Heir of Pendel (A Pandoran Novel, #4) (41 page)

And Alex…

I squeezed the brooch. Where was he? Ever since we'd landed in this valley, it was as if the cord linking me to him had been severed. I reached out to him, but it was like trying to move a phantom limb. He just wasn't there. I couldn't sense him
anywhere
, and his absence made me feel even more alone. I hoped the fact that I couldn't sense him was a result of this place and not because something bad had happened to him. If anything happened to him…

My next breath trembled. If only I'd accepted the offer when Danton had first made it a month ago. Orindor would have been there to help Valdon and then maybe Eris wouldn't have invaded so easily. If only I'd gotten over myself sooner, maybe Stefan would still be alive. And if only I hadn't entered the games and instead followed the rules my father had set, maybe my father would be alive, too. If, if, if,
if
….

Ifs were going to beat me up until I died.

Considering the way things are going, that might not be a very long time.

Thanks for that, Conscience. I can always count on you to pin me down when I fall.

But what now? Myez seemed to think my brooch would lead us to dragons, but there were no dragons here. I'd escaped Lord Cethin only to be trapped in this vale, There'd be no braving the mountain passes with Myez in the condition he was in. I couldn't use magic to speed up his healing process, either. I also couldn't just leave him here—at least not until he was stable. He'd probably saved my life back there.

Frustrated, I sighed and let go of the brooch, then sat up straight and gazed out at the small lake. Rain continued pitting the surface, but it'd faded to a light sprinkle. I needed to move so I could think, and with one last glance at the sleeping Myez, I crept out of our cave. It was cooler now that it had rained, and the air felt brisk and refreshing. I walked down to the lake, my boots crunching along the rocks with each step. I crouched beside the water's edge and took a few moments to splash water over my face, and then I pushed up my sleeves and scrubbed at my arms, letting the cold water wash away the dirt and grime. The open cuts on my hands and wrists stung. I probably needed to dunk my whole body in the lake, but I'd do that once I'd given Myez clear instructions not to step out of that cave while I did so.

I touched the back of my skull where I'd been hit. There was a nice little knot there that was tender to the touch. I really should start wearing a helmet. I wiped my hands on my pants and continued walking along the perimeter to get a better idea of our surroundings. The lake was almost completely surrounded by a wide black beach and rock wall, save the narrow trench we'd used to get here. A wider spot of beach about the length of a football field stood off to one side, carved into the rock, but it, too, was surrounded by rock wall. There were strange markings all over the face of the rock there, most of them within reach, as if the wall had been tagged by trespassers. Had other Draconi trespassed here?

A few scorch marks stained the walls—large enough to be vestiges of dragon fire. If this vale had belonged to the dragons and their Draconi, where were they now? Why had the brooch led me here? I kicked at the pebbles in my path. I was supposed to be finding Alex, not wasting time chasing mysterious voices and Gaian ancient history.

After a bit more wandering and exploration, in which I uncovered some edible berries and even more scorch marks and carvings, I made my way back to the dead tree sticking out from the rock wall. Myez stood at the entrance, leaning against the wall.

"Where were you?" he asked. It sounded like a scolding.

I raised both eyebrows. "I went for a walk…?"

By the look on his face it had definitely been a scolding.

"Here." I showcased my pickings upon a small rock inside our cave. "It's not much, but it's all I could find."

He frowned. "You really shouldn't be out there alone."

"Well, our other alternative is we starve to death. So…"

He examined the berries I'd found. "How'd you know these were safe to eat?"

I shrugged. "I just ate a few and waited to see what would happen."

His eyes—er, eye—went wide.

"I'm joking," I said. "We had huckleberries near the castle in Valdon. Stefan and I…we used to snack on them the mornings we'd practice together."

Myez chastised with that one eye. "They're called purberries."

I knew that. Stefan had tried correcting me too, but I'd already grown so used to calling them huckleberries, because that's exactly what they looked like. "How are you feeling, by the way?"

He made himself comfortable beside the
huckle
berries. "Tired. All right, but tired." He popped a few berries in his mouth, and his lids fluttered a little as if the berries were the best things he'd ever tasted. "Thanks for gathering these. Any signs of the dragons?"

