Breath of Dragons (A Pandoran Novel)

by Barbara Kloss

  It sounded like he had said kai-thar-ee. "Kytharii?"

  "The dead you speak of. That is their Karthan name, though no one speaks Karthan anymore. As I said before, I was not able to destroy the curse, so I lured them into the Hall of the Dead and tampered with their curse. I made it so they wouldn't wake unless an intruder entered the Hall of the Dead. Regardless, they shouldn't attack you. You're a Draconi." And then he paused, his eyes narrowed. "But you're also a Regius, and I took great pains against that line."

  "Were the Regiuses even around when you tampered with the curse?" I asked.

  "Oh, yes," he said through tight lips. "They were the first of the prominent families who lied about Galahad Estroian. The kytharii you encountered must sense the Regius side of you, though what I can't understand is why you found one on the southern beach and in the ravine. My wards should have made it impossible for them to escape the Hall."

  "Maybe your wards are old," Thad said.

  Arioch's expression was pensive as he rubbed his chin. "No. Something is happening, but I do not yet know what. It's almost as if…" His voice trailed and he looked back at me. "You didn't by chance happen to acquire a pendant from your mother, did you? A little crystal, about this big…" He pinched his forefinger to his thumb.

  "I do have one," I said. "My father gave it to me when I entered this world. He said it had belonged to my mother."

  Arioch looked satisfied. "It did. It's a rare stone, made from dragon fire. It will react to your blood and should overshadow the Regius inside of you."

  "Well, that's great, because I left it in Valdon," I said.

  Arioch rubbed his chin. "Hm. I'm surprised Tran didn't tell you to bring it along. He should have known you would need it. Perhaps he forgot because of his own errand."

  "He drew me a picture of it," I smarted bitterly, digging in my pocket for his folded note.

  Arioch gasped in relief. "Ah, good."

  "Good?" I handed him the slip of paper. "I'm not sure how a drawing is going to help…"

  Even as I watched, Arioch dipped his fingers into the page, and when he pulled them back out, a shimmering crystal dangled upon a silver chain. It was my mother's necklace—the very same one I'd tucked safely away in my bedside drawer.

  I gasped. "How did you…? How did he…?"

  But Thad was the one who actually formed a coherent statement. "How in the blazes did you do that?" His hair was sticking out all over his head, and he looked a little bit crazy.

  Arioch made a face that suggested he wasn't about to divulge his and his brother's artistic talents. Though if the fresco outside were any indication, I thought Arioch's talent was probably greater. "Tran must have remembered a little late," Arioch said, sounding reproachful of Tran even in his absence. "Best put this on." Arioch handed me the necklace and the paper.

  I slipped the chain over my head, and when I looked at the paper, the drawing was no longer there. I folded the note and put it back in my pocket.

  "Don't take that off," Arioch said, holding a finger up as if scolding. "Now, Tran also informed me that Nightshade is in your possession."

  "Nightshade?"

  "That." He pointed to the hilt of my dagger, just visible from beneath my cloak.

  I found it extremely unsettling that another person could know so much more about me than I did.

  Slowly, I pulled it from its sheath. The hilt warmed my palms as if suddenly springing to life, and a thread of warmth slid up my arm and through my torso, where it finally touched the stone now resting on my chest. A connection was made, then glittering runes appeared on the blade, shimmering and sliding over the surface of the metal just like the ones on the magical cuffs. The warmth pulsed in my chest and then faded, and the shimmering runes vanished.

  "If I might ask, how did it come into your possession?" Arioch asked.

  "I found it…in a stream," I replied.

  "Interesting." He studied me, though his thoughts were elsewhere. "A very talented metalworker named Nevan made that blade a very long time ago. It was made with both light and dark magic, and therefore can penetrate even the otherwise obscure boundaries of life and death."

  "Like spectars?" I asked.

  He nodded. "And creatures that should be dead, like the kytharii. It is the only one of its kind. It wasn't made for the stone, per se, but their combined magic should feed one another and keep you protected. As I said, Nevan was very talented."

