The Truth about Heroes: Complete Trilogy (Heroes Trilogy)

by Krista Gossett

  Verity laughed lightly, lusty but much better veiled than his own obvious display. She spun around to give him a better view and his deep blue eyes were darkening to something closer to navy. She never tired of having this effect on him.

  Finn was no less sexy in her eyes; he had decided upon a suit in the same blues, blacks and whites as the feathers on his body. It was tailored to a Reishe, complete with clever slits and fastenings that accentuated his form and allowed his wings full movement. His accents were silver rather than gold but either would have suited him. His trousers hugged his legs (indeed, he would need to curb his lust lest no one have any doubts how he felt about Verity) and the tails of his overcoats swept to his knees. His ocean blue undershirt was crushed velvet, laced with silver cord. Verity was starting to share his enthusiasm for the added thrill of undressing. The leather of his cuffs and collar were butter soft and warm from his skin.

  Before she lost to the depth of his eyes, she covered her arms and torso with a cream-colored wrap and led Finn out to the cab that Calyr had sent along. Several times, she had to smack his hands away and laugh at his eagerness.

  Verity had been right though and she played through the past day in her head, not wanting to forget a single detail. She had been right about there being a sort of basement below the manor but it wasn’t a construct so much as a natural system of caverns below it. Indeed, there was only one way to access it from within the manor; the only other ways in were either guarded by the natural treacherousness of their location or heavily guarded (one was located outside of the city barracks). The manor’s entrance into the caverns was located in the bedchambers of the mayor himself so there was no way that Calyr did not know about it. It did nothing to assuage her fears that the only manor entrance was in such an odd place to begin with. The original architect was Calyr’s grandfather’s father. What would he have been protecting all of these years that he would deliberately make that decision? She also happened to learn that the architect and the builders disappeared during or shortly after the building.

  Whether or not the mystery of the climate lay there, something certainly did and it made her skin crawl. She might be dripping sexuality in her dress, but she had strapped long knives along the inside of her thighs and was ready for damn near anything. Maybe that dress would make getting the keys from Calyr an easier task. She was really counting on him being suspicious enough to always carry them on him. Otherwise, it was going to make her task more problematic. She was stealthy and resourceful, for sure, but she couldn’t turn invisible like she once could, making dodging household guards even more problematic.

  She had let Finn in on her some of her discovery, but felt guilty in the knowledge that she had not told him everything. He knew that there was an underground area and he knew she planned on getting in there, but admittedly, some of her plan really depended on Finn not over thinking the details. She needed him to keep Calyr as relaxed as possible while she used as much time as possible to observe and make her moves. She was grateful that he did not press her but it did not make her feel less ashamed that she could not bare the details to him. She pushed it to the back of her mind and focused on the blueprints she had memorized.

  They had been surprisingly easy to get to. She had located the archives and the sharp old woman at the counter had been convinced that Verity was a nervous woman looking for wrinkle remedies. The restricted access room had unimpressive locks that she had no problems picking and the blueprints were familiarly stored in tall boxes, well-organized and rolled into tubes. She had Krose to thank for the lessons in lock-picking. She did not dare to disturb the dust, which proved to be the hardest part, but she couldn’t risk leaving any trace of her purpose here.

  She had made quick notes on the slips of paper she had concealed in her clothes and when she was done, she bowed nervously to the woman at the counter, mumbling about not finding what she needed and hurried out.

  When they pulled up to the manor, Jarris and a different guard were the ones to greet them at the door. She wondered if the moron had been let go. She was only a little ashamed that she couldn’t remember the moron’s name now.

  They were lead to a great dining room in the back of the manor and Calyr was no less resplendent in his tailored garb. He traded his robe for a form-fitted suit like Finn, but he was wearing far more gold and cream than before, his short hair styled messy and sexy. Despite the heated male glances, Verity felt like she was far more overwhelmed by all the savage virility. She was very careful to appear distracted as she gauged Calyr’s reaction to her, hoping he would not be outright amorous and pay too much attention to her movements that night. To her relief (and oddly even disappointment), he did not.

  However less physical Calyr’s reaction, she could tell from the dark gold of his hooded eyes that he was not immune and that was something she could work with. She was doubly glad that Finn was not possessive or insecure (at least, not since the talk they had about Krose); he was ultimately unaffected by the admiration Calyr did display.

  “You look ravishing, Verity. My brother is a lucky man,” Calyr murmured without a hint of flattery or sarcasm. “May I?”

  Calyr offered his arm to Verity but looked askance at Finn, who waved his assent. Verity took Calyr’s arm and allowed him to lead her into the dining room.

  The courses were served almost immediately once Calyr had seated Verity then sat with his brother. Verity knew they were delicious (the food, but the brothers were certainly no less delectable) but she was intent in her observations and played at being meek while she took it all in. Calyr was far more charming now but she was extra clever in convincing him that she was cowed by his charisma, that her suspicions had been eased. Once he was at ease, she began to pour his wine, keeping it flowing while Finn entertained and she demurred. She made sure to appear to be sipping it herself but she needed to be sober. Seduction was harder to pull off sloppy and so was stealth.

