Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  His eyes had adjusted to the light enough to make out the blurry forms of four guards in their bright gold breastplates. Two clung to his arms while a third leaned against the door frame with a hand pressed to the side of his head. Rothin’s broad shoulders and strong-featured face loomed in his vision, and Evren didn’t need his eyes to feel the cold steel resting against his throat.

  “What do you want?” Evren snarled.

  “Lady Briana commands your presence,” Rothin said. “Both of you.” His voice held no anger or malice, only a tone of stern authority. He’d been present when Evren warned of the Gatherers’ attack.

  Let’s just hope that means he doesn’t think I’m a traitor or spy.

  To be fair, he’d likely have come to that same conclusion himself, given how they’d been discovered in Arch-Guardian Suroth’s private office, with one of his most valuable possessions clutched in Hailen’s hand. I’d probably have arrested me, too.

  He relaxed and dropped his hands. “Then let’s go.” No sense fighting, not where Hailen could get hurt. The boy had very nearly been killed the night before by Snarth, one of the Mumblers working for Killian the blacksmith.

  The guards half-led, half-hauled him and Hailen out of the storeroom, down the servant’s corridor, and into the main room of the mansion. The eyes of Suroth’s servants followed their journey up the stairs, and Evren could hear their whispered gossip. Doubtless they were trying to figure out what Evren and Hailen had done to earn the ire of Nessa, Briana, or Suroth himself.

  Evren’s curiosity blazed bright as the guards marched him not into Lady Briana’s private chambers, but into the very same study where he and Hailen had been discovered the previous night, just after the assassination attempt.

  Lady Briana sat behind her father’s vast wooden desk, in the straight-backed leather armchair. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her kohl smeared and faded from crying—Evren had heard of her father’s murder in the palace—but her expression was an unreadable mask of calm composure.

  Her two bodyguards—the pale-skinned Praamian and the fierce woman with skin darker than Evren’s own—hovered behind her like mother hawks guarding a hatchling. Given what had happened, Evren didn’t begrudge them their caution.

  “Thank you, Rothin.” Briana inclined her head to the captain of the guard. “You may leave them with us.”

  “Of course, Lady Briana.” Hesitance echoed in his voice, yet he simply bowed and turned to leave. The guards released Evren and Hailen, then followed their captain.

  Silence hung thick in the study for long seconds after the door clicked shut behind the departing guards. Three pairs of eyes bored into him, but Evren stood tall, defiant. He hadn’t let fear of anything—not the Lecterns in the Master’s Temple where he’d served as apprentice, not the monsters roaming the Empty Mountains, not even the Hunter of Voramis, the legendary assassin that had become his trainer and mentor—shake him for years. He’d be damned if he showed a Dhukari girl or her bodyguards even a hint of worry.

  “What is your name?”

  Lady Briana’s question caught him off-guard. He’d been expecting threats and accusations, yet she spoke in a tone bordering on civil.

  “She asked for your name,” growled the pale-skinned bodyguard, a scowl on his face as he took a step toward Evren.

  Evren sized up the man before him. Long, dark hair pulled back into a tight tail, high cheekbones, and honey-colored eyes. Yet he was surprised to find they were roughly the same age, though the bodyguard stood a hand or two taller, with broad shoulders and the easy confidence of a warrior trained to use the sword hanging on his belt and the five or six daggers Evren spotted concealed around his armor and clothing. He’d spent enough time around the Hunter to recognize the lethal grace of a killer, yet something about the Praamian reminded Evren of the slimmer, quicker thieves he’d known on the streets of Vothmot.

  An interesting mix of the two, certainly.

  The other one, the woman with braided hair and a fierce scowl on her full lips, was a bit more of a mystery. The breadth of her shoulders almost matched Kodyn’s and thick muscle corded her forearms and biceps. She stood in a slight crouch, expression wary, hand hovering near the short-handled spear on her back. A warrior, for certain, yet up close, something about her seemed different than he’d expected. There was a strange glimmer in her eyes that he didn’t quite understand.

