Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  Then Aisha lowered her hand and the light in her eyes faded. Once again, her eyes turned to the deep brown, though a few flecks of that blue-white glow remained. The Stumblers stopped jerking and lay still. A thick, permeating silence hung thick in the gardens.

  She did that? A thousand questions slammed into Evren’s mind, but one echoed foremost. How?

  He’d heard all of the Hunter’s stories about the magic of the ancient Serenii, power said to be able to shape the world. But that was something only Hailen was supposed to access as a result of his Melechha blood. And yet, there was no denying that Aisha had done something. She had brought down scores of Stumblers without laying a finger on them.

  If that’s not magic, what in the bloody hell is it?

  Evren tensed as one of the Stumblers nearby stirred and lifted its head. He scrambled to his feet, dagger poised to drive into the creature’s skull.

  “Wait!” Aisha’s word cut the silence.

  Evren paused, jambiya upraised. Her tone echoed with a note of command, far more powerful than he’d ever heard from her before.

  “Don’t kill him,” Aisha said. “He’s still alive!”

  Confusion surged within Evren. What?

  Then the Stumbler turned toward him. A deep olive brown color had returned to its milk-white eyes, and genuine confusion filled the man’s face. “W-Where am I?” The thing that had been out for Evren’s blood mere moments earlier appeared bewildered. “What…happened?” His voice had a rasping, gurgling edge like dry leaves rustling across stone—the sound of a parched throat. Yet there was no mistake, it was no longer a creature, but a man.

  Keeper’s teeth!

  Wide-eyed, Evren looked around. Of the sixty Stumblers that Aisha had brought down, only three stirred. The rest remained motionless, their chests rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Like they’re …asleep!

  “What the bloody hell?” The words burst from his mouth. His eyes snapped up to Aisha. “What the bloody hell?” It was all he could think to say.

  “What he said,” Killian rumbled. The blacksmith wiped blood from his face and dripping beard, leaving a long, red smear down both cheeks and across his forehead.

  “They’re still alive,” Aisha told him. She had reached down to help up one of the creatures, a woman wearing a simple red Earaqi headband and a shredded kalasiris. “Contrary to what the legends of Shalandra say, these Stumblers aren’t truly dead. Or, they’re not really Stumblers. I think…” She hesitated, her brows furrowed. “I think they were created.”

  Evren’s jaw dropped. “Someone turned people into…this?” He gestured to the bodies strewn across the gardens.

  Aisha nodded. “It’s the only explanation that makes sense.” She looked as if she wanted to say more, but dared not, as if afraid of the truth. Or how he’d react to it. “I don’t know how, but I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that they’re not dead. If they were, I would…”

  “Would what?” Evren’s eyes narrowed. He remembered the way Briana had been cagey when speaking of her research into a plant she’d called Shadow Root, a project for Aisha. There was no doubt the Ghandian had a secret—he’d respected her privacy, knowing she’d tell him when it was time.

  And now is definitely the damned time!

  “What aren’t you telling me, Aisha? I know there’s something.” He gestured at the motionless Stumblers. “Does it have something to do with…whatever the fiery hell you just did here?”

  Aisha shot a hesitant glance at Killian, but the blacksmith’s face revealed nothing. His gaze alternated between Evren, Aisha, and the bodies strewn around the garden, as if expecting they’d get back up and renew their attack.

  After a long moment, Aisha seemed to reach a decision. She squared her strong shoulders and looked him straight in the eye. “You know how crazy your story of the Hunter and Kharna and the Devourer sounds to any normal person?”

  Evren nodded slowly. “Yes.” It had sounded crazy the first time he heard it, and it just got more insane the more he’d learned.

  “Well, what I have to tell you is going to sound just as insane.” Aisha drew in a deep breath. “But the truth is that the Umoyahlebe powers are as real as what Hailen can do. And I think they’re the key to stopping the Stumbler attack and saving Shalandra.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Kodyn’s heart hammered as he watched the horde of Stumblers shuffle past. That’s the third herd we’ve come across in the last ten minutes!

