She thrust her right hand forward, and a surge of energy burst from her palm. Five tendrils of blue-white lightning crackled from her fingertips and leapt the short distance toward the nearest Stumbler. Energy sizzled through the creature with enough force to hurl it backward. Even as the Stumbler flew through the air, the sparks of the Kish’aa leapt to the next monster, and the next, and the next. In the space of a single heartbeat, the lightning blew back the creatures cresting the wall for ten paces to her right and left. The rasping, gurgling cries of the Stumblers diminished as the power of the spirits tore through their emaciated bodies. The foul stench of charred flesh, cloth, and hair filled the air around her.
Aisha leaned over the wall and stared down at the mound of struggling, squirming, gurgling creatures. So many Stumblers packed tight together. A fierce grin split her lips as she summoned more of the Kish’aa to her hands.
Cleanse your city of their foul taint!
Scores of spirits burst from her fingers, a barrage of blue-white sparks that hurtled through the air and crashed into the Stumblers. The energy tore through the pile of bodies in a brilliant burst of light. The stink of burning flesh and charred cloth thickened the air, constricting Aisha’s throat. The mound of Stumblers writhed, twitched, and jerked as the power of the Kish’aa burned them from the inside out. The high-piled heap collapsed, the creatures falling away from the wall, their rasping calls silenced by the power of the spirits.
Aisha fell forward, leaning on the wall for support. Using so many spirits had not only drained the Dy’nashia pendant; it left her feeling drained as well. Lead seemed to fill her limbs, and she found her legs struggled to stay upright. It was worth it to be rid of the Stumblers, but if she had to do it again—
Horror froze the breath in her lungs. The pile at the base of the wall squirmed, Stumblers clawing their way free of the corpses heaped atop them. Not all of the Stumblers in the pile had died. Worse, more of the creatures shambled away from the assault on the gate to clamber atop their comrades.
All her effort had only bought them a few minutes.
“Keeper’s teeth!” A curse came from Aisha’s right. She looked to find Tannard staring at her, his eyes narrowed in shock and suspicion. “So you really did do that, back at the South Gate!”
Aisha was too tired to deny, too spent to care how he’d react. She nodded. There was no hiding her abilities any longer.
“Bloody handy to have in a fight, I say.” Tannard shot her a nod. “Keep that up, and we might have a fart’s chance in a hurricane of holding them off long enough for reinforcements to arrive.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
Aisha reached for the spirits within her pendant, but found the stone empty, inert. That last surge of power had drained the last of the Kish’aa absorbed during her battle with Imbuka.
The legend of the Stumblers flashed through her mind. Briana had told her Stumblers were the living dead, fallen spirits bonded to their corpses through ancient black magics. If that was true, if the Stumblers truly had died, they could serve Aisha’s will.
Imbuka had severed the tethers binding the spirits of the Blades’ victims to their swords. If she could do that with the Stumblers, she’d have all the power she needed to defeat the creatures. Hells, she might even be able to free them all from their nightmare un-death, send their spirits on to Pharadesi and restore their bodies to peaceful rest.
She stretched out a hand toward the creatures, but a frown furrowed her brow. Where were the ghostly figures, the blue-white forms of the dead hovering above the bodies? Where were the Kish’aa?
Confusion set her mind racing. But the legends said…
Realization slammed into her with the force of a runaway wagon. She knew what had felt wrong from the first moment she laid eyes on the Stumblers.
She sucked in a breath and the words burst from her lips “They’re not truly dead!”
Chapter Nine
The sight of the Keeper’s Council in chains numbered among the most satisfying things Issa had seen in her seventeen years of life. Scuffed, grime-covered steel really did wonders to spoil the opulence of their black and gold robes. Even Councilor Madani’s arrogant demeanor had shattered the moment the Keeper’s Blades snapped the shackles around his wrist.
Now, the five Councilors sat around the same broad table they had cowered behind the night of the Gatherer attack on the palace, the night Issa had saved Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres’ life. Perhaps simply being in the room where they'd come a heartbeat from death subdued their typical arrogance.
