Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

Hykos led her south, toward the staircase that ascended the tallest tower in the Citadel of Stone. With every step, the twisting in Issa’s stomach grew, her excitement mounting as her heart hammered a steady beat against her ribs. Up, up, four floors, until they reached the towertop Chamber of Absolution.

  Once again, Issa was struck by the dazzling beauty of the chamber. The brilliant glow of sunrise shone through the floor-to-ceiling windows, splashing the golden sandstone chamber with a display of light as magical as the power of the Serenii. The view of Shalandra—her city, now in more ways than one—stole her breath.

  Her gaze rose to the stern, scarred face carved into the peak of Alshuruq. Hallar, Shalandra’s founder, offspring of demon, servant of the Serenii, guardian of Einan, and Issa’s ancient forefather watched through midnight eyes, yet Issa somehow imagined his unyielding lips had turned up in a hint of an approving smile.

  She had no doubt about how those in the chamber with her felt. Lady Callista stood at the head of the small sandstone altar in the heart of the room, and even through her stern, solemn mien, Issa could see pride sparkling in the Lady of Blades’ eyes. Behind Lady Callista, Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres, beamed, as if the gravity of the ceremony paled before his joy.

  The sight of those two, the mother and father she’d dreamed of having but never dared hope to meet, flooded Issa with a brilliant bloom of warmth. A lump rose to her throat, and it took all her willpower not to let the joy filling her to the core burst out in a grin as wide and delighted as the Pharus’.

  Issa’s eyes went to the white-haired Blade standing beside the Pharus. The deep wrinkles around Aleema’s eyes and mouth etched with pride to mirror Lady Callista’s, accompanied by a faint hint of sorrow. Issa found herself wishing her Saba could be here to witness this, but the fact that her Savta had survived the battle with the Stumblers and stood here on this momentous day was gift enough.

  The black-bearded face of Killian the blacksmith—Elmessam, Ypertatos of the Keeper’s Blades—broke into a broad grin as she entered. A smaller figure in the shadow of the barrel-chested man dug an elbow into his ribs and muttered something that made Killian’s face go rigid.

  Issa’s eyes widened a fraction as she recognized the figure. Evren?

  And not just Evren. Hailen stood beside his brother, with Kodyn and Aisha accompanying them. To her disappointment, Lady Briana was nowhere in sight. Her duties with the Secret Keepers must have kept her away from the ceremony.

  Their presence came as a surprise. Few outside the Citadel of Stone were permitted entry to the Chamber of Absolution.

  On the other hand, she reasoned, the Anointing of the Blades is typically held for the public in the Hall of the Beyond. Lady Callista had insisted on holding it here—a choice that made sense, given the fraught relationship with the Necroseti that had survived the Stumbler assault. I wonder which of my friends talked my mother into letting them be here.

  Either way, it didn’t matter how it had happened; she was just glad they were here. She’d come to respect and admire the tenacity, resolve, ingenuity, intelligence, and skill of her new friends. After all they’d endured together, the battles they had fought side by side, it felt right to have them there.

  “Prototopoi Issa, Prototopoi Etai, step forward.” Lady Callista’s strong voice rang through the chamber.

  The Keeper’s Blades in the room—Invictus Dyrkton and the remaining Elders of the Blade; Tannard, who still bore the deep scars on his face left by Stumbler claws; Ormroth, Byrach, and more, both familiar and unknown—snapped to attention. Forty mailed fists clanked against steel breastplates in the martial salute.

  Issa shot a glance to the figure that stepped up beside her. Etai, stubborn as ever, had refused to wear her still-healing arm in a sling. The Mahjuri trainee’s jaw was set in a determined clench, but Issa knew her fellow prototopoi well enough to recognize the excitement sparkling in her eyes. In her place behind Etai, Chirak spared an encouraging nod before returning her attention to the ceremony.

  “You stand here, beneath the gaze of Hallar, our founder, and the Long Keeper himself, to receive the Anointing of the Blades.” Lady Callista’s face grew solemn as she spoke the ritual words. “You, who have received training and instruction in the ways of the Keeper’s Blades, do you stand willing to serve?”

  “I do!” Issa and Etai’s words rang out with strength and confidence.

  “You, who have been chosen by the Long Keeper, do you swear to bear true faith and loyalty to the Pharus, your commanding officers, and your fellow protectors of Shalandra?”

