I focused back on Steerforth and wrapped my hand around the amulet.

  “Daria, please,” Alex said, but I ignored him.

  I shut my eyes and focused on the object in my hand. With a soft pulse, the air shuddered and Steerforth was gone.

  A breeze wafted over me, cold and melancholy, as I got to my feet, dusting the snow from my legs. My eyes stung and my body trembled. I needed to move. I needed to move away from this place, away from this battle, away from Steerforth.

  “Where to?” I asked.

  Ehren was the first to speak. “There’s a small group of shadowguard right ahead of us, heading toward the mountain.” His violet eyes were consumed with thought.

  So there were more of them.

  A shadow passed over Alex’s face as he looked past Ehren. Vera folded her arms over her chest.

  “I’ll go in front,” Alex said.

  Vera pulled her swords free. “So will I,” she said.

  Alex held her gaze while she stood tall in defiance. “Fine,” he said at last. “Ehren?”

  Ehren nodded once and moved behind me, bow in hand.

  ****

  The mountain was monstrous.

  In fact, it was so large, it couldn’t fit between the ground and sky and its upper half was lost somewhere in thick clouds, which was why I hadn’t noticed it before. And the closer we came, the more I sensed that it was alive with something dark and cold, as though at any moment it might unfold and unleash a great monster within.

  “The stone is hidden…on that?” I whispered, afraid I might wake it.

  Ehren stepped beside me, gazing up into the clouds. His face didn’t show fear, nor did it show anxiety or joy. He wore the same cool expression, watchful and unaffected, with those purple eyes that saw everything that was and wasn’t there.

  “It’s not as bad as it seems,” he said lightly, tilting his head at the dark mass before us as if he were listening to it speak. “The mountain is made of ice, which should make it easier to feel the life force radiating from the stone.”

  Well, that sounded nice, but we were standing at the base of the mountain and I couldn’t detect anything from the stone. Where, exactly, were we going to start?

  The wind blew and I shivered. The air was colder here and carried a life of its own, as if it had hands and fingers and was reaching through the forest to study its intruders and find weaknesses.

  “What now?” asked Vera, glaring at the mountain with her hands on her hips.

  Alex had hardly said a word since I’d sent Steerforth back, and his gait had remained poised with vigilance. He glanced back at me, curious. “Anything?”

  I shook my head as the icy wind ripped through the forest, kicking up flakes of snow and blowing them into my face.

  “What about the directional?” he asked.

  Ehren’s violet eyes latched on me. They really were unusual in an alluring sort of way.

  “You have one?” he asked.

  “Yeah.” I dug in my pocket. “I’m, er, borrowing it.”

  I clicked the lid open and the arrow and symbols spun. Round and round they went, spinning in opposite directions as though they might never stop spinning. Alex kept a safe distance from me, making sure I kept my focus.

  Ehren’s purple eyes fixed with something like fascination. It was difficult to tell, though, because nothing ever seemed to elicit much of a response from him.

  The arrow finally stopped, hovering over the circle while pointing just to the right of Alex, toward the mountain.

  “Looks like we’re going that way.” I nodded in the direction of the arrow.

  Ehren rubbed his narrow chin, staring thoughtfully at the directional. “May I?”

  “Sure.” I handed it to him.

  The arrow vibrated a little, but didn’t move from its position. In fact, it seemed more resolute. “Thank you,” Ehren said, snapping the lid shut and handing it back to me. “I’ve never seen one in person before.”

  The four of us trudged through the snow toward the mass that was the mountain. I’d always loved the snow. It was so pure and pristine and magical, the way it clung to the branches, the way it dusted the trees, the way it smoothed out rough patches and made the ordinary breathtaking.

  But here, it was difficult to admire the beauty without this overwhelming sense of dread. The cold was bitter, the air saturated with something dark and ominous, and the trees possessed a life that made my skin crawl.

  The sky overhead had changed from slate to dark, filled with thousands of frozen drops. I’d seen clouds like that in Yosemite before, when I’d visited Alex’s family during the winter. I remembered being excited about them because it usually meant a huge storm was on its way and Sonya would have us come inside to a kitchen where Clara would have hot chocolate and giant marshmallows waiting for us.

  But I wasn’t so excited now. The only protection we’d find here would be the trees, but something told me they might not cooperate.

  Alex slowed and walked with me.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly.

  “You really want to know?”

  He glanced sideways at me, curious now.

  “Hot chocolate with fat marshmallows,” I said.

  He grinned, his eyes fixed ahead, understanding. “How simple it was then.”

  Yes, how simple it had all been and how unbelievingly complicated everything had become. Why was it you never appreciated your youth until it was taken from you? And at what point had responsibility shifted from the “adults” to us, and where the heck was I when it had happened?

  “I miss then,” I said.

  He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “I miss then, too.”

  He let go of my hand and said, “Daria?”

  I glanced at him.

  “After all of this,” he continued, his voice low yet resonant, “I would like to spend some time with you…alone.”

