Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  “The machine will not work for you, Father.” Hallar’s voice burst from her lips, his presence filling her with power. “Not without the crucial element. Me.”

  “Aisha?” Kodyn’s voice pierced the pounding blood in her ears.

  “I’m fine,” she said, her voice and Hallar’s mingled. “But the power of the Serenii must be unleashed.”

  “I know.” Kodyn nodded. He moved aside with a wince, gripping an iron dagger in a bloodied hand. “You do what you need to do. I’ve got your back.”

  “Quickly!” Evren said, his voice edged with pain. “While the demon’s stunned, tie him up!”

  The machine! Hallar’s presence urged in her mind. His insistence tugged on her limbs, pulling her toward the stone table.

  Images flashed through Aisha’s mind: long, grey-skinned fingers with too many joints flashed across the glowing stones and glyphs in a sequential pattern. Her breath caught in her lungs as she realized what she saw. The Serenii had taught Hallar how to activate their power, and now he shared that knowledge with her.

  Her hands moved across the stone table, tapping one gemstone, twisting another, sliding a third to unite with two more beside it. The humming in the room grew louder, rising to a deafening roar that set the ground trembling beneath her feet. But she had no fear. The power stored deep within the heart of Alshuruq, within a Dy’nashia hundreds of paces wide and long, would not destroy Shalandra.

  “My father was wrong,” Hallar’s voice spoke through her, piercing the roar of the Serenii machine. “He believed the machine would give him power. He came to Shalandra to claim it as his own. Yet the Serenii built this not to kill. They built it to save—not only this city, but all of Einan with it.”

  Aisha pressed the last gemstone in the sequence, and a section of golden sandstone darkened to midnight black. A smile lifted her lips—her own relief mingled with Hallar’s triumph.

  “Now my mission is fulfilled!”

  Thrusting out her hand, Aisha channeled the power of Hallar’s spirit through her fingers and into the stone. A thunderclap echoed through the room, accompanied by a deep-throated rumbling from the city outside. Aisha poured all of the blue-white light into the black stone and it grew slowly brighter, brighter, flooding the room with a brilliance at once soothing and terrifying.

  Look, Hallar rumbled in her mind. Look and see what you have done.

  Aisha’s eyes lifted. Through the twin windows, Shalandra had come to life. Blue-white light danced through the air and along the broad, flat stone roads of each tier, leaping between the towering sandstone cliffs that served as the city’s borders. Bolts of lightning sizzling through the air, crackling from west to east with blinding force. The force knocked the Stumblers to the ground, where they lay, thousands of miniature figures writhing on the ground as the power burned through their bodies. The might of the Kish’aa, the countless dead of Shalandra gathered in the Keeper’s Crypts, scoured the poison from the creatures as it surged toward the deposits of shalanite deep within the mountain.

  Aisha could feel the power absorbed into the shalanite, feel it sucked down into the massive Serenii-wrought Dy’nashia stone buried far beneath Alshuruq. Yet it didn’t stop there. Instead, it was pulled farther down, deep into the core of Einan itself, and channeled into the bowels of the world. The power grew fainter as it sped away from Shalandra, yet she didn’t need to feel it to know where it went.

  Enarium, and Kharna. The power would sustain the ancient Serenii bound to fight the Great Devourer.

  Joy burned brilliant within her. Thank you! Hallar’s voice rumbled in her mind. My oath to the Serenii is fulfilled.

  Despite Hallar’s joy, horror writhed like worms in Aisha’s gut. And in doing so, killed all those people! Ennolar’s words flashed through her thoughts. Every one of the Stumblers, bodies and brains twisted by the Iron Warlord’s foul alchemy, would die without an antidote. An antidote that Ennolar had believed they could produce, but nowhere near enough in time to save the tens of thousands of people below. Grief surged within her at the thought of all the innocent victims of the Iron Warlord’s cruelty succumbing to the poison’s taint.

  It needed to be done, Hallar’s spirit replied. It was necessary for the Great Rebirth.

  That only added to the sickening feeling in Aisha’s stomach. “Necessary evil” had been the same reason the Keeper’s Council used to excuse their actions.

