Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  But he didn’t stop at simply blocking—he brought his left hand up and slammed it into the man’s wrist. Bone shattered with a loud crack. Blackfinger screamed and stumbled back, the dagger falling from his now-limp weapon hand. Before the man could recover, Evren balled his right fist and whipped it around in a haymaker punch backed with all the force of his fury. His blow crashed into the man’s jaw. Pain flared in Evren’s knuckles but Blackfinger fell like a stunned ox. He tried to get upright, but his movements were slow, unsteady, punch-drunk. Evren’s kick caught him in the face and he slumped to the alley ground, unconscious.

  At that moment, the rear door swung open again and Issa rushed out into the night. She ground to a halt as her eyes fell on him. “Evren, what—”

  Evren bared his teeth in a snarl. “He was trying to escape! Not a bloody chance I’m letting that happen.” He thrust a finger down at the insensate figure. “He’s the Keeper-damned Blackfinger!”

  Issa’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”

  “Blackfinger,” Evren repeated. “Leader of the Ybrazhe Syndicate.”

  That registered, not only with Issa, but with all the others in her company. Anger darkened their eyes and more than a few curses split the night air. They had all lived on the Slave’s Tier and Cultivator’s Tier, which meant they had encountered Blackfinger’s particular brand of cruelty.

  “You’re certain?” Issa asked.

  “Oh, yes.” Evren snarled down at the unconscious man. “He just tried to kill me a few hours ago.”

  Etai’s face twisted into a puzzled frown. “But what’s he doing here?”

  “Trying to start a riot,” Evren replied without hesitation. He quickly explained his reasoning: the Keeper’s Council’s plot to overthrow the Pharus, kill Lady Callista and the Blades, and remove any obstacles to their power. “And they roped the Syndicate into helping them, probably by offering them power or the chance to operate unchecked.”

  The Indomitables’ curses grew louder.

  Something new met Evren’s ears: shouts, angry roars, and the crash of something heavy striking solid wood.

  “What in the bloody hell happened in there?” he asked.

  “I don’t know, but it’s bad!” Worry sharpened Issa’s angular features. “We need to get out of here. And we’re taking him to Lady Callista.”

  “Damned right we are,” Evren said with a fierce grin. “Squeeze him hard enough, and he’ll give up everything that ties the Syndicate to the Keeper’s Council.”

  The sound of splintering wood echoed loud from within the warehouse.

  “Shite!” Issa cursed. “We’re moving, now!”

  To Evren’s surprise, the Blade stooped, picked up the unconscious man, and threw him over her shoulder.

  “Go!” Issa shouted.

  The small company of plain-clothed Indomitables took off down the alley, heading east, deeper into the Cultivator’s Tier. Evren fell in step with them, his eyes scanning the darkness.

  A chorus of furious shouts echoed from the south. By the Watcher! Evren’s gut clenched at the sight of the throng moving along the side streets all along Commoner’s Row. More Earaqi youths, their faces awash with anger and the light of the torches they carried. Hundreds of them, maybe even thousands, each wielding swords, spears, clubs, sickles, hoes, and any other weapons at hand.

  At the head of the throng marched the dark-robed figures Evren had seen in the Serenii tunnels. Hallar’s Warriors!

  Realization staggered him. He had failed to stop the militants. He’d found the Syndicate’s hideout, but the real threat had been Hallar’s Warriors. They had riled up a far larger throng than Blackfinger’s, and now they marched toward the Indomitables guarding the Cultivator’s Tier and the protestors sitting in silent defiance. A shudder ran down his spine. There’s no coming back from this!

  Shalandra would burn with the flames of rebellion.

  Suddenly, a deep-throated roar echoed in the night behind him. He glanced over his shoulder in time to see a score of Earaqi burst from of the rear door of the warehouse and spill out onto the streets.

  “There!” came the shout. Angry eyes fixed on him and the fleeing Indomitables. “Get the traitors!”

  “Run!” Fear lent wings to Evren’s feet and he broke into a sprint, racing past Issa, Etai, and the soldiers. He skidded around a corner and headed south, toward Commoner’s Row, in a desperate attempt to evade pursuit. The sound of heavy boots on his heels told him Issa and the others kept pace.