Issa straightened as the door opened and Lady Callista entered the room, with Invictus Dyrkton at her back. Though the Lady of Blades’ expression revealed nothing outwardly, Issa recognized the spark of delight that shone in her eyes.
Lady Callista marched to the head of the table and settled into a comfortable stance, strong arms folded across her armored chest. She said nothing, simply fixed a stern gaze on the rotund priests.
The threat to his life and his current predicament had cowed Madani, but it seemed he hadn’t reached the limits of his self-importance. He drew himself up as tall as he could manage while remaining seated. “Callista, I don’t know what your novice thinks she’s doing, but—”
“Shut your mouth, Madani,” Lady Callista snarled, “for once in your miserable life. Listen to what I have to say, then decide how you want to speak.”
The greying, hook-nosed priest’s face darkened. “Callista—”
“Shut it!” Lady Callista slammed a gauntleted fist on the table, cracking the wood. Madani and the other Councilors recoiled from the fury in her eyes. “For twenty years, I’ve waited for this day. The day when you finally overextend your reach and trip up. Now that we’re here, I want nothing more than to see each and every one of your heads decorating a spike in Murder Square. It’s only by the grace of the Pharus that you still live. So still your vile tongue until I’m finished.”
Madani purpled, outrage flitting across his pudgy face, yet wisely he chose to hold his peace.
Silence hung thick in the room. Lady Callista’s eyes roamed the faces of the men arrayed before her. The humor had fled her eyes; only wrath and scorn blazed there now.
“I know of your involvement with Councilor Angrak and the skimming from the shalanite mines.” Her voice held a cold, hard edge that made Tannard seem warm and cuddly by comparison. “And of your compact with the Ybrazhe Syndicate. Blackfinger himself sits rotting in the Pharus’ dungeons, and he was more than eager to give me everything I need to incriminate you of your treason.”
“Before what governing body?” Natoris sneered. He, unlike Madani, seemed disinclined to hold his tongue. “You have no authority to make such decisions, Callista. We are the rulers of Shalandra, chosen of the Long Keeper.”
“Spare me the diatribe, Natoris,” Lady Callista snorted. “You may have wrested the power from Mordus Khemnu Nephelcheres, but by the laws of Shalandra, Amhoset Nephelcheres is still the final word of judgement in the city. And, in case you’d forgotten, I and the Elders of the Blade are fully within our power to assume control of Shalandra.”
“In times of war!” protested Natoris.
“Look around, you fool.” Lady Callista shook her head. “We are at war. With ourselves. With the very people you swore to serve, to protect, to guide in the Long Keeper’s truth and wisdom. People that you and your Syndicate thugs stirred into revolt, all to turn against the Pharus.”
“You cannot—”
“Prove it?” Lady Callista cut him off with a slash of her hand. “As if Blackfinger’s word was not testimony enough, we also have captured one of your own, Necroseti Turwar.” Her lip curled up into a snarl. “He proved stubborn at first, but days without food and water will break even the hardest of men. He, too, decried your role in recent events. From your alliance with the Ybrazhe Syndicate to your plot to unleash the Azure Rot on the people of the Slave’s Tier and Cultivator’s Tier.”
The statement shock
ed Issa. She’d seen the people suffering, starving, their bodies wasted away by the foul blue blisters. And the Keeper’s Council had been behind it all?
“My Blades have spent the last months digging into every dark corner in Shalandra, turning over every stone.” Lady Callista’s eyes narrowed. “Did you truly believe you could hide your misdeeds forever? The truth of what the Gatherers, your former priests, had in store for my city?”
Issa’s mind flashed back to a conversation she’d overheard her first day as a Keeper’s Blade. One of the senior Blades had spoken of Tannard leading a “special crew of killers hunting down the Gatherers”. It had been dismissed as simply a rumor, yet it made sense that Lady Callista would set the cold-hearted Invictus to hunting down the cultists, set him against the Keeper’s Council in secret.