  He glanced sideways at me, and the look in his eyes, on his face, filled my stomach with butterflies. “Assuming that’s all right with you…?”

  I smiled, holding his gaze. “I’d like that.”

  He smiled back and my heart started beating so hard and fast, I was certain he was able to hear it.

  “I see it!” Vera shouted from up ahead.

  Alex and I both looked at her; she glanced back at us without expression, her arms folded over her well-shaped torso.

  How is she not freezing with her neckline so low?

  She continued watching us as we walked toward her, Ehren right behind us. And then I saw it, too—a dark blackish-blue bruise in the snow.

  A cave.

  It was nearly imperceptible, and I doubt I would have noticed it if Vera hadn’t pointed it out. But now that she had, I could definitely feel the edges of something: warmth and power pulsing faintly with life, but I wasn’t so sure I liked the idea of walking through a snow cave to find it.

  “Is there another way?” I asked.

  Vera made a face like I couldn’t have said anything more idiotic, her eyes like two smoldering coals. “You do whatever you want, princess. You know I don’t care if you freeze to death.”

  Alex ignored her. “Ehren?”

  Ehren stepped forward, studying the cave. “Nothing.”

  The trees ended and we crossed the narrow strip of untouched snow before the cave. The sky had grown so d
ark that the snow looked dull and grey, and the wind blew ice in our faces. I used my cloak as a shield until we reached the cave. The snow transformed from white to blue to deep blue to black the deeper I gazed inside the cotton slit.

  With the next gust of wind, the entire mountain seemed to groan.

  “Last chance to turn around, princess,” Vera said, slipping into the cave.

  She’d really sounded like she wanted me to turn around.

  Ehren started after her but paused in the entryway and looked over his shoulder at me. His lips parted as if to say something, but then he glanced past me, at Alex, nodded and ducked inside.

  Alex watched the forest, his features hard as the wind blew his dark hair around his face. “I haven’t seen any sign of the shadowguard, and it worries me,” he said.

  “Do you think they’re farther ahead?” I asked.

  “Not sure.” He looked back at me, his lips tight. “After you.”

  I walked inside, out of the wind and cold. At first everything was dark, and I couldn’t see Ehren or Vera—anything—but gradually my eyes adjusted, and everything transformed into varying shades of grey.

  Alex was right behind me, lightly brushing against me as we walked, until the grey faded to white and I could see Ehren and Vera again.

  A white-blue orb glowed above, illuminating the giant snow tunnel. It seemed to mirror Ehren’s movement, and when Ehren’s stopped to look back at us, my suspicions were confirmed. The orb had stopped with him.

  “The cave opens up ahead,” he said, and we kept walking.

  The floor ascended as we walked higher and higher through the mountain. It creaked and moaned, and visions of snow collapsing, burying us deep within, kept playing in my mind. Ehren and Vera suddenly stopped.

  The snow tunnel had opened into a vast ice cavern. Everywhere I turned was ice and snow, forming walls, arching into a domed ceiling above as though the entire cavern were made of frosted glass. It was beautiful but frightening, as if we had intruded upon another time, another place, and we weren’t supposed to be here.

  We stood on a ledge that faded into darkness. There was another ledge on the opposite side of the cavern, and the only thing that connected the two was an ice bridge, just wide enough for one of us to cross at a time.

  It was our only way across, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

  “What is this place?” I asked. My voice echoed in the empty chamber.

  Alex looked around, cautious and calculating, and Ehren was the one that answered.

  “At one time, this mountain was considered the heart of Gaia,” he said, his eyes paled from the light. “There used to be a grand castle here.”

  “Whose castle?” I asked.

  “Galahad’s,” he continued. “It’s where he received the shield and it is where it destroyed him. This mountain has been cursed with darkness ever since.”

  The mountain shuddered, creaking and groaning, and daggers of ice fell from the ceiling into the dark abyss below.

  If that happened while we were crossing the bridge, we’d be skewered.

  “I say let the princess go first.” Vera turned her dark eyes on me.

  Alex gave her a look, to which she smirked and turned away.

  “I can’t detect any weaknesses.” Ehren’s eyes fixed on the ice bridge.

  Everyone hesitated, staring at the narrow span of ice. It was our only way, a four-foot wide rainbow of ice, unless we turned back.

  But there was no turning back.

  Something dark and powerful rippled through the air and goose bumps rose up and down my arms.

  I heard them, then—voices. Whispers, like I’d heard in Fleck’s room. Whispers like I’d heard in the hall, begging and pleading, alien and tortured. Otherworldly.

  Fear crawled over me as I whipped my head around, searching.

  The voices stopped.

  “What is it?” Alex stared hard at me.

  “Did you hear that?” I asked.

  His eyes narrowed. “Hear what?”

  Life pulsed all around, dangerous and haunting, as the whispers faded in and out like a dream.

  “That,” I said, pulling out my daggers. My heart raced in my ears as I searched the walls.

  Something was here with us.

