Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  “With the Pharus to help us, we’d have a real shot of taking them down.” Kodyn’s eyes sparkled, and Aisha recognized the look of a plan forming in his mind. “You’re right; this could be our perfect opportunity.”

  “Then let’s go.” Briana hurried around the desk and moved toward the door. “We shouldn’t keep the Pharus waiting.”

  The Keeper’s Blade, Issa, turned as the door pulled open and stepped aside for Briana to sweep past.

  The servants, Evren and Hailen, made to move, but Aisha interposed herself. “Stay.” Her voice was firm, unyielding. “We will speak more upon our return.”

  Evren appeared as if he wanted to retort, but seemed to think better of it. With a nod, he stepped back.

  As Aisha hurried after Kodyn and Briana, she found herself coming face to face with the Keeper’s Blade, Issa. She had a warrior’s features: dark eyes that never stopped moving, a solid nose, and a strong jawline. Her black plate mail fit her to perfection, and she wore the heavy armor without apparent strain, her movements controlled. With the snarling lion-fanged helmet framing her face and a stern expression, she looked every inch the seasoned soldier despite her age—around the same as Aisha herself.

  But it was the huge sword in Issa’s hands that drew her attention. A shudder ran down Aisha’s spine as she saw the ghostly figures clinging to the flame-shaped blade. Sparks of blue-white light sizzled along the length of the midnight black steel, swirling, shifting from ethereal figures one moment to cracking bursts of energy the next. Their empty eyes fixed on her, mouths open in a wordless plea.

  Aisha alone could see the figures, the Kish’aa, the spirits of the dead. These lives had been snuffed out before their time, and the spark of life that had once burned within them now clung to Issa’s blade. A tremor ran through Aisha’s fingers from the power of those spirits. They surged toward her, reaching out translucent arms, and energy crackled between her fingers. She wanted to pull her hand away, yet knew that she could not.

  It is my duty to hear the cries of the dead and to answer their call.

  Aisha was Umoyahlebe, a Spirit Whisperer, gifted with the ability to see, hear, and even speak to the Kish’aa. She could absorb the energy of the spirits into herself—as she had with Briana’s mother, Radiana. Though she didn’t fully understand it, she’d somehow managed to channel Radiana’s energy into a tangible power, a spark of blue-white light with the force of a lightning bolt. It had saved her and Briana’s lives the previous night.

  Yet it had been more than just power. The Kish’aa had once been living beings, each with their own desires, hopes, and dreams left unrealized. Radiana had clung to Briana’s secret garden dome out of a need to protect her daughter, and only passed to the endless bliss of Pharadesi once her mission had been fulfilled through Aisha.

  That was the gift and burden of the Spirit Whisperers. They did not just hear or see; with the power of the Kish’aa came the responsibility to help the spirits pass into the beyond. The only way to do that was to hear their pleas and help them find peace.

  Gut churning, Aisha turned away from the Keeper’s Blade, away from the spirits that hovered around the young woman, and hurried after Briana and Kodyn. Without the Whispering Lily, she could only see the Kish’aa, but their cries in her mind sounded quieter than the faintest summer breeze. Right now, she couldn’t afford to be trapped in the realm of the spirits—the land of the living held too many dangers.

  Yet the time would come, soon, that she would once again take that bright blue flower with its terrible and potent effects. Her hand went to her pouch, wherein lay a handful of the petals she’d gathered a few nights earlier as she stood in Suroth’s rooftop garden. She knew the compulsion of addictive drugs all too well—the Bloody Hand had used Bonedust to enslave her and force her into sexual servitude.

  Yet this was different than any addiction. This was her calling.

  She had to use the Whispering Lily, for it was the only way she could truly speak to the Kish’aa as her father had. If she did not, she would reject her heritage, passed down to her by her father and all the Umoyahlebe of Ghandia. And yet, if she did, she would descend into the same madness that had claimed her father. With every use of the flower, the spirits would have a stronger claim on her, until her hold on the physical weakened.

  But she would do it. She had come to the City of the Dead, the city built onto a golden mountaintop, to find her destiny. Destiny always exacted a heavy toll, but she would pay it.

