Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  And you can help me stop him, Aisha told the voice. Sweat trickled down her face and her jaw ached from clenching. Without the pendant, without Whispering Lily, she had only her willpower to sharpen her thoughts. It took every shred of effort to concentrate on Hallar’s voice, to keep it from drowning her beneath its immense power. The spirit of Shalandra’s founder was driven by an indomitable will that made the Blades Aisha had channeled weaklings by comparison. The moment her attention or her resolve wavered, Hallar would seize control of her.

  Aisha pushed back against the pressure building in her skull. Help me stop him from killing your rightful heir, the protectors of Shalandra.

  The force attacking her mind increased, and Aisha bit back a cry as the power of Hallar’s will battered at her mental defenses. She could feel the walls of her willpower crumbling, giving way before Hallar’s single-minded desire. He had clung to life for thousands of years, stubbornly refusing to cross into the realm of spirits, all in the name of protecting his city.

  To save my city, and your friends with it, you must do what needs to be done. His empty eyes fixed on her, his strength of spirit assaulting her from all sides.

  In that moment, Aisha understood the truth. He needed her body, her mind, her soul to fulfill his mission, and he would claim them at any cost.

  Isn’t that what he wants? Aisha tried to fight off Hallar’s spirit, gritted her teeth against the pain lancing her skull. Doing that will just play into his hands!

  Her breath caught in her lungs, fire coursing through her veins as Hallar continued assailing her mind.

  It is what he desires, the spirit thundered in her mind. But it will not do what he intends.

  For a moment, Briana’s words pierced the mental barrage. “Destruction that, like the closing of this circle, heralds a new beginning. A rebirth.”

  In this machine, there is the power to bring life to that which was dead. Hallar drifted closer, his empty eyes locked onto her. To resurrect Shalandra after the Final Destruction.

  A vague image flashed through Aisha’s mind, implanted by the spirit of Hallar. Power washed over the city in a blistering wave, scouring every corner. The flash faded in an instant, before she could see the effects of the wall of burning, crackling light. Yet in that moment, she knew the truth of what Hallar intended.

  He would save the city, and every one of the living with it.

  Very well, Aisha told him. Give me your power, and I will do what must be done.

  That will not work. Hallar’s voice echoed with the force of clashing thunder, sizzling like sparks of lightning in her brain. You must give yourself over to me, let me take control of you.

  Aisha fought to regain control, to pull back from this world-between-worlds in which she now found herself. A world in which only she and Hallar existed, while her friends, her loved ones, her enemies all faded into nothing.

  Yet she could not. She could not escape the truth of what she had to do. She had come to Shalandra to find her destiny, and it stared her in the face.

  Embracing Hallar was the only way.

  Sorrow thrummed within Aisha. In her mind’s eyes, she envisioned her father as she’d seen him last: his eyes empty, his expression vacant, his body nothing more than an empty husk of flesh. Suddenly, she understood what had happened. The Kish’aa had demanded much of him, a high price that he had paid. A gift to the spirits of the dead, one that had Unshackled his mind.

  Now, Aisha faced a similar choice. If she resisted, if she fought Hallar’s spirit, she might survive, only to die at the hands of a demon. Yet if she gave in, she entrusted her flesh into the hands of something that had existed outside the bounds of humanity for thousands of years. In giving over control of her body, she could very well sever the connection to her spirit.

  There is no other choice! Hallar thundered. The fate of Shalandra rests on your shoulders. And I will save my city at any cost!

  Aisha tried to resist, tried to retain control of her body, but the force tugging on her mind was too great. A silent scream burst from her lips as the threads of her soul frayed and tattered beneath Hallar’s assault. She clawed at her flesh, digging in with all her strength. Yet she could not win this battle, not against one driven by a burning desire stoked to a towering inferno over thousands of years.

  Slowly, yet as inexorable as a tidal wave surging toward the shore, the spirit of Shalandra’s founder dragged at Aisha’s consciousness. Her hold slipped, her grasp on reality wavered, and finally, with a world-shattering snap, the bond was severed and Aisha’s soul was Unshackled from her body.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Issa shuddered as Tethum’s inky black eyes fixed on her. “For years, I have waited for Hallar’s chosen heir to be revealed.” Those eyes were colder than ice, driving a dagger of fear into Issa’s gut. “Sword and scepter aligned, the harbinger of the Final Destruction.” He thrust a long, thick finger at her. “You.”