"Except for a few walls of scorched rock, no." I tossed a rock out of the cave. "I found some markings though. Think they could be from the old Draconi?"

"That would make the most sense to me," he said, popping another berry in his mouth. "What is your plan, then? Did you want to wait it out?"

"I don't see that we have a choice." I gestured to his wound. "At least for a few days. You need to rest. If the mountain passes are as bad as you say, there's no way you can attempt them now."

He looked over at me and slowly swallowed his berry. "And…if I'm not well enough in a few days?"

I chewed on the inside of my lip and peered out of the cave. I didn't want to care about leaving him, but I
did
care. The idea of leaving him—alone—in this strange place made me feel guilty. He'd saved my life. I couldn't just…abandon him. But I also couldn't sit here for weeks on end. My uncle had taken over
yesterday
. I didn't have weeks. I barely even had days. If I waited too long, there might not be a world to return to.

"You can go on, you know," he said.

I looked back at him.

"I know you're anxious to return to your friends, and I don't want to hold you back from that."

"But what about you?" I asked. "I can't just…leave you here."

He popped another berry in his mouth. "Yes, you can, Daria. Of course, I'll try my best to rest and be well enough to go with you, but if I'm not, you must go on without me. I know we're running out of time." I opened my mouth to argue, but Myez said, "Don't worry about me. I've survived this long on my own. I'll be all right. I grew up in the north, remember?" He gave me a small smile.

I gave him a small smile back. "Yes, well, this isn't the north."

He dusted his hands and leaned back against the cavern wall. "You're leaving in two days, with or without me. Anyway, I haunted Thieves long enough. I suppose it's time I found a new haunting ground, and I believe the Shadowvale will do quite nicely."

As it turned out, Myez wasn't well enough. He was
better
, much to my relief, but not "trudge through the mountain passes" better. Still, he'd insisted I go on without him. His insistence helped me not feel so guilty about leaving him—wounded—in this strange place, even though I knew I had to regardless.

During those few days, I'd managed to craft a few makeshift daggers—with Myez's help—out of stone and wood, and I'd gathered as many berries as I could carry. Myez all but demanded I take his cloak, and I eventually agreed. We sawed off some of the extra fabric and made small packs out of the extra pieces, which would carry more berries and some pumice stones I'd use as trail markers. I left his amulet with him, though. I had a brooch that might be able to flare up again and guide me. He needed something to get out of here, just in case, assuming he could find a spot that would permit him to fill it with magic. Besides, I wasn't sure how in the world a person stored magic in that thing anyway.

"Which direction did you plan to go?" Myez asked as I packed.

"You said this valley lies between Campagna and the Arborenne, right?"

"Yes, though we are closest to Campagna's capital."

"Good, because I'd like to head for Campagna. Sir Torren and his troops were planning to sail there first before heading south to Valdon. They may even be there now. Maybe I'll be able to meet up with them, or at least come in behind them."

He mulled this over and said, "Just…be careful, Daria. This place…it's earned a reputation for a reason. People don't generally leave the Shadowvale—at very least not unchanged. Always be vigilant. And mistrust everything."

I looked up at him. His forehead was wrinkled, his gaze intense and full of concern. "I will, Myez. I promise."

I left early the next morning. We said our goodbyes, and I threw up a silent prayer to Gaia to keep him safe. I had the strange feeling he was doing the same for me.

I walked east, toward Campagna. At least I assumed it was east, judging by the motion of the sun. The brooch wasn't any help. It was resolute in its coldness. Actually, it seemed as if it was growing colder the farther I walked. The fog was thick today, but not so thick I couldn't see my surroundings. Still, there wasn't a whole lot to see, anyway, other than tall grass and shrubbery.

Dew clung to my pants and boots as I trudged on, my footsteps silent as they padded on damp earth. I hadn't heard any crows this morning, though the cicadas were in full force. It was almost peaceful, if I forgot the circumstances.

I'd been walking for about an hour when I stopped to adjust my boot. One of the laces had gotten loose. I crouched, tied it down, and then I popped a few berries in my mouth.

The cicadas had stopped.

