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Heirs of Destiny Box Set

Page 172

by Andy Peloquin


  “We need to get there.” He thrust a finger toward the roof of the bizarrely-patterned temple. “We’d need a very powerful crossbow, something with enough force to drive a bolt deep into the stone. Something solid to use as an anchor for a rope. From there, we’d just slide across, land on the roof, and climb down onto the streets beyond.” He turned to Ennolar. “Please tell me you’ve got something that can make that shot.”

  Ennolar’s face darkened. “Ours is a house of knowledge and research, not of war.”

  Kodyn racked his brain. Without a crossbow like Handsome’s, there’s no way we can—

  “What’s in the Thunderstrikers?” Hailen’s voice came from beside Kodyn. “What’s causing them to explode like that?”

  All eyes turned to the young boy. “A marvelous black powder,” Ennolar signed, “one which combusts when exposed to a spark. The creation of the ancient Serenii, believed lost to time, recently discovered by our brethren in Odaron.”

  Hailen’s brow furrowed.

  “What are you thinking, Hailen?” Briana asked.

  After a moment of contemplation, Hailen looked up at the Secret Keepers. “What if there was a way that we could control the explosion. Direct it, maybe? Instead of having it make a big explosion—” He mimed it with his hands. “—we do a smaller, channeled one?” His brow furrowed. “When I was studying with the Cambionari, I read something about a weapon called a Fire Lance, something created during the time of the Serenii. It was like a long, thin pipe made of bamboo or metal that could actually fire short lances really, really far.”

  “Fire Lance?” Ennolar cocked an eyebrow. A strange expression twisted his face, and he turned to Thevoris. “You think that could be what our brothers spoke of when referring to ‘besiegers’?”

  “I could bring it.” Excitement sparkled in the bearded priest’s eyes.

  “Go!” Ennolar’s fingers moved, a new urgency in his hand signals. Thevoris rushed toward the door and disappeared down the stairway.

  Kodyn shot the Arch-Guardian a curious glance. “Besiegers?”

  “Another gift from our brothers in Odaron,” Ennolar signed. “A tool intended to be used in the Pharus’ shalanite mines to speed up the extraction of the ore. But they spoke of crafting them into weapons far more powerful than crossbows, weapons powered by this explosive powder, capable of hurling a projectile over the tallest city walls. Knowing of Tianath’s abilities with minerals, they sent a few of their rudimentary besiegers along with samples of the powder to test.”

  A faint hope dawned in Kodyn’s chest. He had no idea if Hailen’s idea could work, but it was better than hoping for a miracle or waiting for the Stumblers to overwhelm the defenses below.

  Thevoris returned a few moments later carrying a metal pipe. Made of brass, it was thicker than Kodyn’s largest finger and not quite as long as his forearm, with a hollow opening at one end and a steel cap at the other.

  Hailen hurried over to the pipe. “Yes, the hollow end there, that could work!” His voice rose, his expression growing eager and curious. “With the black powder at the base of the pipe, you could insert some sort of extra-long crossbow bolt into it, tie a rope to the head, and the explosion in the pipe could send the bolt hurtling across to drive it into the rock.”

  Kodyn glanced at Ennolar. The Arch-Guardian was staring at Hailen, a look of astonishment on his round face. He seemed surprised that the young boy could have come up with something so inventive.

  “Oh.” Hailen’s face fell.

  “What?” Kodyn asked, his tiny hopes suddenly dashed by the despondency in the boy’s eyes.

  “If we get a bolt in there,” Hailen said, gesturing to the pipe, “there’s no way for us to light the powder. We could set the fletching on fire, but it would set off the powder—”

  “My Odarian brothers have already seen to that problem,” Thevoris signed one-handed. “The capped end is made of a special metal that conducts the heat of a firestriker to the powder, enough that it can trigger its combustive properties.”

  Kodyn struggled to understand the concept. The words were a tad beyond his realm of expertise.

  Briana must have seen his look of confusion, because she shot him a smile and explained, “It’ll set off the powder and cause the explosion.”

  “Yes!” Kodyn’s heart leapt. This might just work.

  “What are the chances you’ve got crossbow bolts we could use?” He asked Ennolar.

  “One of the militants that broke into the temple to attack Briana was carrying a crossbow,” Uryan signed. “His quiver was dumped into the storehouse with the rest of their weapons.”