  Some will die. Remorse echoed in Hallar’s voice. It is the way of things. Yet not all. There is hope for some. A hope that you have restored within us. Shalandra has been brought to life, and with it, hope for all of Einan.

  I will honor my word, she told him. Shalandra will not fall, will not go dark, but will remain a beacon of promise for all of Einan, as the Serenii intended. As you dreamed it would be.

  The cleansing had come at a cost—one she still hoped the Secret Keepers could mitigate—yet in the end, the city would be reborn. A fresh start, cleansed of the Iron Warlord and Groebus’ foul taint.

  Hallar fixed her with a broad grin. Then at long last, after all these millennia, I know my city is in good hands.

  With one last surge of power, a final burst of joy and hope that flooded her chest, Hallar’s spirit dissipated before her eyes, until the last blue-white thread of light faded to nothingness.

  His mission was fulfilled. He had peace.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Issa gasped and pushed herself up to her elbows, struggling to stand. Her breath came hard, her throat aching, yet determination fueled her muscles. Whatever Aisha had done had knocked back the demon, stunned it. She had unleashed the power of the Serenii, and the rumbling from within the mountain had diminished to a low hum.

  But the battle was far from over.

  “No!” The Iron Warlord’s voice rang through the stone chamber.

  The thing that rose to his feet could scarcely be called human. The steel mask had fallen away, revealing a hideous mass of twisted flesh and bone. Shards of iron flecked the demon’s cheeks, forehead, lips, and ears, burrowing deep into his skull and contorting his face. The flesh was red and livid, with threads of black seeping into his veins. His mangled lips were pulled back into a snarl to reveal blackened gums and rotting teeth.

  Yet his eyes, those terrifying eyes far darker than shalanite, blazed with hatred and fury. “That power was mine!” Smoke still rose from the Iron Warlord’s smoldering tunic and scorched flesh. Yet the blackened skin and muscle on his chest had already begun to re-knit. The demon regained strength, slowly, yet Issa knew she had only a matter of minutes before he would tear into them. She couldn’t give him that chance.

  Somehow, she had managed to retain her grip on the iron dagger. She took a step toward the demon, her legs trembling and weak, then another.

  “Issa!” Hailen’s voice echoed behind her. “Use this! It will put him down for good!”

  Issa turned in time to see Kodyn hurling something toward her. She snatched the object from the air before she realized what it was.

  The Blade of Hallar felt heavy in her hand, the weight of steel augmented by the heft of the Keeper’s Scepter still inserted into its too-large hilt. Yet, somehow, it felt…right. As if it belonged.

  Something pricked into her palm, and a surge of power washed through her body, driving back her fatigue and pain. She felt revitalized, her muscles flooded with energy.

  If she’d had any doubts about her heritage, they evaporated in a heartbeat.

  The Blade of Hallar had chosen her. This was more than the Keeper’s blessing—it was the gift of Hallar’s blood. The blood of a demon, the same demon that stood before her.

  The realization struck her as terribly odd, almost impossible to fathom under ordinary circumstances. The creature with the mangled, twisted face was her ancestor. Thousands of years old, a being of evil and hatred, a monster with a soul as scarred and hideous as his flesh.

  Suddenly, the words of Issa’s oath flashed through her mind. “I swear fealty to th
e Long Keeper and the Pharus, his servant on Einan.” Her voice rang with defiance and conviction as she stalked toward the demon.

  “With this sword,” she shouted, “I swear to sever all ties to my past life, to who I once was, and leave behind my old life to become Dhukari, an honor bestowed only upon those who are worthy.”

  She attacked, the heavy flammard a blur of black steel in the air. The demon staggered away, barely managing to dodge the blow. Her muscles flooded with renewed vigor, Issa kept hammering at him. He slapped aside one strike, ducked another, and howled in agony as the third clipped his shoulder. For a heartbeat, Issa could almost feel the power coursing through her body. The gemstone in the sword’s hilt glowed a faint crimson in that instant and the steel seemed to consume the demon’s blood.

  Shocked, Issa’s next attack faltered, just long enough for Tethum to throw himself to one side and seize Hykos’ fallen flammard. He turned to face her, a snarl on his twisted lips, his rotting teeth bared. A low, guttural growl echoed from his throat.

