Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  Then something shifted in the shadows ahead of him. A tiny flicker of movement, like a wisp of cloth swishing in front of the glowstone, thirty paces ahead of him. It disappeared a moment later, but the rasping, rattling sound drew closer.

  Evren broke into a run and sprinted the last ten paces to the corridor. Hykos pounded behind him and, together, they raced up the passage toward the exit. Anxiety set Evren’s hands shaking so hard it took him a full five seconds to find the trigger stone to open the door.

  Bright sunlight spilled into the passage as the stone wall slid open, and Evren raced out onto the Keeper’s Tier without hesitation. The moment he stepped out of the tunnels, the strange rasping sound grew even louder. It seemed to come from all around him. It sounded like bone grated on bone, or dry leaves whipped in a terrible wind. The noise brought to mind Vothmoti legends of animated skeletons rising from their graves.

  But the sight that greeted Evren was far worse than any skeleton. Ice slithered through his veins as he spotted first one, then two, then scores of hideous, slack-featured monstrosities lurching through the back streets of the Keeper’s Tier. Shambling, jerky, lurching abominations with pale, waxy flesh covered in oozing blue sores, milk-white eyes, and spittle-flecked lips and teeth. Little more than rag-covered sacks of diseased skin stretched tight over brittle bones.

  What in the bloody hell are those?

  “Stumblers!” Hykos hissed in his ear. Stunned surprise echoed in the Archateros’ voice, and he nearly stumbled over his feet.

  Evren had no idea what a Stumbler was, but even less desire to find out. “There!” He thrust a finger toward the open gate of the mansion that held the secret passage. “Inside, before they see us!”

  He sprinted the twenty paces toward the abandoned mansion, and the thump, thump of Hykos’ boots echoed from behind him. Evren glanced back and found Hykos’ face twisted in pain, sweat streaming down his forehead, yet the Archateros somehow managed to keep pace.

  Their desperate dash drew the attention of the creatures. Slack-jawed faces and empty eyes turned toward them. The monstrosities lurched in a jerky circle, awkwardly changing directions to shamble in Evren’s direction. Acid rose in Evren’s throat as one lurched in his way, outstretched hands tipped with filthy fingernails grown into long, sharp claws. Ducking the grasping arms, Evren drove a shoulder into the creature. Ribs snapped beneath the impact and the Stumbler was thrown back. It collapsed in a limp heap and lay on the ground, that horrible dry, rasping sound issuing from its gaping mouth.

  But the way to the mansion was clear. Evren and Hykos pounded up the crumbling stone walkway, through the unkempt gardens, and through the sagging door into the abandoned mansion.

  “This way!” Evren shouted.

  He led Hykos down the servants’ halls until he found the staircase that descended to the underground tunnel, pausing only long enough to light the lantern Issa had left the previous night. They didn’t stop running until they had reached the far end of the tunnel and climbed the stairs into the Hall of the Beyond.

  Evren whirled on Hykos. “What in the Keeper’s name were those bloody things?” he demanded.

  “Stumblers.” Hykos’ face had gone white beneath his golden skin, his pain tempered by a healthy dose of surprise. “Creatures of evil, corpses animated by ancient magic. I thought they were nothing more than legend, but—”

  “Those looked pretty damned real to me!” Evren’s mind whirled. Once, he might have insisted that ancient magic and evil creatures didn’t exist, that they were nothing more than myth. Yet after everything he’d witnessed—demons in human form, towering monsters with skin of stone, artifacts that could kill with just a touch—he could no longer discount it.

  He wanted to ask where they’d come from or who could have used the dark magic to create them, but Hykos seemed as shocked and confused as him. More so, in fact. The Archateros had just witnessed one of Shalandra’s foulest, darkest legends come to life. That could stagger even the strongest-willed of men.

  “We can’t worry about them now,” Evren said. “We’ve got to focus on finding Issa.”

  “Issa.” Hykos repeated the word, his tone dazed. Yet the sound of her name seemed to snap him out of it. “Right, Issa.”

  “Any idea where we’ll find her?” On their foray into the Keeper’s Temple the previous night, Evren had only seen the gardens and the massive structure of the main temple building. If the Necroseti held her within the hall itself, rescuing Issa would prove damned near impossible.