  Once dinner had finished, the three of them retired to a comfortable sitting room with their wineglasses in hand. Verity had a moment where seeing the brothers reclining together caused heat to pool between her legs, but she had to focus. To say that only men could be distracted by lust was a splendid lie that women are just more cunning about keeping secret. She had more important things to worry about now.

  Namely, Calyr was not carrying the keys as she had hoped he would be. She had patted him in a friendly, sometimes flirtatious, manner but due to the well-fitted tailoring it was mostly clear that he certainly wasn’t concealing anything she would be able to get to.

  After a few moments of jovial conversation, Verity was careful not to sober them by asking to use the ladies’ room. With unconcerned ease, Calyr told her where to go. She pretended to commit it closely to memory, but of course had other ideas.

  It did not escape her memory that the last time she had really needed her stealth skills was also in a Reishefolk city. She had used her acrobatic background quite a bit (and never forgot to stretch and exercise every morning; it was as ingrained in her as some people’s morning cup of coffee), but stealth really tested her body and mind. Being aware of her own movements and what was around her took every ounce of skill she could muster.

  She strolled easily down the hallway as far as the restroom, playing the layout of the place in her head as she went, keeping an easy smile on her face rather than crunching it up in concentration. When she had Mirage, there was never a need for training her face, but Finn had been a great help in letting her know when she was giving things away. Indeed, she was ever grateful of how attentive he was when they were together—and equally grateful how understanding he was of giving her space and freedom. It was a rare find, a man that had such confidence and trust in a woman. After losing her husband, she never hoped to be so lucky twice in a lifetime.

  She went in the restroom and relieved herself quickly. Verity had not had much wine, but whatever she was about to do after, there wouldn’t be another opportunity. She wished she hadn’t
gone for such a tight gown; accessibility to her weapons was not ideal but she also doubted she would have been able to ease Calyr without some very subtle yet potent feminine seduction either. She did not dare move them into view until reaching the basement though—if any of the guards were to catch her moving about, there would be no talking her way out of it. The long blades were wicked tools that would not be mistaken for anything else. Walking with grace took a bit of craft and they were not exactly comfortable.

  Verity had decided to keep to the shadows, walking as silently and naturally as possible, rather than jumping about in an obvious manner. She was an invited guest as far as the household knew so there was no need to move about as if in a hostile environment. She was uncertain where Calyr kept his keys when they weren’t on him (and it was entirely possible that this particular key was ALWAYS kept on his person just very concealed—and it was possibly hidden so well, even a lover would be hard-pressed to find it, as distasteful as that thought was…). If it came down to it, she just hoped it was possible for her to pick the lock. She gave in to the notion that this might just be a reconnaissance visit and they would need to secure yet another invitation to follow up. Whatever it would be, she had thought every angle through carefully.

  It was a risky mission since she would have to climb 9 floors just to go underground at all. 9 floors were a challenge on its own, but Verity would not just be able to take a lift or just march right up the central staircase. In the elder’s chamber there was an elevator shaft that would take her down there. She did not dare to use the elevator, not knowing how noisy it might be, so she had concealed a retractable cable line by her blades as well—plenty enough for 20 floors if she had needed to.

  Verity really only needed to get to a room in the back of the manor on the first floor. There was a great deal of ivy that had grown there since the warm climate invited new plant life. She had hoped she would be able to climb it to the eighth floor (where it ended) and then just make her way to the ninth with care.

  She didn’t run into anyone in her casual walk of the first floor and was able to slip into a sort of study in the back. She looked out the window carefully and did not see any guards in the courtyard out back. Verity was not put at ease by this. She knew Calyr was suspicious of her and wondered if he was anticipating her now. She did not have time to hesitate though; her window of time was very small before he would wonder what was taking her so long.

  She removed the blades and tools from her inner thighs and strapped them to her arms (she had spared no expense on these on her way to Daunting Peaks; flexible strapping was indispensable). She spun the thin fabric of the gown’s train up around her thighs expertly, pinning it securely into place to shorten the skirt and keep it from inhibiting her. She slipped off the slippers and tucked them into a pocket of the blade’s sheathes. She slid open the window, grabbed onto a vine after testing its strength, then swung out onto the side of the house with all the ease her training had afforded her.

  The climb up 8 floors was easy for her since the ivy was thick and new. She stopped at the nearest ledge and strafed underneath it. The ivy did not go as far as she needed to be to take a set of servant’s stairs but it did go down a couple of rooms. She peeked into each room on the way, knowing she might have to double back if her best choice was occupied. She counted herself lucky that the last room was both unoccupied and the window unlocked but she heard voices below her now and rushed to throw herself into the room and close the window before one might look up and see her. With her deep blue dress and tan skin, it might be harder to see her but not impossible.

  She rushed across the floor but opened the door with caution. Her heart was quickening and her breath was shallow but she relaxed a bit when peeking out showed an empty hallway again. Only a bit though, because she did not like how easy this ascent was, not at all. Calyr was no idiot, so this lack of protection had to be deliberate.