  Chapter Five

  Evren kept his face a mask of calm until the door closed behind Lady Briana’s entourage. The moment the sound of their footsteps faded, he whirled to Hailen.

  “Shite, this is bad!” His mind raced. Why had he been so foolish to open his mouth and offer comment on the Keeper’s Blade? The best course of action would have been to keep his lips firmly shut, but a part of him had actually wanted to help. If Lady Briana actually could keep her end of the bargain and help him, it might have been worth it.

  Right up until the moment he remembered that Hailen had told them about his blood and its ability to affect the artifacts. No way I’m letting that fall into the wrong hands! He didn’t know Lady Briana or her bodyguards well enough to be anywhere near certain what they’d do with that knowledge. That left him only one course of action.

  He padded over to the door and cracked it open, peering into the hallway. Yes! Hope surged within him. In her haste to depart, Lady Briana had forgotten to post a guard to watch him and Hailen. Either that or she somehow believed her imperious command to “Stay!” would suffice to hold him here. Not with Hailen’s life on the line.

  Evren spun to the boy. “Hailen, we need to get you out of here now. Maybe the Beggar Priests in the House of Need will—”

  “What are you talking about, Evren?” Confusion twisted Hailen’s face into a frown. “You just promised that you’d help Lady Briana.”

  “Yeah, of course I did! It was the only thing I could say at the time.” Evren hurried toward Hailen. “You went and told them what you could do, so I didn’t really have any other choice. But now that they’re on the way to the palace, we’ve got a chance to get you out of here.”

  “Why?” Hailen’s jaw took on a stubborn set.

  “Because they’ll be at the palace for a good few hours, and—”

  “No.” Hailen shook his head. “Why do we need to leave?”

  “Because they’re going to find out who we are and what we’re doing!” Evren threw up his hands in exasperation. “The moment they find out we’re working with Killian or that we’ve come to steal the Blade of Hallar, they’re going to throw us back into that storeroom and only let us out when it’s time to haul us down to Murder Square. The best we can hope for is a nice headspike next to Kuhar and Samall!”

  The two servants had betrayed Lady Briana to the Gatherers and opened the tradesman’s gate to allow the cultists into the mansion. For that, Nessa had sworn they would suffer, their heads displayed for all in Shalandra to see.

  “Maybe not.” Hailen’s answer was quiet, his tone pensive.

  Now it was Evren’s turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “I heard them talking yesterday.” Hailen shot a furtive glance around the empty office and dropped his voice to a low whisper. “The bodyguards aren’t really bodyguards. They’re thieves!”

  Evren frowned. “Thieves?” In the years he’d known Hailen, the boy had never shown an overactive imagination. He hadn’t needed one, given everything he’d seen and done during his adventures with the Hunter of Voramis. Yet this seemed a stretch, even coming from a boy who had the blood of the Serenii coursing through his veins and who could activate the power of the ancient race with a touch.

  “Yes!” Hailen’s head bobbed. “From Praamis. From the Night Guild.”

  Evren’s gut tightened. He’d overheard the Hunter and Kiara discussing the Night Guild before the Hunter left for Praamis. The criminal enterprise organized all the cri
me in the city, profiting off murder, poisoning, blackmail, theft, and prostitution. The Hunter had compared them to the Bloody Hand—never a favorable comparison, given the Bloody Hand’s history with the Hunter.

  “You’re sure?” Evren demanded.

  Hailen nodded. “I overheard the man, Kodyn, talking about his mother.” His eyes went wide. “Did you know that his mother is the Master of the Night Guild?”

  “Damn!” Evren’s eyebrows shot up. “Did you happen to overhear what they’re doing here in Shalandra? Aside from protecting Lady Briana?”

  “I did.” A sly smile broadened Hailen’s face. “I was practicing my sneaking like you and Kiara taught me when I heard them talking with Arch-Guardian Suroth. Well, they were talking and the Arch-Guardian was wiggling his fingers.” Hailen demonstrated, a sight so ridiculous that Evren couldn’t help laughing aloud.