  Yet they hadn’t even gone one street when he spotted another crowd of armed, fiery-eyed Earaqi surging through the back alleys.

  “This way!” he shouted.

  Gritting his teeth, Evren ducked into an alley that led west, farther from his pursuers and away from the horde flooding toward the main avenue.

  Horror thrummed within him as another crowd filled the streets ahead of him. Grinding to a halt, he threw himself into the shadows between two squat stone houses. Issa, Etai, and the others followed suit, taking cover as the angry throng surged toward them.

  Evren’s heart hammered in his chest and fear sent waves of ice sheeting through his veins. His mind raced. How in the fiery hell are we getting out of here?

  The Earaqi from the warehouse had to be mere seconds behind them, and the paths ahead and to the south were blocked by angry crowds. They could take a chance that their Earaqi clothing and headbands would provide them cover within the mob itself, yet that could turn deadly the moment the throng clashed with the Indomitables.

  Enemies surrounded him, and his only way out was north, toward the solid sandstone cliffs.

  Desperation summoned an image to his mind: a parchment spread out on a sparse bed, depicting twisting, turning lines.

  The Serenii tunnels! A faint hope—he had only a hint of an idea where to find the tunnel entrance—yet he had no choice. It was their only way out.

  He hissed at Issa to get her attention. When she glanced his way, he jerked a thumb over his shoulder, deeper. “This way!” he whispered. “North!”

  Confusion twisted her face and she shook her head, thrusting a finger toward the wall.

  “I know!” Evren hissed. “Trust me.”

  After a moment, Issa nodded.

  Relief flooded Evren. Now let’s just hope I can find the damned tunnels again.

  He pushed deeper into the space between the two houses. The stone walls grated painfully against his shoulders, but he kept moving, kept slithering through the narrow space until he burst free on the other side. The back alley was empty and dark, yet the sound of the rampaging crowd seemed to echo from all around him. They could be discovered at any minute—they had to hurry to reach the tunnels and freedom.

  The plain-clothed Indomitables soon emerged from the cramped opening, one by one, until Etai and finally Issa, dragging an unconscious Blackfinger, joined them. The moment Issa appeared, Evren set off to the west, toward an alley that led them north.

  Suddenly, the light of a dozen torches spilled across the lane behind them. Evren’s heart leapt to his throat as scores of angry Earaqi thronged into the alley just two streets east of their position.

  Dark eyes fixed on him. “Get them!”

  Damn it!

  Evren threw himself into the alley, racing as fast as his feet could carry him. He reached the looming sandstone wall and raced along the lane that ran along its base.

  Come on, come on! His fingertips traced the wall’s surface at the level of his chest, his eyes scanning the surface. Moonlight and the glimmer of the approaching torches provided only faint illumination.

  Panic surged within him, acid rising to his throat as the hidden entrance to the tunnels eluded him. He was just about to give up, to suggest a new approach, when his fumbling fingers felt the deep, hand-carved grooves he sought.

  Yes!

  He stopped, fumbling along the wall for the other two grooves.

  Issa skidded to a halt a step behind him. “What in the fiery hell, Evren?” she shouted
. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her teeth were clenched against the weight of her burden. “They’re closing in from all sides and you brought us here, to the wall? You’ve led us into a trap!”

  “No.” Evren grinned. “I’ve found us a way out of this bloody mess!”

  He pressed first the two outer grooves, then the middle one. The wall gave two quiet thunks and slid open.

  Twelve pairs of eyes goggled at the dark opening.

  “Keeper’s teeth!” Etai gasped.

  Evren had no time to explain. “Get in there!” he shouted. “Hurry.”

  The Indomitable trainees hesitated a heartbeat, yet the chorus of shouts and cries of the approaching crowd made the decision simple. They raced into the darkness in a tight-packed line.

  Evren cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. “Come on, come on!” he shouted. His heart hammered a frantic beat against his ribs. The light of the torches filled the alley behind him, crawling toward him one heartbeat at a time. At any moment, the crowd would see them and it would be too late to flee. They would have to fight, but there were too many. The throng would rip them to shreds.

  “Evren!” came Issa’s shout from behind him. “Let’s go!”