  Thevoris turned to reveal a quiver with six crossbow bolts slung over his shoulder. “I have them here,” he signed.

  Kodyn leapt toward the Secret Keeper and pulled off the quiver. Three of the six bolts were broad-headed, but the other three were bodkin points, the sort used to punch through the heavy armor of knights. All of them had iron shafts rather than the standard wood—the added heft meant they’d require more power to fire, but they’d stand up to the heat produced by the exploding powder.

  “Three bolts,” he said, holding up the missiles. “Three chances to make it work. Now we just need some rope.”

  “It is on its way,” Thevoris signed. “I anticipated the demand and gave an order for Lunus to…ah, here he is.”

  Another Secret Keeper, one of the guards from the front door, appeared in the stairway, carrying four bundles that Kodyn recognized as alchemically-treated rope similar to that used by the Night Guild. As light as yarn but strong enough to hold a grown man, it had a special alchemical coating that protected it from heat, cold, friction, and fraying—and, he hoped, the heat spit out from the brass tube as the black powder exploded.

  “Perfect!” Kodyn’s voice rose to an excited shout. He winced, remembering the monstrosities filling the street below, and dropped his voice to a more moderate volume. “Let’s see if this works.”

  He set about helping Lunus unbundling two coils of rope—they’d need to be free to unravel as the bolt hurtled across the Artificer’s Courseway—and tied one end of each to a crossbow bolt. Thevoris, meanwhile, had produced two small sachets from the pockets of his dark brown robes. Ripping one open, he emptied its contents into the hollow end of the pipe.

  “Here.” Kodyn held out the first of the crossbow bolts to Thevoris. “We need it anchored into the Temple of Prosperity, as close to the far edge as possible.”

  Nodding, the dark-bearded Guardian took the bolt and inserted it fletching side-first into the hollow pipe. The shaft was two fingers longer than the tube but slightly thinner, and it slid in without difficulty. The rope’s knot nestled just beneath the bodkin point.

  Thevoris drew in a breath, yet it was excitement that brightened his face, not hesitation. Uryan handed him a firestriker.

  “Step back,” Uryan signed. “And cover your ears.”

  Kodyn, Briana, and Hailen moved a few steps back, pressing their hands over their ears. Excitement hummed within Kodyn as Thevoris held the firestriker to the capped end of the pipe, which he held in a firm one-handed grip. The hollow end was pointed directly toward the roof of the Temple of Prosperity, rather than higher, as an archer or crossbowman would. It seemed the power of this strange black powder could—

  BOOM!

  The concussive blast and the sound of the explosion set Kodyn’s head ringing. Thevoris was hurled backward and crashed to the ground, and the metal pipe flew from his hands to clatter on the rooftop.

  Kodyn’s eyes snapped toward the speeding crossbow bolt. Stripped of its fletching, it was all but impossible to aim. It flew low, too low, and slammed into the bizarrely patterned façade of the Temple of Prosperity. He almost cursed their rotten luck, but caught himself. The bolt had punched deep into the stone, and the Secret Keeper, Lunus, remained with his foot planted firmly on the other end.

  “Test that rope,” he said to Lunus. “See how firmly it’s anchored.”
/>   The Secret Keeper bent, retrieved the rope, and pulled it taut. He tugged on it gently, then harder when it showed no sign of pulling free. Kodyn squinted across the length of the rope toward the wall. He could see only half of the crossbow bolt’s metallic shaft; the explosive powder of the Fire Lance had driven it a hand’s width into the stone.

  “Yes!” He pumped his fist in the air and laughter bubbled from his chest. “It works!” He rounded on Hailen. “You’re a bloody genius!”

  Hailen blushed, but pride glowed in his smile.

  “Don’t celebrate yet,” Ennolar signed. “We don’t yet have our way of escape.” He reached a hand to help Thevoris stand, but the bearded Guardian shook his head.

  “Look.” Even the simple movement caused him to wince. When he turned up his palms, the flesh had been burned to blistering.

  “Damn!” Hailen frowned. “The heat must have made the metal so hot it burned him.”

  Thevoris nodded and stood slowly, careful not to rest his hands on the ground. Uryan hurried over, pulling a thin strip of cloth from her pouch, and set about binding his hands.

