Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (32 page)

The snow fell harder, burying the road beneath it. Thankfully, there were huge pines to guide us, and our path became a river of white, twisting and turning between the trees, rising and falling with the landscape. The snow softened the punch of our gallop, pattering out muffled
thump-thump-thumps
. There were no other travelers on the road. No, I was the only one crazy enough to be riding in this weather, but I was also probably the only one being hunted in it.

My horse knew the road, anticipating turns and sweeps without hesitation or guidance. My hands ached from clutching his mane so tightly, but I was thankful Danton had given me gloves. The wind was so frigid my fingers definitely would've suffered from frostbite.

Just as Danton had said, it wasn't long before the white river split in two. The trail of snow leading left was much narrower than the one leading right, but, according to Danton, the narrow trail was the one I needed to take. My painted stallion, however, pulled toward the wider path—the one I assumed led straight to Bristol—so this time I intervened. He tugged away, insistent on the main path, but I didn't relent until my horse, albeit begrudgingly, followed my lead and galloped on down the narrow path.

The shadows were darker here, and the trees pressed closer to the path, looming on either side of us like great walls of pine. The trees blocked most of the wind and snow, so our tread sounded unusually loud in the stillness of the forest. A crow cawed in the distance, startled from its quietude by our tread, and in a whip of air and sprinkling of snow, it took off deeper into the forest. Once we'd gone a few miles, I slowed the stallion to a trot and peeked over my shoulder. All I could see were the looming black shadows of the trees with a seam of white snaking through to where it was swallowed by darkness. I felt alone and a little afraid out here in the dark without any real idea where I was, but at least no one followed us—not yet, anyway. Something drew my attention back to the trail, in the direction we were headed, and a cold unease crawled up my spine. The air felt suddenly…colder, and the forest fell quiet and still. My horse's ears twitched, and then he stopped short with a snort.

"What is it, boy?" I asked, rubbing his neck. His head nodded and he started walking in reverse.

I squinted up ahead, farther down the trail, but I couldn't see anything beyond the darkness. My horse took another step back, and I squeezed his body with my legs. "Hold on…" Using my senses, I did a quick sweep of the darkness ahead, but all I felt in all directions was ice cold. I shivered and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "There's nothing up there," I spoke to the horse, though I said it more to convince myself.

The horse whinnied in disagreement, still forcing a retreat. That's when I noticed the obelisk to my right, nestled between two huge pines.

I dismounted and landed in the snow with a soft thud, then guided my horse toward the obelisk. The symbols on the obelisk were smeared by weather and abandonment, and there were pocks and holes in places—probably from birds—making the carvings bleed together in many places. I tugged off one glove, and the wind bit at my fingers as I reached out to touch the obelisk. I ran my fingers over the strange symbols, and was surprised to find the stone warm. The obelisk pulsed with it, soft and subtle as though there were a fire inside of it, and then I realized the snow didn't touch its base. It covered the ground everywhere else but stopped a few inches away from the obelisk, leaving a ring of dark earth exposed. I didn't think anything
forgotten
should be warm like this, but I didn't know enough about the obelisk to know what it meant. Danton had only said it would mark a hidden path, and that information had seemed sufficient at the time. He wouldn't lead me into a trap, would he?

My horse whinnied, drawing my attention back to the narrow road behind us. The shadows seemed even darker than before, and my nose and throat burned from the cold. I made another sweep with my senses, but I still couldn't find anything. I rubbed my horse's nose, our breaths mingling in the air. "I don't like it either," I whispered, thankful I wasn't completely alone out here, even if my only companion was a horse. "Let's try to find this trail of Danton's, okay? And then I promise we can rest once I find a good spot."

The horse snorted, but he didn't resist as I led him farther into the trees and away from the road. I thought about using magic to make a light so I could see the trail, but something kept me from doing it. We could hide in the darkness, but even the smallest of lights in this forest would be like lighting a beacon, and for some reason, I didn't think the crows were the only creatures out here with me. Come to think of it, I hadn't heard one in a while.

