Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  “But he’ll still overrun my palace, kill everyone in my city.” The Pharus met their gazes. “Unless something within the vault can turn back the tide of creatures.”

  “The Secret Keepers are working on a solution for that particular problem.” Evren’s grin broadened. “The Stumblers aren’t actually dead, like your legends believe. They’re alive, just twisted by black alchemy into monsters.”

  “I can attest to that, Bright One.” To Evren’s surprise, it was Killian who spoke up. “Four of the creatures survived in the Terrestra, their minds restored, at least somewhat. Even now, the Secret Keepers are examining them to learn what they can about whatever foul potion was given them.”

  “What?” The Pharus’ eyes flew wide. “Truly?”

  “We can go see them right now, if you’d like.” Evren gestured toward the door. “But that will take valuable time, time we could be spending figuring out how to stop the Iron Warlord from getting whatever he needs to unleash the Final Destruction on your city.” His jaw clenched. “Thousands may die in the battle against the Stumblers, but imagine the casualties if he manages to get his hands on a Serenii artifact powerful enough to cause the ‘Final Destruction’. Hallar had to write that prophecy for a reason!”

  He might still doubt his role in the prophecy or whether it actually spoke of him, but if it convinced the Pharus to help them, he’d sing that note for all he was worth.

  The Pharus remained silent a long moment. His teeth worried at his lip, a very pensive, very un-kingly gesture. Finally, he seemed to reach a decision. Striding toward a nearby table, he picked up a small metallic bell. The high-pitched tinkling summoned a manservant, who appeared before the Pharus had returned it to the table.

  “Find out where Lady Callista is,” the Pharus told the servant.

  “Of course, Bright One.” The man bowed and hurried from the room.

  The Pharus turned back to Briana. “I have no doubt the Lady of Blades is occupied with the battle, so we will go to her.” He strode toward the door. “I must speak with Callista. She must know the truth of what we face, and I would have her counsel on what you say. Together, we will decide what must be done to save Shalandra.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  The double doors to the Palace of Golden Eternity closed with a ringing boom of finality. Issa felt it to her bones, an ominous thunderclap that reverberated along the high-vaulted halls of the palace, signaling the beginning of the end.

  This is where we fight our last stand. The thought filled her with foreboding, yet she met it with grim determination. So be it. We fight to the end.

  The palace’s front entrance was consumed in a flurry of activity. Servants rushed up and down the gold-and-silver-tiled halls, dragging ornate and priceless furniture toward the main entrance to pile onto the improvised barricades. Ormroth, Chirak, and the other freed captives worked with the few Indomitables remaining in the palace to build a defensive position. Even as Issa and Lady Callista strode past, soldiers nailed heavy wooden beams across the doors, sealing them against the expected assault.

  The palace prepared for war.

  Lady Callista nodded her approval at the growing barricades and snagged a passing servant, one wearing the silver-threaded headband of her trusted attendants. “Get to the armory, the kitchen, anywhere else you can think of and find me all the iron weapons you’ve got.”

  The servant shot her a questioning look, but obeyed without a word.

  “You believe what he said?” Issa asked in a quiet voice. “That the Iron Warlord’s really a demon? That he can only be killed with iron?”

  Lady Callista shrugged her broad shoulders. “I’m not taking any chances. Anyone that willing to die for a cause is worth listening to. If he’s right, I’m not going to be caught unprepared.” She flagged down another servant. “Get over to the Tomb of Hallar and get a battle report from Ypertatos Lorran.”

  “Yes, my Lady.” Bowing, the man hurried away.

  Issa’s eyes flew wide. “The Stumblers are coming up that way?” The paths through the Keeper’s Crypts led straight into the Citadel of Stone and the palace itself.

  Lady Callista nodded. “Too many of them. Were it not for your fellow prototopoi, Etai, we might not have known in time to do anything. At last report, they were holding, barely.” Her expression grew grim. “I fear that we will soon be facing a battle on two fronts.”

