Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (38 page)

BOOK: Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4)
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I peered down at him.

"Del Can't, do you have any idea how valuable this stuff is? Their venom is one of the deadliest poisons out there—if not
the
most deadly.
And
, obviously, it's incredibly rare. Come on, it won't take long."

The pleading look in his eyes made me think telling him no would be like telling a small child they couldn't eat their Christmas cookies. Tantrums would ensue. "You have an ampoule?" I asked.

He pulled a small glass phial from somewhere in his pants and jiggled it in the air with that blasted smirk on his face.

I sighed. "Fine. But hurry."

It took Thaddeus all of three and a half minutes to collect his sample, and he was so giddy that it was another ten before his feet touched the ground again. And when they did, he still walked with a bounce to his step, as if the ground were one giant trampoline. Which was impressive, considering the ground had turned into sludge. My boots made sucking sounds with every step.

"I'll probably be able to buy my own estate with the profits of this bad boy," Thaddeus was saying. "Assuming there's an estate to buy when this bloody war is over. And then I'll finally be able to buy a full set of glassware
and
have the space to store it all."

"Glassware?" Vera asked.

"For my potions," Thaddeus clarified.

"I thought you already had glassware," I said.

"That pile of rubbish at your place?" Thaddeus snorted. "Nah, I want to get the real stuff. None of this piecemeal business where the gradations are all off and I have to jury-rig them together with whetstones and leather strips."

I frowned at him over my shoulder. "That was you?"

He grimaced, realizing he'd just been caught.

"Do you have any idea how much money I've spent on whetstones?" I asked.

"Considering I lived with you for three years…" He looked thoughtful. "Probably a lot."

I arched a brow. "Those aren't cheap, you know."

"Well, in my defense, it's not like I hid them from you."

"Has anyone ever noticed Thaddeus is the only one who ever comes to his defense?" Vera offered.

I chuckled, shaking my head.

"I am so unappreciated," Thaddeus said. "Anyway, you might've noticed if you walked into the shed every now and then."

"Maybe if you hadn't threatened my imagination with your talk of noxious vapors, I would have." I eyed him. "Or was that the purpose of the noxious vapor warnings?"

He beamed and shoved a piece of grass in his mouth.

I grumbled and narrowed my eyes at the soggy land ahead.

"I'm surprised, Thaddeus," Vera said. "I had no idea you loved alchemy so much."

"You'd be surprised by a lot of things you'd learn about other people if you just got over yourself and stopped being so damned rude all the time," Thaddeus said. It wasn't a joke.

Well. That escalated quickly.

Vera didn't say one word in response, and I didn't dare look behind me. I was too afraid I'd turn into a pillar of salt if I did.

The two of them didn't exchange another word with each other the rest of the way—or with me. I felt as if I'd intruded on something again, so I kept ahead of them, always scanning the blurred landscape. Occasionally, I'd peek behind me to make sure they still followed. There were always paced a few yards apart from one another, but somehow those few yards seemed like an entire gulf, and their gazes were fixed somewhere far away from each other, as if pretending they couldn't see the other person would actually make them disappear.

We didn't see any more barghests. We also didn't see any more blue sky, which was the reason for the former, and by late afternoon, I began to see the shadows of Ravenshelm. It was difficult to make out in the rain, but the symmetry was undeniable.

"That it?" Thaddeus asked. He was soggier than a drowned rat, and I knew I couldn't look any better.

"Yes," I said.

"You're sure it's safe?" Vera appeared on my other side, wiping the rain from the tip of her nose. It was all I could see of her face in the depths of her hood.

"No, I'm not," I admitted. "But it's our best chance right now."

Thaddeus shrugged. "Whatever you say, boss."

The closer we came to Ravenshelm, the more the town's shadows differentiated into shapes. Steep rooftops and gables and chimneys—the only parts visible beyond the tall palisades—but there were no ravens.

"Hey, aren't there supposed to be a bunch of ravens in
Ravens
helm?" Thaddeus asked.