  But Issa had no fear of the thing she faced. She had been chosen by Hallar, servant of the Long Keeper, and she wielded his blade.

  “With this sword, I swear to heed the commands of my officers, to serve the Lady of Blades and the Elders without hesitation.”

  The Blade of Hallar seemed to flow in her hands, the black steel rippling with light as she attacked. Fast, faster than she’d ever moved before, her skill backed by the fury burning in her chest.

  “With this sword, I swear to serve the city of Shalandra and its people to the best of my ability, until the Long Keeper chooses to gather me into his arms.” Her face creased into a snarl. “But this is not that day, Demon! This is the day you die!”

  She hacked, slashed, and thrust, the ancient flammard chopping at the demon from all sides. Tethum staggered beneath the force of her attack, giving ground as his body repaired. Issa pressed him hard, forcing him to retreat. If she could trap him in a corner, limit his movement, she could chop him to pieces. The Blade of Hallar would put an end to him.

  Yet with every heartbeat, the demon grew stronger, his flesh knitting. Pain faded from his black eyes, replaced by cold, cruel glee. The Iron Warlord turned aside her attacks with greater ease, his own blows landing with greater force. Issa found herself pushed back and fighting a defensive battle. Even with the Blade of Hallar, she couldn’t hope to match the speed and skill of a creature so ancient.

  Each blow jarred her shoulders and arms, sent pain flaring through her chest and bruised throat. Desperation surged within her as she realized she fought a losing battle.

  Tethum swung his flammard toward her neck, a decapitating blow she barely managed to block. The force of his strike sent her sword flying wide and exposed her throat.

  Time slowed to a crawl as his sword whistled toward her neck. She couldn’t hope to bring her blade back in time to deflect, block, or even slow it. She could do nothing but grit her teeth in defiance as death came for her.

  Steel clanged off steel mere inches from Issa’s face. Lady Callista suddenly stood beside her, Issa’s sword in one hand, a long, curved dagger in the other.

  “Mine!” screamed the demon, a wild light of fury etching his face as he fixed his eyes not on the Blade of Hallar, but the dagger in her mother’s hand.

  Issa’s eyes flew wide as she recognized the weapon: it was the blade that had rested atop Hallar’s chest in the gemstone casket below, the one the Pharus had worn on his belt.

  She had no time to wonder how her mother had gotten it—Tethum went on the offensive.

  “I will claim that which was stolen from me!” the Iron Warlord shrieked. The demon struck at Lady Callista, hard enough to send her staggering. “I will burn this city to ashes, drown you beneath the corpses of everyone you love!”

  Issa leapt into the attack, but her thrust was deflected. Tethum struck her blade so hard the flammard nearly flew from her grasp. The weight of the Blade of Hallar dragged at her, pulled her off-balance.

  But Lady Callista was there to seize the opening. With a growl, the Lady of Blades drove a gauntleted fist into the demon’s face. Black steel tore a chunk of mangled flesh and iron from Tethum’s cheek. The demon roared in pain and stumbled backward.

  Right into Aisha, who lashed out with her short-handled spear. The assegai punched into Tethum’s side, spraying dark blood.

  As the demon spun toward Aisha, Kodyn was there, his sword slashing a deep gouge across Tethum’s side, slashing the muscles of his arms. Growling, Tethum spun toward Kodyn. His strike slammed into Kodyn’s chest and knocked him off-balance. A backhanded blow at Aisha sent the Ghandian leaping backward to avoid the razor sharp edge of Tethum’s flammard.

  Tethum spun to attack Lady Callista, but Issa was there with the Blade of Hallar to knock it aside. Suddenly, a third figure appeared. Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres himself, clad only in his royal robes and grim determination, wielded the flammard Tethum had dropped in his attack on Issa.

  A fierce smile broadened Issa’s face as she waded into the next attack. Side by side, the three of them—father, mother, and daughter—battled to bring down the ancient creature that threatened their city.

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Evren tried to banish the bitter taste from his mouth, but it proved near-impossible. His eyes never left the dagger in Lady Callista’s hand—the Im’tasi blade he’d lifted from the Pharus’ belt, his only chance of completing his mission in Shalandra.