  Nonetheless, she took advantage of the lack and ran along to the servant stairs and sped up to the top floor, her frustration and fear building, only to see that even his room was unguarded. She had no plans to kill any guards and did not relish the prospect, but she certainly hadn’t wanted it to be this easy. She began to think that Calyr guarding the secret too carefully might arouse curiosity in his own staff even. Or maybe that whatever he guarded with nothing but a key and a door did not need much guarding at all.

  Verity slipped into the elder’s suites. It was yet another tribute to his vanity, an homage to gold and cream, all silk and luxury. She imagined that the former elder had probably not been as extravagant, from what Finn had told her anyway and this was entirely renovated for the younger man’s tastes. Nonetheless, she found the tapestry she had been looking for (and anyone with an eye for design would notice it was poorly hung at that; probably hung by Calyr himself, not wanting anyone to have an inkling of what was beneath it). She pushed it aside and found the old recess in the wall and the little patch concealing the keyhole.

  She was damn near sullen at this point by the ease of it all— indeed, the keyhole was the simple work that any skeleton key could handle. She always carried a skeleton key but it usually never got used, with most locks having been upgraded well beyond them. Verity dug it out now and was able to open up the door and slip into the elevator with complete ease.

  The elevator itself was quite archaic but would have been advanced for its time. The elevator itself had no top, suspended in the shaft much like a bucket that you lower into a well. The shaft’s chamber was lit only by the dome above, which was made with the kind of glass that allows you to see out but anyone outside of the building would not be able to see in. When she had seen it from the courtyard it had looked like obsidian, black glass, but she could see the trick from inside of it now.

  She looked around on the floor and found the panel she was looking for and opened it to reveal the pitch-black shaft she would be descending down now. Verity had never been afraid of the dark; indeed, there were nights when she had crossed the desert during the Phantom Moon where the inky black of a lightless night seemed painted onto her very eyes. She anchored the line she had brought into the trapdoor, lowered herself in and shut the door behind her.

  Without her sight, she hung there for a moment and listened. She shut her eyes so that her eyes would not dart about from sensory loss and concentrated on hearing. She began to lower herself and listen. After a couple of minutes of careful descent, she could hear where the shaft ended below her and felt her bare feet meet grit and stone.

  She disconnected herself from the line and felt along the wall to where the doors would open. She removed a small pry bar from one of her arm sheathes and was able to pry it open with very little effort, although she could not close them again. She figured at this point, covering her tracks was a bit futile anyway.

  The caverns were dimly lit by glow-torches; it was primitive but effective, the use of fire-algae to light the way. She was more nervous here, since the blueprints did not detail the caverns. Indeed, she wasn’t able to find any printed knowledge at all of what was in this place. She took a few steps and gasped in disgust at the slimy, spongy feel of the floor beneath her. She stepped back to the gritty dry floor and brushed off her feet as best as she could (hygiene aids weren’t exactly on her supply list) before putting the slippers back on. The rubbery bottoms had more traction than her own feet anyway and again, all pretenses of behaving herself were out the window now so keeping them clean was not necessary. At this point, she figured she had been gone a good 15 minutes at least.

  She did not hurry now, knowing that a misstep could be fatal and this trip was certainly not worth her life. The glow-torches faintly pulsed light as she slowly made her way through the caverns. She had prepared herself for a real labyrinth, but with all the ease of her trip so far, there seemed to be one long giant serpentine tunnel winding through this place, the air becoming warmer as she walked. The sheer size of the place made her sluggish progress seem nonexistent but she cra
wled ahead fueled on curiosity and determination. On one of her many turns through the eerily beautiful yet wholly ominous cave, she was suddenly met by… a great bronze door.

  She stood there, quite unprepared for the oddity of a door in a cavern and it only added to her nerves noticing that, as secret as this place seemed to be, she could now clearly see tracks on the path, suggesting that a great deal of foot traffic came through here. She reached out to try the handle (you learn early what a source of internal embarrassment it is to set about picking a lock when the way is already open). Before touching it, she stopped, noticing that there was great heat coming off of the door. Perhaps whatever was down here was the source of the heat after all. Her dress was not just damp but soaked with sweat at this point.

  A hand touched her shoulder and she gasped and spun around, her blades swiftly swung from their sheathes as she rotated on the intruder. Luckily, Finn at least had the presence of mind to jump out of reach. Verity curbed the immediate urge to scream at him and lowered her blades but did not put them away. His dinner jacket was off and his laced undershirt was partially undone, every bit as drenched in sweat as she was at this point. He shrugged apologetically, his lips set in a grim frown as his eyes darted around.

  “It was entirely too easy getting down here. Did you clear the way?” Finn softly asked now, afraid of how his voice might carry down here.

  Verity shook her head, mirroring his dour expression.

  “I have a bad feeling about this. This entire manor is near deserted. I knew the staff was scarce, but other than the door guards, I only briefly heard two others…” Verity thought on this. “But I guess those could have been the door guards for all I know. I wasn’t hanging around to find out.”