  Hykos’ brow furrowed. “I’ve only been inside the Hall of the Beyond a few times; once during the Crucible, once more during the trial of stone, and again for the Anointing of the Blades.” His expression grew pensive. “I’d say we start our search in the Crucible.”

  Evren cocked an eyebrow. “The arena? I thought that was only used for fights and testing the Keeper’s Blades.”

  “It is.” Hykos nodded. “But long ago, during the early days of Shalandra, it was used for duels to the death to settle disputes and grievances.”

  “Ah, of course,” Evren said. “Lady Callista gave us a little history lesson.”

  Curiosity flashed across Hykos’ face, but he only nodded. “While the accused and accuser awaited their trial of steel, they would be held in cells near the Crucible. Not only to prevent the guilty party from fleeing, but also to stop them from killing each other before facing the people’s justice.”

  Evren’s eyebrows shot up. “Cells sound about right!” Excitement surged within him. “You think the Necroseti would hold her there and not in the main temple?”

  “It’s the only place I can think of,” Hykos said. “At least it’s a place to start.”

  “Damned right it is.” Evren shot him a grin. “And if she’s not there, we can always grab a Necroseti guard or two and beat the answer out of them.”

  Hykos’ face darkened. “Gladly.”

  Evren grinned. He really will do anything to make sure Issa’s safe. Though Hykos had always appeared inherently noble, virtuous, Evren knew the lengths to which people would go to protect those that mattered to them. He had stooped to some truly despicable depths in the name of his friends and loved ones.

  “This way,” he pointed down the left-hand tunnel. Issa had said that way led west toward the Crucible; she’d used it to sneak into the Keeper’s Temple to undergo her testing to become a Keeper’s Blade.

  They raced down the darkened corridor, with only the flickering lamplight to guide them. Evren had no idea what lay ahead at the end of the tunnel. All that mattered was that they got Issa out safe.

  The underground passage ended in a wooden door, which slid silently to one side rather than opening inward. Evren stepped out into what appeared to be a cell. Straw-covered floors, chain rings anchored into the stone walls, metal bars—yes, definitely a cell.

  He slipped toward the open cell door, but backed quickly into the shadows as he heard the low grating sound echoing through the stone chamber beyond. Gut clenching, he peered cautiously out of the open door. Close to twenty corpse-like figures shuffled down a tunnel toward open sky and sunlight.

  Evren turned back toward Hykos to discuss some semblance of plan for getting around or past the Stumblers, only to find the Archateros had drawn his huge flammard. With a growl, Hykos charged through the door and barreled toward the creatures, seeming heedless of his injured leg.

  Damn it! Cursing the impetuous Archateros, Evren drew his jambiyas and raced down the tunnel after Hykos.

  A wall of steel and death slammed into the rearmost Stumblers with bone-shattering force. Hykos’ sword carved through three creatures, and they fell in a spray of blood, rags, and torn flesh. Hacking and slashing, his flammard a blur in the darkness, Hykos chopped through the slow-moving monstrosities with the gruesome ease of a butcher slicing a prime cut of meat. The twenty Stumblers that stood between him and the daylight beyond died within the space of ten heartbeats.

  Evren fought in Hykos’ shadow,
his daggers thrusting and stabbing, finishing off the few creatures that survived the Archateros’ whirling sword. He couldn’t lop off limbs like Hykos’ huge flammards, so he aimed for the Stumblers’ vulnerable bits: hamstrings, joints, eyes, throats, groins, anything that would bring them down before they could tear him to shreds. The hideous things clawed weakly at him, their long, sharp fingernails scratching at his legs and boots. Milky white eyes stared up at him, sore-covered flesh sagging around gaping mouths. The horrible rasping, rattling sound of the creatures echoed in the tunnel until Hykos’ sword or Evren’s daggers silenced them.

  With a roar, Hykos bull-rushed the last of the creatures and burst out of the tunnel into the Crucible. Evren raced out on the Blade’s heels. The sight that greeted him twisted his stomach in knots.

