Heirs of Destiny Box Set

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Heirs of Destiny Box Set Page 65

by Andy Peloquin


  "If my father knew anything about it, we’ll find it in these pages.” Briana gestured to the book. “Which makes it all the more important you learn that cipher, Hailen.”

  The boy winced but nodded. “I know.”

  Evren grinned at Hailen. “You’ve got this. At least these books are interesting, right? All that Serenii stuff you need to learn.”

  “Which he’ll never learn with you here.” Briana made a shooing motion of her hand.

  Evren got the hint. With a chuckle, he left the two of them sitting on the bed, surrounded by priceless artifacts from an ancient civilization, their noses buried in books.

  He went to the other room, the one where Kodyn had spent the afternoon planning his break-in. The room was dark, cool, and welcoming. Evren took a seat on the simple chair, the room’s single piece of furniture aside from the crude bed with its reed mattress, and relaxed.

  Things are well in hand. A smile broadened his face. Kodyn and Aisha are going to get us the proof we need to deal with the Necroseti. Hailen and Briana are going to find our way in. And me, well, I get to kick back for once.

  He reclined as best he could against the straight wooden chair back and stared out the window. The houses across the street were empty, dark, save for one two-story building on the next corner. The light of a single candle illuminated what looked like a dining room, though it was too far for Evren to see clearly.

  His smile froze as he caught sight of movement in the shadows down the street. His eyes snapped to the spot where he’d seen it and he squinted into darkness, trying to make out any details. Long minutes passed with nothing of interest. He tried to brush it off as nothing more than his anxiety that had set in after his run-in with Annat.

  You’ve been working with the Hunter so long you’re seeing demons in every shadow.

  Yet the instincts that had kept him alive on the streets of Vothmot warned him that he had seen something.

  He remained motionless, eyes fixed on that spot. Another minute passed, and still nothing.

  Was it just my imagination?

  He was about to give up, to turn away, when suddenly the movement came again. No mistaking it this time. He could make out the shadow of a man sitting on a darkened doorstep.

  Cold dread seeped into his chest. Someone is watching our house.

  His mind raced as he tried to figure out what to do. He contemplated and discarded half a dozen plans in the space between heartbeats. Finally, he settled on the one that seemed best to him.

  Silently, he slipped down the stairs to the ground floor. Nessa sat in the stuffed armchair, reading by the light of a candle.

  “Nessa,” Evren said in a low voice, “I need you to take a cup of water out to Hykos.”

  “Water?” Nessa’s brow furrowed.

  Evren nodded. “Yes. And, when you give it to him, tell him someone’s watching us from across the street.”

  Nessa’s hand flew to her throat and her eyes widened. “W-Watching us?”

  “Just tell him,” Evren insisted. “He needs to know that there could be trouble ahead.” With that, he turned and slithered through the shadows of the small room toward the kitchen.

  “What about you?” Nessa hissed after him. “Where are you going?”

  Evren shot her a fierce grin. “I’m going to go get some answers from our watcher friend.” He hefted one of his daggers. “One way or another.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Aisha settled into the shadows of the alleyway and tried not to worry. Kodyn had been gone for the better part of three hours—far longer than either of them had anticipated. But she’d spent enough time around the apprentices of House Hawk to know that jobs sometimes went awry. Complications and delays were par for the course, and a good thief adapted as the situation demanded.

  That didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking for those waiting outside. Even though Aisha knew Kodyn had the skills, stealth, and wits to get out of almost any situation, even the most capable thieves could find themselves in circumstances from which there was no escape.

  She tried to thrust the worry from her mind, occupying herself with thoughts of Thimara, the spirit from Briana’s house. The spark of the woman’s life danced through her veins, setting the nerves in her fingers tingling.

  Thimara and Uryan. The image of those words etched into the stone windowsill flashed before her eyes and brought a smile to her face. The ghost of the dead Secret Keeper had worried about being forgotten—as did all Kish’aa with no one to remember their names—but Aisha knew at least one person would carry the name Thimara for as long as she lived.