“No!” The protest came from Madani, and it echoed with the same panic that filled his eyes. “We had nothing to do with the Gatherers!”
“You expect me to believe that?” growled Lady Callista.
“They were Purged,” Madani insisted. “Banished from our holy order for their misguided belief in the Final Destruction.” He glanced at the others for confirmation. The other four Councilors raised their voices in protest.
When the clamor died down, Madani continued, his voice ringing with a note of fanatical zeal. “We simply intended to bring order and devotion to Shalandra, to restore our city to rightful worship of the Long Keeper. Kytos and his group of madmen planned to take things too far. We could not let them usher in the destruction of Shalandra, so we exiled them, blocked all access to the temple’s resources.”
“And in doing so,” Lady Callista spat, “you created a new enemy, one that even you could not defeat.”
Issa’s eyes widened a fraction. The Lady of Blades had known the Gatherers weren’t connected to the Necroseti, yet by accusing them of being responsible for the cultists, she’d deceived them into admitting to the other crimes of which they stood accused.
Madani seemed to realize the truth as well. He swallowed, his face going a shade paler, sweat trickling down his brow. Yet he refused to back down. “The day I stand judgement before the Long Keeper, I am confident that he will judge my actions as just. I have dedicated my life to serving him, to bringing the people to worship of the god of death the best way I know how.”
“By killing your own people?” Lady Callista snarled.
“There is no life without death.” Madani’s expression settled into the familiar priestly, paternal one that twisted Issa’s stomach. “For the city to be blessed by the Long Keeper’s Face of Joy, there is no escaping the Faces of Change and Sorrow. The Azure Rot was the Keeper’s tool, a scourge to the wicked and a warning to the righteous. The suffering endured by our people is the hand of the Long Keeper, used to guide them down the path of piety.”
Issa clenched her jaw. They hide behind the Long Keeper? Anger flared bright and hot in her gut, churning like Dalmisa’s lava pits.
“This city has fallen into sin,” Madani drove on, his rotund face set in a stubborn frown. “A den of vice and iniquity, where men and women have forgotten who rules in this life and the next. We only acted out of a desire to restore godliness to Shalandra.” His eyes dropped to the table, his voice falling quiet. “It simply got out of our control. We intended to stir up protest, to force the Pharus’ hand. But everything—the riots, the deaths, now this strange plague of monsters—we could never have foreseen it.”
“Consider it the price you pay for taking the Long Keeper’s justice into your own hands,” Lady Callista growled. “You are the Keeper’s servants on Einan. Servants, chosen to serve, not to rule. A mistake that will soon be amended.”
Five faces turned toward her, eyes flying wide.
“You cannot have a Shalandra without the voice of the Long Keeper!” Councilor Madani’s shrill voice echoed loud in the room. “Without his guidance, the city will return to godlessness and evil.”
“On that, we can agree.” Lady Callista nodded. “The Pharus has no intention of removing the Keeper’s Priests. As to the role you will play in the future of Shalandra, however, that is up to the Pharus to decide.”
The Councilors raised their voices in protest, but Lady Callista ignored them, turned to the nearest Keeper’s Blades. “Take them to the Pharus’ dungeons.”
The black-armored warriors saluted. “Yes, Proxenos.”
“Please, Lady Callista—” Madani began.
Lady Callista rounded on them, eyes blazing. “The time for words is over. Now, all you can do is pray to the god you claim to serve, Priests.” She snarled the word. “Perhaps the Face of Mercy will look kindly on you. But when the Pharus decides your fates, it will be the Faces of Justice and Vengeance that he seeks for advice.”
Issa struggled to hide her smile as she watched the ashen-faced Councilors led away.
Invictus Dyrkton bowed to Lady Callista. “Allow me to escort them personally to their new home.”
Lady Callista nodded, and the Elder hurried out after his men.
Only Issa remained, standing by the door, with Hykos opposite her and Lady Callista standing before the table. The Lady of Blades stood in silence, her arms folded across her armored chest, a solemn expression on her face. Yet, as the door closed behind the departing Elder, she let out a long breath and leaned on the table, closing her eyes.