  It took all of Issa’s self-control to meet the demon’s gaze. Her insides quailed, an instinctive fear and revulsion shrieking in the back of her mind.

  Yet one look at her mother held in Tethum’s iron grip was all she needed to bolster her courage. “So now you have me,” she said. “That’s what you need to activate the Serenii power, right? Hallar’s blood?”

  “My blood.” The Iron Warlord’s voice was harsh, far crueler than Tannard’s could ever be. “All those years wasted in fruitless search—now, you have finally come to me at the hour of my triumph!” His eyes went back to the Lady of Blades, who hung dangling in the air, his strong arms holding her up without apparent effort. “Enough talk. Unless you wish to watch your mother die before your eyes, give me what I have come for. Give me your blood.”

  “Let her go, and you will have it.” Issa lowered her flammard and set it on the floor. “See, my hands are empty. I am no threat to you. Just let my mother go.”

  From the corner of her vision, Issa caught the sudden stiffening of Aisha’s body, the stunned look in Kodyn’s eyes.

  “Issa, no!” The Pharus gripped her shoulder. “You can’t let him destroy—”

  Issa turned to the Pharus. “I’m sorry, Father. I can’t lose her. Can’t lose either of you.”

  One of Killian’s lessons, hammered home over the course of hours in the training yard, flashed through her mind. The battle is only over when you are dead. As long as you live, you fight with every breath.

  She was gambling that Tethum would be so distracted by the Serenii mechanism and unleashing his desired Final Destruction that she’d have a chance to make a move. One quick thrust of the iron dagger still tucked in her belt would at least slow him, according to the Cambionari, Burim. Kodyn was close enough to the unconscious Hykos that he could snatch up the Archateros’ iron dagger and get at Tethum in seconds. It was their only hope. She just needed to save her mother’s life.

  Issa met the Pharus’ gaze firmly. “If I don’t do this, he will kill the woman you love. The woman who has loved you every day for the last twenty years, even if she has had no choice but to hide it from the world.”

  Sorrow flashed in the Pharus’ eyes, and his gaze darted to Lady Callista. Her face had gone purple, tongue lolling from her mouth, her struggles against Tethum’s iron grip weakening as the demon choked the life from her.

  “And to think, I thought the fool Dayblood was concocting the rumor.” Tethum shrugged his broad shoulders. “Even if it were a fabrication, it was a potent enough weapon to turn the Keeper’s Council against you. Those arrogant cravens wanted you dead the moment he told them who you truly were.”

  Issa bared her teeth in a snarl. “They tried and failed. As did the man you sent to kill me in my cell.”

  “Yet here I am!” Tethum’s voice rose in a triumphant shout. “You thought you could defeat me by stealing the artifacts away from me, hiding among the Secret Keepers. You foolishly believed you could win by slaying my Gatherers, defeating those idealistic cretins that call themselves Hallar’s Warriors. Yet
your actions only bought me more time to turn your own people into Stumblers, creatures that obey only my commands, follow my will. And when this is over, you, too, will join the ranks of my slaves.”

  With a snarl, he hurled Lady Callista across the room. The Lady of Blades flew five paces and crashed into the wall, collapsing to a gasping, choking heap in a clatter of steel.

  “Callista!” The Pharus rushed to her side.

  Fury blazed to life within Issa. She wanted to hurl herself at the metal-masked demon, to carve him to pieces with her flammard. With effort, she bit down on her anger. Recklessness had already nearly gotten her killed once; she needed to play it smart, to find a way to defeat the Iron Warlord through cunning rather than brute strength and skill.

  “You!” Tethum thrust a long finger at her. “Heir of my weakling son. The time has come to fulfill your end of the bargain. Your blood.”

