Crucible of Fortune: An Epic Fantasy Young Adult Adventure (Heirs of Destiny Book 2)

by Andy Peloquin

  In silence, Rothin took up guard outside the front door, and Hykos joined him. Without a word of command from Briana or instructions from Nessa, the grey-haired servant set about straightening up while the cook bustled into the kitchen. The Steward said something about “fetching light before the markets close” and disappeared.

  Briana climbed the stairs stiffly, as if she feared she would collapse when she relaxed her muscles. Aisha winced as the stairs creaked beneath her weight, but they held…barely.

  The top floor held two rooms, bedrooms both, with a bed in each. A few ratty blankets lay atop the straw-tick mattresses. Canvas sacks had been dumped on the floor beside the bed in one of the rooms—all of Briana’s earthly belongings, tossed like refuse.

  Aisha shot a glance at Kodyn as she followed Briana into the room. “Stay,” she signed. With a nod, he took up guard position outside the door.

  Closing the door, Aisha turned to Briana. The girl stood before the bed, a quiver running through her body. Her fists were clenched so tight her hands were white to the wrists.

  Aisha stepped toward the girl and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Briana.” She could think of nothing to say—how could she offer any sort of comfort after what the girl had endured, what she’d lost? From the cherished daughter of a powerful man to a scorned orphan with nothing to her name, all in the space of a few hours. Aisha could only squeeze Briana’s shoulder and offer the silent support of her presence.

  Suddenly, Briana sagged, like a marionette whose strings had been severed. Aisha barely had time to catch the girl before she hit the floor. Sobs racked Briana’s shoulders and tears streamed down her face. Aisha held the girl close, her arms wrapped around Briana.

  “How dare they?” The question spilled from Briana’s lips, repeated over and over as her tears soaked into Aisha’s tunic.

  Aisha ached to offer words of consolation, but she could find none. She reached deep within herself, searching in vain for any spark of Radiana’s life left within her. The emotions she’d felt the previous day were so strong, the words from Briana’s mother spilling from her mouth with a force beyond her control. Yet she could find no trace of Radiana’s energy. Aisha was alone, and she could do nothing but hold the girl as she wept. Long minutes passed as Aisha offered the only comfort she could: her presence. For now, that had to be enough.

  Slowly, the flow of Briana’s tears dried up. After a few minutes, the girl pulled free of Aisha’s arms and settled with her back against the bed, scrubbing at her cheeks. Her cheeks were puffy and the occasional sniffle racked her body, but through the sorrow in Briana’s eyes, Aisha caught a glimpse of defiance and anger.

  “That was meant to break me,” Briana said, barely above a whisper. “The Necroseti want me gone. They know that my father still has influence in the palace even after his death. But the only way they’re getting rid of me is by killing me.” Sparks flashed in her gaze. “And I still live!”

  Aisha grinned. “A mistake they will soon regret.”

  “By the Long Keeper, we will make them pay!” Briana reached for Aisha’s hand and gripped it with all her strength. “We will not stop until every damned Necroseti and Gatherer suffers for this.”

  Aisha climbed to her feet and helped Briana to stand. “Glad to hear it. So where do we start?”

  “With my father’s journals.” Briana released her hand and strode from the room. “My father didn’t just keep detailed notes on everything he studied. He also collected information to use to sway people to helping him.”

  “Blackmail?” Aisha cocked an eyebrow. Who better than a Secret Keeper to wield secrets like a weapon?

  Briana shook her head. “He said that was the Necroseti way, but he would not stoop to their level.” She opened one sack and set about rummaging through the clothing. “Instead, he kept notes that he could use to help people. He convinced them to help him by giving them what they needed. Last year, for example, when Orril’s daughter took sick with Star Malady, my father had his Secret Keepers brew up an antidote. Or when Grand Lectern Wormoren of the Master’s Temple needed assistance deciphering an ancient riddle hidden in one of Taivoro’s plays, my father was the only one that could solve it.”

  Aisha smiled. “He really was a good man, your father.”

  Briana straightened, her own smile tinged with sadness. “A good man in a world ruled by the Necroseti.”

  She set about checking the next sack, her movements growing more and more frantic.