  “I do!” Issa straightened, a warm glow suffusing her body.

  Lady Callista’s dark eyes fixed on her. “You, who bear the mark of justice on your foreheads and stand clad in the armor of a Blade, do you swear to honor your city and all who live within its walls, to dedicate your lives to its growth, its increasing, and its defense, from this moment until the Long Keeper calls you to his arms?”

  Issa met her mother’s gaze without hesitation. “This I swear,” she and Etai spoke the ritual words in unison, “in life and in death.”

  A proud smile tugged at Lady Callista’s lips, but she managed to wrestle her expression into submission as she looked to the two figures behind Issa and Etai. “Archateros Hykos, Archateros Chirak. What have you to say for your prototopoi?”

  Chirak stepped forward first. “She is willing and able, Proxenos.”

  “She is steadfast and loyal, Proxenos.” Hykos’ voice rang out beside Issa.

  “She is virtuous, trustworthy, and capable,” both spoke at the same time. “She will serve and defend, upholding the honor of the Keeper’s Blades, the Pharus, and the Long Keeper.”

  A lump rose in Issa’s throat, but no sorrow, only burning, overwhelming joy. She struggled to control the smile threatening to break out. It didn’t matter that they were the ceremonial words—hearing them from Hykos’ lips elated her. His faith and trust in her echoed in his voice.

  “Prototopoi Issa, Prototopoi Etai.” Lady Callista’s eyes turned back to the two of them. “You have proven yourselves capable of serving the Long Keeper and his city, yet the final decision is not ours to make. You must be chosen.”

  She unslung the two-handed flammard from her back and unsheathed it. The black steel blade rippled in the morning sunlight, sturdy and dependable, yet a sword as ancient as the city itself.

  “Step forward, Prototopoi Etai.” Lady Callista gripped the Blade of Hallar by the ricasso and held it out. “Place your hand upon the Blade of Hallar and see if you are worthy.”

  Etai hesitated only an instant before marching around the golden sandstone altar. She stopped before Lady Callista and reached out to grasp the hilt of the flammard. A heartbeat passed and nothing happened. Issa’s gut clenched, worry for Etai thrumming deep within her.

  Issa gritted her teeth. She has to be chosen!

  Suddenly, the gemstone set into the crossguard flared to life. The translucent stone deepened to a soft ruby red that illuminated Etai and Lady Callista. Etai tensed, her body going suddenly rigid, as if from the power that Issa had felt coursing through her veins when she first gripped the Blade of Hallar.

  Issa released the breath she’d been holding.

  Lady Callista nodded. “The Long Keeper has spoken!”

  “Hail, chosen of the Long Keeper!” Forty voices lifted in salute, and forty fists clanked against steel breastplates.

  A beaming Etai turned away from Lady Callista and marched back toward Chirak. Together, Archateros and prototopoi took their place among the other Blades.

  “Step forward, Prototopoi Issa.” Lady Callista held out the sword. “Place your hand upon the Blade of Hallar and see if you are worthy.”

  Issa marched forward without hesitation and gripped the hilt firmly. Again, the little pinprick to her hand, followed by an instant of stillness as the Blade of Hallar consumed her blood.

  Suddenly, the Blade’s gemstone brightened and a dazzling crimson light washed o
ver the room. Issa stifled a gasp as vitality and strength infused every fiber of her body. Power burned in her veins and set her muscles twitching. Her heart hammered against her ribs, beating with such force she felt she could run a thousand leagues and fight a thousand enemies without tiring.

  The Keeper’s blessing, the Blades called it. Yet in truth, it was the blessing of a far less divine being. Hallar had given her the gift of his blood, his abilities as the offspring of demons. To many, it could be considered a curse to descend from creatures of nightmare. Issa saw it differently. Whatever its origin, she would use it as Hallar intended—in defense of his city.

  Through the blinding brilliance, she met her mother’s gaze, then her eyes roamed over the other faces in the chamber. Her father. Savta. Killian. Evren, Hailen, Kodyn, and Aisha. Ypertatos Ormroth, even Invictus Tannard.

  She would accept this blessing, the duty placed on her shoulders by Shalandra’s founder and her distant ancestor. Hallar had given everything to defend the city, to protect it from human and demon alike.