  I resheathed my dagger. "What happened to Nevan?"

  A shadow passed over Arioch's face. "That is, perhaps, another story for another time. For now, we must focus on the task at hand."

  Yes, the task where I was supposed to march into a tomb of super-strength corpses and find a box. Only… "Arioch." I stood slowly from my stool, clasping my hands. "I came here looking for the box because I had thought it had the power to control the shield. I had felt…pulled to this land. But that isn't the reason I've been pulled here, is it? I was pulled here because of the Draconi. Not because the box will tell me how to overpower the shield."

  Arioch placed a hand on my shoulder and squeezed, his eyes sad as they looked into mine. "No, child. I'm afraid it will not tell you that." And then he paused, struck with a thought. "But the lost lineage of Galahad Estroian will be chronicled there, and if there is any hope in overtaking the shield's power, it would be by his heir."

  Chapter 23

  Hall of the Mostly Dead

  And that was how I found myself standing before the very last place on Gaia I had ever wanted to go: the Hall of the Dead.

  Arioch Prime opened his front door, but the view outside was no longer the city of Karth. The view now boasted an old stone tower, squat and slightly leaning as though time had wearied it of holding shape and, like a middle-aged man, let its weight coalesce near the middle, giving it a sort of bulbous center. Balistrarias marked the walls, dark and much too narrow for anyone to see inside, though it would not keep those inside from peering out. There was a set of arched iron doors at the base of the tower, and engraved across the surface of both doors was the great symbol of the Draconi. The sky above was covered in a thick layer of clouds, providing an eerie backdrop to the ghostly object in front of me. It was like something straight out of a horror film, only this wasn't a film. This was my life. And when I looked back, there was no sign of Arioch's house.

  "How far are we from Karth?" I asked.

  "Only a few miles," he replied, "but I thought bringing you here this way might be easier than walking back through the city. Now, you must remember to keep your pendant on at all times. Just follow the path, and once you're inside, you'll know which way to go."

  "What about the dead?" I asked. "What if they wake up?"

  "They won't—not as long as you wear the necklace. It will keep your Regius blood hidden."

  "And all I have to do is open the box and the breath will be restored?" I asked.

  Arioch shook his head as a gust of wind ruffled his baggy trousers and tunic. "It is not so simple as that. We must perform a ritual in order for it to be restored properly." He put both hands on my shoulders and squeezed, gazing intensely into my eyes. "The box belongs to you, Daria Pandor Regius, last of the Draconi. I did not create such an array of spells and wards to keep you out; approach it with confidence." With a last squeeze, he released my shoulders. "Thaddeus will be here waiting when you return."

  I exchanged a look with Thad. He looked about as wary as I felt. "What about you?" I asked Arioch Prime, but Arioch was no longer there. "Where did he go?"

  Thad grunted. "Typical." His eyes flickered over my face while the wind ruffled his hair. "You sure you wanna do this? I've had nightmares that are more pleasant."

  I looked back at the tower. "I don't see how I have much of a choice."

  "But you heard what he said, Rook. There isn't anything in the box about the power of the shield."

  I sighed, pushing the hair away from my forehead. "I know. But it may have record of the true heir. And besides, I didn
't come all this way just to turn around when I arrived. Maybe…maybe this breath of dragons will be able to help us defeat Eris in other ways."

  Thad's hazel eyes searched mine, and he reached out and grabbed my shoulder. He waited there a moment, seeing how I'd react to his contact, but I didn't pull back. And then he wrapped his arms around me. My body went rigid, and I eventually softened into him, wrapping my arms around him. He rested his chin on my head. "You'll be all right, Rook," he said gently. "You'll get the box and we'll get the blazes out of here and take you right back to Del Can't. And then we'll figure out what to do next. Don't think about Danton yet."

  I snorted into his chest. "I wasn't until you brought him up."

  Thad loosened his grip around me and pulled back to look into my face. "We've got this. I'm not going anywhere." And then he looked past me at the tower, dropping his embrace. "Even though I know I'm gonna have nightmares for months."