  Evren turned to see Issa ducking into the passage—the last of her small company. Hope lent wings to his feet as he threw himself into the tunnels and raced after them.

  Behind him, the stone door rumbled closed, slowly, inexorably. The tumult from the streets grew louder, the shouts ringing through the passage all around them. Evren’s breath caught in his lungs as the light filling the doorway narrowed to a thin beam, then a thread.

  Come on, come on!

  The wall shut, plunging them into blessed, safe darkness.

  Gasps of breathless relief echoed in the passages around him. Evren let out a shaky breath, his knees wobbling. That was too bloody close! Leaning against the wall, he sucked in a great lungful of the dusty air and basked in the cool silence of the tunnel.

  A man’s groan sounded from nearby, shattering the momentary calm. Blackfinger was waking up.

  Before Evren could open his mouth to give warning, a loud thump of fists striking flesh reverberated through the tunnel. The groaning fell silent.

  “Someone hand me an arresting rope,” came Issa’s terse command.

  “Don’t have one,” replied a voice. “Left it with my armor back in the Fortress.”

  “Then give me your bloody headband, Nysin,” Issa snapped.

  Nysin’s grumbling echoed loud in the tunnel, followed a few moments later by the whisper of cloth pulling tight.

  “There,” Issa said. “He’s not getting out of that.”

  “Good.” Evren fumbled his way along the wall, maneuvering awkwardly around the twelve solidly built men and women crowding into the tunnel beside him. To his relief, he made it past without feeling up anything inappropriate.

  He kept moving until the first glowing gemstone flared to life. A soft red light shone within the passage, bathing the faces of the incredulous and nervous-looking Indomitables.

  Evren turned back to face them. “Let me make one thing very clear: this isn’t just a little hidey-hole, it’s a Keeper-damned maze of tunnels. Any of you get lost in here, you can wander around forever. So if you want to have any hope of getting out of here alive, you stick close to me and each other. Got it?”

  Silence met his question.

  “Fine, you’re on your—”

  A chorus of “Yes!” and “We get it!” echoed from the darkness.

  “Good.” Evren grinned. “Then follow me, and we’ll get the bloody hell out of here.”

  * * *

  Cool air washed blessed relief over Evren’s face as he stepped out of the tunnels. A glance at the stars told him midnight had long passed; it had taken them the better part of three hours to climb the steep incline from the Cultivator’s Tier to the Keeper’s Tier. Through it all, the Indomitable Nysin had kept up a steady stream of muttered complaints—until Issa had silenced him by passing the burden of the unconscious Blackfinger to him. He’d kept his mouth firmly shut, too exhausted to gripe. Finally, Etai relieved him of his burden, leaving Nysin sweating profusely but far less vocal in his grousing.

  Blackfinger had awoken an hour into the journey, but thankfully Issa had foreseen such a possibility and stuffed a wad ripped off the man’s own clothing into his mouth. It had taken a few convincing thumps from the Indomitables and Blades, but Blackfinger’s muffled protests had finally fallen silent. Now, as Etai carried the Syndicate leader out of the tunnel and into the dark night, he fixed Evren with a hate-filled glare.

  “Oh, don’t be like that.” Evren gave him a too-sweet smile. “You wanted to turn me into mushroom food. Just consider this my way of saying thank you.”

  The gag muffled Blackfinger’s words, but the venom in his eyes spoke volumes. If looks could kill, everyone in Shalandra would have dropped dead.

  Issa scanned the darkened street. “Where are we?”

  “A back alley on the Keeper’s Tier,” Evren said. “Just west of the Keeper’s Temple. Which, I’d say, we’d do well to steer well clear of.” He thrust a finger toward the bound and gagged Blackfinger. “After all, he is working with the Keeper’s Council.”

  Issa nodded. “Then we’ll go through the Citadel of Stone. There’s a back way into the palace.”

  “Is that so?” Evren cocked a curious eyebrow.

  Issa scowled. “Evren—”

  Evren cut her off with a glare. “If you even think about saying that you’re taking him alone and leaving me behind so I don’t find out your precious secret passage into the palace, you’d better rethink that.”

  Issa’s frown deepened and a hint of anger shone dark in her eyes. Etai and the ten Indomitables loomed over him, their faces hard.

