Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  “Angrak?” Disdain cracked Tannard’s stony façade. “That is your urgent message?”

  Issa nodded. “She will know what it means.”

  Tannard held her gaze for a long moment, his expression inscrutable save for his contempt of her. Finally, he shrugged. “So be it. I will deliver your message to the Lady of Blades immediately.”

  Issa felt the tension drain from her shoulders. She hadn’t won the war of wills, but even this small triumph felt as marvelous as her victory in the Crucible.

  “But while I do that, you have your training to complete.” Tannard thrust a finger at the training yard. “It has been too long since you completed the Blade’s Two Hundred.”

  Relief turned to bitter ashes in Issa’s mouth. The Blade’s Two Hundred was a training regimen that far surpassed punishing: two hundred push-ups, pull-ups, squats, sword strokes, and shield thrusts, with a Full Score to finish it off. The last time she’d been set to do it, she’d passed out with the effort. Yet one look in Tannard’s eyes told her that he would offer her no mercy, no escape.

  Despite the exhaustion permeating every fiber of her being, Issa lifted her head and stood straight. “As you say, Invictus.” With a crisp salute, she turned on her heel and stalked toward the training yard. She didn’t dare glance over her shoulder—she wouldn’t give Tannard the satisfaction.

  Etai and Kellas both stood waiting in the training yard, limbering up in anticipation of the workout. Kellas said nothing but he actually managed a civil nod. His usual arrogance hadn’t returned, a welcome change. Since she’d saved his life in the assassination attempt on the Pharus, he’d lost his disdain for her. That was as good as she could hope for with the Dhukari.

  Etai, however, settled into a stretching lunge that turned her face away from the watching Tannard. “Where have you been?” she muttered. “We haven’t seen you since yesterday’s sparring session. Did something happen on your patrol?”

  Issa’s gut clenched as she recalled the encounter with the Indomitable patrol, their arrest of the innocent Mahjuri man, and her argument with Tannard. Yet she shook her head. “No.”

  “Rumor around the Citadel is that you’re on a special assignment for the Pharus.” Etai spoke in a conspiratorial tone. “Protecting the daughter of Arch-Guardian Suroth.”

  Issa nodded and dropped into a wide crouch to stretch her aching legs. “Yes.”

  “Damn!” Etai whistled. “But is it true that Tannard is drumming you out of the Blades? Or that he’s planning to recruit you to his crew of Gatherer-hunters?”

  “Neither.” Issa leaned deeper into the stretch. “I’m just helping the Pharus pay off his debt to the Arch-Guardian.” Everyone in the Citadel of Stone knew that Suroth had died protecting the Pharus.

  She felt a momentary twinge of regret. Etai and Hykos were the closest she had to friends here in the Citadel. The girl deserved better than a lie. Yet Lady Callista had made it clear that she trusted few people, even in her own ranks. Perhaps the time would come when Etai could be brought into her confidences, but for now, she would be careful of who she spoke with.

  All thoughts of Briana, the hunt for the Gatherers, Lady Callista, even Tannard faded from her mind as the Blade’s Two Hundred began. Under the keen eye of Byrach and Chirak, Issa knew she would only survive the workout if she focused every shred of willpower and determination.

  Exhaustion set in before she’d completed the first hundred push-ups. Yet she gritted her teeth and kept pushing though every muscle in her body screamed at her to quit.

  The only thing that kept her going was the knowledge that Lady Callista would receive her message. That alone was worth facing the torment of the Blades’ Two Hundred.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  By the Watcher, I hope this plan works! It had seemed good back at Briana’s house, but looking at the sheer height of the wall around Suroth’s mansion—now Councilor Angrak’s mansion—he found his optimism waning. I wonder if this is how mother felt when preparing for a job.

  Everyone in the Night Guild knew the tales of Ilanna’s daring exploits—the conquest of the Black Spire, the theft of Lady Auslan’s golden sarcophagus, the way she’d saved the Night Guild from execution—but few knew the feelings that accompanied each of those triumphs. She had lost friends, suffered grave injuries, dealt with hardships and setbacks that would have shattered anyone else. Even now, she still carried many of the scars, physical and emotional.