  He didn’t know what to make of these two, but if they were threatening Hailen, they’d find him more than just a simple servant.

  “Why?” He poured all his defiance into the word. “What does it matter?”

  “It matters,” Lady Briana spoke before the tall Praamian could, “because I have to know what sort of person I’m dealing with.”

  Evren’s eyes narrowed. Dealing with? That sounds less like a threat and more like a conversation.

  Understanding dawned when Lady Briana placed a palm-length stone as thick as Evren’s middle finger atop the table. “What he did should be impossible,” she said. “Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I would never have believed it. So I want to know exactly how it happened.”

  Evren’s gut tightened. He’d been dreading this since the moment they’d been caught in Suroth’s study hours earlier.

  “This stone is the handiwork of the Serenii.” Lady Briana’s eyes slid past Evren to Hailen. “My father is…”

  Sorrow twisted her face and she swallowed hard, her eyes dropping. The fierce-looking woman placed a hand on her shoulder.

  A long moment passed before the girl continued in a quiet, tight voice. “My father was studying it and all the other Serenii artifacts in this room in the hopes of unlocking its secrets. He had begun to decipher the runes etched into its surface. However, he never hinted that it would do anything like it did last night.” She narrowed her eyes at Hailen and leaned forward. “So tell me, how did you make it hum and glow like that?”

  Evren heard Hailen draw in a breath but spoke quickly first. “Before I tell you, I will have your word that my brother will not be punished. It was my idea to sneak into your father’s study. The blame lies with me, and the punishment should as well.”

  “Evren—” Hailen began.

  Evren whirled and shot a stern glare at the younger boy. Hailen’s face grew stubborn but he held his tongue.

  “Your brother?” The tall Praamian youth cocked an eyebrow. “Intriguing.”

  Evren met the bodyguard’s gaze without hesitation. Curiosity burned there, and a wary suspicion, but that seemed more innate, the result of hard years of living, rather than personal. It simply served to reinforce Evren’s suspicion that the youth was not the traditional sort of bodyguard. Then again, a Praamian in such a trusted position in a Dhukari household didn’t scream tradition, either.

  “My brother,” Evren emphasized the word, “is special.” He didn’t know how to explain that Hailen was Melechha, a descendant of the ancient Serenii, not without sounding crazy. “Serenii things have a tendency to come to life when he’s around.”

  “Is that so?” Lady Briana inclined her head and turned to Hailen. “What is your name?”

  “Hailen,” Hailen responded before Evren could stop him.

  The young woman beckoned. “Come here, Hailen.”

  Evren made to stop Hailen, but both of the bodyguards tensed, hands dropping to their weapons. Clearly, last night’s attempt on Lady Briana had them on edge. Evren decided against doing anything to raise their suspicion any further.

  “Here.” Lady Briana held out the cylindrical stone. “Take it.”

  Hailen hesitated a moment before reaching for the object. Evren’s gut tightened as the boy’s fingers closed around the cylindrical black stone etched with those strange Serenii runes. The blood on Hailen’s fingers had dried hours ago—the stone required fresh blood to activate.

  Lady Briana and her bodyguards drew in sharp breaths and leaned back as Hailen took the stone. But, when nothing happened, suspicion flashed across their faces. The young
Dhukari woman looked confused.

  “Last night, how did you make that work?” she asked Hailen.

  Evren shot Hailen a meaningful look and a slight shake of his head. Don’t do it, Hailen! He couldn’t straight out shout at the boy to hold his tongue, but he had to hope Hailen had the common sense to—

  “It’s my blood.” Hailen said after only a moment of hesitation. “It’s what activated the stone.”

  Evren stifled a curse. Damn it! The boy had an innately trusting nature—a remnant of the Irrsinnon, the madness inherited from the Serenii that had nearly claimed his mind years earlier—which had gotten him in trouble on more than one occasion. Now, he’d just revealed the secret of his Melechha blood to these three perfect strangers.