  Evren refused to be cowed. “Without me, you’d all be dead, and you’d never have him. I’m damned well going to be there to see the look on his face when he realizes that he’s buggered good and proper.”

  Blackfinger’s face took on a decidedly peaked hue.

  “Yep, that’s the look!” Evren laughed. “But it’ll be way better to see it in the light of the palace. All those golden lamps will really emphasize the contours of his face, make that fear really pop, like a—”

  “Fine!” Issa threw up her hands. “You can come, if it’ll stop you from talking.”

  Evren grinned. “Deal.”

  Issa led the way as they hurried through the back streets of the Keeper’s Tier. The towering mansions of the Dhukari provided ample cover for their movements, and it proved a simple task to cling to the shadows of the side lanes. Slowly, the seven towering spires of the Hall of the Beyond fell away behind them and the solid stone fortress of the Citadel of Stone loomed tall in their vision.

  Evren had to admit it was an impressively menacing fortress. The vast stronghold had been carved from the golden sandstone of the mountain, with towers, turrets, and a parapet ringing the upper heights. A huge gate of solid bloodwood—the densest, sturdiest lumber on Einan—barred their way.

  “Open up!” Issa shouted as they rushed toward the gate.

  A slot in the gate opened and a pair of eyes peered out. “Issa?” came the question from within.

  “Hykos!” Relief echoed in Issa’s voice. “Let us in. We need to get to Lady Callista at once!”

  Moments later, the postern gate flew open and Issa’s Archateros appeared in the doorway, ushering them in.

  “What in the fiery hell are you doing on gate duty, Hykos?” Issa asked as she hurried through the gate.

  “All the higher-ranked Blades have been summoned by the Elders,” Hykos replied. His face darkened. “The situation in the city…it’s bad, Issa.”

  “We know.” Issa nodded. “We were just on the Cultivator’s Tier.”

  “What?” Hykos’ eyes widened. “But…how? There’s no way you could have—”

  Issa cut him off with a shake of her head. “I’ll tell you a
nother time, I promise. But now I need to get him to Lady Callista.” She thrust a finger at the man slung over Etai’s shoulder.

  Hykos’ jaw muscles worked and worry darkened his eyes, but he nodded. “Go.”

  Evren smiled. Yep, he’s definitely got a thing for her.

  “Thank you, Hykos.” Issa gave the Blade a warm smile, then hurried deeper into the Citadel.

  Evren followed on her heels, Etai and the Indomitables in their wake. His eyes roamed the interior of the stronghold—not that the bare stone floors, unadorned walls, and sparsely furnished halls gave him much to look at. The entire Citadel reeked of military practicality.

  They crossed what appeared to be a training yard and hurried to the north wing of the fortress, heading toward a stone tunnel that cut through the sandstone wall surrounding the palace. The moment they emerged from the passage, they barreled straight into a company of Indomitables on guard.

  “Halt!” shouted the Protector leading the soldiers. All five leveled khopeshes at the intruders. “State your—”

  “I am Issa of the Keeper’s Blades.” Issa stalked toward the man, a force of unrelenting determination. “I act on the commands of Lady Callista herself. Stand in my way or slow me down and, by the Seven Faces, you will regret it.”

  She towered a hand’s breadth over the Protector and even though she wore simple clothes, she seemed to loom over his heavily-armored figure. For an instant, she reminded Evren of the way Lady Callista dominated any room she entered.

  The intensity of her voice seemed to throw the Indomitable officer off-guard. His jaw dropped and he could find no words for a long moment.

  Finally, he stammered. “I-I will accompany you.”

  Issa said nothing, simply kept striding down the hall. It was clear she knew her way around these halls, and Evren contented himself to remain in her shadow. He had no desire to draw attention to himself and if Issa could storm her way into Lady Callista’s presence, it got them all what they wanted.

  The Indomitables fell in around them, a few casting wary glances at the plain-clothed Indomitables, Etai, and the bound, gagged man over her shoulder. Yet despite the suspicion in their eyes, they said nothing. Like all soldiers, they followed the lead of their officer and preferred to let him sort out this mess. They would be ready to fight if it turned out Issa and the others were enemies, but the Protector would face Lady Callista’s wrath.