  Tethum strode toward the stone table of glowing runes and gemstones. With Lady Callista down, the Pharus at her side, and Issa pretending surrender, only Evren stood between the Iron Warlord the Serenii mechanism. Issa caught the young man’s gaze and gave a tiny shake of her head. She’d seen Evren fight—he had the tenacity, determination, and skill of any Keeper’s Blade, but he couldn’t hope to stand against the demon on his own. He nodded and backed away, ushering Briana and Hailen to safety behind him. But the look in his eyes told Issa he’d be ready when the time came.

  Kodyn and Aisha remained on the far side of the stone table, out of Tethum’s reach yet positioned in the right place for a sneak attack. Aisha seemed lost in a trance, her eyes oddly blank, vacant. Evren, however, had that casual, almost indifferent expression that Issa had come to recognize as wary alertness. He’d spring into action the moment Tethum was distracted.

  Now is my part to play.

  Arms held up and away from her sides, clear of the dagger tucked into her belt, Issa moved toward the demon. Even being near him sent a shiver of revulsion down her spine; he radiated menace, bestial fury, a barely-restrained lust for blood and violence. Yet to make her plan work, she had to get close to him.

  Tethum bent over the console, his fingers moving from stone to stone, depressing one into its socket, twisting another, sliding a third up a vertical slot. To Issa’s surprise, he moved with far less confidence than she’d expected.

  Does he not know how to activate it? The handiwork of the Serenii might predate even him—a thought that would have boggled Issa’s mind had she not been fighting for her life and those of her friends and family. If I can get him talking, take his attention away from whatever he’s doing, it could slow him down even further. Anything to buy time.

  Time for what? A miracle? For an army of Blades or iron-wielding Cambionari to rush in and rescue them? Issa couldn’t count on anyone but the people in the room. Hykos and Etai were out of the fight, but Lady Callista could still recover. Every second gave them another chance at defeating the demon.

  “The attack on the palace, that wasn’t truly an assassination attempt on the Pharus, was it?” Issa spoke louder than necessary to cover any sounds of Kodyn or Aisha moving into place for a sneak attack. “You sent them to use acid to burn his face, to force him to wear a mask so no one would know when you replaced him.”

  Tethum’s metallic face never lifted from the stone table. “I see you inherited my son’s acumen—one of the few things that prevented him from being a total disappointment to his blood.”

  Issa’s gut clenched. She had to distract him. “But why attack the Keeper’s Council, too? You could only replace the Pharus, but the Necroseti—”

  “The Necroseti were clueless fools!” Tethum’s head snapped up, a dark fire of fury blazing in his midnight eyes. “Driven by greed, the lust for power, and their inane worship of the Long Keeper.” He gave a derisive snort. “They were the greatest threat to themselves. All it took was the threat of death to set them scrambling, grasping at their strings of might to protect themselves. Groebus turned their worst traits against them, and they were the authors of their own destruction.”

  Issa’s gut clenched as the Iron Warlord turned back to the table, his fingers flying faster. Before she could speak, Tethum slammed his fist on a bright green gemstone and spun toward her.

  “And now,” he crowed, “thanks to them, I have everything I need!”

  The demon moved, so quickly she had no time to react. His fingers closed around her wrist and he dragged her close.

  The touch of his hands set her skin crawling. She struggled to break free, but she could not tear her wrist from his implacable grip. She felt as if stone encased her wrist and held her fast. Ice slithered down Issa’s spine as the demon raised his flammard and slashed a long line across her palm.

  Savage laughter rumbled from beneath the metallic mask. “With your blood, my triumph is complete!”

  Time slowed to a crawl as blood welled from her hand and coalesced into a thick line. The drop hung in the air, frozen in a breathless moment. Then it plummeted toward the black-and-crimson gemstone set into the stone table—one identical to the gemstone that had opened the door below.

  Her blood splashed onto the gemstone, and instantly it flared to brilliant red light. Something deep within the stone walls, floor, and ceiling hummed to life, a low droning that rattled her teeth and trembled in her bones. Issa’s eyes flew wide at the sight of the gemstone drinking in the blood, absorbing it like a cloth, consuming the beads of crimson until nothing but brilliant glowing stone remained.

  Issa felt a wave of hopelessness surge over her. She’d failed to stop the demon, failed to buy them time.