After a few minutes of searching in the dark and snow, I was fairly confident I'd found the trail. It wasn't much wider than a walking path. Due to years of neglect, the underbrush had almost taken over, but we were able to navigate it all right, considering. I walked side by side with my horse in the dark. The snow wasn't very deep beneath the trees, and walking helped keep my blood moving. Danton hadn't mentioned how long this trail went before reaching the Olde Road, and I hadn't thought to ask. I had been too concerned with getting the heck out of there. If I remembered where Bristol was in relation to the main roads, it should be a solid day of walking for my horse and me—at least at this pace. Even so, I knew I needed to find a place to rest for a few hours, and soon, or I'd collapse in the middle of this trail. I was exhausted from everything that had happened, and if I met any enemies at this point, I was as good as dead.

It was about an hour before I found the right place. By that time, I'd taken to holding on to my horse more for support than for guidance, and more than once his soft snort in my ear startled my head from its involuntary droop. I wished I knew his name. He was risking a lot for me, and I didn't even know what to call him. Finally, we came to a small outcropping of snow-covered boulders and thick underbrush that would do the job perfectly. I didn't think I could walk another ten yards, anyway.

I led my horse off the trail and we navigated the huge boulders and shrubbery. We moved slowly, though, because neither of us could afford to make a misstep and twist an ankle right now. I came across a depression in the snow, nestled between two pines, and a little more protected from the cold. Very carefully, I led my horse down with me and under the cover of trees. He shifted on his hooves, clearly unhappy with my choice.

"Sorry, boy," I said. "But this is better than collapsing in the middle of the trail."

He made a little grunting sound deep in his throat as he dug at the ground.

"No fire. I can't risk it."

He nudged my hand with his nose.

"I'm sorry, but it's too dangerous. We still don't know if there's anyone out here or not."

He made a snort that sounded very much like a
harrumph
.

I rubbed his nose. "I don’t need a lot of time. I promise. Wake me if you hear anything?"

He stomped a hoof and turned away from me to nibble on snow. I hunkered down in the crevice, curled up into a ball and pulled my cloak tighter. Now that I was lying down, my body felt as though it were sinking into the ground, joint by joint. My lids were lead, and the last thing I remembered was my horse playing tug of war with a berry holding resolutely to its branch.

My eyelids snapped open. I couldn't hear…anything. Not even the wind. I glanced up to where I'd last seen my horse tugging at a berry, but he wasn't standing there any more. In fact, I couldn’t see him standing anywhere.

My heart pumped faster as I sat up, senses on high alert while I reached for the hilt of my dagger. The brooch at my throat suddenly burned hot, and the back of my neck prickled as my hair stood on end. Someone was out here with me, and it wasn't my horse. Where was that blasted animal, anyway?

I crawled forward on my forearms, searching the snow for prints—anything that could clue me in as to where my horse had wandered off to. There was a patch of ruffled snow from where he'd been tugging at that stubborn berry. Victory for him—the berry was gone, but so was he, and there were tracks leading deeper into the woods. It was too dark to see where they ended.

I cursed at his absence, for leaving me alone in the dark and in the bitter cold, because seriously…what kind of horse does that? A stupid horse—that kind. And so, of course, now I had to follow his tracks.

I stood and cursed again, my gloved hands clutching tight to my dagger as I crept from my hiding spot. My boots slipped on the snow a few times, but I crawled out with the help of a few bushes and followed the hoof prints. Stupid, stupid horse.

There was a rustling overhead. I froze, heart pounding as I watched a cloud of snow trickle down from a tree branch and onto the forest floor.

Silence.

I swallowed, my dagger trembling in my hands. So help me, that horse wasn't going to get any more berries ever.

A loud caw sawed through the darkness and I jumped. There was a percussion of wings and a huge black crow whipped over my head, flying so low my hair wisped across my eyes, and then it was gone. I clutched my free hand over my chest, heaving. Okay, so maybe I could see why that guard back there hated crows. I kept walking, and the tracks stopped. Right at the trail. They didn't go back on themselves. They were just…gone.

