Storm of Chaos

by Andy Peloquin

  No! Aisha screamed in her mind. I refuse to believe that. You found out what this was before it killed you. You have to help me stop it before it kills him.

  She racked her brain, replaying every conversation she’d had about the Azure Rot. She sucked in a sharp breath as she recalled her last conversation with Uryan.

  Destroying the poison requires an immense amount of heat,” the Guardian had said, “such as generated by an open flame or a smith’s forge. But that would burn the victims’ skin long before it counteracted the toxin. Such heat needs to be generated from the inside out to have any effect.”

  A thought slammed into Aisha’s mind with staggering force. What if I could burn it from the inside out?

  She turned her attention to the Secret Keeper within her. Thimara, if I channeled you into his body, could you burn out the poison?

  Silence met her question.

  Speak, damn you! Aisha nearly ripped the pendant from her neck with the force of her anger. You asked for vengeance against your killers, and I gave that to you. You wanted to share a final message with Uryan, and I did that. Now you’re going to do something for me. You’re going to help me save Kodyn.

  Risky, came the hesitant response. Such power could kill him.

  But could it save him? Aisha demanded.

  Yes. Again, hesitation and silence. The margin between life and death is too fine for me to calcu—

  He doesn’t have time for calculations or hesitation! He’s dying now. Help me save him. You owe me that much!

  After a long moment, reluctant acceptance radiated from Thimara’s presence. So be it. I will do what I can. But I will need help from the others.

  Others? Aisha was about to ask, when she realized who Thimara was speaking of: the other Kish’aa she had absorbed at the Sanctuary.

  How many? she asked Thimara.

  All of them, came the reply.

  Do it! Aisha gripped the pendant and reached for the spirits she had absorbed. She summoned them from deep within her, commanding the sparks of life to rise from the core of her being, pushing them toward her fingertips. A hundred images of lives lived and deaths suffered flashed before her eyes as the Kish’aa clamored in her mind.

  Spirits of the dead, heed me! She clenched her jaw as she spoke. You have been avenged against your murderers.

  Not these, protested one.

  Others, echoed a second voice.

  Aisha drove on, heedless of their protests. Her father had said, “Only Umoyahlebe with a will of iron can control the spirits.” At that moment, with Kodyn’s life on the line, Aisha’s willpower could stop a speeding arrow in its tracks.

  Be that as it may, we have stopped them from killing more people. Your friends, family, loved ones, neighbors, they will all live on because of us. You will be remembered long after you are gone, because of us. Because of him. She gripped Kodyn’s hand tighter. His skin had gone clammy, a weak tremor running through his fingers. You will help me save him, just as he helped to save your family.

  Stubborn refusal, hesitation, and doubt echoed from the spirits within Aisha. Each had their own desires and wishes they wanted her to fulfill.

  I do not request, Aisha thundered in her mind. I command. I am Umoyahlebe, and the dead will heed my call!

  For a heartbeat, she felt herself torn in half—her own unbending resolve battled with the pull of so many spirits swirling within her. Yet she would not back down, not with Kodyn’s life on the line. She steeled herself and forced the Kish’aa to heed.

  Suddenly, the resistance shattered and the internal war quietened. She had won the war of wills.

  So be it, came the quiet reply. Command us, speaker for the dead.

  Thimara! Aisha summoned the Secret Keeper’s spirit. Tell them what to do. Tell me what to do.

  For answer, Thimara’s spark flared bright and hot, surging toward Aisha’s fingers. But she was not alone. Five, ten, twenty more blue-white lights danced up the veins of her arm and through her hands.

  Aisha felt her muscles move of their own accord, Thimara controlling her body. Her fingers grasped Kodyn’s left arm just above the elbow and squeezed. Thimara’s spark leapt from her hands to Kodyn’s arm. Blue-white light sizzled up his bicep, through his shoulder, and disappeared beneath his armor. Suddenly, the Hawk began to twitch on the ground. Fear thrummed within Aisha as his shuddering jerks turned to writhing, convulsing.

  Please! She clung to Kodyn’s arm for dear life. Please let this work!

  She didn’t know who she spoke to—the Kish’aa couldn’t hear her, and the gods of Einan were nothing more than myth. Yet at that moment, she needed the hope that Kodyn would be all right.