  The bindings! Kodyn watched the stern-faced Secret Keeper wrapping the cloths around Thevoris’ burns. His mind flashed back to the hours he’d spent working with Jarl and the Pathfinders, crafting iron and steel anchors to use for the bridges and rope ladders of the Hawk’s Highway. Smiths used thick leather gloves to protect their hands from the heated metal.

  “We wrap the pipe with something thick!” He turned to Ennolar. “A cloak, leather, anything that doesn’t get hot with the metal.”

  “Of course.” Briana nodded. “It only needs to stop the sudden transfer of heat, so it shouldn’t catch fire.”

  Lunus shrugged out of his Secret Keeper’s stole and proffered it. With a grin and a nod of thanks, Kodyn took the thick fabric vestment and wrapped it around the pipe where Thevoris had held it. He had no idea if it would work, but he had to give it a try.

  “Allow me,” Ennolar signed one-handed, reaching the other toward the metal pipe.

  “I think this is a two-person job,” Kodyn told him. “When Thevoris touched the spark to the pipe, it kind of jerked in his hand, and that’s what sent the bolt low.”

  Ennolar frowned, but nodded. “There may be truth in that.”

  Kodyn turned the pipe hollow-side up. “Help me get it ready, and I’ll hold it while you touch the match to it.”

  “You hold it?” Ennolar cocked an eyebrow. “That is the property of the Temple of Whispers, and as such—”

  “Have you ever fired a crossbow?” Kodyn asked.

  Ennolar’s jaw muscles clenched. After a long moment, he shook his head.

  “Then let me do it.” Kodyn met the Arch-Guardian’s gaze without hesitation. “There’s an art to loosing a bow, both longbow and crossbow.” He’d only had rudimentary training with the former, but every Hawk learned their way around crossbows. It was an important part of knowing how to evade a bolt fired by the Duke’s Arbitors, just in case.

  Anger flashed in Ennolar’s eyes, but it seemed logic held more sway with Secret Keepers than average men. “So be it,” he signed.

  Tearing open the sachet, Ennolar emptied the black powder into the hollow end of the pipe. Kodyn recoiled from the stench.

  He grimaced. “What the bloody hell is in that?”

  “Sulfur, among other things.” Ennolar waved the sachet in front of his face. “Smell again, and maybe you’ll figure out the rest.”

  Kodyn glared. “Really, playing around now? We’re kind of in the middle of real trouble!”

  Ennolar’s mocking grin only wilted slightly as he returned his attention to the task at hand. Hailen held out the second bolt with the knotted rope, and Ennolar slid it into the end until it, too, nestled against the powder at the base.

  Checking the cloth wrappings one more time, Kodyn adjusted his grip and planted his feet in anticipation of the explosion. Thevoris might not have been ready for it, but anything strong enough to knock the bearded Secret Keeper back with such force was definitely something to be wary of.

  He adjusted his aim—pointing the tip of the bolt high enough that he hoped it would arc through the air before slamming into the rooftop of the Temple of Prosperity, though without the fletching, he couldn’t be certain of his aim—then nodded to Ennolar. “Do it.”

  The Arch-Guardian touched the firestriker to the capped end of the tube, and Kodyn drew in a deep breath, bracing himself.

  Boom!

  The resulting explosion sent Kodyn staggering backward, but he was ready for it and managed to catch himself from falling. He hissed as a burst of heat scorched his palms even through the cloth. Yet, when he looked, the skin was red and tender, but not blistered.

  His hope died a moment later as he caught sight of the bolt he’d fired. His aim had been too high, the force of the explosive blast too strong. It had sent the bolt arcing over the Temple of Prosperity and into the alleys beyond. The rope had been ripped out from beneath Lunus’ feet.

  Kodyn sucked in a breath. “Damn it!” He turned back to the quiver. One arrow left.

  Lunus set about knotting the rope around the tip of the bolt, but when Kodyn turned back to Ennolar, the Arch-Guardian’s face had darkened.

  “What’s wrong now?” Kodyn asked.

  “Those were the only two sachets of black powder we had,” Ennolar signed.

  Kodyn’s heart sank. No! Without that powder, they had no way of anchoring the rope onto the Temple of Prosperity, which meant no way off the roof.

  “Use the Thunderstrikers.” Again, Hailen came to their rescue.

