Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  “When I learned to fight.” Aisha gave her a fierce grin.

  “Because you knew you could kill anyone who tried to lay a hand on you?” Briana asked.

  “That,” Aisha said, inclining her head, “but also the knowledge that I was worth something. That I could be good at something.”

  Briana’s expression grew confused.

  “Back home in Ghandia, my mother was nassor, a warrior chieftainess. She was the bravest and fiercest of our tribe, as fearless as a stampeding zabara and strong as a mountain ape.” The memories of her mother brought back a mixture of warm happiness and homesickness. “When I was taken by the slavers, I felt like it was my fault, like I wasn’t strong enough or enough of a warrior to stop myself from being captured.”

  Briana’s hand flashed to her throat. “How horrible!”

  Aisha nodded. “Yes. All through my captivity and for months after the Night Guild freed me, I felt weak and incapable. That is why I did not want to return to my people. I could not look my mother in the eyes knowing that I would never be a nassor like her.”

  “But that’s not true!” Briana protested. “You’re the most capable warrior I’ve ever seen.” Her eyes darted toward the door and she dropped her voice to a whisper. “Just don’t tell Kodyn I said that.”

  Aisha laughed. It felt good, like someone had opened a floodgate within her to let all the worry, fear, and tension of the last few weeks come spilling out. “That’s what I came to learn as I trained with my House Master, Ria, and Errik, Master of the assassins of House Serpent. The weakness was all in my mind. Once I stopped telling myself that I was weak and incapable, I stopped feeling that way. Eventually, I came to see the truth, that I was far stronger and more capable than I gave myself credit for. That was the day that I stopped living in fear.” She smiled. “The chains never truly came off until that day.”

  Briana seemed to ponder her words. “So will you teach me to fight like you?”

  The question caught Aisha by surprise. “You want to fight?”

  “What, you think I can’t?” Briana’s face fell.

  “No, no!” Aisha said quickly, a little chuckle. “It’s just that you never struck me as the fighting type. You’ve the temperament for it, that’s for sure.”

  Briana cocked an eyebrow. “But because I wear fancy dresses and am cultured and refined, I’m not a warrior like you?”

  After a moment, Aisha nodded. “Yes.” She turned up Briana’s right palm and placed her own next to it. “See the difference?” Briana’s hands were free of blemishes, her skin soft. By comparison, Aisha’s rough, callused palms appeared as if they belonged to a day laborer.

  “If you want to fight, I will teach you,” Aisha told her. “Anyone can learn to swing a sword, but not everyone has the knowledge that you have. I believe that will be your greatest weapon.”

  Briana’s eyes narrowed. “You think?”

  “I do.” Aisha met the girl’s gaze without wavering. “Thanks to your father, you probably know more about the Serenii and those artifacts—” She gestured to the cloth sack at the head of Briana’s bed. “—than anyone else in Shalandra. If they can be turned into weapons, you could give us a huge advantage in our battle against the Gatherers and the Necroseti. After all, if Evren is to be believed, there is immense power in the handiwork of the Serenii.”

  An eager light shone in Briana’s eyes. “You’re right!” She sat straighter, her shoulders a little higher. “But that’s not all I can do. My father has connections in the Temple of Whispers and all over the city. Connections that we can exploit.”

  “See?” Aisha grinned. “Already, you’ve proven yourself far better with your brain than I am with a sword.”

  “Then what are we waiting for?” Briana leapt to her feet. “Let’s get to the Temple of Whispers and talk to my father’s people.” Grim determination hardened her face. “We’re going to war with the Necroseti, so it’s time we recruit some allies to fight beside us.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  The sun was just peeking over Alshuruq’s eastern cliff face by the time Kodyn spotted the building where he’d seen the Gatherers meeting two days earlier.

  “There,” he indicated it with a finger. “That’s the one.”

  Evren’s eyes narrowed as he studied the building. “Looks like the sort of place suspicious shite would go down.”

  “Aye.” Despite his innate suspicion of Evren, Kodyn had to agree. The single-story building adjoined the cliff face, a simple structure that did little to attract the attention of any passersby. It was the most innocuous-looking place on the Artisan’s Tier—which made it the perfect place for clandestine meetings.