  More and more of the blue-white lights leapt from her fingers into Kodyn’s body. His thrashing grew so violent that Aisha feared he would hurt himself. She gritted her teeth against the threatening tears—she had to be strong for his sake.

  It took every ounce of effort to grip his arm, to keep forcing the Kish’aa to heed her commands. Finally, the last of the energy drained from her body and she fell back, gasping. Sweat drenched her clothing and her forearms ached from clinging to Kodyn, but she could see the sparks of light sizzling through his body.

  Slowly, the acidic bite in her stomach faded and the pain receded. The flow of lightning cut off and the blue-white lights of the Kish’aa grew dark. Kodyn’s jerking slowed, his muscles growing slack. He lay silent and still on the ground. His chest remained unmoving, his body as lifeless as the corpses around him.

  “K-Kodyn?” She said his name aloud, as if it could summon him from the beyond.

  Nothing. A fist of iron clutched at her chest, crushing her heart. Please, she begged again. Please bring him back to me.

  Sorrow welled up within her. She gripped his arm tighter but Kodyn gave no answer.

  No. A weak protest, barely more than a faint internal gasp. No, he can’t be gone.

  Silence. The poison had claimed him. She’d arrived too late.

  Suddenly, Kodyn jerked upright and sucked in a gasping, ragged breath.

  “Kodyn!” Aisha threw her arms around him and pulled him into a hug.

  “Wha...?” He sounded confused, dazed.

  Tears streamed from Aisha’s eyes now—tears of joy. Kodyn lived. The Kish’aa had saved him.

  Thimara’s spirit materialized above Kodyn, a delicate, ghostly figure of blue-white.

  Thank you, Aisha told the Secret Keeper.

  With a radiant smile, Thimara dissipated from view, her soul carried off to Pharadesi on an ethereal wind.

  The rest of the Kish’aa appeared moments later, two dozen men and women, old and young, even a pair of young children. One by one, they bid their silent farewell to her and faded before her eyes. They passed into the beyond, until Aisha remained alone in the Heartspring with only the living for company.

  No, not alone. A single spirit remained in her pendant. A weak spirit, small and shy, like a child afraid to venture forth from her mother’s skirt. The image of a beautiful young girl flashed through her mind—no more than five or six, with a bright smile and dancing eyes. Eyes that had now gone cold and empty as the Azure Rot claimed her alongside her mother, father, and baby brother.

  “Aisha, what…happened?” Kodyn sounded puzzled.

  Aisha pulled out of the embrace. “You got poisoned.”

  “No, I know that.” Kodyn looked down at his sodden clothing. “But how…” He lifted his eyes to her. “What did you do?”

  Aisha swallowed hard. “Th-The Kish’aa saved you. They burned the poison from your body.”

  “Whoa.” A little twitch ran through Kodyn’s fingers. “Is that why I feel like I just got hit by lightning?”

  Aisha chuckled. “To be fair, you kind of did.”

  Relief bathed her like a cool breeze on a blistering summer day. She felt as if she’d run a thousand leagues; channeling the Kish’aa had drained her energy. Yet she feared that if she closed her eyes or turned away, she would find Kodyn once
more lying dead on the floor.

  “Does it hurt?” she asked. If she didn’t speak, she might give in to the emotions swelling within her.

  “Sort of.” Kodyn flexed his fingers. “But it also feels like I can run a hundred mile race without stopping.” He leapt to his feet with his usual agility, rolling his shoulders and giving a few experimental swings of his arms. “Damn, is it weird to say that this is the best I’ve felt in days?”

  Aisha smiled as she stood. “That’s good to hear, considering the alternative.” Her smile turned to a frown—she’d come within a heartbeat of losing him.

  Kodyn stepped toward her and swept up her hand. “But, thanks to you, I’m still here.” A bright grin broadened his handsome face. “If this is the reason Ria sent you to Shalandra, I’m pretty sure ‘saving someone’s life’ totally counts as fulfilling your Undertaking.”

  Aisha’s grin mirrored his. “Yeah, I guess it does, doesn’t it?” She and her House Master hadn’t set any precise task, but Ria would understand. How to explain it to the rest of the Night Guild—Master Gold, in particular—that remained to be seen.