  “If anyone can hold the wall and gate, it is Tannard.” Issa half-snarled the Invictus’ name. She still hadn’t fully come to terms with the fact that Lady Callista had set the cruel, harsh man to be her trainer. He’d tormented her every day of her training—all in the name of strengthening her, hardening her in anticipation of a situation like this, he’d said. That didn’t make her hate him any less, yet a part of her almost felt gratitude. Almost.

  Lady Callista turned to her. “His methods are brutal, but there is no one I would trust more. We came up in the Blades together, served together under Nytano, the man you knew as your grandfather. I knew Tannard would safeguard you, turn you into a true Keeper’s Blade. The truth of your parentage would not remain secret from the Necroseti for long. The moment you started attracting attention, they had already begun digging into your past. I had Tannard and his special crew throw them off the scent the best they could, but it was only a matter of time.” Her expression grew dour, stern. “I never believed the fight would come so soon.”

  Issa growled. “And Killian? Or Elmessam, as you called him. Was he another of your tools? Did you instruct him to train me all those years?”

  “Killian.” Lady Callista repeated the name. “After his injury in the Eirdkilr Wars, he devised his plan to safeguard Shalandra by manipulating and watching its underworld. This was before the Ybrazhe Syndicate, mind you, when crime had not yet organized to such a vast extent. The Pharus and I both believed it to be the best choice.” She fixed Issa with a piercing gaze. “As to his choice to train you, I had no hand in that matter. You will have to ask him why he chose to go against Nytano and Aleema’s wishes, and my order to keep you safe and out of the public eye.”

  “Your order?” Issa’s voice rose to a shout, causing heads to turn toward them.

  With a scowl, Lady Callista led her away from the palace’s entrance, through the corridors heading west, and into a smaller sitting chamber. “You are one secret best kept from getting out for now!” she hissed. “I understand your anger, but—”

  “Five years.” Issa’s voice came out in a growl. “Five years lying to them, the ones who I called my grandparents. Do you know how guilty I felt, knowing that I was going behind their backs? After everything they had done for me, all their love and care, I still made the choice to deceive them. And now…” Her voice cracked. “And now Saba is dead. Because of me.”

  Sorrow washed over her, a ponderous burden that settled onto her shoulders and dragged at her limbs.

  “No!” Lady Callista’s voice cracked like a whip. “Nytano fell in battle, a warrior’s death befitting a Keeper’s Blade. It was not your fault.”

  “I could have gotten there sooner.” Issa’s throat grew thick, her voice hoarse. “I could have defeated the Ybrazhe before they overwhelmed the smithy’s defenses.” Tears brimmed in her eyes and slipped down her cheeks. “If I hadn’t gone after the Necroseti, I would have been there to save him.”

  “But you were there to save him.” Lady Callista stepped closer and placed a strong hand on Issa’s shoulder. “Killian told me about the battle, that you and Evren arrived to stop the Syndicate from breaking through. You saved all their lives, and the lives of Killian’s Mumblers.”

  Issa opened her mouth to protest, but the Lady of Blades drove on.

  “You were there. Against all odds, you arrived and fought with them, turned back an enemy that far outnumbered you.” Sorrow twisted her face and moisture glittered in her eyes. “Nytano fell in battle, a loss I feel as deeply as you, yet a consequence of the battle we fight. We mourn him, but never feel gu
ilt that you did not save him.” Her other hand gripped Issa’s shoulder, a tight, comforting squeeze. “I have no doubt that his last words were filled with his love for you.”

  Issa’s tears flowed faster now. “His favorite saying. Strike first—”

  “—strike true,” Lady Callista finished.

  A sad smile tugged at Issa’s lips, banished as a sob burst from deep within her. She hadn’t had time to mourn her Saba, not properly. She’d been dragged away from his body by the Necroseti spearmen. This was the first chance she’d had to truly feel the pain of loss.

  Lady Callista’s arms wrapped around Issa, pulled her close. “The man I remembered,” she whispered,

  “the man who trained me and treated me as his own daughter, he would have been proud of what you became. Despite everything, even though you had to do it behind his back, you followed in his footsteps to become a Keeper’s Blade. Knowing that you had the courage to face the trials and swear the oath to serve Shalandra above all else, that alone would have made him proud to call you his granddaughter.” She swallowed. “Just as I am proud to call you my daughter.”