  “But I heard them talk about the Vault of Ancients,” Hailen continued. “And Kodyn said something about a big secret, though he didn’t say what it was.”

  Evren frowned, his mind racing. “The Vault of Ancients has to be the vault where the Blade of Hallar is stored. But what do they want with it?” Thieves from Praamis, come all the way to Shalandra to steal…what?

  “I don’t know,” Hailen said. “But the only way we’re going to find out is if we work with them.” He fixed Evren with a meaningful look. “If we stay and work with them.”

  “Hailen, you know what that means, right?” Evren asked.

  “Yes.” Hailen’s expression grew solemn. “That’s why I told them about my blood. It means working with Briana to unlock the secrets of the Serenii.”

  Worry coiled like a serpent in Evren’s gut. On his journey from Voramis, he’d been plagued by dreams of Hailen’s soul being consumed by Serenii-forged weapons, burning alive as he tried to wield the magic of the ancient race. He’d only known the rudiments of what Father Reverentus and the other demon-hunting Cambionari priests were teaching Hailen in Voramis, but he’d seen it put into full effect mere hours ago when Hailen had activated the Serenii artifact with a few words and a drop of his blood. Now, Hailen wanted to put himself at greater risk by messing with a power he didn’t yet understand—fiery hell, that no one on Einan understood fully.

  “It’s too dangerous, Hailen.” Evren shook his head. “The Hunter would never—”

  “The Hunter wanted me to learn!” Hailen’s voice rose to a shout. “It’s why he allowed me to study with Father Reverentus in the first place.”

  “Shhh!” Evren hushed the boy. “Not so loud.”

  “I’m not the child you met in Vothmot anymore, Evren.” Anger flashed in Hailen’s eyes, but thankfully he lowered his voice. “I know what it means to be Melechha, to have the power of the Serenii.”

  Evren held his breath as Hailen snatched up the long, rune-covered stone and waved it in front of his face. He had no idea what it could do, but the demonstration of power he’d witnessed filled him with a healthy wariness of anything Serenii.

  “The Hunter knows that I’m the only one of my kind still alive on Einan, at least as far as the Cambionari know.” Hailen squared his shoulders, defiance written in his eyes. “That means that I need to learn as much as I can about the Serenii. Just knowing that I’m a Melechha doesn’t give me any clue as to what I’m supposed to do!”

  Evren’s jaw dropped at the frustration that echoed loud in Hailen’s voice. Hailen still looked a great deal like that child Evren had met on the road into the Empty Mountains, but he seemed to have aged five years in the space of a minute. He alone bore a burden that few in the world could understand.

  Hailen was the descendant of the Serenii, and he alone could wield their power—the power that had saved Einan from utter destruction by the Devourer of Worlds just a few years ago, and which would be needed to do so once again.

  The Hunter had accepted Kharna’s mission of collecting enough souls to seal the rift against the Devourer of Worlds, but he couldn’t do it alone. He was Bucelarii, descendant of demons, but it took the blood of a Serenii to activate the magic of Enarium. Hailen was right: he was the only one on Einan that could do it.

  The implications of that realization staggered Evren. Hailen bore this immense burden alone. For years, he’d lived with the knowledge that if he didn’t do what needed to be done, the world would be destroyed. The boy had never shown any hint of resentment at the fact; he’d simply borne the burden with his usual cheerful disposition.

  Suddenly, Evren had a glimpse as to why Hailen had been so desperate to flee Voramis and accompany Evren on his journey. Hailen had been so immersed in things that it had to feel suffocating. By escaping, it had given him back a hint of the “normal” he’d experienced before he knew the truth of his heritage.

  “I’m sorry,” Evren said in a quiet voice. “I never…” He blew out a breath, shaking his head. “I’ve been so focused on trying to protect you that I never really thought about what you were dealing with.”

  “I know you have.” A sorrowful smile twisted Hailen’s lips upward. “And I know you’re trying to do what’s best for me. After all, you’re my brother, right?”

  Evren chuckled. “You know it.” He punched Hailen playfully on the arm. “Especially if it means I get to pound sense into you from time to time. Though I guess this time it’s your turn to be the rational one.”

