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

by Andy Peloquin

  “They were way too organized for it to be a coincidence that Angrak commandeered Suroth’s mansion while we were speaking to the Pharus.” Kodyn folded his arms. “After we received a message summoning us to the palace on a false pretext.”

  “Damn!” Evren shook his head. “You know what you’re talking about, right? The Gatherers, I get. They’re in hiding, and they’re already the enemies of the city. But the Necroseti are the most powerful people in Shalandra. I’ve been here less than a week and even I know that’s like sticking your head into a lion’s mouth. You’re guaranteed to get bit!”

  He imagined trying to take on the Lecterns in Vothmot—the priests of the Master were revered by all, and they wielded just a fraction of the power and authority the Keeper’s priests had here in Shalandra. They’d have better luck kissing a venomous serpent or the Caliph’s favorite concubine.

  That didn’t seem to faze the three facing him. “Yes, but that’s why we need your brother’s help.” Lady Briana turned to Hailen. “We found my father’s journals with a lot of information on the Serenii, which might include information on how to use the Serenii artifacts you saved.”

  “Turn them into weapons to use against the Necroseti, you mean?” Hailen asked.

  After a moment’s pause, Briana nodded. “Yes.”

  Evren exchanged a glance with Hailen. After their earlier conversation, he couldn’t help seeing the boy in a new light. Hailen wasn’t just a child with extraordinary powers anymore—he was a young man growing into the knowledge of what he could do. Hailen had to make his own decisions here; all Evren could do was make sure Hailen got what he wanted.

  “And if I help you, then you’ll help us?” Hailen asked.

  “Absolutely,” Kodyn replied without hesitation.

  “Work with me to unlock the secrets hidden in these books.” Lady Briana tapped the leather-bound book. “Together, we have a chance of understanding what my father wrote down. And maybe, with the Long Keeper’s help, we’ll be able to find a way to get into the Vault of Ancients.”

  A strange expression crossed her face and she gave a little giggle.

  “What?” Evren asked.

  “It’s funny, ‘the Long Keeper’s help’.” She giggled again. “After what you just told us about the gods of Einan, it’s strange to think that we’ve been calling on the Long Keeper and the rest of the Thirteen like they can actually hear us or do anything.”

  Evren’s eyebrows rose. She’s taking this way too well, he thought. Everyone else the Hunter had told—Graeme and Father Reverentus included—had struggled with the revelation.

  “I guess that confirms my father’s theory,” Lady Briana said.

  “Theory?” Curiosity burned in Kodyn’s eyes.

  “That the gods never really existed after all,” Lady Briana replied simply. “It was based on something he found in his study of the Serenii. The Serenii spoke of ‘the creators’, but never any gods, definitely not something as concrete and well-defined as thirteen deities each with their own specific purpose.”

  Evren felt his own interest engaged. Like all apprentices in the Master’s Temple, the Serenii had fascinated him. He’d ached to know more about the ancient race that had died out thousands of years before—working with the Hunter and now Briana and the others gave him that chance.

  “Oddly enough,” Lady Briana continued, “I think the Long Keeper is the closest thing to a ‘real god’ that we may actually have.”

  Evren’s brow furrowed. “Why is he any different than the other Thirteen? He’s just one more of the Serenii worshipped by the humans.”

  “Maybe, but maybe not.” Lady Briana pursed her lips. “As far as we know, the Serenii were immortal…almost immortal,” she corrected herself with a nod to Evren. “But they still were fascinated with death, both what caused it and how to keep it at bay. If, as you say, they existed during what we know as the War of Gods, it’s very likely that they developed the fascination after watching wholesale slaughter of humans and demons.”

  Evren’s mind raced, yet he could follow her train of thought.

  “Perhaps that is what originated the belief in the Long Keeper.” The Shalandran girl’s tone was musing. “Sort of an anthropomorphization of this inescapable force as a means of understanding something incomprehensible.”

  “Anthro-pa-what now?” Kodyn looked as baffled as Evren felt.

  “Anthropomorphization.” Briana gave Kodyn a bright smile. “It means giving human attributes to something. A plant, an animal, or, in this case, death.”