  “Your blood?” Lady Briana’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

  “What he means,” Evren interjected, “is that his blood can interact with Serenii artifacts.” Hailen had revealed enough for now; better Briana not know that he was the last surviving Melechha on Einan. That knowledge would give her far too much power over Hailen—and, by extension, Evren. Already, they were at the mercy of the Dhukari noblewoman. She had only to order her guards to execute them and Evren would be forced to fight his way to freedom.

  “Interact with the artifacts, how exactly?” For a moment, curiosity pushed back the dark sorrow lingering in Lady Briana’s eyes. “Like what happened last night, with that bright light and loud noise?”

  “Yes.” Evren met the young woman’s gaze. “Or, at least, that’s what that one artifact did. I don’t know about the others, but I know that they will work when they come in contact with Hailen’s blood.”

  “Fascinating!” Excitement sparkled on Lady Briana’s face. “My father dedicated his life to studying these artifacts, and you two unlock more secrets in three minutes than he did in three decades.” Suddenly, questions bubbled from her lips in a torrent almost too fast for Evren to follow. “Is there anything else your blood can do? Can you use all Serenii artifacts or just this one? Do you read the Serenii language? How much do you know about what these things can do? Can you truly wield the power of the Serenii like you said?”

  “Uhh…yes?” Confusion echoed in Hailen’s voice. “I mean…”

  Lady Briana suddenly stood, a look of grim determination in her eyes. “Listen to me, both of you. Last night’s attempt to kidnap or kill me was the work of the Gatherers, a cult of death-worshippers that either work for the Necroseti or rebelled against them. Either way, the Keeper’s Priests and the members of the Keeper’s Council wanted to eliminate my father. They have their wish, so I shouldn’t have to worry about them coming for me.”

  “You’re certain?” the tall Praamian asked. “Your father had a great deal of influence among the Secret Keepers—”

  The Dhukari girl shook her head. “But the only reason he posed a threat to them was because of his influence with the Pharus and his position on the Keeper’s Council. With him gone, the Necroseti won’t bother with me. Or, at least, they have no reason to. Same for the Gatherers. They wanted me to use as leverage against my father. Now that they don’t need leverage, I should be safe. Safe enough that no one will see it coming when I take down the Gatherers and the Keeper’s Council.”

  Evren raised an eyebrow. An ambitious plan, though one likely to get her killed. He wasn’t certain the two bodyguards could keep her safe from the secret cult or the most powerful priests in Shalandra.

  “But I can’t do it alone, even with all of my father’s connections,” Lady Briana continued. “They are too powerful for just the three of us to take on. Which is where you two come in.”

  “Or him,” Evren said, inclining his head at Hailen. “You want to use the power of the Serenii in your private war for revenge.”

  “Yes.” A simple reply, with no hint of deceit. Lady Briana met his eyes. “In return for his help, I will give you anything that is within my power as the daughter of Arch-Guardian Suroth.”

  Evren’s eyebrows rose. “Anything?” Quite the tempting offer, certainly, though he couldn’t be sure what she would have to give him. He’d come to her father’s household intending to use his position to get into the Palace of Golden Eternity to steal the Blade of Hallar, an ancient relic he believed was one of the Bucelarii Im’tasi weapons—weapons the Hunter needed in his mission to sustain Kharna and protect Einan from the threat of the Devourer of Worlds.

  She might not be her father, but she may still be able to help me get what I need. She could get him into the palace, maybe even close enough to the Vault of Ancients that he could get his hands on the Blade of Hallar. From there, it would be a simple matter of collecting Hailen and fleeing Shalandra before anyone realized what he’d done.

  Lady Briana shrugged. “Ask, and I will see what I can do.”

  Evren pondered his request, but before he settled on anything, a knock sounded at the door.

  The two bodyguards tensed, eyes fixed on the door.

  “Come in,” Lady Briana called.

  At the creak of door hinges, Evren glanced over his shoulder to find the grey-haired Nessa entering the room. Though the Steward shot a curious look his way, she addressed Briana.

  “Forgive me, my lady, but there is someone here to see you.”

  “Who is it?” Lady Briana asked.