  They’d made slow progress on their trek from the Artisan’s Tier, reaching the Defender’s Tier in twice the time it would usually take. Their path was blocked by Stumblers lurching through the tunnels. Unlike the creatures assaulting the Temple of Whispers, these seemed to wander directionless. Somehow, Hallar’s Warriors had been able to direct them to the Mistress’ temple, but without their militant minders, the Stumblers were as aimless as grazing cattle.

  That didn’t make it any easier for Kodyn and his companions to reach their destination. The Stumblers seemed to have keen senses—smell, hearing, or sight, he couldn’t be certain—and had noticed them in the tunnel leading up to the Defender’s Tier. To Kodyn’s relief, Thevoris, Ryneos, Lunus, and Tianath had brought the small pack down with only a minor scuffle and minimal noise.

  But that had been one of many, a few errant Stumblers that had wandered down the passage they’d chosen to use. The deeper into the tunnels they went, the more creatures they found. Kodyn had little doubt the hordes would be clustered thick around the palace.

  Worry thrummed within him. What if the palace has fallen? Hallar’s Warriors could have opened the secret passages into the palace and flooded it with Stumblers. He could be headed toward chaos. Everyone could be dead, the city fallen.

  He pushed the worries aside. What other choice did he have? The key to stopping the Iron Warlord from unleashing the Final Destruction lay in the Tomb of Hallar, and to access it he needed to get into the Vault of Ancients. Even if he had to fight his way through a horde of the Stumblers, he’d take the risk. The future of not only Shalandra, but all of Einan, rested on his shoulders.

  His and those of his friends. Briana, the Shalandran girl he’d rescued from death cultists in Praamis, what seemed a lifetime ago. Hailen, the cheerful young boy with his magical Serenii blood. They alone knew the truths that Suroth had locked in his journal, the secrets that would get them into the vault in time to stop Tethum.

  He cast a glance at the pair behind him. Even surrounded by fierce Secret Keepers, Hailen hadn’t sheathed his dagger. The young boy held the blade at the ready, his fighting stance a mirror to Evren’s. It seemed he’d assimilated some of Evren’s protective nature as well. The determined set of Hailen’s jaw told Kodyn that the boy would die before he let the Stumblers hurt Briana.

  Behind Hailen, Briana appeared shaken yet equally determined. She clutched the cloth sack containing her father’s journal and the Serenii artifacts from his office. That leather-bound journal and the five chunks of stone had been the cause of so much misery. Countless people had suffered and died in the Iron Warlord’s attempt to get his hands on those things. They had to hold the key to everything. Briana clung to them with the protective embrace of a mother guarding her child. That sack was all she had left of her father—the Iron Warlord and the Keeper’s Council had taken the rest.

  Kodyn couldn’t help admiring her. Despite the terror evident on her face, she marched on, keeping pace with the silent-moving Secret Keepers. She was no warrior, had no martial training or skill with weapons. Her strength lay in her knowledge and her intellect. Those were her weapons in this battle, and she was determined to keep fighting to the end any way she knew how.

  That strength of spirit had drawn him to her in the first place. She had weathered so much—her father’s murder, being stripped of her Dhukari rank, near-death time and again, and imprisonment in the Temple of Whispers—and still stood strong. She had the will to fight that was a requisite for any great warrior, thief, or leader
. He was proud to call her his friend.

  A quiet snap-snap from ahead brought his focus back to the tunnels before him. The noise was Uryan’s hand signal for them to slow down. Stumblers ahead.

  Kodyn ground his teeth. Damn it! They had almost reached the intersection to the first of the east-west tunnels on the Keeper’s Tier, beneath the southern wall. We’re so close!

  He slithered through the shadows, pressing against the wall to avoid the light of the glowstones whenever possible. The intersection ahead was thick with Stumblers, but he had spent countless hours sneaking across Praamis. Darkness was his friend, his protective cloak, his shield.

  Pausing a few paces from the intersection, he glanced east along the passage that ran the length of the Keeper’s Tier. He called to mind the map of the Serenii tunnels, which he’d committed to memory days earlier.

  The tunnel beneath the north wall will be just a few hundred paces that way. His brow scrunched up. If only we had some way to pull the Stumblers west, clear a passage.

  A smile split his lips. Ahh, but we do have a way.

  Slipping back the way he’d come, he headed toward Lunus. “Thunderstriker, please,” he signed, holding up one finger.