  “Of course!” Briana’s eyes widened. “It’s the same black powder, isn’t?”

  Ennolar nodded. “I believe so, but—”

  “No buts!” Kodyn drew a dagger and snatched one of the dark grey clay orbs from the hay-filled crate. “It’s our only hope.”

  He set about digging the point of the dagger into the clay.

  “Careful,” Briana urged. “Don’t move too fast, or you could strike a spark.”

  “Boom!” Hailen mimed an explosion.

  Kodyn shot the boy a withering look. “Thank you, I know what will happen.” He twisted the sharp tip of the dagger, twirling it about like a drill to bore a hole into the clay. His movements were slow, deliberate, very cautious to avoid doing anything to set off the Thunderstrikers.

  After a minute of working, the clay cracked in half. Grains of black powder trickled from the two halves, but Kodyn twisted the orb in his hands so the halves rested one atop each other to prevent a spill.

  “Here.” Hailen held out his shirt like an apron. “Pour it in here.”

  Kodyn carefully opened the Thunderstriker over Hailen’s shirt, and a small pile of the foul-smelling black powder formed in the hollow.

  “Now, use that to pack the Fire Lance.” Briana brought the pipe over and set the hollow end against Hailen’s shirt. The boy tilted up one side, letting the powder trickle into the barrel. They spilled only a few precious grains, yet Kodyn felt as if every one could spell the difference between success and failure. His heart hammered louder and faster with every passing second.

  Finally, the last of the grains had gone into the pipe and Ennolar inserted the third and final bodkin-tipped bolt. They didn’t remove the fletching from this one; though the heat would singe the feathers, he could only hope what remained would guide the bolt true.

  “Ready?” he signed. Worry sparkled in his eyes and sweat trickled down his brow. He, too, knew what would happen if this attempt failed.

  Kodyn braced his feet, adjusted his grip on the cloth-wrapped pipe, and aimed carefully. Drawing in a deep breath, he nodded to Ennolar without taking his eyes off the distant rooftop. “Do it.”

  The BOOM set his ears ringing and knocked him backward, but he caught himself, his eyes never leaving the crossbow bolt. He watched it hurtle through the air, a dark missile that carried all of their hopes of escape, of survival, of once agai
n seeing Aisha, Evren, Issa, family, and home.

  For a single instant, the bolt seemed to hover in the air, a black finger dark against the clear blue sky. Then it dropped. Right toward the roof of the temple. It buried into the stone with a loud crack, spraying shards of golden sandstone. The rope attached to the bolt snapped tight, sagged, then pulled tight once more.

  “Yes!” Kodyn’s triumphant shout rang out across the Temple District. “We did it!”

  He turned to find Lunus clinging to the last arm’s length of rope, a wild light of desperation in his eyes. Yet when the Secret Keeper pulled the line tight, it held fast. The bolt had anchored securely in the stone.

  Lunus set about securing one end of the rope to the banister of the stairway railing, pulling the line taut. Kodyn was about to go help the Secret Keeper when Hailen’s voice from behind caught his attention.

  “Uhh, Kodyn, they’re looking at us.”

  Kodyn turned to find Hailen staring down at the Stumbler horde below. He rushed to join the boy at the edge. Scores of pure white eyes had turned up toward them at Kodyn’s shout and the three explosions.

  Kodyn’s heart hammered. “Shite!”

  The creatures began to clamber atop each other, scrabbling at the walls with their razor-sharp claws, forming a pile of twisted bodies.

  “Bloody hell!” he breathed. “We need to get out of here, fast!”

  The pile had grown only halfway to the first floor, but at the rate the Stumblers clawed toward the top, they would reach the roof in a matter of minutes.

  He rounded on Ennolar. “You need to get your Secret Keepers onto this line and across to the far roof now.”

  Ennolar’s eyebrows rose. “And how, exactly, are we to do that?”

  “Easy.” He turned to Hailen. “Want to go first?”

  Hailen’s eyes sparkled. “Yes!”

  “Give me your belt,” Kodyn told him.

  Hailen hastened to remove his belt and thrust it toward Kodyn.

  “All you do is wrap the belt around the rope, grab the other end, and slide across.” He flung the belt over the rope, caught the buckle, and imitated the motion of sliding down the rope, catching himself before he went off the edge. “Just don’t let go until you get to the other side.”

 

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