  Yet, Ria had always emphasized one important thing: grit and determination had gotten Ilanna through every one of those trials alive. He’d need them now if he was going to pull off this job.

  He’d given the entire property a thorough examination and found few weak spots and vulnerabilities. The servant’s entrance through the kitchens was one, and the side door from the stables was another—very likely the way through which the traitorous Samall had brought the Gatherers. But the one he’d never have considered before, the one he had believed so difficult as to be nearly unthinkable, was the wall.

  The exterior wall itself had only two entrances: the front gate and the tradesman’s entrance, both barred from within. Fifty feet high, carved from sheer sandstone, it abutted against the ninety-foot wall that divided the Dhukari level from the Defender’s Tier below. The walls had no need for patrols or watchmen. It would take a very clever or very strong thief to scale that wall, though it could be done with the right equipment and preparation. Kodyn had neither, but he did have years of experience analyzing the mansions of Praamis for weaknesses. This obstacle would prove an impassable challenge for any but the most skilled climbers.

  Or a Hawk.

  As an apprentice of House Hawk, he’d spent the better part of a decade climbing—first on the Perch, a maze of ropes, ladders, and walkways that filled the enormous main room of his underground living quarters; then on the Hawk’s Highway, the pathways that connected every part of his city via the rooftops. He had climbed every manner of rope, ladder, plank bridge, and wall that a metropolis like Praamis had to offer.

  And still he felt daunted by the task ahead of him. He wouldn’t need to climb high—the wall around Suroth’s mansion stood just fifty feet tall—but the traverse would prove incredibly challenging. He had to move horizontally along the wall for close to fifty yards to cross from his hiding place in the alley behind Suroth’s mansion to the rooftop gardens. From there, he could either hang a rope to climb down the exterior of the house or take the staircase that led down to the rooms on the second floor.

  Provided I can manage the traverse, that is.

  His one encounter with Shalandra’s golden sandstone gave him an idea of what to expect. As long as he didn’t rest too much weight on any single hand- or foot-hold, he shouldn’t have to worry about it crumbling beneath him.

  Still, that’s a bloody long distance to cross!

  He cast a glance up at the sky. The sun had set more than an hour earlier, but he wanted to wait until full night. He’d need the cover of darkness to make the ascent and traverse unseen.

  “You sure about this?” Aisha asked in a low voice, barely above a whisper. “This isn’t like the Perch or the Hawk’s Highway.”

  Kodyn sucked in a quiet breath. “Yeah, I’m sure.” He winced at the uncertainty that crept into his voice, so he tried again. “It’s a tough climb, but I’ve done harder.”

  A lie, and they both knew it, yet Aisha let it pass.

  She was kind like that. Aisha knew him better than anyone in the world, better even than his own mother. She had seen him at his best and worst yet never held his weaknesses and failings against him. And instead of feeling threatened by his successes and strengths, she celebrated them with a passion and joy he envied.

  They had come from different backgrounds—her, the daughter of a warrior chieftain in a distant country; he, the son of a thief—yet they had found a sense of commonality that bound them together. A bond of camaraderie that had deepened into…what exactly?

  He didn’t qu
ite know how to put his feelings for Aisha into words. His mother and Ria always spoke about the two of them in hushed tones and with sly smiles, doubtless reading into things far more than Kodyn had allowed himself to. He knew that he loved being around Aisha, loved fighting and training at her side. He’d been thrilled to hear that she would accompany him on his Undertaking, even though he hadn’t known the true reason why.

  Yet the Aisha beside him was somehow different than the one he’d known back in Praamis. Something within her had changed and she hadn’t yet told him what. He didn’t know if it was his fault that she hadn’t let him in on whatever problem consumed her mind. The only way to know would be to ask her straight out.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked.

  Aisha shot him a curious glance. “Angrak’s guard patrol won’t be by for another five minutes, but once they’re passed—”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He turned in the shadows to face her. “I’m not talking about the job. I’m talking about you.”

  “Oh.” The single word was the only answer he got. Silence thickened the air.