I stopped chewing. My gaze slid through the fog, and I stood, remembering Myez's warnings. The fog had grown thicker, darker. So dark, I could no longer see the bushes up ahead. I bit my bottom lip and glanced behind me. It'd be too easy to get lost here, in this fog, where everything looked the same. I grabbed a few pumice stones from my bag and stacked them on top of a rock a few paces away. And then I took a deep breath and kept walking.

The fog thickened. It swelled and swirled like some living creature, and before I knew it, it'd grown so thick I couldn't see more than ten feet in front of me. I stopped walking, put my hands on my hips and glanced around, careful not to actually turn around.

Everywhere, in all directions, a blanket of thick, grey haze spread out. I couldn’t even see the sky anymore. I checked the brooch in my pocket. No, still cold.

I took another deep breath. I had to keep going.

Air whipped over my head and I jumped, startled. It was a crow—the first crow I'd seen since I'd left Myez. Stupid, stupid crow. My heart pounded, I steadied my breath, and I kept walking, leaving mini-cairns in my wake. It wasn't like I'd be able to see them from far away, but leaving the physical trail made me feel better.

A sound
tick-tick-ticked
off to my right—some creature I'd never heard before. I walked faster. The ticking sounded again, this time from my other side. I stole a glance at the undulating shadows but saw nothing substantial. The fog moved and coiled, rising and falling like a sea, and I had the sensation I was drowning in it.

Something grazed my hair and I screamed. My heart pounded and my chest heaved. I glanced back but saw nothing there. Just fog and shadows. Air whipped in front of me, and I jumped again, spinning to face…nothing. A scream—some cross between a human and a cat—echoed from the fog, somewhere up ahead.

I pressed my fingers to my temples, trying to calm myself. People lost themselves in this vale—I knew that. Myez had warned me sufficiently before I'd left. He'd warned me it would mess with my mind, too, and he had not been overexaggerating.

Steeling myself, I gripped my cloak closer and kept walking. The fog was quiet, and still too thick to see anything, and then I noticed a little cairn on the rock at my feet.
My
cairn.

I cursed and stopped beside it. I'd gotten turned around. How had I gotten turned around? I hadn't even turned around! A branch snapped to my left.

I jumped and whipped around, my heart thundering in my chest. Nothing was there. My breath sounded too loud in the stillness, in the quiet. I flexed my fingers around my makeshift daggers, my fear making my arm tremble. Something was out here with me. Something I couldn't see, but could sense—not with my Pandoran senses. No, those were still neutralized here. It was that other sense—the sixth sense all people possess: The sense that tells you you're being watched.

I swallowed, my gaze darting through the mist. Shadows swirled and twisted like ethereal beings. It seemed as if the fog were closing in around me, from all sides, curling around my boots, my hands, as if it were slowly absorbing me inside of it.

And then I heard a cackle, inhuman and terrifying, right behind me.

A squeak escaped my lips as I spun around again, my chest heaving with quick breath. A shape moved in the fog, dark and unsubstantial, but it wasn't vanishing like the other shadows had. It floated closer and closer, growing more substantial with every second. A voice in my head screamed to run. I couldn't move. My feet were frozen in terror and my entire body shook. Another shadow appeared beside the first. And another. Goose bumps ran up and down my arms, and my hair stood on end. A thread of black stretched from the foremost shadow, like a tendril, coming toward me. Closer and closer, snaking its way effortlessly through the fog. And I sprinted.

I ran in the other direction, as fast as I could, racing to get away from whatever it was. I glanced back; the three shadows were still behind me. That cackle sounded again, closer this time.

I ran and ran and ran, swinging my arms to gain speed. Trying to get away. I had no idea where I was running, but I had to get away. Far away. I did not know what was back there, but a voice deep down inside warned it was a foe far beyond my ability. I glanced back again and cursed.

The shadows were still following me, and they were closing in.

My boot caught on something. Sharp pain knifed through my ankle, and I pitched forward. I tossed my daggers aside so as not to skewer myself on impact. My palms hit the ground hard, but I didn't stop falling. I rolled and tumbled, hair pulled, cloak snagging. Over and over again, sliding and tumbling down a steep embankment. The embankment ended, I lost momentum and finally rolled to a halt.