Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (16 page)

"I hope his pockets are reinforced with steel," I said.

Thaddeus laughed and patted me on the back. "There you are, Del Can't. You're all doom and gloom these days, like you're stuck with a rain cloud over your head—I was beginning to wonder if the sun would ever come out. I've missed your snark."

I eyed him sideways. "I know what you mean. That rain cloud keeps following me everywhere, so I've taken to calling it Thaddeus."

He chuckled.

By the time we got to security, Thaddeus and I passed through without issue, but Vera set off the alarms. What I'd mistaken for hairpins were actually needle-like daggers holding her bun in place. Of course, they were confiscated.

We eventually made it through security to an escalator—Thaddeus and Vera both looked scared out of their wits, particularly at the end when the stairs folded at the top and Thaddeus thought the floor was going to eat him—and to our gate. Our plane was almost done boarding. We breezed through an almost empty security check, down another escalator, across the jetway, and onto a full plane. People glanced up and stared as we squeezed down the aisle. When I found our seats, Thaddeus sat by the window, I sat in the aisle, and Vera sat in between. I showed them how to fasten their seatbelts. Thaddeus tried helping Vera with hers, but she slapped his hand so hard the girl seated across the aisle from me leaned forward to see what was going on. I shrugged and smiled at her. She gave me a huge smile in return and her cheeks turned bright pink.

"Del Can’t…" Thaddeus leaned over Vera's lap, and Vera scowled at him as if she were being violated. "This oversized hunk of metal is supposed to fly?"

I held a finger to my lips and nodded.

"Like in the air?" he asked, dumbfounded.

"Quiet, you idiot," Vera hissed.

"If I had a quid for every time you called me an idiot, I'd be rich enough to buy Castle Regius and probably the rest of Valdon," Thaddeus said.

Vera opened her mouth to retort, but the loudspeaker came on. Thaddeus jumped in his seat and kicked the chair in front of him so hard, the man turned around and grumbled at him.

"Sorry," Thaddeus whispered. "Just, uh…thought I saw a spider."

The man grumbled something that wasn't very flattering, but turned back around.

Soon, our plane sped down the runway. The wheels lifted, gravity pulled, and Thaddeus screamed. Even Vera sat beside me sweating, white-knuckled and terrified. The passengers seated around us peeked over—including the rosy-cheeked girl from earlier.

"It's their first time flying, and he's scared of heights," I said.

The other passengers gave me knowing smiles. One even offered a Valium, which I didn't accept, tempting as it was. Once we leveled out, I introduced a star-struck Thaddeus and Vera to the televisions on the backs of the headrests before them. It took a bit of patience and constant shushing—Thaddeus kept trying to grab the people on the television screens—but eventually I had them both wearing headphones and watching The Desolation of Smaug.

They started commenting—loudly—about the movie, once again infuriating the Italian man seated in front of us. Vera remarked how all dwarves are idiots, and then she and Thaddeus started discussing which weapons and maneuvers should have been used in such and such situation. I thought the Italian man was going to rip their headphones off and strangle them with the cord. Then the dragon came on screen. Vera and Thaddeus yelped, cowering in their seats, and that's when I flicked the movie off. It took a few minutes of vicious whispering to convince them the dragon wasn't real, and then I flicked the television back on. They went back to watching it, wide-eyed and mistrusting with their heads bent toward one another.

"First time watching television, too?" the girl asked beside me. She'd turned her entire body in her chair to face me, and she was still beaming. She looked Daria's age, and she sounded American.

"They scare easily," I said, starting to turn away.

"So, where's home?" she asked.

I looked back at her. It's a sad thing when you realize an innocent question from a harmless young woman puts you on high alert. She was still smiling at me, pink-cheeked and attentive. I wasn't one for small talk, but she was starting to look embarrassed by my silence. I felt bad.

"Ah, I don't have a home, really. I'm always traveling," I said.

She brightened immediately. "Oh, that sounds awesome! Do you, like, travel for work?"

I never could figure how the word "like" had become such an abused verb. "Yes."

"What do you do?" she asked, so intrigued she was leaning in the aisle toward me, and had to move back a little when a stewardess passed.

"Hm, it's complicated. I suppose you could say I'm an attaché of sorts."