  And Issa, daughter of the Pharus and Lady of Blades, chosen of the Long Keeper, would do the same. In life and in death.

  * * *

  “Wait,” Kodyn whispered, “you’re saying that every one of the Keeper’s Blades has Bucelarii blood?”

  Hailen hesitated a moment before nodding. “It’s the only way I can explain it.” His face scrunched up in contemplation. “Like what Briana said about the red roses sometimes blooming white, or my Melechha blood thousands of years after the Serenii disappeared.”

  “Atavism,” Kodyn said. He remembered that discussion in the Vault of Ancients; much of it had gone over his head, but he’d grasped the general idea.

  “Exactly.” Hailen nodded. “Somewhere in their family history, everyone in the Keeper’s Blades has a relation to Hallar himself. That trace of Bucelarii blood is what gives them their abilities, some more than others, I guess.”

  Evren gave a warning hiss as two gold-and-white-clad servants appeared around a corner and hurried past, arms laden with piles of ornate cloth. Rebuilding efforts in the palace and the rest of the city remained in full swing more than a week after the battle with the Stumblers, and would likely require many months more to complete. Between the Indomitables rampaging through the Slave’s Tier, the riots in the Cultivator and Artisan’s Tiers, and the tide of Stumblers sweeping across all of Shalandra, the city had suffered extensive damage.

  Yet hope remained. Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres had committed to restoring Shalandra, requisitioning the Necroseti fortunes stored in the Hall of the Beyond. The Keeper’s priests had handed it over—grudgingly, with about as much griping as was expected from men in their positions—but the release of the Divinities from the Pharus’ dungeons had gone a long way toward placating the priests.

  When the servants had passed, Evren shot a warning glance at Hailen. “Maybe that’s a tidbit best kept just to ourselves, yeah? Not everyone’s going to be thrilled to learn that their ‘Keeper’s blessing’ is really watered-down blood of demons.”

  Hailen shot Evren a scathing glance. “Gee, Evren, I could never have thought of that myself. I was absolutely planning to shout it from the palace roof, along with the fact that I’m descended from the Serenii and that you came here to steal a prized relic.”

  “All right, all right, I get it.” Evren rolled his eyes. “Keep your voice down. We’re not exactly in private here.”

  Palaces tended to have an abundance of eyes and ears, Kodyn knew from his experience in the Night Guild. A good deal of his mother’s gold found its way into the pockets of servants, chambermaids, and attendants serving King Ohilmos and Duke Phonnis.

  Hailen shot Evren a wry grin, which elicited a scowl.

  “You save the world once,” Evren muttered, “and it goes straight to your head!”

  “Twice!” Hailen held up two fingers. “That’s twice now.”

  “I’m pretty sure you can’t take credit for this one, too,” Evren retorted. “We all did.”

  Hailen’s grin widened from ear-to-ear. “Sure, you helped…a little.”

  “Keep running that mouth of yours, smart-arse.” Evren shook a clenched fist under the boy’s nose. “See what that gets you.”

  A smile broadened Kodyn’s lips. The sibling banter reminded him of his mother’s stories of Werrin and Willem, apprentices from her days in House Hawk. A part of his mind wished he’d had a brother, someone as close to him as Evren and Hailen were.

  But, in a way, he had something far better. He turned to his left and shot a glance at Aisha, who was grinning at Evren and Hailen’s antics. The Ghandian was a friend he could count on in any situation, a strong support, someone who had the irritating tendency of being right on issues of morals and matters of the heart.

  She had saved him far more times than he could count. Over the last few years, he’d endured Bryden’s petty spite and torments because he had her to lean on. Their friendly rivalry had pushed him to his limits and beyond in training with Master Serpent, and he was a better fighter and thief for it. Yet during their ordeals in Shalandra, she had been the one who kept him from losing his head, from throwing himself into dangerous situations out of anger. He had survived everything because of her.

  He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Everything was better with her in it. Yet now, with his Undertaking complete and her discovery of her Spirit Whisperer powers, he had no idea where their paths led next. And a part of him dreaded the moment they’d discuss it.

  The sight of the figures in the hall ahead saved him from having to think about it at that moment. Issa and Hykos marched through the gold-and-silver-tiled corridors, evidently in the same direction they now traveled—toward the Pharus’ private residence in the palace’s northeastern wing. The summons had come before they’d gotten halfway across the Keeper’s Tier after Issa’s Anointing ceremony. It seemed the Lady of Blades and the Pharus wished to speak with their daughter and her trainer as well as Kodyn’s little crew.