No matter where I looked, in every direction, the snow lay untouched. It was as if my horse had walked to this point and vanished. I flexed my fingers around the hilt of my dagger, staring at those tracks as if they would suddenly reveal where he'd gone and what had happened to him, but they kept staring back at me as irrefutable evidence. He was gone. That two-faced, berry-munching mammal had left me out here, in the middle of Gaia knew where, alone.

A great gust of wind howled through the trees, barreling from farther down the path, swirling the snow and ripping through the lower branches. The wind subsided, and I saw a shadow right in the middle of the trail, farther down, and it wasn't my horse. Something told me it wasn't human, either.

I reached out with my senses to feel it, but before I'd made it halfway, I immediately jerked them back. I'd never felt anything like it before—such pure, unadulterated…evil. Cold and malevolent and deadly. Even at a distance, it had grabbed hold of me and pulled with inhuman strength, as if it could rip my soul from my body where I stood. My body trembled with a chill that touched my bones, and terror wrapped icy fingers around my heart.

I backed away, shaking, eyes fixed on the shadow while feeling the way behind me with my other hand. I knew I had to get out of here—now. Then something rammed into the back of my head, and my entire world went dark.

20

ALEXANDER

V
era took a turn for the worse. She'd succumbed to another seizure that'd left her skin pale and translucent, and the veins in her temple were an unsettling shade of blue.

"What did you do to her!" Thaddeus yelled at Lif, but Lif only shook his head.

Thaddeus shoved him aside and knelt at the side of her bed, checking her pulse. "I told you your hypnotics are too strong! There's barely a pulse!"

"If I made them any weaker, the pain would kill her." Lif's voice was too calm.

"Your
hypnotics
are killing her!"

Lif placed a hand on Thaddeus's shoulder. "No, the poison is. And she doesn't seem to be fighting it."

Thaddeus's jaw went slack. "What do you mean, she's not fighting it? You're saying she
wants
to die?"

Lif pinched his lips together.

"The blazes! V's a fighter. She would never let something stupid like poison take her out."

"Then, perhaps, you should remind her."

Thaddeus's expression set with determination, and he grabbed her hand between both of his and squeezed it.

Lif inclined his head to me and whispered, "I was wrong to send him away before."

"Don't be an idiot, V. Hellfire. Do you hear me?" Thaddeus knelt beside the bed, still holding her hand. "Don't give in. I swear on my pathetic existence that if you wake up I'll never bother you again. Spirits, I'll never talk to you again, if that's what you want…it'll be hard, but I'll do it. Just don't give up, do you hear me? We need you, V."

A tremor moved through her body, but Thaddeus held fast to her hand and placed his other hand gently on her forehead. The tremor subsided and a whimper escaped her lips again as her head lolled to the side.

"I'm not leaving," Thaddeus said to Vera. "Not unless you want me to." Thaddeus's eyes moved to their hands. "All right, I'll stay."

I noticed Vera was holding tight to his hand, and I suddenly felt as if I was intruding on something. Lif and I exchanged a glance, but Thaddeus didn't notice. He was only watching Vera.

"I'll wait outside," I whispered. "Let me know if something changes…?"

Thaddeus nodded, then Lif, Ehren, and I stepped out of the room.

The hours passed slowly, and Thaddeus didn't leave her bedside. On occasion, he'd open the door to peek his head through, asking for more linens or herbs, which Lif had ready, but for the most part the door remained closed. At some point early morning, Vera's fever broke, but the light outside was bright by the time Thaddeus finally emerged from her room, stumbling and bumbling and delirious.

"How is she?" I stood up and wiped my eyes.

"Rude, irritable, and making a lot of death threats." He smiled weakly. "So basically back to normal."

I grinned, overcome with relief. "May I see her?"

"Su—" he yawned with a stretch. "Sure."

I followed him into the room, surprised to see Vera propped up on pillows and awake. The small window beside her bed had been opened and she stared thoughtfully out, but when she heard the door open, she turned to look at me. Her skin was still pale, but no longer translucent, and the spark of life had returned to her eyes. I took a full breath—the first one I'd taken since she'd fallen ill. She was going to be all right.