  I chuckled and then faced the tower of terror. The wind gusted all around me as if it was trying to fill me with strength, and then slowly and steadily I walked to the entrance. The iron doors seemed to glare at me, each half of the Draconi symbol standing like some invisible threat. With a deep breath and one last glance at Thad, I pushed the door in and stepped inside.

  Power shuddered through me as I walked through the threshold, like a great gust of chilled air. But even as my foot landed on the stone, my necklace pulsed against my sternum. It warmed until it grew hot, sending little rivers of heat through my body. Arioch must have placed some kind of ward even over the door.

  I stood there a moment in the pitch-black while the heat faded into a dull warmth. A torch sprang to life on the wall beside me, illuminating the belly of the tower. From what I could tell, the tower was perfectly hollow inside, and little slices of gray marked the walls where the balistrarias were. Right in the center of the tower, standing in the middle of the stone floor, was a large and elegant sarcophagus, shiny black and perfectly rectangular with writing engraved all over the surface. I couldn't read the writing, however; it was in a language I didn't know. Aside from the sarcophagus, the rest of the chamber was empty. There were no doors or grates in the flooring—nothing that might indicate any sort of passage.

  I had to be missing something.

  I stepped closer to the sarcophagus and trailed my fingers lightly over it. The writing etched in the surface shimmered at my touch, sliding over it like it had done with the cuffs and my dagger. The little stone at my chest pulsed with warmth, and I noticed the raised symbol of the Draconi on the lip of the sarcophagus's lid. The symbol shimmered more brightly than anything else, and when I touched it, it felt warm. Holding my breath, I pushed it in.

  Stone rumbled and I jumped back, startled, watching the sarcophagus rumble backwards across the stone floor until it stopped. The tower sounded extremely quiet. And right where the sarcophagus had been was a stone stair leading deeper underground. With a deep breath, I took the torch from the wall and descended.

  My heart pounded as I walked down, breathing in the cold, stale air. My boots scraped on smooth stone as my little sphere of golden light encased me like a soft protective shell. Light slid over the roughly chiseled walls as beetles and spiders skittered out of sight, and the staircase ended in a tunnel. My knees wobbled as I continued forward, threads of cobwebs brushing over my face. There were so many cobwebs that I pulled my dagger free and swatted the tip of it through the air before me. The tunnel descended deeper, slanting downward, and the stone at the base of my throat pulsed a little warmer.

  My palms sweat though the air was chilled and damp. There were certain points along the tunnel where the air felt thicker, like I was walking through some sort of invisible sludge. Every time my stone pulsed warmer, and I could only deduce that what I was experiencing were more of Arioch's wards. And then my path eventually leveled out and into a great, round chamber. It was like gazing at the underbelly of an underground dome of a cathedral. I held my torch up to get a better view, and my next step froze in place.

  Corpses. Thousands of them.

  It was like some kind of grand library, but instead of bookshelves, there were rows upon rows of stone beds with gray and rotted bodies lying on top of them. Arms were folded neatly over abdomens, eyes closed as though they were all sleeping. They were the exact same creatures we'd fought on the beach and seen down in the ravine, the ones Arioch had called the kytharii.

  My pulse skyrocketed while the torch trembled in my hands. For a long, terrible second I just stood there in horror, the stone burning hot against my skin, while I waited for one of them to wake. I could hear the inhuman sound of their cries even in my mind, and if even one of them woke, I wouldn't stand a chance. I knew how fast they could run.

  A slight breeze moved over my damp forehead.

  Keep going, it said. The way is safe for you.

  I noticed a small, arched doorway on the opposite side of the round chamber. I took a deep breath, and with a death-like grip on my torch and dagger, I tiptoed forward. Slow and steady, not wanting to make a sound lest it wake this horde of demons. My eyes flickered everywhere as I moved, lithe and catlike, and before I knew it, I was on the other side and through the doorway.

  Another pulse of energy moved through my body and faded. Another ward. I finally exhaled and glanced back. Nothing had stirred. With another deep breath, I looked ahead. The tunnel descended farther.