  Issa no longer tried to fight it. She let go of her anger and resentment toward Lady Callista. She’d lost one parent already; she needed another to fill her Saba’s place. She relaxed into the Lady of Blades’ arms and allowed the tears to flow.

  “From the moment I recognized you, I watched your every action, had Tannard and Hykos report on every decision you made,” Lady Callista said. “Each time, each choice, you only made me prouder. Standing up to Tannard for that innocent Mahjuri. Battling the Indomitables to protect the Slave’s Tier. Fighting to convince me not to send Aterallis to his execution. Facing overwhelming odds to save your fellow Blades.” She pulled back from the embrace and cupped Issa’s face in a mailed hand. “You are the daughter I always hoped I would meet. The child I could never have, yet never stopped loving.”

  Issa wrapped her mother in a fierce hug.

  “I’m sorry, Issa.” Lady Callista whispered in her ear. “So sorry that I could not be stronger, could not protect you. I did what I thought was best, and every day since I have wondered if I made the right choice.”

  She pulled free. “But the Long Keeper has led you back to me. We are together once more. And together, we must find a way to save our city. To protect the Pharus.”

  The way Lady Callista said it, the timbre of her voice and the emphasis on the Pharus’ name, sparked something within Issa’s mind.

  “You don’t hate him,” she whispered. Her mind flashed back to the answer Lady Callista had given when pressed earlier. “You love him. Still. Even after all this time.”

  The Lady of Blades’ jaw tightened, her fists clenched. “With every fiber of my being, I do. Yet it cannot be. We could never be together.”

  “Why not?” Issa’s brow furrowed. “What’s to stop you?”

  “The Prophecy of Final Destruction.” Lady Callista swallowed hard. “I am the sword and he is the scepter. Once, I believed that our alliance would lead to the fulfillment of the prophecy. When I discovered I was with child, his child, I feared you were that alignment. That, in part, was what led me to give you to Nytano and Aleema.”

  “The Keeper’s Council knew of the prophecy as well.” Issa felt her gut clench. “They would have seen me as a threat, the beginning of the Final Destruction.”

  “They would have done everything in their power to see you dead,” Lady Callista replied. “Just as they orchestrated the death of Aterallis.”

  The people had called Aterallis “child of gold, child of spirits, child of secrets”, proclaimed him Hallar Reborn and the herald of the Final Destruction. The Keeper’s Council didn’t only fear his growing influence over the people; they, too, had feared he would somehow cause the prophesied desolation. Thus, they had condemned an innocent man to death.

  “Yet even with you hiding in safety, I could not risk the Keeper’s Council harming your father.” Lady Callista’s shoulders tightened, the lines of her face deepening. “If they believed we were more than Pharus and Proxenos, they would have wrested the power from him long ago. The only way I could preserve Shalandra and protect your father was to pretend to hate him.”

  “It’s a ruse?” Issa’s eyebrows shot up. Even on the Cultivator’s Tier, it was well known that the Lady of Blades and the Pharus shared a mutual enmity. They had made the pretense very believable and highly visible, going so far as to undermine each other in public.

  Lady Callista nodded. “A necessary one to keep the Council’s attention focused on me and the threat that I pose to them as the Lady of Blades, rather than leveraging their power against the Pharus. Already, thanks to his weak-willed, spineless coward of a father, the Council had too much control. By directing their enmity against me and making the Pharus appear weak, he was able to manipulate events in Shalandra beneath their noses, slowly take back control of the city.”

  “All these years, spent pretending to hate him!” Issa breathed. “I can only imagine how much that hurt you.”

  “More than you will ever understand.” A shadow passed in Lady Callista’s eyes, grief twisting her lips into a frown. “Yet in our hearts, we knew it was the only way. We have spent the last eighteen years pretending to hate each other, all for the sake of protecting the city.”