  But what about when Uryan dies? Uryan had to be approaching her fifth decade. Her time on this world was limited. When the time came that she joined Thimara in Pharadesi, who would remember them then?

  That was why Ghandians celebrated the Kish’aa-annat, the Night of the Spirits. Once a year, every member of the tribe would build an altar to celebrate and commemorate their revered ancestors, the family that awaited them in Pharadesi. Animal skins would be stretched on a wooden frame and every man, woman, and child in the village would paint names of deceased loved ones on the hide. A way to ensure that no one would be forgotten. The Kish’aa-annat feasts always involved plenty of drinking, dancing, and singing, but as a girl, Aisha had always loved hearing the stories to memorialize those passed on to the next life.

  The dull humming grew louder in her mind, and Aisha felt her eyes drawn deeper into the shadows. She froze as two blue-white figures materialized before her. A man and woman hovered in the air, their fingers interlaced, their spirits joined in death. The man wore the familiar breastplate that marked him as one of Suroth’s guards, while the woman wore an elegant sheath dress that marked her not as a Dhukari, but as a personal servant.

  Two pairs of lifeless eyes fixed on Aisha and their calls echoed in her mind. She felt herself drawn toward them, like a lodestone that called to metal. She fought that pull—she didn’t dare move from her position for fear of being spotted.

  Yet her arm reached out of its own accord, hand outstretched toward the two spirits. The spark of Thimara’s life danced between her fingers as if drawing those ghostly figures to her. Aisha glanced up the alley and, finding it empty, stood and slipped in silence toward the blue-white figures floating in the air. The stench of death and decomposing flesh hit her as she drew nearer. She didn’t need to look inside the tied-up canvas bundles dumped into a storm gutter to know their contents.

  Her eyes returned to the Kish’aa and again her hand reached out to them. They came to her, responded to her Umoyahlebe power. She could not hear them, but she could sense their pain, feel the emotions that consumed their ethereal beings.

  The moment their spectral hands touched hers, a burning, sizzling energy coursed down Aisha’s fingers and up her arms. The spirits seemed to be pulled into her body, and the twin sparks burned bright and hot for a brief instant before settling down to two glowing embers.

  Two names sprang to Aisha’s mind—her own memory or the spirits’, she couldn’t be certain. Eldesse and Osirath. Briana’s personal maidservant and her husband, one of Suroth’s guards.

  She whispered the names aloud, and the two sparks within her flared to life, confirming her belief.

  Suroth had said that the two had played a role in Briana’s abduction—how else could he explain their disappearance? Yet, as Aisha pulled back the canvas and got a good look at the bodies, she found another explanation.

  Her ears pricked up at the faint sound of scuffing stone from above and to her right. Aisha glanced up in time to see Kodyn climbing over the wall surrounding Suroth’s mansion. Within a minute, he dropped into the alley beside her. Moonlight shone on his face, revealing a massive grin.

  “We’ve got the bastard!” he hissed. “We’ve got the proof we need to get Lady Callista to clap him in irons and string him up in Murder Square.”

  Triumph surged within Aisha’s chest—though it could simply have been the bri
ght-burning sparks of the two spirits. “Yes!” Things were finally falling in their favor; Briana would have vengeance for her father’s death, beginning with the priest that had evicted her so cruelly.

  “Let’s get back and show the others.” Excitement edged Kodyn’s voice.

  Aisha went first, keeping an eye on the Path of Gold ahead for any sign of Indomitables. Thankfully, patrols were scarce at this hour—with more than sixty Indomitables guarding the one gate that led into the Keeper’s Tier, the Dhukari had little to fear.

  Just before they slipped onto the main avenue, Aisha and Kodyn shrugged out of their dark cloaks and rolled them into tight bundles. Now, with their headbands, they looked like two Dhukari servants on an errand to deliver something for their master.

  The guards at the gate to the Defender’s Tier glanced at them, but one look at their headbands—Hailen’s green-and-gold headband for Kodyn, and for Aisha a red-and-gold headband Kodyn had swiped from Industry Square on the way to his meeting with the Black Widow—and he waved them through.