She thought about this while tucking bleached blonde hair behind her ear. I doubted she understood what the word meant, but she didn't ask. "That's cool," she said. "I live in Santa Barbara. Know where that is?"

"I do. It's beautiful there."

"Right?! Oh, my gosh, I love it!" Teenage girl was fully unleashed now. "Yeah, actually I'm a freshman in college there. I'm originally from San Diego, though. Have you been there?"

I nodded, slowly, wondering if she always spoke in exclamation points.

"My parents wanted me to live at home and go to a junior college, but like…I just needed to
get out
. College is the time when we're supposed to be reckless and free to experience life, you know? And my parents are
really
strict. Can you imagine how awful that would be?"

I wished Daria were here to enlighten her. Actually, it fascinated me that this girl was Daria's age.

"So are you working to pay for school, then?" I asked.

"Oh, no…my parents are paying for it, but I'm taking out extra loans so that I can, like, have some fun, you know?"

First world problems are, like, the worst thing ever.

"I'm Jordan, by the way," she said.

"Nice meeting you, Jordan. I'm sorry, but if you don't mind, I'm exhausted…"

"Oh…yeah. Sure. I mean, no, I totally get it," she stammered. "Yeah. I should probably try to sleep, too. This time change is a major killer."

Major killer.

Huh.

I smiled and then rested my head back against my headrest and shut my eyes. I'd reached my limit on idle chatter. Reckless Jordan was giving me a migraine.

But that short conversation took my thoughts back to Daria. I had no idea how much time I had before she married Danton. In addition to that, Stefan had put Operation Ark in motion—what if I ran out of time before I even started on this path? Where would Daria fall in all of this? Was she even safe in Orindor?

I'd never expected to fall in love with her. She was my friend, and on those rare moments when I wasn't worried about being emasculated—a large concern for a boy of thirteen—I might've even admitted she was my best friend. She had a way of pulling me out of my natural solemnity that no one else could. I'd always felt…lighter around her. As if the ground were a little more buoyant and the world a little brighter. At the time I'd thought it was because of her innocence. She didn't know the darkness on the other side, sheltered as she was by Alaric. She didn't know how cruel people could be, and she didn't know of the evils that destroyed lives. Evils I saw almost on a daily basis on Gaia. She didn't know what it was like to take another man's life.

Now, after everything that had transpired, I knew it had nothing to do with her innocence. It was who she was to the core. I was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Over the years, my time with her became a sanctuary—a place where the pressures and politics of Gaia disappeared. With her, I could dream and hope and…be. I hadn't been concerned when my mother reminded me Daria would be intended for the son of this lord or that lord. It changed monthly, since none of them knew Daria existed yet, and these were all just whims and fancies of King Darius. Still, it had no bearing on our friendship. Then that day happened.

It was a wedding for the daughter of the London aegis. It was one of the rare times Alaric had taken Daria overseas. He wasn't worried Daria might overhear something about Gaia since half the wedding guests were ignorant locals. All talk of Gaia had been strictly forbidden.

I could still see Daria and her father exiting the taxi and crossing the street to our hotel. I'd been sitting in the lobby, waiting for them to join my parents for lunch. Daria wore a dress. I'd never seen Daria in a dress before, at least that I could remember. It was a fitted black dress, and the skirt fell just to her knees. She wore black tights with tall boots and a white wool coat that was a little too big for her. Her cheeks and lips were pink from cold, and there was a little curl to her dark hair, which was getting blown all over the place by the wind. The sight of her paralyzed me where I stood. I didn't meet them at the doors. I just stood there, mute and dumb while a wind-blown Daria and Alaric walked through the spinning doors.

I'd always known she was a girl but suddenly the sight of her in a dress made my fourteen-year-old self really understand what that meant. I couldn't stop staring at her. Daria was too flustered from wind and travel to notice, thank the spirits.

"Enjoying the view?" Alaric cleared his throat as he approached.

I realized my eyes were still locked on Daria. I glanced back at Alaric. He hadn't been referring to the streets of London.

"Alex!" Daria beamed, bolting around her father, toward me.

"Hey…" My voice cracked, and I cleared my throat. My face warmed and my palms were slick. I wiped them on my pants. Right as Daria wrapped both arms around me tight. She smelled like shampoo, and I suddenly wanted to bury my face in her hair.