“It is over.” She spoke in a quiet voice, solemn yet triumphant. “We have won.”
Now Issa allowed a grin to spread on her lips, and Hykos returned her smile. After so much disaster and suffering, it felt good to win a battle.
“But Shalandra’s troubles are not yet passed.” Lady Callista lifted her head, and worry sparkled in her eyes. “This new enemy at our gates will prove far more difficult to defeat. Our forces are scattered, our battle lines stretched thin. The fight to come will not be an easy one, even with the Council out of the way.”
“We will triumph, Proxenos.” Hykos’ voice rang with a confidence Issa didn’t quite feel. She had seen the hordes of Stumblers, had come within a heartbeat of succumbing to the creatures’ grasping talons and snapping jaws. Lady Callista was right; this new enemy would be the greatest threat they had yet faced.
Lady Callista smiled. “As always, your optimism is welcomed, Archateros. As is your courage.” Her gaze darted to Issa. “It is good to have you with us once more, Prototopoi.”
Suddenly, everything came crashing down on Issa. The threat of the Keeper’s Council had passed. They were safe within the palace walls. Now, she stood before Lady Callista. Her mother. A multitude of questions assailed her, so many that her head spun and her mouth refused to form words. She found herself suddenly tongue-tied. The truth looked her in the face and she could not summon the strength to speak.
“Archateros,” Lady Callista was speaking, though it seemed her words came from a vast distance, “ask Evren to step in here, if you will.”
Issa barely heard the door open and close. She seemed frozen in time and space, unable to tear her eyes from Lady Callista.
My mother. The thought echoed in her mind with shattering force. A name and face to put to the nameless, faceless figure she’d dreamed of so many times in her life.
“Mother!” The word burst from Issa’s lips with a force beyond her control. The numbness shattered and Issa found she could breathe again, could feel the fires coursing through her limbs.
Lady Callista, however, seemed frozen in shock. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide, gaze fixed on Issa.
Heat rose to Issa’s cheeks. She hadn’t intended to say anything, yet the fires within her had burned too hot for her to ignore any longer. She had so many questions that only the woman before her could answer.
“What did you say?” Lady Callista asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“You…” Issa croaked, her throat suddenly dry. She swallowed hard and forced the words to come out. “Are…my mother.”
If she’d had any doubt, they vanished in th
at moment. The sudden pallor and the look of utter shock on the Lady of Blades’ face confirmed the truth.
The door opened and closed, and Hykos appeared with Evren on his heels. Issa couldn’t tear her eyes from Lady Callista. She was lost in this impossible, wonderful, terrible moment. Everything else faded until only she and the Lady of Blades remained.
“One minute.” Lady Callista spoke to Evren and Hykos in a quiet voice, yet her eyes never left Issa. “I must speak to Issa. Alone.”
Hykos said something Issa didn’t hear, and the door opened and closed again.
Issa tried to speak, but no words came out. She had dreamed about this moment her entire life yet had never truly believed would come true. Now that she was here, she could think of nothing to say.
What do you say to the woman who abandoned you?
Chapter Ten
Horror turned Kodyn’s blood to ice. Stumblers!
Heart hammering, he leapt backward, out of reach of the creature’s grasping hands, and nearly stumbled over the Secret Keeper behind him.
“Back!” His words came out in a croak, fear parching his throat. He swallowed and shouted again, loud enough to set the stone walls ringing. “Back into the temple!”
Desenne hesitated an instant, until she caught sight of the monstrosity lurching up the tunnel behind Kodyn. Immediately, she whirled in the opposite direction, her fingers flashing. In an instant, the Secret Keepers were a blur of motion racing back the way they’d come.
Kodyn raced close on their heels, his mind racing. How the hell did they get into the tunnels? The creatures had been locked away in Groebus’ underground laboratory. Had they escaped in the fire he’d started? No, that didn’t seem possible. There were far too many of the foul things outside the temple for them all to have come from just that one room.
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