  “Oh, I get it!” Kodyn’s eyes brightened. “Like how people believe foxes are devious or donkeys are stubborn.”

  “Or how Hawks fancy themselves cleverer than everyone else.” Aisha’s eyes twinkled and Kodyn scowled, though Evren didn’t understand the jest.

  “Exactly.” Briana nodded. “From what you’ve told us about the Devourer of Worlds, even Serenii magic couldn’t truly stave off death. It makes sense that they would respect and fear it.”

  “And that respect and fear was passed on to the humans living with them!” Triumph echoed in Evren’s voice as he made the connection. “So, like the worship of the other gods was based on the Serenii they lived with—”

  “Worship of the Long Keeper comes from the Serenii—and human—fear of death.” Briana gave Evren a pleased grin. “I know that doesn’t really help us figure out how to take down the Necroseti or the Gatherers, but I thought it was interesting.” Her smile turned shy.

  “Hey, I thought it was interesting, too!” Kodyn exclaimed.

  “But, like you said, that doesn’t get us any closer to getting into the vault or taking down your enemies,” Evren put in. “We’re going up against the most powerful people in Shalandra. We can’t do that on our own.”

  “No, but we’re not going to.” Kodyn gave him that confident smile. “The Necroseti made a mistake by sending us to speak to the Pharus. Arch-Guardian Suroth saved his life from the Gatherer attack. He’s going to pay his debt by helping us taken down the Keeper’s Priests.”

  “He said that?” Evren found it a bit hard to believe. From what he’d learned of Shalandra, the Pharus was little more than a figurehead, with the Keeper’s Council in full control of the city.

  Kodyn’s answer confirmed his suspicion. “Well, not in so many words. But he did say that he would do what he could to assist us in our endeavor.”

  Evren pursed his lips. “I guess, coming from someone in his positon, that’s as good as you’re going to get.”

  “Agreed.” Kodyn nodded.

  “And I can call on the Temple of Whispers for help,” Briana put in. “My father was beloved by many of the priests that served under him. I have no doubt they already suspect the Necroseti’s hand, and they have to be aware that the Gatherers are the ones responsible. When I ask them for help, they will give it.” She hesitated. “I hope.”

  “As a member of the Night Guild, I have a relationship with the Black Widow.” Kodyn grew thoughtful. “Though, if I don’t pay her a visit soon to apologize for standing her up yesterday, she might be less inclined to help us.”

  “Don’t forget that you need to deliver the item Suroth gave you,” Aisha spoke up.

  Evren raised an eyebrow, but none of the others seemed inclined to fill him in.

  “I might have someone who can help us,” he said. It seemed fitting that he offer to do his part—he was, after all, somewhat committed to this endeavor. For Hailen’s sake and the sake of the Blade of Hallar, if nothing else. “With information, at least.”

  “Who is this someone?” Kodyn’s expression grew skeptical.

  “His name is Killian.” Evren hesitated a moment. “He’s…a blacksmith.”

  Three blank expressions met his. Briana, Aisha, and Kodyn seemed unimpressed—more skeptical and dubious than anything else.

  “He runs a crew of children called the Mumblers,” Evren continued. “They gather information on everything, everywhere in the city.”


  The faces remained blank.

  Evren sighed. “He’s the one that got me and Hailen assigned to your father’s household.” There, he’d said it, the words he’d dreaded ever since they’d been discovered in Suroth’s office with the Serenii artifact.

  That had a starting effect on Kodyn. “What? I thought you said you were working for the Hunter of Voramis?” His face hardened and his hand dropped toward his sword hilt.

  “I am.” Evren leaned backward, rocking onto the balls of his feet in anticipation of a confrontation. “But when I got to Shalandra, I had no idea how I was going to get into the Vault of Ancients. I ran into this Killian, and he agreed to help me in exchange for…” He hesitated and drew in a deep breath. “…information on your father.”

  Briana’s eyes darkened, and Aisha took a threatening step toward him. “You’re a spy!”