  Aisha glanced down at the barrel that had fallen beside Kodyn. The fall had cracked the wood, and the thick, clear liquid now leaked across the stone, slithering like an adder toward the water’s edge.

  Not a bloody chance I’m letting that happen! She ripped the hem of the Gatherer’s robe and cautiously soaked up as much of the liquid as she could. Kodyn tore off more fabric and set about helping her pushing back the viscous poison before it could reach the Heartspring.

  A sharp intake of breath sounded from a few paces away. Aisha’s head whipped up. Robban, the Secret Keeper in command, stood nearby, her eyes fixed on the body beside the shattered barrel of poison.

  “What is it?” Aisha asked.

  “Look,” Robban signed. “Look at his clothing.”

  Curious, Aisha turned to look at the body of the fallen Gatherer. Beneath his dark grey Gatherer cloak, he wore another set of robes—robes of pure black trimmed with threads of gold.

  “Keeper’s teeth!” Kodyn gasped from beside her. “Is that—”

  Robban nodded. “He is Necroseti.”

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Kodyn’s mind raced as he stared down at the body of the Gatherer he’d killed. No, he corrected, not a Gatherer. A Keeper’s priest.

  There was no mistaking it: no one else in Shalandra dared to wear the black and gold of the Necroseti.

  Kodyn crouched over the body and pulled open the Gatherer’s cloak. Despite the red Earaqi headband, the man was too well-fed to be laborer caste. He lacked the paunch of the Keeper’s Councilors, but the heft around his midsection made it plain that he’d missed only a handful of meals in his entire life. Compared to the lean Earaqi or the wasted Mahjuri, the man was positively plump.

  Either the man was Necroseti before joining the Gatherers, or he’s still a Keeper’s Priest. His mind raced at the implications of the discovery. But why the hell would the Necroseti want to poison their own water supply?

  He glanced up at the Secret Keeper. “Do you recognize him?”

  Robban frowned down at the body and shook her head. “The Keeper’s Priests number in the thousands.” She glanced around. “Yet perhaps one of the others…”

  Snapping her fingers to get the other Secret Keepers’ attention, she relayed silent orders for her comrades to search the bodies. Kodyn and Aisha helped to strip off the Gatherer cloaks and turn over the bodies for the Secret Keepers to search. Of the twenty-odd cultists, five wore the black-and-gold of the Necroseti, while the rest wore the typical dark cloaks, faded tunics, and simple knee-length shendyts of the Gatherers.

  Confusion warred within Kodyn. He couldn’t decide if these were actually Gatherers or Necroseti masquerading as the cultists.

  Or, could it be a bit of both? The thought drove an icy spike home in his gut.

  Councilor Madani and his cronies had proven cunning, and it seemed just their sort of tactic to manipulate the Gatherers to their own ends. Kodyn had found evidence of the Necroseti working with the cultists in the hideout he’d found on the Artisan’s Tier. The shred of black cloth wouldn’t indicate who among the Necroseti were working with them, but it was undeniable proof.

  What if the Keeper’s Priests have been playing the Gatherers all along? They could have sent some of their own priests to “join” the cultists, and manipulate them from within.

  Pieces clicked into place in his mind, and everything that had happened took on a sinister new light. Briana and Suroth had believed the Keeper’s Council had a hand in Briana’s kidnapping—what if they had manipulated the Gatherers into abducting her? Their plan might have gone awry when Necroset Kytos fled Shalandra to Praamis, or that could have been the original intention all along.

  Briana’s return had spurred them to act, hence the attack on Suroth’s mansion and the Palace of Golden Eternity. The Council would never have been in any real danger because they were controlling the Gatherer assassins. They might have simply targeted Suroth, the Pharus, or both, and their presence was simply a smoke screen to throw off suspicion.

  And that explained how the assassins knew the secret ways to not only get into the palace via the Serenii tunnels, but also here, tonight. If, as Robban had said, only a select few within the Hall of the Beyond knew of the Heartspring’s location, it meant only high-ranked Necroseti could have divulged the secret.

  He relayed his suspicions to Aisha and Robban, and both seemed to concur. The evidence against the Keeper’s Council had grown too substantial to ignore.

  A snap from one of the Secret Keepers caught their attention. “Robban,” signed the brown-robed woman. “I recognize this one.”