  He tried again. “I know something’s going on. You’ve been…different since we left Praamis.”

  “Yes.” Another monosyllabic response, another deflection from Aisha.

  Kodyn let out a slow breath. “Come on, Aisha. Talk to me. I want to help, but—”

  “This isn’t something you can help with.” Her words held more force than he’d expected. He couldn’t tell if they were resentful or frustrated.

  “You said that before. So maybe help is the wrong word. But I at least want to understand what’s going on, even if there’s nothing I can do or say to make it better.”

  Again, silence was his answer. It stretched on for a full minute, until Aisha let out a little sigh.

  “It’s not something that you can understand easily. “ Resignation and frustration mingled in her voice. “It’s not even something I really understand fully, so I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

  “If it’s too difficult to put into words, I won’t push you, at least not until you’ve got a better handle on it.” He didn’t know exactly what he was saying; he felt as if he rambled, the words pouring from his mouth. Yet he did know how he felt. He was worried about her and wanted to do anything in his power to help her at least cope with whatever burden she carried even if he couldn’t bear it himself. “I owe you that much after everything we’ve been through.”

  Again, a sigh from Aisha. “It’s not…” She trailed off with a little huff of breath. Then she groaned. “It’s going to sound insane, Kodyn, but I can—”

  She never finished her sentence. The sound of tromping feet from within the mansion’s grounds cut her off. They pressed deeper into the shadows as the tradesman’s entrance to Suroth’s mansion—Angrak’s mansion, now—creaked open. Light spilled over the alley’s stone floor from a lantern held in the hand of one black-robed guard. The radius of illumination stopped just short of Kodyn and Aisha’s hiding place. It had been one of the weaknesses Kodyn had noticed the last time they’d come for this very reason.

  Can what?! Kodyn’s mind screamed. He was desperate to find out what she’d been about to say. She had come within a breath of letting him in, only to be silenced by the presence of the Necroseti’s guards. His hope faded with the sound of their retreating boots.

  “Go,” Aisha whispered to him. Her jaw had set, her expression grown once more guarded. “We’ll have time to talk when this is over.”

  Kodyn wanted to respond—he ached to press, to dig deeper and find out what truth she’d been concealing from him all this time—but he forced himself to nod. “See you in a bit.”

  Her hand on his arm, so warm and strong, stopped him in his tracks. He turned his head to meet her choclat-colored eyes.

  “Be careful.” Genuine, earnest warmth filled her voice.

  He shot her a confident grin. “Always.”

  Her soft snort told him precisely what she thought of his statement as he set about climbing the wall.

  The vertical ascent proved easier than he’d anticipated. The sandstone had been smoothed out by competent artisans, but decades or even centuries had worn away at the surface. His strong fingers and toes dug into the cracks and grooves in the stone, his muscles propelling him upward at a steady pace.

  He climbed until he reached the top of the wall surrounding Suroth’s estate, then began the horizontal traverse that would take him over and into the mansion’s grounds. He had only a few yards to cross before he reached the wall. There, he took a short break to rest his limbs.

  That’s the easy part done with.

  He flattened himself against the top of the wall and waited until the patrol passed again. He and Aisha had spent the last hour timing the regularity of Angrak’s guards doing the rounds. They had proven far less disciplined than Rothin’s men. Their patrols passed at unpredictable intervals of ten to twenty minutes. Rather than march at a steady pace, some of the patrols hurried to get back to their cushy posts in the gatehouse while the lazier guards dawdled, favoring a slower speed. Judging by the heavy guts that protruded from beneath their burnished steel breastplates, they were a little too well-fed for guardsmen.

  The moment the lantern light of the next patrol disappeared around the corner of the mansion, Kodyn leapt to his feet and continued his horizontal climb. Hand over hand, one cautious foothold at a time, he moved at a steady, unhurried pace. He knew he could traverse the distance to the rooftop garden in less than ten minutes.

  Better to go slow than die fast. The words had been drilled into his brain by Emeen, the older Hawk apprentice that had overseen his first few years of training.