I hugged her back too late, my motions stiff, my arms shaky.

She noticed. She pulled back, eyeing me. "You okay?"

I blinked down at her. Her eyes were huge and round and concerned. There were so many shades of blue and grey in her eyes. Some browns, too, right near her pupil. Beautiful. And her lips. I had the sudden urge to touch them—feel them. With mine.

"Fine. Sorry." I cleared my throat again, glancing away. Anywhere but her mouth. "I think I stood up too fast. How was your, um, flight?"

Daria reached up and touched my forehead. I felt that touch everywhere, and my body reacted to her in a way it never had before.

"Hm, you feel a little clammy." She chewed on her full, bottom lip, and then she pulled her hand away. "Did you catch something on the plane? There sure were a lot of people hacking on
our
flight."

"I…don't know," I said. "Maybe."

"Dad, why don't you go on with the Andersons," she said, threading her fingers through mine like she usually did. I liked how her hand fit in mine. Too much. "I'll stay here with Alex."

The idea of being alone with her right then terrified me. And beguiled me. But beguiling would get me in trouble. "I'm fine. Really," I said.

"Clearly." She gave me that look. "I ate on the plane, anyway. But I need
you
to feel better. We can hang out in your room until they get back. Maybe we can
both
take a nap."

And that wasn't helping at all.

Alaric, sensing this, smiled at me then looked down at his daughter. "No, I think we need to let Alexander get some rest. You've got the remainder of the weekend to conspire together, but there will be no conspiring if you don't let him have a moment to gather himself."

I exchanged a look with Alaric, and Alaric nodded. Daria looked disappointed, but she didn't argue. How could she? I was "sick." She left with Alaric and my parents, and when they returned, I'd gotten myself under control. But I was forever changed.

I'd always found Daria pretty, but somehow I'd missed that she was beautiful. I realized why my mother had whispered her warnings to me all those years—why they'd happened more often as of late. My mother had seen what I'd been too proud to acknowledge: I had fallen hopelessly in love with the princess of Gaia.

Who was now on her way toward marrying the one man I hated. Just thinking of Danton's hands touching her skin made me want to kill someone. Anyone.

"Del Can't…?" Thaddeus whispered.

I opened my eyes and tilted my head a fraction. Thaddeus was leaning over Vera again, but this time she didn't notice. She'd fallen asleep with her head on Thaddeus's shoulder.

"You okay?" Thaddeus asked.

"Fine. Why?"

He nodded toward my lap. In my hand was an empty plastic cup, which I was currently crushing into a pulp. I unclenched my fist and wedged the now destroyed cup behind the mesh of the seat in front of me, and then I leaned back with an exhale.

"Bad dream?" Thaddeus teased.

"No, actually, it was a nice dream. I murdered you."

Thaddeus snickered and settled back in his chair, careful not to move Vera. "Hey, Del Can't?"

"Hm?"

"Ah, don't tell her…?" he whispered. He wasn't referring to my dream.

I grinned and shut my eyes again. "I won't say a word."

We eventually landed at LAX. On our way off the plane, Reckless Jordan handed me a small piece of paper and hurried off. Vera glared after her, and then frowned at me. I shrugged. Once we were off the plane, I unfolded the paper.

"Is that some kind of code?" Thaddeus asked, peering over my shoulder. "And it's a little weird she's asking you to call her gorgeous, but I just don't get those numbers below. There's no pattern, no sequence or repetition…"

I laughed. "It's a phone number, Thaddeus." When he still didn't understand, I said, "It's a way to contact someone. I used a series of numbers like these to contact Clara."

Vera ripped the paper from my hand, tore it in so many pieces it would've put a paper shredder to shame, and then threw the pieces in a trashcan that was rolling past, being pulled by a janitor.

She shoved my shoulder. "I can't believe you!"

"What? I didn't do anything!"

"Why did she give you her contact information, then?" Her finger was ramrod straight and centimeters from my nose.

I took a step back, laughing. "Look. She started talking to me on the plane while you two were, ah"—I remembered Thaddeus—"watching the movie. She asked me a question. I couldn't
not
answer her—"