  The Secret Keeper cocked an eyebrow. “These are precious,” the priest’s fingers replied. “If, as we fear, the palace is besieged by these creatures, we will need every one of them.”

  “They’ll do no one any good if we don’t live long enough to get them to the palace.” Kodyn’s expression hardened. “And we’re not getting to the palace unless we can pull the Stumblers away from the passage we need to travel.”

  The Secret Keeper’s eyes slid past Kodyn, to Ennolar. The Arch-Guardian must have signaled approval, because Lunus handed him one of the orbs of dark grey clay.

  “Be careful,” the priest warned. “As Danbel Two-Thumbs learned, those things will take your fingers off if not handled correctly.”

  Kodyn grinned. “Thanks for the warning.” He’d seen what the Thunderstriker could do, and the months spent training with the apprentices of House Scorpion had ingrained in him a deep respect for anything alchemical.

  He held the Thunderstriker as a man held a poisonous serpent, moving slowly and cautiously back toward the intersection. A glance to the east revealed the way was still clogged with Stumblers.

  Here goes everything. Drawing in a deep breath, he tore the string from the clay orb and sent it skidding east along the stone passage, right into the middle of a densely packed cluster of Stumblers. Whirling, he squeezed his eyes shut and clapped his hands over his ears.

  A deafening BOOOOM echoed in the tunnels, so loud it seemed to pierce Kodyn’s muffling hands and set his eardrums ringing. The stone walls, ceiling, and floor rattled all around him, and he was nearly thrown off his feet by the concussive blast. A blaze of light shone through his closed eyelids.

  The rasping, gurgling cries grew louder as the sound and light attracted the Stumblers. Kodyn squeezed deeper into the shadows and waited, breathless, his heart hammering.

  Slowly, the horde of creatures stumbled past the intersection, heading east. Long seconds passed before Kodyn risked peering around the corner. He breathed a sigh of relief. The way was clear.

  Turning, he signaled to his waiting comrades. “Let’s go!”

  He was first around the corner, racing down the passage toward the intersection thirty paces east of their position. Behind him, the Stumblers’ rasping, gurgling cries echoed along the tunnels, accompanied by the thump of bodies careening into each other.

  Glancing back, Kodyn was relieved to find his companions racing along behind him. Briana and Hailen were firmly in the middle of the pack, with the rotund Ennolar beside them. The rest of the Secret Keepers had taken protective positions behind and ahead of the three.

  Good. With a nod, Kodyn returned his attention to the tunnels. He couldn’t focus on clearing a path and keeping Briana and Hailen safe—thankfully, he didn’t have to do it alone.

  His thoughts went to his friends, somewhere out there in the city of Shalandra. Issa, the loyal and steadfast Keeper’s Blade, doubtless caught up in a battle alongside her fellow soldiers. Evren, the clever thief that had challenged the Ybrazhe Syndicate. Aisha, the fierce warrior that had stolen his heart, off on her mission to stop Hallar’s Warriors. All of them fighting to save the city in their own ways.

  Worry for them twisted his gut into knots, but he pushed back the fear. He had hope, however faint, that he’d find them safe, hiding somewhere or fighting to stop the Stumbler attack and bringing down the Iron Warlord. Knowing them, they’d likely be in the thick of battle. He had to find them so he could join them, watch their backs.

  His blood froze as a dark figure lurched down the tunnel toward him. A Stumbler, with two more behind it. Kodyn resisted the urge to draw his sword; the glint of the blade could draw their attention. Instead, he slipped a dagger from its sheath and held it pressed against his forearm. He wouldn’t show it until he was close enough to strike.

  A solid presence materialized on his left. Thevoris gave him a nod, and together they attacked.

  Kodyn brought down the first Stumbler with a quick, vicious dagger thrust to the chest. Thevoris skirted the falling body and leapt onto the following pair. He drove the heel of his palm into one creature’s throat, crushing cartilage and silencing its rasping cries. Quick as a darting serpent, his arm snaked around the other’s neck. A quick yank, a loud snap of bone, and the Stumbler sagged like a sack of rocks.