  Scores of the foul creatures thronged into the massive arena. Against the backdrop of golden sandstone walls, their pale, blue-spotted flesh and tattered remnants of clothing appeared all the more hideous. They truly were the living dead, a tide of monstrous evil that surged toward a lone figure battling in the center of the sands.

  Issa, clad in the armor of a Keeper’s Blade, fought the horde of monsters with breathtaking skill. Blood splattered her face and stained her metal gauntlets and vambraces a deep crimson, yet her movements were controlled, each strike precise. She chopped through outstretched arms, talon-tipped fingers, and ragged, filthy bodies with the force of a hurricane through a wheat field.

  Yet, no matter how many she brought down, the tide of death never slowed. More and more emerged from the openings in the arena, and scores grew to hundreds.

  Still Issa fought on, her face set in a bloody, grim mask of stone, her sword never wavering. Black steel sang a song of death and determination. Crimson filled the air and stained the sands a grisly ochre beneath her feet.

  Tightening his grip on his daggers, Evren threw himself into the throng of Stumblers. He and Hykos had come to save Issa. They’d fight their way out of this together.

  Against the three of them, a horde of shambling abominations stood no chance at all.

  Chapter Three

  “Open the millennia-old Vault of Ancients and steal Shalandra’s most treasured relics.” A cocky grin broadened Kodyn’s face. “How hard could it be?”

  Briana exchanged a glance with Hailen. “With what we’ve found in my father’s journal, we might be able to figure out how.” She looked at the five stone artifacts sitting on the table. “My father was convinced those were crucial to opening the vault, though his notes don’t contain specifics. If Hailen and I could just get close enough to see the vault for ourselves, we might have a chance. But that’ll be the tricky part.”

  “Tricky?” Kodyn cocked an eyebrow. “Lady Callista walked us right up to it the other night. I doubt she’d mind if we took another little stroll around there.”

  “Sure, but the moment you start to open it, the Indomitables are going to be all over you.” Hailen’s face scrunched up in contemplation. “You’re going to have a hard time talking your way out of that one.”

  Kodyn’s grin faltered. “Right. That might be a problem.” He’d come to Shalandra to steal the Crown of the Pharus, a relic believed to be handed down from Hallar, the city’s founder. Though Briana, Arch-Guardian Suroth, and the Black Widow had accepted his mission without complaint—even going so far as to aid him in his quest—something told him the Lady of Blades and Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres might not be as amenable.

  “That wasn’t what I was talking about, though,” Briana said.

  The solemn tone in her voice made Kodyn look up. The girl’s face had darkened, a shadow filling her eyes.

  “Remember where we are.” Briana gestured at the bare stone walls and sparse furnishings of her lightless room—a room within the Temple of Whispers. “And what we had to do to get here.”

  Understanding dawned, and Kodyn’s gut tightened. Briana had sought sanctuary from the Secret Keepers that had served her father before his death. In exchange for protection, she had given up the secret of Hailen’s Melechha blood and his ability to control the Serenii artifacts. She’d also promised to share whatever she uncovered in her father’s journal—secrets only she could decipher. The Secret Keepers wouldn’t simply let her walk out the front door. She, and Hailen with her, were prisoners here in all but name.

  Kodyn’s fists clenched. “We’ll explain it to Ennolar, make sure he understands what’s at stake here. He’s already seen what the Iron Warlord is willing to do, the lengths he’ll go in order to get what he wants. Once he knows what Tethum is truly after, he’ll have to accept that this is the best plan.”

  Tethum, the man in the metal mask who called himself the Iron Warlord, had been the one fomenting chaos in Shalandra. Through his stooge Groebus, he had sent the Gatherers to assassinate the Pharus, then to kill Briana to get his hands on Suroth’s journal and artifacts. He’d ordered Hallar’s Warriors to stockpile food and supplies in anticipation of the riots they also stirred up. Kodyn wouldn’t be surprised if he had somehow orchestrated the murders of the Keeper’s Blade and Indomitables, as well as the conviction and execution of Aterallis, the one the people called “Child of Gold, Child of Secrets, Child of Spirits” and “Hallar Reborn”, knowing that it would incite the lower castes to revolt.

  The Iron Warlord was behind so much of the pain and suffering plaguing the city. He’d spread disease, the Azure Rot, by poisoning the water supply. If he was willing to kill thousands of Mahjuri, Kabili, and Earaqi, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine he’d happily bring on the prophesized “Final Destruction”.