  “What say we sit for a spell and keep an eye on it?” he suggested.

  Evren seemed to mull it over for a moment, then nodded. “Might not be as abandoned as it looks.” He glanced around. “You camp here. I’ll keep watch from the next corner.”

  Kodyn wanted to argue; he’d rather keep an eye on Evren, make sure he didn’t get up to any tricks. Yet that would be a waste of time. They would be better off splitting up. “Nothing happens in half an hour, we go in.”

  “So be it.” Without another word, Evren slipped down the street. He passed the house without a glance and continued up the debris-covered alley at a casual pace. He slipped into an intersecting lane so smoothly Kodyn almost didn’t see it.

  Damn, Kodyn thought. He’s as good as any Fox or Hound. Hells, I’d almost say he’s on the level of a Serpent. If he really does train with the Hunter, that would explain it.

  He’d spent a while the previous night wrestling with the thought—the Hunter of Voramis, not just a ruthless assassin, but a savior of the world and the leader of a small crew of his own. Every one of the Hunter’s legends had painted him as a fiend, a demon, an unstoppable force of nature. Yet, as Kodyn had glimpsed during their encounters in Praamis, there clearly was another side to the man.

  A wry grin split his face. Both Evren and Hailen kind of worship him. Then again, he is the Watcher-damned Hunter of Voramis.

  Now, he’d gotten himself wrapped up in the Hunter’s quest, at least partially. Evren and Hailen had mainly agreed to help them so they could get their hands on the Blade of Hallar.

  As long as they hold up their side of the deal, I’ve got no problems with a bit of self-interest. Keeper knows that we’ve all got our own reasons for doing what we’re doing.

  He’d come to Shalandra out of a genuine concern for Briana, but he be lying if he denied that his desire to eclipse, or at least equal, his mother’s exploits had also been a motivating factor. As he’d told her before he left, it was hard to live in her shadow.

  Their two new allies seemed like decent sorts. Hailen, for certain. The boy has the all guile of a newborn foal. Everything about him screamed friendly, kind-hearted, and trusting.

  Evren was a different sort—he had the same hard-eyed wariness that Kodyn had seen in the eyes of every apprentice and Journeyman in the Night Guild. Years of difficult living had that effect on people. He and Evren had a lot in common—they were suspicious of everything because anything could come back to bite them in the arse.

  Kodyn shrugged. Life among scheming, cunning criminals had instilled an innate wariness in him. And yet, he had hated that about Bryden, his House Master. Master Hawk always sought an angle, a trick, a way to stab his enemies in the back while robbing them to their face. Kodyn had wanted to find a way to distance himself from that suspicious, duplicitous attitude. No easy task, especially given the enemies they faced in the Gatherers and the Keeper’s Council. But Evren and Hailen might be a different matter.

  I could give them a chance. If they’re telling the truth, they need our help more than we need theirs.

  Thanks to Briana, he had access to the Palace of Golden Eternity. He still needed to find a way into the Vault of Ancients, but that would only happen if Briana could decipher her father’s journal. But right now, they had the threat of the Gatherers loomin
g over their heads. That had to be his main focus. As long as he kept Briana out of harm’s way, she’d be able to get him the information he needed. Three weeks wasn’t a lot of time, but it ought to be enough.

  Speaking of time. He glanced up at the sun. It has to have been half an hour by now.

  He slipped from his perch and strode toward the front door of the building. At the same time, Evren appeared from his own hiding place.

  Kodyn was about to use the Secret Keeper hand signals Briana had taught him, but remembered that Evren didn’t know them. Instead, he closed the distance to the young man and said in a low voice, “I’ll take the front. Back door’s around the eastern side of the building.”

  Evren nodded and slipped into the narrow alleyway, disappearing from view. Kodyn strode straight toward the front door and reached for the doorknob. He didn’t even need his lockpicks; the knob turned easily and the wooden door swung inward on silent hinges—a telltale sign that someone wanted to avoid attention, given how much rot had seeped into the wood.