  “What’s wrong?” Aisha asked.

  “My father’s journal.” Worry echoed in Briana’s voice. “It’s not here. Or any of the Serenii artifacts from his office.”

  Aisha’s eyes flew wide. “You’re certain?” She rushed over to the one sack Briana hadn’t yet checked and dumped it onto the bed. Briana’s elegant clothing lay within, but no sign of the leather-bound journal.

  “Maybe downstairs?” she offered.

  Panic staining her expression, Briana ripped open the door, burst into the hall, and raced down the stairs.

  “What’s the matter?” Kodyn asked as Aisha rushed past hot on the girl’s heels.

  “Her father’s things are missing!” Aisha called. “All of them.”

  With a curse, Kodyn raced after them.

  “Where are they?” Briana’s voice had taken on a frantic edge. “Where are my father’s things?”

  “My lady?” the grey-haired man looked up from sweeping away a mountain of dust, confusion on his face.

  Aisha scanned the sparse area. Everything was covered in a thick layer of dust, save for a trail of footprints that led up the stairs.

  “My father’s belongings!” Briana fairly shouted, anger and panic seeping into her voice. “The things from his study. His books, parchments, everything else? Where are they?”

  Nessa flinched. “Forgive me, my lady, but I haven’t seen…”

  Briana cried out—an animal sound, half-sob, half-angry howl—and charged from the room.

  “Briana,” Aisha called, racing after the girl. She pursued Briana through every room in the house until she finally caught up to the girl in the kitchen. Briana sat on the floor, a hopeless look in her eyes.

  “They took them.” Fresh tears glimmered in her eyes and her face had gone pale. “They took everything I have left of my father.”

  “Not quite everything,” came a voice from the door at the rear of the kitchen.

  Aisha’s heart leapt into her throat, her hand darting toward her assegai. Yet she stopped as her eyes fell on Briana’s pale-skinned bodyservant.

  Hailen smiled. “I got some of it out.”

  He held out a small cloth sack and through the open mouth, Aisha caught a glimpse of a leather-bound book and small, black stones etched with Serenii runes.

  Chapter Twelve

  Evren’s right fist flashed out, catching Annat on the jaw. Annat staggered back, swaying on his feet. Evren spun right, tearing his left arm free of the thug holding him. He brought his left elbow back around a moment later. The sharp tip crashed into the bridge of the thug’s nose, shattering cartilage. Warm blood spattered Evren’s elbow and the man fell back with a cry of pain.

  Even as the first thug sagged, Evren brought the knife edge of his right hand whipping upward into the throat of the second thug, the one that had held his right arm. His blow crunched into the man’s windpipe. The thug fell to his knees, gagging and struggling to breathe.

  A roar from his left snapped Evren around in time to see Annat charging him. His eyes still wobbled but there was nothing uncertain about the knife in his right hand. Evren had no time to dodge, so he did the only thing he could: he snagged the first thug’s arm and hauled as hard as he could. The thug was so focused on his broken, bleeding nose that he fell forward, off-balance. Right into the path of the thrusting dagger.

  The man cried out and clapped a hand to his side, where blood gushed from a wound intended for Evren. His huge hands entangled Annat for a split second—more than long enough
for Evren to bring his foot up and drive his boot into the fork of Annat’s legs. The Syndicate Crewman gave a weak, strangled cry and fell, clutching himself.

  That was all the opening Evren needed. He turned and sprinted away, back up the alley in the direction of the street that led toward the Artificer’s Courseway. The Hunter had pounded the lesson into him over and over: never get into a knife fight that you can run from.

  His feet pounded on the Artificer’s Courseway in time with his hammering heart. How the hell did the Ybrazhe Syndicate find me? His mind raced. They hadn’t snatched him when he left Killian’s, but it had been close enough that they could have spotted him visiting the blacksmith and lain in wait. That meant the Ybrazhe knew that he was working with Killian. Doubtless, they’d have people watching the smithy, both to monitor Killian’s movements and to catch Evren.

  Watcher’s teeth! He growled an inward curse as he ran. If they track me back to Suroth’s mansion, we could wind up facing a whole new threat on top of the Gatherers and the Necroseti.