  Only Kodyn and his friends knew the truth behind everything that had happened. They’d fought to bring down the Keeper’s Council, to stop the Gatherers, to prevent the Ybrazhe Syndicate and Hallar’s Warriors from stirring up the people. They had foiled the plans of the Iron Warlord and the Keeper’s Council time and again. Once more, they would have to stand up and take action to save Shalandra.

  But for that to happen, they needed Briana and Hailen. The two of them had unlocked the secrets to the Vault of Ancients and the Tomb of Hallar. They alone could read the Serenii runes, so they would be the only ones who would be able to open the door.

  “Gather everything,” Kodyn told them. “Your father’s journal, the artifacts, whatever you were working on for Aisha. Get ready to go. I’m going to speak to Ennolar and the Guardians, explain to them what’s at stake here. If they’re not willing to listen to reason, we’re going to have to be ready to make a run for it.”

  “A run?” Briana’s eyebrows shot up. “Kodyn, we’re in the Temple of Whispers! Where would we go?”

  “Into the Serenii tunnels.” Kodyn’s jaw clenched. “Even if we have to run all the way to the palace, we’re getting out of here.” He looked between the two of them. “We’ve got no other choice. If the Iron Warlord somehow manages to get the vault open and access whatever Hallar hid in his tomb, he’ll bring on whatever the bloody hell the ‘Final Destruction’ is. I’m not willing to risk that, but I will risk fighting a few Secret Kee—”

  His words cut off as the door to the room slid open and three brown-robed Secret Keepers hurried into the room. Kodyn recognized one, the priest from his skirmish with Hallar’s Warriors a few hours earlier.

  “Come,” the man said, his hands moving in the Secret Keeper’s silent hand language. “We need to get the three of you deeper into the temple.”

  Kodyn narrowed his eyes. Poorly-concealed anxiety darkened the man’s expression, and he radiated an almost desperate insistence.

  “What’s going on?” Briana spoke before he could, her tone demanding. “Why are you moving us?”

  “It’s not safe here.” The man’s fingers flashed so fast Kodyn struggled to keep up. “The Arch-Guardian insists that you are to accompany me.”

  “Where is the Arch-Guardian?” Kodyn folded his arms over his chest. “We need to speak to him at once. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  Irritation
flitted across the man’s face. “Accompany me, and I will take you to Ennolar. He will explain.”

  Kodyn exchanged a glance with Briana and Hailen. They seemed equally uncertain and curious at the strange urgency and unease from the usually-stoic Secret Keepers. Shrugging, the three of them set about packing up the few items Briana and Hailen had in the sparse room.

  Arch-Guardian Suroth’s leather-bound journal and the five Serenii artifacts went into the cloth sack Hailen had used to smuggle them out of the Keeper’s Tier. Briana left the pestle and mortar, the glass beakers, and all of the dried roots, herbs, and flowers strewn across the table. All she took was a single glass vial filled with a mud-colored liquid, which she slipped into her pocket. Kodyn shot her a curious glance, but Briana shook her head, as if to say, “Not now.”

  “Ready.” Briana turned to the Secret Keeper. “Take us to Ennolar.”

  The Secret Keeper bowed and led them at a hurried shuffle down the bare stone corridors. The passage ended at another doorway, which opened into a broad, high-vaulted room lined floor to ceiling with iron and wooden shelves. Glass jars filled with thousands of plant, insect, and animal samples sat on the shelves. The flora and fauna within seemed to be frozen in time, as fresh and colorful as the day they had been bottled, yet immobilized inside their transparent prison.

  Kodyn’s eyes roamed across the shelves, and his curiosity only grew as he spotted creatures he’d never seen before. An odd-looking insect that resembled a twig. A butterfly with wings of vivid scarlet and yellow, with razor-sharp fangs. Something that looked like a six-legged honey badger, yet had the coloring of a skunk and the tail of a hare. A flower so perfectly white it seemed to glow with its own inner luminescence. Thousands upon thousands of specimens known and unknown, sitting in perfect silence and stillness, preserved for eternity in those glass jars.