  The interior of the house was all but empty, save for an overturned chair on the far side of the main room. A door opened onto the house’s only other room—kitchen, pantry, washroom, and bathroom all rolled into one.

  Kodyn took in the small room at a glance. Save for the thick coating of dust covering the overturned tables and the footprints that led up and down the stairs, there was no sign anyone had been here in weeks.

  A moment later, Evren slipped in through the second room.

  “Anything?” Kodyn asked in a low mutter.

  Evren shook his head. “Not so much as a sandalprint.”

  With a grimace, Kodyn turned to climb the steps to the attic. As the stairs creaked beneath his boots, a memory flashed through his mind: flames of a sickly green color consumed the straw mattress and ragged blankets of an upstairs attic. His throat was raw from screaming and the choking smoke. Ria’s strong arms encircled him, lifted him from the floor, and together they dashed down the burning stairs a moment before they crumbled. Cool darkness greeted them. A second later, a thunderous crash signaled the collapse of his home—his life.

  Kodyn’s gut twisted at the memory of the night he and Ria had nearly died in the fire that consumed Old Town Market. The Bloody Hand had set the flames in an attempt to kill Ilanna—he would have died had Ria not gotten them out in time.

  Focus, Kodyn! He shoved down the painful memory before it set his hands trembling as it always did and gritted his teeth.

  “This is where I heard them talking about kidnapping Briana.” Kodyn tried to speak in a normal tone, though his voice sounded tight, strained to his own ears. “I heard at least five men, though there could have been more.”

  He scanned the footprints visible in the thick layer of dust on the floor and found that closer to ten people had been in the room. Yet the room was bare, without even chairs or wooden crates to sit on.

  “We’ll search every bit of the place and hope they were careless enough to leave something.” Evren thrust a finger to the right. “You go that way, I’ll go this way, and we’ll meet in the middle.”

  Kodyn began searching the room by the faint light that streamed through a hole in the roof thatching. Thanks to his mother, he’d spent time studying with every House in the Night Guild. He was a Hawk apprentice, but Ilanna had insisted that he develop at least the basic skills that kept the other apprentices alive: the stealth and martial abilities of the Serpents, the street savvy of the Foxes, the strength of the Bloodbears, a basic understanding of herbology and potions from the Scorpions, even the natural camouflage abilities developed by the Grubbers, who moved among the people of Praamis with an invisibility achieved by beggars and those considered “undesirable”. House Phoenix—the house to which Aisha and Ria, his other mother, had belonged—was the only one he hadn’t spent time with.

  The Journeymen of House Hound had taught him a few basic essentials of tracking. He had the skills of a second-year Hound apprentice, which meant he could at least discern which way a footprint was leading, tell the mark of a boot apart from one left by a sandal, and even get a general sense of his prey.

  Aside from the marks of the sandals in the middle of the room, there were few things of interest in the upper-floor room. The occasional crack in the stone walls, rusted floor nails, or glimmering spider’s web was all he could find as he searched the southern wall, then turned to search along the west side of the house. By the time he reached the northwestern corner of the house, he was about ready to write the search off as fruitless.

  Yet something caught his attention. He stooped, frowning, and reached for the object he’d spotted: a fragment of black cloth, barely the width and length of his pinky finger. It had caught on a rusted nail and ripped.

  “Evren!” Kodyn hissed. “Take a look at this.”

  Evren hurried over to him and squinted down at the strip of black cloth. “Is that—”

  “Necroseti robes?” Kodyn finished the thought. “Do you know anyone else who wears black?”

  Evren frowned. “So that confirms that one of the Keeper’s Priests was here. Unfortunately, that doesn’t do us a lot of good.”

  “I know,” Kodyn said with a nod, his tone glum. “We already knew the Gatherers were former Necroseti, so all it means is that one of them kept his robes long enough to rip it here.”

  “Keeper’s teeth!” Evren swore.

  “That’s what I was going to say.” Kodyn cast one last glance around the room. Their search had proven fruitless—all save for this useless clue. They’d wasted their time. “Come on. Let’s get out of here. Maybe the Black Widow will be able to help.”