  “Well look at that!” Kodyn’s jaunty call rang up the corridor. “If it isn’t Shalandra’s newest Keeper’s Blade!” He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve even heard she’s the daughter of the Pharus and Lady Callista.”

  Issa’s grin widened. “Not much of a secret anymore, is it?”

  Kodyn shrugged. “Let’s just say the people of Shalandra are quite pleased to find their Pharus is as predisposed to the more…human pastimes than his eminent sovereignty suggests.”

  Issa narrowed her eyes and her smile faltered, threatening to turn into a frown.

  “What he means to say,” Aisha put in, digging a sharp elbow into Kodyn’s ribs, “is that Shalandra is glad the Pharus has an heir. That fact that she’s also the daughter of their courageous Proxenos, slayer of Stumblers, just makes it all the more enjoyable for them to gossip about.”

  Issa’s smile widened once more. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “We were summoned,” Kodyn said. “Not much more information than ‘Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres commands your presence’. You?”

  “Same.” Issa glanced at Hykos. “Though we were summoned by the Lady of Blades.”

  At that moment, they rounded the corner that led to the ornately etched, gold-plated double doors to the Pharus’ private chambers.

  “I guess we’re about to find out,” Evren said.

  Kodyn had noticed the shadow in the young man’s eyes, deepening over the last few days. He knew Evren’s giving up his mission to steal the Blade of Hallar factored into the gloom, but Briana—or her marked absence—also contributed. When Hailen had spoken of Briana’s vow to become a Secret Keeper, Evren had remained silent, yet the tension in his face, the droop of his shoulders spoke volumes. He’d spent most of the last week eating, sleeping, sharpening his jambiyas, poking at Hailen, and visiting the now-open Tomb of Hallar to keep a close eye on the imprisoned Tethum.

  Maybe that’s what the Pharus and Lady Callista
want to talk about. The two had been careful who they let in on the secret of the Tomb of Hallar and the Vault of Ancients. They’d insisted that Kodyn and Aisha remain in Shalandra until the Anointing of the Blades—not only for Issa’s sake, he guessed, but to give them a chance to figure out how best to deal with everything they’d uncovered in the last few weeks.

  Issa’s voice snapped Kodyn from his thoughts. “Nysin? Enyera?” Delight echoed in her tone. “What are you doing here?”

  Kodyn focused on the two black-armored Indomitables guarding the golden double doors. He’d seen them before, fighting beside Issa during the battle against the Gatherers on the Artisan’s Tier.

  “Enjoying the reward of our bravery and courage,” the man said, his voice tinged with a note of irritation. “If I’d known that would involve long hours of standing around and waiting for my legs to go numb, I’d never have been so damned heroic.”

  “Heroic?” The woman snorted. “You call nearly getting your skull caved in heroic, Nysin?”

  “Saved you from getting clobbered by those Stumblers, didn’t it?” Nysin shot back. “Not the first time, either.”

  “Don’t you dare go making a habit of it!” Enyera glared daggers at him. “Or I’ll drag you into the Fortress training yard and beat that foolishness out of you.”

  A grin broadened Kodyn’s face. That’s either going to end with a happily ever after or a dagger between the ribs.

  Nysin muttered a retort Kodyn didn’t quite catch, then turned and pushed open one of the double doors.

  The Pharus’ suite was about as ostentatious and lavish as Kodyn had expected. Velvet-covered couches, bloodwood tables and chairs adorned with gold leaf, colorful Al Hani carpets, and silk hanging curtains seemed to make the room sparkle. Kodyn’s thief-trained mind worked to calculate how much everything in the chamber would cost and gave up—even Darreth, his mother’s trusted aide and bookkeeper, might not know how to count that high.

  Four figures awaited them within the chambers. Pharus Amhoset wore a simple white robe threaded with gold trim, but on his broad-shouldered frame and handsome face, they appeared as luxurious as the finest Malandrian silk. Lady Callista stood beside the Pharus, a solid wall of spiked black steel. Kodyn noticed Evren tensing, his eyes locked on the Blade of Hallar in its sheath on the Lady of Blades’ back.