  “Yes!” Evren raised his balled fists into a guard position. “Or, I was, because it was the only thing I could figure out to get me close to the palace and the vault.” He felt no shame, no need to apologize, yet somehow he actually wanted to convince these people to work with him rather than fight. He turned to Lady Briana. “But that’s how I knew that Samall and Kuhar, your father’s servants, were planning something. I tried to follow them to their hideout but—”

  “Hideout!” The words burst from Kodyn’s lips. He smacked his forehead. “I’m such a fool!”

  Evren trailed off, brow furrowing in confusion.

  “I can’t believe I forgot!” Kodyn threw up his hands. “I followed the Gatherers to their hideout on the Artisan’s Tier, which was how I overheard that they were planning an attack on the mansion. I’ve been so focused on what’s been happening that it slipped my mind.”

  Lady Briana’s eyes sparkled. “You know where a Gatherer hideout is?”

  “Yes!” Kodyn’s head bobbed.

  “Then what are you waiting for?” Aisha demanded. “Get there now and see if—”

  “It won’t do any good,” Evren said in a quiet voice.

  All three whirled toward him and demanded in unison. “What?”

  Evren shook his head. “Killian told me that the Gatherers never use the same place twice. It’s why he’s had such a hard time trying to track them down.”

  Three faces fell, radiating disappointment.

  “If they did use the hideout, they’ll be long gone by now.”

  “No.” Kodyn’s jaw took on a stubborn set. “I can’t just believe that. There’s no way that many people can just disappear without a trace.”

  Evren shrugged. “Suit yourself. I’ll go with you, if you want. Maybe we can find something.”

  A hint of suspicion flashed through Kodyn’s eyes. Evren met his gaze calmly—he’d just told them that he was a spy, so a bit of mistrust was to be expected. Yet, if they were to work together to achieve their mutual ends, they’d have to start trusting him. And he’d have to start trusting them, though that would prove much harder. Not for his own sake, but for Hailen’s. He could fight his own battles, keep an eye out for any daggers aimed at his back. But he couldn’t do that and worry about keeping Hailen safe. His only hope lay in earning their trust and forcing himself to trust them.

  “So be it.” Kodyn finally said with a nod. “We’ll go at first light.”

  “You want to wait until day?” Evren arched an eyebrow. “The longer we wait—”

  “Tracking is harder at night.” Kodyn shook his head. “I’m no Hound, so if we want any hope of finding anything, we’ve got to do it in daylight.”

  Evren shot a glance out the window. Daybreak was still hours off—he could use a bit of sleep after the last few intense days.

  “So be it.” He let out a long breath. “But we leave before dawn.”

  “Agreed,” Kodyn said. “The house is just west of Commerce Square. We can be there when the sun rises, then I’ll have time to meet up with the Black Widow.”

  “Maybe I should meet her, too,” Evren said. “After all, if we’re going to be working together, it might be worth introducing me to her. And,” he said as an afterthought, “I can introduce you to Killian. The blacksmith and his Mumblers are going to be crucial, at least when it comes to keeping eyes and ears on the streets of Shalandra.”

  “So you’ll help us, then?” Lady Briana asked. Hope shone in her eyes as she looked at Hailen. “Both of you?”

  Evren shot a glance at Hailen, who nodded. “Yes,” he said. The words came hard, but he spoke them anyway. “We’ll help you.”

  “Thank you.” Lady Briana stood and came toward him. “When we met, you were a servant in the house of a Dhukari. Now, you are the welcome guest and ally of a Zadii.” She held out a hand. “And, hopefully, a friend.”

  Evren shook her hand. “Pleased to meet you properly, Lady Briana.”

  “Just Briana now.” She gave a little laugh, humor tinged with sorrow.

  Kodyn held out his hand next. “Might be good to have a spy on our side now.”

  Aisha clasped his hand last. “You’ve joined a bloody difficult fight, but it’s too late to back out now.” She grinned. “By the looks of you, you’ve got the stones to do just fine.” She turned to Hailen. “Both of you.”

  Evren returned the smile. “Let’s just hope we live long enough to regret throwing in our lot with you all, eh?”

  He meant it as a joke, but even as the words left his mouth, he couldn’t help feeling like he’d just jumped overboard to save a drowning man, without so much as a scrap of floating debris to cling to.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Please.” The voice filtered into Aisha’s consciousness, pulling her from a dreamless sleep. “Do not let me be forgotten.”