  Evren nodded, displeasure etched into every line of his dark face. A low growl of frustration rumbled in his throat as he stalked down the stairs ahead of Kodyn. He gave the ground floor one last look-over, in vain.

  “Come on,” Kodyn urged. “It’s going to take a bit of time to set up a meeting with the Black Widow, so the sooner we get on it, the better.”

  With a grunt, Evren followed him out onto the street. As Kodyn strode along beside the young man, he couldn’t help studying Evren. His eyes caught the contours of the various daggers tucked into hidden sheaths beneath Evren’s clothing. Two larger blades were barely visible in the back of Evren’s belt.

  Kodyn’s eyebrows rose in surprise. I wonder if he knows how to use them. Given that Evren had taken on the Gatherers in Suroth’s mansion, clearly he knew his way around a fight. Good to know he’s not going to be one more person we’ve got to protect.

  Truth be told, Kodyn felt relieved at the thought that they might have another fighter to join their little crew. One more person to take up arms in the upcoming battle against the Necroseti and the Gatherers.

  If we can ever find them. Impatience and frustration warred within him. He’d spent the last nine years in the Night Guild learning to be patient, to bide his time as he watched and waited for his targets to give him the perfect opening. Yet now, knowing what was on the line, he couldn’t help feeling like every moment’s delay could cost them dearly.

  Kodyn adjusted the green headband Evren had given him—all the disguise he’d need, given his foreigner’s clothing. He had Hailen’s green-and-gold-braided headband tucked within a secret pocket, just in case they needed to get past the guards on the upper tiers. Evren wore a headband of plain red-dyed crimson, but Kodyn knew he had his red-and-gold servant’s band as well.

  By the time they reached the Artificer’s Courseway, the sun had risen above the eastern cliff face, bathing the world in a brilliance that set the golden sandstone glowing. Already, the first of the morning crowds had begun to flood the main avenue. A steady stream of carts, animals, and pedestrians flowed eastward, toward Commerce Square and Industry Square on the far side of Trader’s Way.

  He scanned the crowds until he found what he sought: a child, eight or nine years old, wearing an iron bracelet.

  “Hang back a minute,” Kodyn said in a low voic
e. To Evren’s credit, he slowed his pace without a word.

  Kodyn pulled into the lead, approaching the boy at a faster clip and bumping into him hard enough to throw him off-balance. When the boy whirled to snarl an insult at him, Kodyn spoke first. “Tell the Black Widow the Praamian needs to see her now.”

  The boy’s mouth snapped shut, and his anger faded to a look of feigned disinterest—all for the benefit of anyone watching, Kodyn knew.

  “There’s a lot going on that she needs to know about,” Kodyn continued.

  “Go to The Banded Brothers Brewery,” the boy responded without looking at him. “We’ll get word to you in an hour.”

  With those words, the young man strode away and disappeared into the crowd.

  Kodyn turned to Evren. “Do you happen to know where The Banded Brothers Brewery is?”

  Evren raised an eyebrow. “Bit early for a drink, isn’t it?”

  “Maybe.” Kodyn grinned and gave Evren a shrug. “But that’s where we’re headed. The Black Widow will be expecting us.”

  “Ah.” Understanding shone in Evren’s eyes. “Well, now that you mention it, all this work is making me quite thirsty. What say we find that brewery and see what fine beers Shalandra has to offer?”

  Kodyn chuckled, but he couldn’t help the nervous tension that roiled within him. He’d failed to make it to his last meeting with the Black Widow, and something told him that the spymistress wouldn’t be happy.

  His gut tightened. Let’s just hope she doesn’t decide to express her displeasure with a knife in the back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The Banded Brothers Brewery was pretty much exactly as Evren had expected. Though the drink of choice changed from city to city, the ambience and clientele rarely did.

  The interior of the brewery reeked of hops, with a yeasty smell that turned his nose and unsettled his stomach. The wooden benches were hard, the tables stained with all manner of discolorations, with a worn look that seemed to permeate every corner of the stone-walled room. Even the enormous barrels behind the long stone bar seemed one jostle away from bursting at the seams—much to the delight of the men and women crowding the sparsely furnished room.