  Issa could feel Lady Callista’s pain, and it broke her heart. To see someone so strong, someone she’d once believed was invincible and indomitable, suffering so deeply drove a spike of sorrow into her gut. Her throat thickened and the tears that rose to her eyes now were for Lady Callista.

  She reached up and squeezed her mother’s hand, still resting on her shoulder. “Perhaps…” She hesitated. “…when this is all over, we can tell him.”

  Lady Callista’s jaw muscles worked, her face growing suddenly hard. Issa could feel the defensive walls erected around the Lady of Blades once more, a solid barrier of ice that protected her in her role as commander.

  “The Keeper’s Council is overthrown, the city is back in your control.” Issa protested. “There is no more threat to you. To us!”

  “That may be the case,” Lady Callista began, “but—”

  “No!” Issa clenched her jaw. “I spent my life wondering, my mind burning with questions that remained unanswered. Now that I know, it is as if a weight has been lifted from my chest.”

  For the first time, she realized that she felt oddly at peace with herself. The loss of her grandfather still weighed on her and she had yet to truly overcome the bitter feelings directed at Lady Callista for deceiving her, yet the truth had given her a sense of clarity. She knew who she was, even if she had no idea what exactly it meant to be the child of the Pharus and Lady of Blades. She knew she belonged in the Keeper’s Blades, just as her mother and her grandparents before her.

  Issa met her mother’s gaze. “Just like me, the Pharus deserves to know the truth!”

  “The truth of what?” A deep, rich voice boomed from the far side of the room.

  Lady Callista froze, her spine suddenly stiff, every muscle in her face and body rigid.

  Issa turned toward the voice. There, his broad shoulders and strong figure framed in the doorway, stood Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres. Her father.

  Chapter Thirty

  With his injured leg, Kodyn couldn’t match the double-time march of the Keeper’s Blades. Leaning on Aisha for support, he contented himself to limp down the hall more slowly. The pain of his injury only added to his exhaustion.

  Kodyn’s brow furrowed as they passed the empty Council Chamber and strode farther east into the palace. They were searching for their friends, but at that moment, fresh out of battle, he felt as if they needed a few moments of peace, just the two of them.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked Aisha.

  “Me?” She seemed surprised. “You’re the one that just had a bloody mountain fall on top of him.”

  “Almost.” Kodyn grinned. “But you’re looking pretty drained. Contr
olling the spirits looks like it takes a lot out of you.”

  “There’s that.” Aisha sounded hesitant. “But really…it’s the voices that are the hardest sometime. Every one of the Kish’aa has their own desires and demands. It can be exhausting to wrestle against that driving, relentless need, to control the spirits rather than letting them control me. Especially when there are so many of them.”

  “Have I told you how impressive it is? What you can do, these powers of yours.” Kodyn paused, turned to face her, and met her eyes. “You’ve always been extraordinary, but since leaving Praamis, you keep surprising me. You just get more and more amazing the more I get to know you.”

  Emotions flooded him—strong, overwhelming emotions that demanded to be put into words. Words he didn’t know how to form. He wanted to tell her what he felt, how he’d realized that he wanted to go with her wherever she went, to join her on whatever adventure came next. Yet now that he stood in front of her, he found himself unable to speak.

  A smile broadened Aisha’s full lips. She seemed to read the truth in his eyes, and he saw it mirrored in hers. She pulled him close and pressed a tender kiss to his lips. “You’re pretty damned impressive yourself,” she whispered when she broke off long, breathless seconds later.

  In that moment, he knew he’d found his true happiness. A friend he could rely on. A fierce warrior to fight at his side. A level head to bring balance to his headstrong, bull-headed nature. The other half of his diamond.

  “When all this is over…” A lump in his throat choked off his words. Swallowing hard, he tried again. “When we win this battle and the threat is past, will you—”

  “Ho, Kodyn!” A familiar voice echoed down the corridor. “Looks like you’re just in time.”

  Irritation flared bright in Kodyn’s mind, and an angry snarl rose to his lips. Evren had just interrupted him at the worst possible moment. He whirled to unleash a string of curses for the inopportune timing, but stopped when he caught sight of the people accompanying Evren.