  She awoke, dread coursing through her. The voice couldn’t belong to Briana, who slept on the bed. Nor Kodyn, Evren, or Hailen, who had taken up positions in the corridor or occupied the house’s second room.

  It belonged to the dead.

  Aisha fought the urge to return to sleep. She had accepted her calling as Umoyahlebe, a Spirit Whisperer. If the spirits called to her, she must answer.

  She sat up and opened her eyes, scanning the pre-dawn darkness of the room for the source of the voice. Her gaze fell upon the blue-white form sitting on the windowsill. A thin woman, perhaps in her third or fourth decade, with a delicate face and slim shoulders. Blue blisters dotted her body, and thin streams of crimson trickled from her eyes, nose, mouth, and ears.

  As Aisha’s mind slipped into full wakefulness, she could almost feel the veil to Pharadesi, the world of the Kish’aa, closing and cutting her off from contact with the spirit. The woman’s empty eyes fixed on her but Aisha could not hear the sounds from her lips.

  Aisha’s stomach tightened. She wanted to tell the spirit that she could do nothing, that she could not hear her pleas, but that would be a lie. She had a means of listening to the spirits—a means that would cost her dearly, as it had cost her father.

  Yet she had made her choice. Reaching into her pack, she drew a single bright blue Whispering Lily petal. She had only five more, and now that Angrak inhabited Suroth’s mansion, she had no way to replenish her store. She’d have to be sparing in her usage.

  She crushed the petal in her fist and swallowed the dried fragments. The fragrance filled her nostrils and the drop of aromatic oil coated her tongue. Slowly, the world around her fell silent, until only she and the spirit existed.

  “…not let me be forgotten.” The sound sharpened in Aisha’s ears, from a dull humming to a whisper, so faint as to be nearly imperceptible, yet clear as if the spirit spoke in her ear. No, not her ears—her mind. The Kish’aa communicated not through earthly means; their voices echoed in the thoughts of those attuned to hear them.

  Aisha shot a glance at the sleeping Briana, then whispered, “What is your name?”

  “So few to remember my name,” the spirit replied, her tone mournful. “Forgotten soon, lost to time. Lost before I have my vengeance.”

  “Veng
eance?” Aisha cocked her head. “You died of disease, did you not?”

  The spirit stood and her simple robes fell away, revealing a wasted frame covered with blue blisters that oozed pus. “Must have my vengeance.”

  Aisha felt her hand stretching out of its own accord, and the spirit floated toward her. The moment the blue-white form touched her hand, Aisha felt power flare to life within her finger. Like a jolt of lightning, it shot up her arm, through her shoulders, and into the core of her being, where it settled like a single glowing coal. When Aisha looked down at her hands, she could see the little spark of the woman’s life dancing through her veins. A faint pulse, yet present in the back of Aisha’s mind. The spirit’s desire for vengeance thrummed within her.

  But vengeance for what? Aisha didn’t understand what the woman wanted. She had succumbed to the same illness as the spirits that clustered around the Sanctuary. The blue blisters that rotted her from the inside out had killed her. There could be no vengeance against disease—it killed without distinction, uncaring of such mundane trifles as caste or rank.

  So why do all the spirits cry out for vengeance and justice, then? It made no sense, like so much of her gift. All she could do was fumble through the darkness, alone, trying to understand an incomprehensible power.

  She rose to a crouch and studied the windowsill where the spirit had been perched. Carved into the stone, she saw two names—Thimara and Uryan—joined together in a heart. As she read the name Thimara, she felt a jolt as if the spirit recognized its own name.

  So what is it that you want me to do, Thimara? Aisha glanced up at the spirit hovering near the window. Tell me, and I will—

  “Aisha?”

  Aisha whirled at the sound of Kodyn’s voice coming from the door.

  “Everything okay?” Kodyn’s brow was furrowed in mingled confusion and concern.

  Aisha nodded and slipped out of Briana’s room, careful not to wake the sleeping girl. She shut the door behind her and turned to Kodyn. “Just had a hard time sleeping, after everything that’s going on.”