  In that moment, Kodyn leapt toward Tethum, Hykos’ iron blade in his hand. The dagger struck like a serpent, darting toward the Iron Warlord’s back.

  Hope surged within Issa. Her free hand darted to the dagger on her own belt and ripped it free of its sheath. All was not lost. Together, they had a chance to—

  Tethum moved far faster than Issa believed possible. He twisted his shoulder, evading Kodyn’s dagger strike by a hair’s breadth. His left hand lashed out, a blow too quick for Kodyn to dodge, too powerful to block. The flat of his blade cracked into Kodyn’s chest with such force the young thief was hurled backward. Kodyn flew through the air and collided with Aisha. The two of them fell in a tangled heap of limbs.

  Issa’s thrust nearly reached Tethum, but the Iron Warlord yanked on her wrist, throwing her off-balance. Agony flared through her shoulder as it was wrenched in its socket. Muscles and tendons screamed in protest. Her desperate blow sliced fabric but failed to cut skin or reach vital organs. Steel clattered behind the Iron Warlord and suddenly the demon’s fingers wrapped around her neck.

  The iron grip crushed her throat, cut off her air. She gasped and fought to suck in a breath, in vain. Lances of pain pierced her spine as the Iron Warlord lifted her from the ground. Issa’s mailed fist beat against the hand that held her fast, but she could have beat at Alshuruq itself for all the good it did.

  Dread turned her blood to ice. Her heart pounded a terrified beat as her starving lungs begged for air.

  Behind the Iron Warlord, Kodyn knelt over Aisha, who lay gripped in a jerking, twitching spasm, her body thrashing about wildly. Against the far wall, the Pharus, her father, clutched at Lady Callista, her mother, and struggled to help her upright. The unconscious form of Hykos lay still and silent beside the door.

  Then Issa’s gaze went back to the Iron Warlord. Behind that shining metal mask, she stared into eyes darker than shalanite, colder than the glaciers in the frozen sea.

  In that moment, Issa knew she was going to die.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Pain flared through Kodyn’s chest and he struggled to draw breath. He hadn’t known anything could hit so hard—his breastbone felt cracked, and every inhale sent twinges racing through his ribs.

  Yet it paled in comparison to the horror he felt watching Aisha twitching and writhing beneath him. Her arms and legs thrashed so wildly he feared
she’d break something. His gaze darted from her spasm-twisted face to the Iron Warlord, who held Issa in an unbreakable grip, her feet dangling a hand’s breadth off the ground.

  “Aisha!” he shouted. “Aisha, come back to me!”

  A wave of helplessness washed over Kodyn. He felt torn by concern for Aisha and a desire to protect his friends. He couldn’t fight the demon if Aisha was dying, but if he didn’t do something, Tethum would kill Issa.

  “No!” Lady Callista’s hoarse, rasping gasp echoed from where she lay in the Pharus’ arms.

  “Issa!” the Pharus cried.

  Issa’s face turned from red to purple, her movements growing more frantic as she fought in vain to breathe.

  Hope appeared in the form of Evren. The Vothmoti thief hurled himself at the Iron Warlord, a familiar curved dagger gripped in his hand. Without releasing Issa, Tethum slapped aside the attack bare-handed and drove a fist into Evren’s face. Evren’s head snapped back and he stumbled backward, collapsing at Hailen and Briana’s feet.

  “Evren!” Fear rang in Briana’s voice as she knelt over Evren’s stunned figure.

  “Which of you carries the key?” Tethum roared. “I will not hesitate to tear your corpses apart to find it!”

  “Here!” Hailen threw the long, cylindrical black stone at the demon.

  Tethum tossed Issa aside like a cloth ragdoll and snatched the stone from the air. “A smart choice, boy.” His black eyes fixed on Hailen. “Imagine my surprise to learn that one of the ancient blood had returned to Shalandra after all these millennia. I’d say I expected someone less…” He waved his hand in a disdainful gesture. “…childish.”

  Hailen drew a dagger and stood in a protective crouch over Briana, who cradled Evren’s bloodied head. “Come over here and find out what this child can do to you, Abiarazi!”