  For a moment, he contemplated collecting Hailen from the Arch-Guardian’s estate and fleeing Shalandra. He couldn’t focus on stealing the Blade of Hallar if he was dodging both the Ybrazhe Syndicate and trying to bring down the Gatherers. Hailen could very well be in serious danger if they found out where Evren served.

  He discarded the idea. Hailen wouldn’t want to leave now that he’d found the trove of Serenii knowledge Suroth had collected. He was too stubborn—a trait he’d inherited in abundance, and had honed thanks to the influence of the Hunter and Kiara, two of the most headstrong people on Einan—to accept that the smart play here was to run.

  And Evren couldn’t leave Shalandra without the Blade of Hallar. He didn’t give two horse droppings about disappointing the Cambionari that had sent him; he wanted the Im’tasi weapon to give to the Hunter to aid in his quest. He couldn’t go back empty-handed.

  Which means I’m just going to have to double my precautions. He’d take more circuitous routes, find unseen ways to access Killian’s smithy, and be twice as wary of being watched or followed.

  A crowd of people ahead drew his attention. He slowed down to avoid drawing notice to himself. Yet he had nothing to fear; the eyes of all in the crowd were fixed on something in the distance. A small procession descended Death Row, a finely-dressed, tight-faced young woman in their lead. Evren’s eyes widened as he recognized Briana, bare-headed, her lips pressed into a white line. Kodyn and Aisha hovered a step behind her, an unfamiliar Keeper’s Blade and Rothin flanking them, with two more servants bringing up the rear.

  Confusion seethed in Evren’s mind. What the hell is going on? Worry twisted his stomach as he scanned the crowd behind Briana. And where is Hailen? Judging by the fire in Aisha and Kodyn’s eyes, the situation was dire. If something had happened to Hailen—

  He felt a surge of relief as his eyes fell on a small, pale-skinned figure slipping quietly through the crowds twenty paces behind the procession. Hailen, quiet and careful, following the others, with a small cloth sack in his arms and a determined look on his face.

  Evren watched Hailen tailing the others—with surprising skill, it turned out. The boy wasn’t quite ready to attempt picking pockets among the crowds of Vothmot’s Court of Judgement or Voramis’ Divinity Square, but he was doing everything right. He moved with the flow of people, his pace slow enough not to stand out while still covering ground at a brisk speed. He’d never blend into a crowd with his violet eyes, light pink skin, or the gold-and-green headband marking him as a Dhukari’s servant, but he kept his head down while still managing to watch the people around him.

  Evren grinned. Good for you, Hailen! He’d spent long hours training the boy in the ways of moving about a busy city unseen.

  Evren almost went to the boy, but a thought stopped him in his tracks. What if I haven’t lost the Ybrazhe thugs pursuing me?

  He’d beaten down Annat and his two men long enough to escape, but what if that had been a ruse? The Syndicate might have wanted to distract him with the threat of violence so he’d be so busy fleeing that he wouldn’t notice more people tailing him. If anyone was watching him, they’d immediately connect him with Hailen, thereby putting the boy in danger.

  Curiosity burned within him as he watched Briana and her companions pass. He had to find out what was going on and where they were going, but he couldn’t join up with the others until he was certain he wasn’t being followed. He slipped into the crowd ahead of Lady Briana and matched his speed to theirs, keeping just ahead of them and out of their line of sight.

  With every step, he scanned the people surrounding him for any hint of threat. At this late hour, the crowds had thinned enough that he could quickly scrutinize and evaluate each passerby for any sign of threat. He held his breath as he glanced down the side street where he’d left the Syndicate thugs. Thirty paces away, Annat and his two companions stumbled down the alleyway toward the Artificer’s Courseway.

  Evren quickened his steps until he’d passed the alley, then ducked out of sight in a street that ran parallel to where he’d spotted the Syndicate. He peered around the corner and watched the three limping onto the main avenue. Sure enough, two men in dull Earaqi clothing detached from the crowd gathered around Lady Briana’s entourage and hurried toward Annat. Annat’s dark expression and the way the two spotters shook their head meant Evren’s precautions had worked to shake them.