  Heart hammering, Kodyn ripped his blade free of the dead Stumbler. He was used to being quiet, but this felt eerie, a driving need for utter silence for fear of a monstrous enemy. He was gripped by a sense of danger far more potent than anything he’d experienced creeping along the rooftops of Praamis.

  He listened, his keen ears searching for any sound of approaching Stumblers. A quiet rasping sound echoed in the distance, yet it didn’t seem to grow louder. He shot an “All clear” sign to his companions and, with Thevoris at his side, continued the trek up the tunnel.

  The knots in his shoulders tightened with every step. The closer they drew to the palace, the more nervous he grew. The darkness only made things worse. Shadows concealed the threats lurking all around him, preventing him from spotting whatever dangers lay ahead of them.

  And he knew dangers lay ahead.

  The Iron Warlord wanted access to the Vault of Ancients and the Tomb of Hallar, so he’d likely use the secret passages to flood the palace with Stumblers. Failing that, he might try to take the palace through sheer force. Judging by the number of creatures in the tunnel, they had those numbers.

  His worst fears proved true. The east-west tunnel beneath the northern wall of the Keeper’s Tier was so thick with Stumblers Kodyn could hardly see the glowing gemstones through the crush of filthy, rag-covered bodies. Their dry, rasping calls echoed off the stone, a solid wall of sound that set his heart racing. His palms grew suddenly sweaty, his mouth parched as a desert.

  Sweat trickled down his forehead and soaked his clothing. Time to change tactics. There was no way to distract this many Stumblers. His only hope was to get through them, to reach one of the hidden passages that led into the palace. The way to the west was once again blocked, which meant their only hope lay east. Either the main entrance he and Evren had used to reach the Temple of Whispers before the riots began, or the entrance into the Terrestra.

  The nearest was the entrance into the palace itself. The opening stood just a few hundred paces east of their position. If he could just clear the Stumblers around the entrance, he’d have time to open the door using Suroth’s lockstone and get into the hidden passage. From there, it would be a short trek to the palace and safety.

  But first, he had to get rid of the Stumblers. He turned back to Lunus and held up three fingers.

  Again, Lunus’ eyes went to Ennolar.

  The Arch-Guardian hesitated. “What are you planning?” his fingers asked.

  “The only way w
e’re getting into the palace is if we can get past them,” Kodyn signed. “But they’re too thick for us to fight our way through.” He thrust a finger toward the wooden crate with the Thunderstrikers. “Those are our only hope of survival right now.”

  After a moment, Ennolar turned to Lunus and nodded. “Give them to him.”

  Lunus drew out the clay orbs and held them out to Kodyn. Sheathing his dagger, Kodyn took the Thunderstrikers and cradled them his left hand. With his right, he signed, “We move together, packed as tightly as we can. Any Stumblers get in the way, take them down. Whatever happens, don’t stop running.” His face hardened. “We get slowed down or stopped, we die.”

  Solemn faces greeted his, and all the Secret Keepers nodded. Hailen gripped Briana’s hand and shot her a reassuring nod, eliciting a dazzling smile from the girl.

  Kodyn turned back toward the intersection and, closing his eyes, drew in a deep breath. Once, he might have prayed. But there were no gods to listen, only Serenii that had died long ago. It was up to him to keep his friends safe. He opened his eyes and shot a nod to his comrades.

  Gritting his teeth, Kodyn dashed around the corner, tore the string from the Thunderstriker, and hurled it into the crowd of Stumblers. The BOOM nearly deafened him, and even through his closed eyelids, the sudden blast of light was blinding. Head spinning, ears ringing, Kodyn staggered toward the gap that had opened in the throng. Bodies had been blown back, shreds of shattered clay plowing death and devastation through the Stumblers. Kodyn’s boots splashed through blood that puddled on the stony ground.

  Still in a daze, he managed to hurl the second Thunderstriker three seconds later, just before he reached the recovering Stumblers. This time, the concussive blast knocked him backward, slowing his mad dash. Only strong hands at his back kept him from falling. Someone shoved him forward, and he managed to recover enough to keep running. His ears rang and the world whirled so violently he nearly vomited. Yet he gritted his teeth against the nausea and forced himself onward. He couldn’t slow, not if they wanted to get out of here.