  “Every time.” Hailen’s smile brightened. ”You’re just too stubborn to realize that I’m smarter than you.”

  “Is that so?” Evren raised an eyebrow.

  Hailen’s expression grew smug. “Ask the Hunter and Kiara and they’ll tell you.”

  “Sure.” Evren snorted. “I’ll do that just as soon as we get back to Voramis.”

  “But not before we do what we came here to do.” Hailen’s face sobered. “For you, that means getting into the Vault of Ancients and stealing the Blade of Hallar. Which you might actually have a better chance of doing if you’re willing to work together with Kodyn, Aisha, and Briana.”

  Evren rolled his eyes. “The Night Guild’s not exactly the ‘work together’ type. The moment they hear who we’re really working for—not Killian or the Cambionari, but the Hunter—they’re going to stick a knife in us faster than a miser chasing a runaway coin.”

  “Maybe, but maybe not.” Hailen shrugged. “We’ll never know if we don’t give them a chance.”

  Evren raised an eyebrow. “Damn, Hailen. All that time you’ve spent around those doddering old priests really made you wise.”

  “Nah.” Hailen shook his head. “Like I said, I was always smarter than you.”

  “Where I come from, smart-asses get taken down like anyone else.” Evren raised his fists, a mock scowl on his face. “That big brain of yours isn’t going to save you from me.”

  “You can’t beat me.” Hailen smirked. “I’m the last Melechha, remember?”

  “That’s just playing dirty.” Evren shook his head.

  Hailen shrugged. “You know what the Hunter always says. ‘Fight with every weapon at your disposal’.” He held up the artifact. “Which means we need to find out if this is a weapon or, if not, what it really is.”

  Evren eyed the object in Hailen’s hand. The only remarkable features on the plain black stone were the strange runes etched into its surface. Otherwise, it looked as innocuous as any other stone. Yet Evren couldn’t shake the memory of that ear-splitting humming, the sudden rush of energy, and the surge of light it had emitted on contact with Hailen’s blood and those magical words he’d spoken.

  “You sure about this?” he asked. “It’s dangerous, messing with that kind of power.”

  Hailen nodded. “I know, but it’s something I have to do.” His expression grew grim. “The Cambionari have some knowledge of Serenii, but barely a fraction of everything there is to learn. I can read just a few of their strange runes and I know only a handful of their words of power.”

  “Like the ones you used last night?” Evren asked.

  “Y
es,” Hailen replied. “But if Briana’s father really did spend his life studying the Serenii, he might have uncovered information that could be useful to me. Not only now, but later, when the time comes that I have to…” He trailed off for a long moment, then shrugged. “Do whatever it is I have to do.”

  Evren had heard the stories of Enarium and the magical energy it harnessed. The city wouldn’t have sufficient power to close the rift until the next Withering, nearly five hundred years in the future. Unless Hailen had also inherited the Serenii’s immortality, he’d be long gone before that day came.

  No wonder he’s so frustrated, Evren thought. He’s aware that he’s not going to live long enough to fulfill the one purpose he knows about, and he has no idea what else he’s supposed to do. Simply living to bear children and pass on the bloodline would be a meaningless existence by any standard.

  “So be it.” Evren found the words forming on his lips before his mind reached a final conclusion. Yet, as he said them, he knew he’d made the right choice. “We’ll stay and help. You’ll work with Lady Briana to unlock whatever Serenii secrets her father has written down. I’ll work with the bodyguards to help them take on these Gatherers and the Necroseti.” He sighed. “You know we’re about to pick a fight with the most powerful people in the city, right?”

  Hailen grinned. “Sounds like exactly the kind of thing the Hunter would do, doesn’t it?”

  “The only difference is that we’re not immortal like he is.” Evren grimaced as an ache formed behind the bruise on his forehead. A few hours of rest had driven back the nausea and vertigo, but his head would still hurt for days to come. “I’d give anything for that healing ability of his right now.”

  “You know what he’d say if he heard you right now, don’t you?” Hailen’s grin turned smug.