  He watched, breath bated, as Hailen slipped past the Syndicate thugs. They didn’t so much as glance at the young, pale-skinned boy. Evren finally breathed a sigh of relief as Annat and his crew headed east along the Artificer’s Courseway, away from him and in the direction of Death Row.

  They’re probably planning on watching that road, like they did last time. When he’d almost been caught outside the Ybrazhe hideout on the Slave’s Tier, the Syndicate had set thugs to guard Death Row—the main avenue that led up the hill to the higher tiers. If they’d known where to find him, they’d probably spotted his gold-and-red headband, so they expected him to head uphill toward the safety of the Keeper’s Tier. The plan might have worked, had Evren actually intended to return to Suroth’s mansion. Hailen and the others were headed west, toward the Temple District, so that’s where Evren needed to go.

  He hurried to catch up to Hailen, but hung a few paces back just to watch what the boy would do. He’s got skills, I have to give him that.

  Hailen had grown a lot in the last few years. Parts of that happy, innocent child remained, but he’d also grown in more ways than Evren had realized until just a few days ago. He’d lost much of his fear, gained confidence, and had grown stronger by shouldering the burden of his Melechha heritage. Now, to discover that he was brave enough to take on a thug holding a knife to his throat or the skill to weave through a crowd with the dexterity of a thief, filled Evren with a sort of relief.

  He’d worried that he would have to spend every moment watching over Hailen. He’d agreed to serve in Arch-Guardian Suroth’s household in part so Hailen would have a safe place. Yet now he realized that he didn’t need to protect Hailen as much as he’d expected. The boy could look after himself. He’d still need Evren, but less as a guardian to hide behind and more as a comrade to fight beside.

  The thought brought a little lump to Evren’s throat. Hailen was growing up in more ways than just age. A part of him felt excited—he’d always wanted a younger brother, a friend and companion. Before Hailen, the closest he’d come to having a sibling had been Daver, a younger apprentice in the Master’s Temple in Vothmot. Yet another part of him felt sorrow at the knowledge that the innocent child would one day be replaced by a man. And not just any man free to live a normal life, to choose whatever path he desired. The fate of the world rested in Hailen’s hands—a heavy weight for even the strongest to bear.

  As he hurried through the thinning crowds, Evren was surprised to find Briana’s procession turning north, down a side street that led toward the cliff face. Where in the twis
ted hell are they going? And why do they look so furious? He’d missed something big, that much he knew.

  He hung back far enough to evade notice as Kodyn opened the door to a seemingly random house, then Briana and the others trooped inside. Rothin and the unfamiliar Keeper’s Blade took up guard positions by the front door.

  Confusion twisted his face into a frown as he studied the huge black-armored man. But what happened to that other one, Issa? And what are they doing down here with all those servants?

  His eyes darted to Hailen, who had hung back, out of sight of Rothin and the Keeper’s Blade. To Evren’s surprise, Hailen didn’t head toward the front door. Instead, he slipped down a side alley, one that ran parallel to the Artificer’s Courseway.

  Now where is he going?

  Curiosity burning, Evren followed Hailen’s path. He caught a glimpse of the boy disappearing around another corner, and suddenly Evren understood.

  He’s going around into the back entrance! He grinned. We’ll turn him into a proper thief one day yet.

  He hurried to follow in Hailen’s footsteps, out of instinct clinging to the shadows of the two- and three-story stone buildings. He wouldn’t take any chances that a Syndicate spotter would catch sight of him, not so close to Hailen and the others.

  Rounding the corner, Evren found himself in an alleyway that cut along parallel to the base of the cliff face. A short distance away, Hailen was reaching up to open the back door of the house Lady Briana and the others had entered.

  Evren hurried forward in time to hear Hailen say, “Not quite everything. I got some of it out.” He held out the sack he’d been carrying. “I saw those guards coming and heard them say, ‘Get to his study!’ I guessed they wanted his Secret Keeper stuff, so I got it out of there quickly. I’ve been following you since—”

  A cry sounded from within the house. Ice froze in Evren’s veins. He leapt forward and covered the distance to Hailen in ten quick steps.