  Ehren tilted his head, lips tight as he watched the walls, while Vera held both swords before her, eyes daring anyone and anything to step forward.

  We have to get out of here.

  “The bridge,” I said, fear crawling up my spine. “Now.”

  The others didn’t argue.

  I stepped out onto the ice, cautious so as not to slip or look down. Alex was right behind, one hand on my back and the other clutching his sword. Step by slow step, we all walked out onto the bridge.

  I glanced around at the cavern and my blood turned to ice. The shadows were moving. Dark splotches slid behind the ice like oil, without shape or form, like they were trying to get through. Like the walls were a barrier between this world and the next.

  “Alex,” I said.

  My tone made him pause and his intake of air was sharp.

  The others saw them, too, right as one of the shadows drifted through the ice-wall like a shimmering vapor.

  My heart turned to lead.

  The unseen.

  “Go!” Alex shouted behind me.

  My feet slipped as I skittered along the ice bridge, the others close behind me. More and more unseen began slipping through the ice barrier. There were so many of them. Their whispers grew louder, more vicious and alien, and the ledge we had stood upon mere seconds ago had filled with them.

  Keep going…steady now…

  I froze. More unseen slipped from behind the wall on the other side of the bridge. We were surrounded.

  The anxiety of the others surged behind me.

  “Now what?” Vera growled.

  Alex gripped my arm, holding me close, and the air pulsed from him. Energy rammed into me, coursing through my body and toward the unseen. It moved in a shield of light, arching toward the vapors, hovering at the opposite ledge, and slammed into them. They screamed in a blood-curling chorus of wails and recoiled back, away from the shield.

  Alex focused as his energy drained from him. More energy pulsed behind me as Vera and Ehren positioned themselves to help, creating a light barrier against the unseen, straining to push them back.

  And it was working.

  We started moving forward again, farther along the bridge, their combined power flowing through me. The strain was weighing on them, though, and I knew they couldn’t keep this up much longer. There were simply too many unseen.

  If only I could help. If only I could access my magic and add my strength to theirs.

  But I couldn’t.

  The air shuddered violently, and the wall burst into a million fragments of light.

  The unseen pressed forward again.

  The others gasped behind me as their fear turned my blood cold.

  The unseen swept in like the wind, fast and furious, filling our ears with their horrible keening.

  Agony ripped through my body.

  One of the unseen had fallen upon Vera. She screamed as she fought to push it back, but another came, and another. The unseen descended upon us in a cloud until I could see nothing else.

  Alex yelled something, but I couldn’t understand. The alien voices engulfed every other sound and feeling, and I couldn’t move. It was as though something had taken possession of my body—my soul.

  The torture of the others tore through me like a bolt of electricity, and then I felt Alex’s. I felt his soul like an inferno inside of me, furious and strong. I felt his struggle and torment, his agony as though he were being ripped apart from the inside. I felt the pulse of blood through his heart as though it were my own.

  And it was slowly dying.

  No.

  This couldn’t be happening.

  But it was, and I was powerless against it. Powerless. Always powerless, relying on t
hose around me for protection.

  I had brought them into this place. Alex wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for me, and there was nothing I could do to help him. There was never anything I could do to help.

  And now the unseen were going to take his life.

  Fury boiled deep in my gut and exploded inside of me. It ripped through invisible walls, burning my insides as it burst through my body with a sharp jolt, reaching beyond so that I was overwhelmed with power and…feeling.

  And all I could feel was pain.

  So.

  Much.

  Pain.

  It surrounded me, consumed me, and I wanted to die. I wanted to die so that the pain would end and I would not feel anything ever again.

  With an agonizing heave I collapsed, and I didn’t stop falling.

  Chapter 23

  Hell’s Peak

  The first thing I was aware of was that I was alive.

  The second thing I was aware of made me regret the first.

  I hurt everywhere. Each breath felt like I was expanding my lungs against an iron brace, and my blood felt like streams of liquid fire, slowly melting away my insides.

  But I shouldn’t have been able to feel. I should be dead.

  I remembered the pain and torment as vividly as if it were still happening. I saw their anguish, felt their agony—Alex’s agony.

  Maybe this was my punishment. Maybe this was my consequence for always leading everyone I cared about straight into death’s unshakeable grip. Maybe I would suffer my agony throughout eternity.

  Something warm touched my cheek, soft and gentle.

  That didn’t seem right. If I was supposed to suffer for all I’d done, no one should be comforting me.

  I heard voices, low and murmuring. What were they saying? Why were they here? Shouldn’t I be alone?

  Fingers laced through mine and gripped tightly.

  Touch.

  Real, human touch.

  I set my mind on the feel of it; it was like a bright spot in the darkness, something warm and safe, and I was too afraid to let go. Like if I did, I might fade away into darkness and never return.

  The bright spot grew brighter and brighter until suddenly, I jerked to a sitting position, heaving. Air couldn’t fill my lungs fast enough, and the air was freezing. Was air supposed to be this cold?