  Nessa’s face went a shade paler and her eyes went wide. “By the looks of her, one of the Keeper’s Blades, sent by the Pharus himself!”

  Chapter Three

  What is the Pharus’ link to my family?

  The question repeated in Issa’s mind, as it had a thousand times since leaving the Palace of Golden Eternity earlier that morning. She barely saw the opulence of Arch-Guardian Suroth’s mansion, so fully the enigma consumed her.

  “Strike first, strike true.” The words had been the last her grandfather had said before the Indomitables led her away for her induction to the Keeper’s Blades. Yet Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres had said them as well—words from a Blade he once knew.

  Issa had never known her parents; she’d lived her entire life with her grandparents, who refused to speak of her father or mother. She knew nothing beyond the fact that they died in service to Shalandra. No names, no hint of who they had been or what they’d done, not even a headstone in the poorest section of the Keeper’s Crypt. Simply…nothing.

  Yet now, to find this tenuous connection to someone who might have known them—and the Pharus himself, no less!—only inflamed Issa’s burning curiosity. She had to know more.

  Had her parents, members of the Earaqi laborer caste, been servants in the palace? Had they served in the Indomitables or been chosen to become Keeper’s Blades? The way her grandfather had reacted to the news that she had been chosen by the Long Keeper as a Blade made that seem far more likely. Yet if they had been Blades, she and her grandparents would have been Dhukari, not trapped on the Cultivator’s Tier and the life of endless labor and drudgery.

  She couldn’t just march into the palace to see the Pharus. She’d have to wait until she was summoned again before posing her question. But she did have a couple of friends among the Blades that she could ask. Hykos, the Archateros that had been assigned to train her. Etai, the fellow trainee that had helped her triumph in the Crucible and again in Tannard’s cruel tests. Even if they didn’t know, they could help her find out.

  Thoughts of Tannard tightened her stomach and brought a fire of anger surging in her chest. Tannard, the stone-faced, ruthless Invictus that seemed determined to make her fail. From the first day that he’d supplanted Hykos as her trainer, the man had pushed her to the breaking point. She might have broken if not for the reassurance of her grandmother, her own innate stubbornness, and Hykos’ gestures of kindness.

  Even after the Pharus had personally thanked Issa for saving his life the previous night—she’d been the one to raise the alarm, and she had personally slain eleven assassins—Tannard had shattered her momentary elation.

  “This reward does not give
you a way to escape me,” he’d snarled at her. “We’re not done, not by a long shot, little Earaqi. We’re just getting started!”

  Perhaps her assignment to Lady Briana could be a good thing. At the very least, babysitting the Dhukari girl will keep me out of Tannard’s clutches.

  The sound of the front door opening intruded on Issa’s thoughts, and she turned to find the grey-haired Steward standing there.

  “Lady Briana will see you, Honored One.” The respect in the Steward’s voice was tempered by a healthy dose of suspicion. All in Shalandra respected the Keeper’s Blades, but visits of this nature were exceedingly rare—and rarely welcomed.

  “Thank you.” Issa inclined her head. It felt so strange to hear such deference from the Steward. Her Steward’s white silk and peacock feather headband proclaimed her a member of the Zadii intellectual caste, her station well above the Earaqi laborer’s caste to which Issa belonged. For her entire life, she had been demeaned and scorned by scholars, soldiers, and pompous pricks like Kellas.

  All that had changed when the Long Keeper chose her in the Crucible. She had claimed one of the coveted flame-bladed swords—the same one resting in its sheath on her back—and proven herself worthy of service. After the Anointing of the Blades, the ceremony that formalized her acceptance into the brotherhood of elite warriors, she would become a member of the Dhukari, the highest-ranked caste in Shalandra.

  It will definitely take some getting used to, Issa thought as she strode along in the Steward’s wake. Either way, I’m not going to let it go to my head. I’m not going to turn out like Kellas.

  Her face twisted into a scowl at the thought of the young Dhukari that had been chosen to join the Blades alongside her. Not for the first time, she found herself questioning why she’d saved his life in the palace the previous night. He’d been nothing but belittling and disdainful to her.