  The three of them hurried toward the priest, who crouched over an unmoving Gatherer. She had opened the man’s robes to reveal the black and gold tunic beneath. “Turwar.” Her fingers spelled out the letters of his name. “One of Tinush’s retinue.”

  Kodyn sucked in a breath. High Divinity Tinush was the highest-ranked Keeper’s Priest and the eldest member of the Keeper’s Council.

  “Was he Purged with Kytos and the rest?” Robban asked.

  The Secret Keeper shook her head. “I saw him just weeks ago in the Necroseti’s box in the Crucible.”

  Kodyn whistled. “Keeper’s teeth!” That confirmed his suspicions. The Keeper’s Council is controlling the Gatherers.

  Suddenly, Turwar stirred and opened his eyes.

  Hope surged within Kodyn. “He’s alive!” The priest had been so still that he’d believed the man dead.

  A profusion of emotions danced across Turwar’s round face: shocked surprise, outrage, indignation, and a hint of fear as he recognized the Secret Keepers. He opened his mouth to snarl something at the priests.

  Robban silenced him. Her graceful lethality and speed paired with impressive power, and the open-handed blow cracked into Turwar’s temple. The priest fell back, his head striking the ground with a loud thwack. He lay still, unconscious. On Robban’s order, one of the Secret Keepers quickly bound and gagged the senseless Necroseti.

  Kodyn turned to the Secret Keepers. “We need to get him to the palace. Lady Callista and the Pharus need to know that the Keeper’s Council is behind the Gatherers’ attacks.”

  Robban exchanged glances with the other woman. “You’re certain that is the right choice?”

  Kodyn cocked an eyebrow. “You don’t trust the Lady of Blades or the Pharus?”

  “I trust them to do what they believe is best,” Robban replied in the silent hand language. “Whether they are seeking the best for Shalandra or for themselves, that remains to be seen.”

  “Suroth trusted the Pharus,” Aisha cut in. “He was working with the Pharus to take down the Keeper’s Council, which is probably why they went after him in the first place.”

  Robban frowned. “Perhaps,” she said after a long moment of contemplation.

  “Think about it!” Kodyn pressed. “Ri
ght here, we have evidence of the Necroseti not just working with the Gatherers, but actually leading them. Even if the Council tries to cast doubt on our word, there’s no way around the testimony of eight of the Mistress’ priests.”

  “But we’ve got to be smart about it,” Aisha put in. “He’s a Keeper’s Priest, and if he’s serving the Council, they’re going to protect him. We’ve got to get him to Lady Callista without the Necroseti finding out that we have him.”

  Before Robban could answer, a new sound echoed from behind them: booted feet thundering on stone.

  Kodyn whirled toward the bridge, hand dropping to his sword hilt. Ice seeped into his veins as he caught sight of another cluster of dark-cloaked figures racing toward them. Five of the thirty-odd Gatherers carried wooden casks on their shoulders. The rest wielded drawn swords and daggers. With a cry of “For Hallar!” the cultists charged the cluster of Secret Keepers.

  Robban spun toward the woman beside her. “Go!” Her fingers moved in sharp, short commands, her face filled with urgency. She thrust the green gemstone into the other priest’s hand. “Get them to the palace, Desenne!”

  Indecision rooted Kodyn in place for a heartbeat. Eight Secret Keepers stood against four times their number of Gatherers. His money was on the Mistress’ priests, but he hated the idea of leaving them to fight alone. The Heartspring would close in an hour, and the Gatherers would be too late to infect it with their poison. Every instinct screamed at him to draw his sword and join Robban and the others in battle.

  Yet the Keeper’s Council couldn’t go unpunished.

  Damn it! Gritting his teeth, Kodyn stooped and hefted the unconscious priest. He had the proof to bring down the Necroseti and get justice for all those that had died because of Madani and his cronies. The Gatherer attack here wouldn’t be the end of the Council’s villainy—he had to ensure that the Keeper’s Priests could never bring suffering to Shalandra through their machinations again.

  “We’ll hold them off!” Robban insisted, her face as hard as the stone beneath her feet. “They won’t get their foul poison to the Heartspring. But you get Turwar to the palace.” The muscles of her jaw worked as she gritted her teeth. “For Suroth!”