  They hurried down Death Row with the purposeful gait of low-ranked attendants on an important errand for a demanding master. With only a few people moving around the Defender’s Tier at this time of night, they made good time, reaching the gate to the Artisan’s Tier in less than an hour. Again, the Indomitables waved them through—only truly important errands would take a Dhukari’s servant out at this hour.

  Once, the sparks of life within Aisha flared to life, so hot that it set her hands tingling and a shiver of heat running down her spine. When she looked around, she thought she caught sight of a dark shadow following them thirty or forty paces back. But when they reached the Artisan’s Courseway and turned west, the three spirits fell silent, the heat diminishing.

  Just to be certain, she signaled to Kodyn, “We might have a tail.”

  With a nod, the Hawk ducked down a side street, doubled back twice, and crossed nearly one quarter of the Artisan’s Tier through the back alleys and narrow lanes before returning to the Artificer’s Courseway. As they passed through the now-silent Industry Square and crossed Trader’s Row, Aisha found no sign of pursuit.

  She did, however, see those strange words painted onto the side of stalls in Commerce Square. One proclaimed “Child of Gold” in big, blocky letters, while another a short distance away bore the words “Child of Spirits”. The Prophecy of the Final Destruction had come to the Artisan’s Tier as well.

  Rothin’s hand dropped to his sword hilt as she and Kodyn emerged from the shadows of the alley, but stopped as he caught sight of them. “Master Kodyn, Mistress Aisha.” He released his grip on his sword and stepped aside to let them enter the back door.

  Aisha nodded a greeting as she passed. Good to see he’s awake.

  The smell of spices, herbs, and chicken grease still hung thick in the kitchen, setting Aisha’s stomach rumbling. She’d been too nervous to eat more than a few bites of food before she left with Kodyn. She snatched a drumstick that Leya had left out on the counter and devoured the tender meat in a mouthful.

  Kodyn hurried up the stairs ahead of her and burst into Briana’s room. “We’ve got him by the bollocks now!”

  Briana and Hailen’s heads both snapped up, startled.

  Kodyn produced a neatly folded parchment from within his robes, unfolded it, and slapped it down on the bed beside Briana. “Hah, the bastard can’t wiggle his way out of this!”

  Aisha stepped closer and frowned down at the parchment. The words “Bill of Lading” were printed in big, bold letters. Beneath it was a list of goods, quantities, and expected sale price. Aisha had seen similar bills piling up in Master Phoenix’ office—brothels required mind-boggling quantities of liquor, food, clothing, and other sundries.

  Briana lifted it to the light of the candle and read over the contents. “I don’t get it,” she said after a moment of study, and turned a frown up at Kodyn. “How does a list of shipped goods help us against Angrak or the Keeper’s Council?”

  “Read what he’s selling.” Kodyn turned that infuriating, cocky grin on Aisha. Clearly he was pleased with his results and loving the fact that he alone knew a truly important secret.

  “Twelve bushels of olives,” Briana read aloud. “Three hundred ells of linen, fifty ells of silk, and…” Her eyes flew wide. “Grain!”

  Kodyn grinned. “Damned right!”

  Aisha was puzzled by their sudden delight—how did a shipment of grain help them nail Angrak to the wall?

  “There’s no way he’s actually shipping grain, is there?” Briana’s eyebrows knit together. “Not away from Shalandra at least. The farms outside the city don’t produce anywhere near enough to feed the people on the Slave’s Tier, much less the entire population. Which means he’s trying to cover for something else that he’s transporting.”

  Kodyn’s smile widened until it nearly split his face in half. “He’s selling shalanite!” Triumph echoed in his voice and set his eyes sparkling. “And he’s doing it for the Keeper’s Council.”

  Briana sucked in a breath. “No!”

  “Oh, yes!” Kodyn nodded. “I heard it with my own ears as I hid in your father’s office while Angrak got a truly entertaining dressing-down Councilor Natoris.”