  The darkness of the night proved a two-edged sword. No one could see him from below, not without a lantern, yet he had no light to help him pick his way along the wall. He was forced to feel with his fingers and toes, which led to a few harrowing, heart-stopping moments when he found himself blocked with no way forward, up, or down.

  Yet he was no untrained tyro to lose his nerve at the first obstacle or difficulty. When he found the way unpassable, he simply retreated back along his path, then set a new course higher or lower than the first attempt. He kept his mind focused on the climb, his senses attuned to any sounds in the mansion below. Once, he froze in place at the sound of a door opening. He only relaxed at the wet sploshing sound that echoed from the direction of Suroth’s stables.

  A moment later, the nervous tension thrummed through him again as he heard the tromping of heavy boots. Shite! The guard patrol was returning, minutes ahead of schedule.

  They’d timed the distance the guards had to walk—with the mansion abutting the southern wall, the only way to patrol the entire property was to go circle back and forth along the entire perimeter.

  Of all the times to get a patrol in a hurry! Heart hammering in his ribs, Kodyn had no choice but to make the traverse faster. Hand over hand he climbed, like a spider crawling along a wall, moving between hand- and foot-holds as fast as he could manage. The sound of booted feet grew louder and he could almost feel the light shining on his back.

  With a final, desperate spurt of movement, Kodyn leapt from the wall and hurled himself at the stone lip of the rooftop garden balcony. His fingers closed around the ledge, slipped a fraction, then caught. Swallowing his panic, Kodyn hauled himself up and over the railing. He dropped to the tiled floor of the rooftop garden a heartbeat before the patrol passed beneath him. Gasping for breath, keenly aware of the pain of his skinned fingers, he slithered deeper into the shadows of a spiky blackthorn tree and crouched in the shadows.

  That was too bloody close!

  Nearly a full minute passed before his heart slowed its frantic thundering in his chest. When he finally managed to control his breathing and stop the trembling in his hands, he stood from his crouch and began working his way through the rooftop garden. The trees, bushes, and shrubs gave him ample cover to approach the gazebo at the garden’s cen
ter. Finding it dark and empty—it seemed Angrak wasn’t much of a plant lover—he made faster time using the tiled pathway that cut between the gazebo and the third floor entrance.

  He’d given a great deal of thought as to his best means of entering the mansion from the rooftop garden. His first way in would be through the staircase, but he’d brought enough rope to use as a back-up plan.

  The Mistress’ luck favored him, for the descending stairway was dark. He slipped down to the second floor as quietly as he could and listened for any approaching footsteps. When none came, he slid the door open and crept into the mansion.

  Lanterns filled the second floor with a rosy glow that seemed to make the plush elegance of Suroth’s mansion even more opulent. As he snuck down the hall that led toward Suroth’s study, he found Angrak had already redecorated. In place of the Secret Keeper’s tapestries and paintings, the new Councilor had hung religious depictions of the Long Keeper, his patron god. Dozens of candlesticks, wood carvings, tapestries, oil paintings, even marble statues bore variations on the Seven Faces of the Long Keeper.

  Pious bastard, isn’t he? Then again, Angrak was a member of the Necroseti, a priest of the god of death. Religion would permeate every facet of his life—the same religion that had elevated him to his current place of prominence.

  Kodyn’s gut tightened as a light tread sounded on the plush carpets behind him. He had an instant to throw himself into a room—what had once been Briana’s sitting room—before the footsteps turned down the hall. He waited in breathless silence as the person outside passed his hiding place. After a few moments, the footsteps returned the way they’d come.

  When the sound had finally faded, Kodyn peered out into the hallway. Finding it empty, he slipped out and all but raced the last few paces toward Suroth’s office. The door stood open, darkness thick within the chamber. Kodyn slid into the shadows with a quiet sigh of relief and pressed the door shut behind him.

  He allowed himself to spend a moment wishing he had his quickfire globes, lockpicks, and other tools of the Hawk trade. Yet those things had all been lost when the Necroseti threw Briana and Suroth’s belongings out of the mansion. If he couldn’t replace them, he’d have to find a way to do without.