I set my mouth and gave an affirmative nod as I stepped up to the gate, double doors of thick oak. I raised a fist and knocked on a closed slat about eye-level. The sound drowned in the pouring rain. I waited a few moments, prepared to knock again, but right as my knuckle hit the wood, the slat slid open. A pair of dark eyes appeared on the other side. I didn't know those eyes.

"I'm here to see Eldar Halmstead," I said.

The eyes jumped accusatively around our group then slammed on top of me like a gavel. "And who are you?" The voice was raw and raspy.

Three guards appeared on the palisades, crossbows aimed down at us. Either the people of Ravenshelm were on high alert, or these weren't Ravenshelm's guards. Whatever the reason, I decided not to give this guard my real name—not until I knew what was going on here. He hadn't recognized me yet. Maybe it was a good thing we'd been trudging through mud and rain for the last few hours. "I'm a cousin." Which wasn't admitting much, since everyone knew the Halmsteads had loads of family.

"Cousin, eh?" he drawled. "What do I look like?"

"Not much, considering we can't see you," Thaddeus interjected.

The man's eyes narrowed, and a third guard joined the other two above.

"My name is Rune," I lied, though it was a nickname Eldar Halmstead had given my father long ago. Eldar would at very least think it was him.

His eyes darkened. "I ain't never heard of no Rune."

"Good, because it really only matters if Eldar has," I said. "If
Eldar
requires more information, I'll give it then. We'll wait here."

Those angry eyes did another round of accusations before the slat slammed shut. The three guards above stayed in place.

"Leave the talking to me, please," I hissed at Thaddeus.

"
Rune
…?" he whispered.

I flashed him a look that said every bit of
shut the hell up
.

He—predictably—ignored me. "Do they usually threaten all their guests with crossbow bolts?" He had his hand at his brow, shielding his eyes from the rain while observing the three guards above. "Hellfire! Look at all that bird poop up there! Can you imagine being a chimney sweep in this town?"

My lips thinned with irritation.

"You'd think we'd have seen at least one raven by now. Or do they keep behind the town walls? Are they ground ravens?"

"Please stop talking," I said.

If he'd intended to listen to me this time, I had no way of knowing because there was a clunk on the other side of the door, followed by a loud scraping as a bar slid from its bracings. One of the doors swung inward just enough to let us through. Those eyes reappeared, this time accompanied by a crooked nose and two puffy red cheeks. His squat shape was covered in so much armor he looked like a walking thimble. He wasn't dressed in Ravenshelm's armor, or even that of the north. There was no raven insignia on the breast or orange and yellow epaulette on the shoulder to show the colors of Alioth.

The gate closed behind us and the men atop the palisades lowered their weapons. "This way." He started down the muddy road.

The town of Ravenshelm was quiet, and a thin fog settled like an ill omen. Still, there was no sign of ravens. I hadn't been to this town often, but I knew not even the worst of blizzards could keep those bloody ravens away.

Though the rain kept the town quiet, the town itself didn't seem to have suffered from battle. The storefronts lining the main street were still intact. From here, I could see the face of the theater at the far end of the road. I'd attended it once with Lord Tosca, and we'd watched the performance of
Alongrie
—a satire about the evils of the aristocracy. Lord Tosca hadn't enjoyed it very much, and I couldn't say I had either.

I also wasn't so far removed from the public that I couldn't understand why it might resonate with the people. The farmers of Alioth were the hardest hit by King Darius's rule. King Darius had his hands deep in their pails of hard-earned produce, and the people had every reason to resent him for it. And being that the town of Ravenshelm was so far north, they were the last to receive any benefit from their governing lord, let alone their king.

It wasn't that Lord Tosca was a blueblood at heart. He just didn't know differently. He'd been born into privilege, much like the rest of Gaia's aristocracy, and though he was more sensitive than most to the needs of his people, he still wasn't as sensitive as they needed him to be. As the saying goes, a person can't know what they don't know, and though my job to Lord Tosca had been in serving as his aegis, I also took it upon myself to help him see and understand what was happening to his people so he might better serve them. He'd always listened to me, and I'd been honored by that, but my work had been cut short by the festival games and what had ensued.