  He’d come all this way to steal the Blade of Hallar, only to discover it in the hands of Lady Callista. The Lady of Blades would die before yielding the weapon; even if she knew the full truth, Evren couldn’t be certain she’d consider giving it up.

  The sight of the blade clutched in Hallar’s hand, the one Tethum claimed had belonged to him, had filled him with hope, renewed his determination. He couldn’t go back to the Hunter empty-handed—he’d come all this way to find and capture a blade that would aid the Bucelarii in his mission to save the world. A part of Evren had hoped it would earn him a place by the Hunter’s side, prove he was worthy to hunt and destroy demons.

  But now he battled a demon, a hideous thing of mangled flesh, fury, and unbridled hate. Faced with the demon’s monstrous evil and the threat to his friends, he’d made the only choice he could.

  He had given up the Im’tasi blade to save his friends.

  After everything he’d endured—endless battles, fleeing for his life more times than he could count, exhaustion, hunger, fatigue, pain, and injuries—Evren had held the object of his desire in his hands, only to give it up at the last moment.

  The Iron Warlord’s blow had nearly knocked him senseless, but when he recovered enough to stand once more, he’d found Issa battling the Iron Warlord alone. The Blade of Hallar gave her a fighting chance, but Tethum had clearly been seconds from getting the better of her. Few mortals could face an Abiarazi and live.

  Evren had seen Lady Callista struggle to her feet, fighting back the pain, all in a desperate attempt to save her daughter.

  That particular twist of fate still proved difficult to believe. Issa, daughter of the Pharus and Lady Callista? Now that’s one I never saw coming!

  The Lady of Blades had never doubted, never wavered in her desire to join Issa in the battle against Tethum. Evren knew that even good Shalandran steel would do little against the demon. Iron would slow him down—as evidenced by his mangled face, filled with shards of iron that likely slowed his healing, embedded so deeply into the bone that he might not have been able to pull them free.

  No, the only hope of putting Tethum down once and for all was with the Im’tasi blade.

  The weapon would do him no good, would do the world no good, if the demon triumphed and everyone in Shalandra died. If all of his friends died.

  Kodyn and Aisha. Issa, Lady Callista, even Hykos. Briana. Hailen. All of them had come to mean so much to him.

  The Blade of Hallar could kill the demon, but it was wielded by mortal han
ds. With two Im’tasi weapons, they stood a real chance of stopping Tethum.

  But not in his hands. He was no warrior. He had no armor, and his bare fists and plain steel jambiyas would do little more than infuriate the already raging demon. He also bore no Bucelarii blood—unlike Issa and Lady Callista, descendants of the half-demon that had founded Shalandra. The clue had been the Blade of Hallar choosing them—for the Im’tasi weapon to respond to her, Lady Callista had to have descended from Hallar as well. Through her veins, too, coursed the blood of the Abiarazi, watered down by thousands of years, yet strong enough to activate the Blade of Hallar. The alignment of her blood with the Pharus’ meant Issa inherited Bucelarii traits more strongly than either.

  The choice had been painful, yet painfully easy. He had to be like Hailen, like Briana, like Kodyn, Aisha, and Issa. He had to sacrifice his own wants and desires for the sake of the greater good.

  Now, he felt helpless as the battle raged in the stone chamber. He dared not hurl himself into the battle—the three whirling blades wielded by Issa, Lady Callista, and the Pharus would cut him down.

  Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres’ skill with the flammard surprised Evren almost as much as the discovery that Issa was the ruler’s daughter. The man held his own, though his lack of armor made him vulnerable to Tethum’s attacks. He hung in the rear, stepping in to push the Iron Warlord back from an opening in Lady Callista or Issa’s guard. The three of them had a chance of holding him at bay.

  They’ll never bring him down, though. Evren had seen the Hunter fight for hours. The demon’s stamina would far outlast the Blades and the Pharus. Even now, the Pharus’ strength had begun to flag, his blows coming just a fraction of a second slower. Lady Callista’s face twisted in pain; the heavy breathing of battle had to play hell on her bruised throat.

  No, if the battle lasted much longer, people would die. Only sheer luck had kept them alive this long.