  Aisha tried to remember which one Natoris was—she had a hard time telling the pudgy-faced, greasy Necroseti apart. Aside from the hunchbacked attendant she’d seen in the palace, the only one that had made any impression on her was Madani, though certainly not for his charms or good looks. Councilor Madani had been the most vocal in his taunts of Briana.

  “What did he say?” Briana demanded. “His exact words.”

  Kodyn scrunched up his face. “The Council chose you because of the one value you possess: your ability to siphon off enough ore from the mines to make us a profit.” He spoke in a nasal voice that grated on Aisha’s ears. “This reward is not because you are worthy of a place on the Council or because anyone else in the Keeper’s Priesthood believes you are capable of anything more than doing what you are already doing.”

  Briana sucked in a breath. “So it’s true!”

  “Damn right it’s true.” Kodyn let out a delighted whoop of laughter and thrust a finger at the bill of lading. “And that’s the proof we need to hand his ass over to Lady Callista.”

  “Wait, I think I’m missing something.” Confusion set Aisha’s mind spinning. “I get that stealing is a crime, but we’re talking a stern reprimand or a heavy fine at worst, right?”

  “If he were actually stealing grain, perhaps not.” Briana inclined her head. “But the theft and exportation of shalanite is considered treason.”

  Aisha’s eyebrows shot up. “Treason?”

  Briana nodded. “Shalanite is the city’s chief export—the only export of any real worth, truth be told. It is incredibly rare, found only deep within Alshuruq, and its use in Shalandran steel makes it one of the most prized minerals on Einan. Because of its value, the Pharus and the Keeper’s Council are able to afford the comestibles imported into Shalandra to feed the populace.”

  Aisha had only a basic understanding of business practices from her time working with Master Phoenix to run the pleasure houses of Praamis, but even she could see where this was headed.

  “So,” she said, “if the supply of shalanite suddenly increased, the value would decrease.”

  “Precisely.” Briana shot her an approving grin. “Thus, the mining and sale of shalanite is extremely regulated. Every ounce of shalanite extracted from our mines is accounted for by a team of auditors and bookkeepers under the watchful eye of the Keeper’s Council.”

  “Well, there’s your problem right there!” Kodyn gave a derisive snort. “They’re the ones dipping their hands into the cookie jar.”

  Briana inclined her head. “Yes, but because it is vital to the survival of Shalandra, a system of checks and balances has been set up. One of the duties of the Elders of the Blade is to corroborate all of the mining and exportation records produced by t
he Necroseti and Reckoners working for the Council. They have their own independent auditors to verify everything. Anyone, from the lowest Kabili working the mines to the highest-ranked Dhukari, found stealing and selling shalanite is summarily executed for the good of the city.”

  Aisha nodded her understanding. If the value of shalanite decreased, Shalandra would no longer be able to afford to feed its people.

  “Which means that Angrak’s up to his nostrils in shite!” Kodyn’s triumphant grin returned. “With this bill of lading, we’ve got the proof we need.”

  “Yes and no,” Briana’s face fell. “That can be used as proof that Angrak is stealing, but that doesn’t conclusively link him to shalanite.”

  Kodyn’s shoulders slumped, his momentary triumph deflated.

  “But I think there’s a way we can make it work anyway,” Briana said, and hope sparkled in her eyes. “Look.”

  Aisha bent closer to see the name inked at the bottom of the parchment. “Reckoner Dyon,” she read aloud. Reckoners were priests of the Apprentice, god of ventures, and served in the Coin Counter’s Temple as a sort of a hybrid of moneylender, banker, and records-keeper. Their vaults were said to be as secure as King Ohilmos’ private bedroom—though Ilanna had proven that both of those locations were vulnerable to clever thieves with plenty of planning.

  Yet, the Reckoners were renowned for their meticulous records and impeccable calculations. They scoured every corner of Einan for only the most intelligent, mathematics-minded youths to train in service to the Apprentice.

  “If a Reckoner signed his name to this bill of lading, he’s either complicit with Angrak or a dupe.” A sly smile split Briana’s face. “Either way, all we need to do is find the right leverage to apply pressure and he’ll give us what we need.”

 

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