Our escort turned a corner, where a handful of guards waited for us, swords drawn. I stopped in my tracks. Vera and Thaddeus stopped behind me, and I reached for Flamebearer.

"I'd think twice if I were you," said a new voice that seemed familiar, though I wasn't sure which of the guards had spoken.

Vera had been in the process of pulling her own knives free, but she stopped when she noticed the crossbow aimed at her face. Thaddeus noticed the crossbow too. His hand stilled at his waist and his expression darkened.

"Don't think I don't know a
wolf
when I see one." Our escort spat at the ground near my feet and aimed the crossbow up at my face. A drop of spittle hung from his lower lip. I had the strange urge to wipe it off. "Put up a fight, and they pay for it. Understand?"

I took quick inventory of our surroundings. There were about a dozen of them. We could take them. First, I'd need to knock the crossbow from Walking Thimble's fat fingers. I flexed my fingers around Flamebearer.

"Drop your sword." It was that voice again. Why did I know it?

A crossbow clicked—the one aimed at Vera—and more guards appeared from around the corner, including a couple of half-giants. I'd spent my entire life training in the art of fighting, and one of the basic skills I'd learned was recognizing when to fight and when to yield. I ground my teeth, let go of my sword, and raised my hands. Three guards were on me at once, pinning my arms behind my back, while four more grabbed hold of Thaddeus and Vera. One of the guards, who had been keeping to the rear, stepped forward and stopped before me. I couldn't see his face through his helmet, but then he reached up and tugged it off, leaving a cap of dirty red hair plastered to his head.

Heat from the fires of Mortis burned through my body. That was why I'd recognized his voice.

Denn Faris stared right at me with a feral smile. "Well, well, well, isn't this a surprise?"

His fist slammed into my jaw. Pain exploded as the world whirled and my eyes burned. I would've fallen if it weren't for my captors holding me upright. I spat blood on the ground, flexed my jaw and glared at Denn. I was glad to see one of his eyes was still a little purple from our last encounter.

"Eye for an eye, right, Del Conte?" he growled. "Lock them up."

24

 

 

DARIA

 

 

T
he impact didn't come. I waited another breath, but when it still didn't come, I blinked my eyes open. Lord Cethin was gone. There was no snow or forest or camp. It wasn't night anymore, but it didn't look quite like day, either. A thick layer of fog smeared the world in various hues of grey, hovering above the ground like steam rising over a cauldron. The air wasn't warm, exactly, but it felt warm compared to the winter I'd been living in, and it was humid—the kind of humid that smelled wet and usually came with a good downpour. A high-pitched thrum of cicadas went unceasing, and a crow cawed in the distance. Where in the world had I landed?

Leather creaked at my feet, drawing my attention back to the ground. Myez Rader lay before me, face pale and eyes closed, but he was breathing. He had one hand pressed to the wound at his shoulder. Blood had seeped into the wool of his cloak, staining his fingers, but it didn't look like it was spreading very fast. I reached out with my senses to get a feel for his state of health, but I couldn't feel anything. It was as though my senses dissipated into the fog the moment they left my body, as if they'd been neutralized, somehow.

I lifted the long chain from my neck, disentangling us, and for a moment I just stared at his double-sided face. I had a much better view of his scar now, and I felt equal parts revulsion and horror that I had done that to him. It was an ugly scar that spread all the way from his forehead and down his neck, warping the planes of his face and giving that side the appearance of melted pink rubber. As I sat there, staring at both faces that were in such harsh contrast to one another, I couldn't help but wonder: Which one was he? The man who had helped me escape, or the monster who had trapped me in Thieves?

Whoever he was, seeing him lying there with that hideous scar poked a sharply nailed finger at my sympathy. I tried tugging his hand from his wound, but he winced, holding it resolutely in place.

"You have to let me look at it," I said. "Or you can lie here while it turns septic, assuming you don't bleed to death first. Totally up to you."

He grimaced but did as I asked. I peeled away his cloak and started pulling at the edge of his tunic, but it was stuck to the wound. I glanced up at Myez, whose eyes were still shut and unsuspecting. Without warning, I tugged fast, yanking the fabric free. He jerked, his inhale whistling through his teeth with a curse.

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