  If I even made it out of this alive, I was going to have nightmares for years.

  Maybe not. Alex will probably kill you when he finds out you came down here.

  True.

  My boots padded softly on the stone floor, and the cobwebs grew thicker. A couple of times, I paused to make sure I'd cleared them all away and almost had a heart attack when I encountered a black spider the side of my hand. I hated bugs.

  The tunnel eventually ended in a small antechamber that branched into three tunnels.

  Well, now which way?

  I held the torch before each, though it didn't make a difference. They were all identical in the small sphere of light cast by my torch. Back and forth I walked, trying to decide which tunnel to take. Arioch had said I would know the way, but I couldn't tell which one I should…

  My necklace warmed before the one on the far right. Just to make sure I wasn't imagining things, I walked back before the other two. No, the stone had definitely responded to the one on the right. So, with another deep breath, I headed down that one.

  I almost turned back. I'd gone no farther than about ten feet when the tunnel widened and the walls hollowed out, forming more stone beds with hundreds of more corpses. I was walking down a hall lined with dead bodies, and even though I kept to the very center, they were still close enough to reach out and grab me. The stone burned hot at my neck. I walked fast, trying hard to keep myself from running because I didn't want to make a single noise, and after what felt like forever, the tunnel of bodies ended at a pair of bronze doors with yet another giant Draconi symbol engraved upon them. The bronze metal looked wet and shiny beneath the light of my torch. I pushed one open. The metal felt cold beneath my fingertips, and it opened without sound. I stepped inside.

  I stood at the edge of a high ledge, looking over a deep pit. It was perfectly round, like a great turret that had somehow sunken deep into the earth, and there was a wooden ramp that spiraled down along the inside, deeper into the earth. I sighed.

  Seriously?

  Down and down I walked, hugging the wall close, trailing my hand with the dagger along the wall while I held the torch outward with my other hand. Water drip-drip-dripped in the distance, plunking in a nearby pool, but the pit was otherwise silent.

  I really had to be insane to keep going.

  No comment.

  Conscience, you can start helping or you can shut up.

  The ramp finally leveled out into a shallow pool, and there was a narrow doorway in the wall. My boots splashed through the water, and I walked through the doorway and into a ne
w tunnel, only to run into an iron gate blocking my further passage. My heartbeat skipped. Had I gone the wrong way? Had my necklace only warmed because of the corpses?

  I held the torch against the gate, trying to see beyond, but there was only more tunnel, then nothing but darkness. I glanced behind at the shallow pool reflecting some of the torchlight.

  Well, now what?

  Just as I was turning to look back at the gate, the light from my torch reflected upon something on the wall. I moved the torch to try to catch the gleam again, and I saw it—a rusted, metal ring dangling from a chain that was threaded through a small hole in the ceiling. Very slowly, I walked toward it, and when my fingers brushed the cool metal of the ring, the stone warmed on my skin.

  A moment's hesitation, and then I tugged the chain. Metal squealed and gears ground, and the iron gate rose into the ceiling, leaving only little daggers of iron poking through. I exhaled and continued, praying that the gate didn't close behind me. The narrow corridor descended deeper, and then the path ended in a stone wall. It was a dead end.

  I moved my torch over it, looking for an indentation, a marking—anything—but the rock was one giant slab of smooth granite. Trying not to panic, I took a slow, deep breath.

  "It's okay," I said to myself. "All you have to do is just turn around and go back the way you came."

  The little stone warmed at my neck, and I wrapped my fingers around it and held it up so that I could glare at it.

  "Well, make up your mind! You're the one that warmed up when I came this way." And then realizing I was talking to a stone, I let go of it, pressed my forehead to the wall, and sighed.

  The wall moved.

  It only moved in an inch before it stopped, but it was enough to scare me half to death, and I jumped back. The wall didn't look like it had moved, and there were no new markings on it. I put my hand on it and tried pushing. Nothing. I put my forehead on it again. Still, nothing. I kicked it, but that only resulted in an aching foot. Had I imagined it?