Ascension of Death

by Andy Peloquin

  Imbuka had severed the tethers binding the spirits of the Blades’ victims to their swords. If she could do that with the Stumblers, she’d have all the power she needed to defeat the creatures. Hells, she might even be able to free them all from their nightmare un-death, send their spirits on to Pharadesi and restore their bodies to peaceful rest.

  She stretched out a hand toward the creatures, but a frown furrowed her brow. Where were the ghostly figures, the blue-white forms of the dead hovering above the bodies? Where were the Kish’aa?

  Confusion set her mind racing. But the legends said…

  Realization slammed into her with the force of a runaway wagon. She knew what had felt wrong from the first moment she laid eyes on the Stumblers.

  She sucked in a breath and the words burst from her lips “They’re not truly dead!”

  Chapter Nine

  The sight of the Keeper’s Council in chains numbered among the most satisfying things Issa had seen in her seventeen years of life. Scuffed, grime-covered steel really did wonders to spoil the opulence of their black and gold robes. Even Councilor Madani’s arrogant demeanor had shattered the moment the Keeper’s Blades snapped the shackles around his wrist.

  Now, the five Councilors sat around the same broad table they had cowered behind the night of the Gatherer attack on the palace, the night Issa had saved Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres’ life. Perhaps simply being in the room where they'd come a heartbeat from death subdued their typical arrogance.

  Issa straightened as the door opened and Lady Callista entered the room, with Invictus Dyrkton at her back. Though the Lady of Blades’ expression revealed nothing outwardly, Issa recognized the spark of delight that shone in her eyes.

  Lady Callista marched to the head of the table and settled into a comfortable stance, strong arms folded across her armored chest. She said nothing, simply fixed a stern gaze on the rotund priests.

  The threat to his life and his current predicament had cowed Madani, but it seemed he hadn’t reached the limits of his self-importance. He drew himself up as tall as he could manage while remaining seated. “Callista, I don’t know what your novice thinks she’s doing, but—”

  “Shut your mouth, Madani,” Lady Callista snarled, “for once in your miserable life. Listen to what I have to say, then decide how you want to speak.”

  The greying, hook-nosed priest’s face darkened. “Callista—”

  “Shut it!” Lady Callista slammed a gauntleted fist on the table, cracking the wood. Madani and the other Councilors recoiled from the fury in her eyes. “For twenty years, I’ve waited for this day. The day when you finally overextend your reach and trip up. Now that we’re here, I want nothing more than to see each and every one of your heads decorating a spike in Murder Square. It’s only by the grace of the Pharus that you still live. So still your vile tongue until I’m finished.”

  Madani purpled, outrage flitting across his pudgy face, yet wisely he chose to hold his peace.

  Silence hung thick in the room. Lady Callista’s eyes roamed the faces of the men arrayed before her. The humor had fled her eyes; only wrath and scorn blazed there now.

  “I know of your involvement with Councilor Angrak and the skimming from the shalanite mines.” Her voice held a cold, hard edge that made Tannard seem warm and cuddly by comparison. “And of your compact with the Ybrazhe Syndicate. Blackfinger himself sits rotting in the Pharus’ dungeons, and he was more than eager to give me everything I need to incriminate you of your treason.”

  “Before what governing body?” Natoris sneered. He, unlike Madani, seemed disinclined to hold his tongue. “You have no authority to make such decisions, Callista. We are the rulers of Shalandra, chosen of the Long Keeper.”

  “Spare me the diatribe, Natoris,” Lady Callista snorted. “You may have wrested the power from Mordus Khemnu Nephelcheres, but by the laws of Shalandra, Amhoset Nephelcheres is still the final word of judgement in the city. And, in case you’d forgotten, I and the Elders of the Blade are fully within our power to assume control of Shalandra.”

  “In times of war!” protested Natoris.

  “Look around, you fool.” Lady Callista shook her head. “We are at war. With ourselves. With the very people you swore to serve, to protect, to guide in the Long Keeper’s truth and wisdom. People that you and your Syndicate thugs stirred into revolt, all to turn against the Pharus.”

  “You cannot—”

  “Prove it?” Lady Callista cut him off with a slash of her hand. “As if Blackfinger’s word was not testimony enough, we also have captured one of your own, Necroseti Turwar.” Her lip curled up into a snarl. “He proved stubborn at first, but days without food and water will break even the hardest of men. He, too, decried your role in recent events. From your alliance with the Ybrazhe Syndicate to your plot to unleash the Azure Rot on the people of the Slave’s Tier and Cultivator’s Tier.”

  The statement shocked Issa. She’d seen the people suffering, starving, their bodies wasted away by the foul blue blisters. And the Keeper’s Council had been behind it all?

  “My Blades have spent the last months digging into every dark corner in Shalandra, turning over every stone.” Lady Callista’s eyes narrowed. “Did you truly believe you could hide your misdeeds forever? The truth of what the Gatherers, your former priests, had in store for my city?”

  Issa’s mind flashed back to a conversation she’d overheard her first day as a Keeper’s Blade. One of the senior Blades had spoken of Tannard leading a “special crew of killers hunting down the Gatherers”. It had been dismissed as simply a rumor, yet it made sense that Lady Callista would set the cold-hearted Invictus to hunting down the cultists, set him against the Keeper’s Council in secret.

  “No!” The protest came from Madani, and it echoed with the same panic that filled his eyes. “We had nothing to do with the Gatherers!”

  “You expect me to believe that?” growled Lady Callista.

  “They were Purged,” Madani insisted. “Banished from our holy order for their misguided belief in the Final Destruction.” He glanced at the others for confirmation. The other four Councilors raised their voices in protest.

  When the clamor died down, Madani continued, his voice ringing with a note of fanatical zeal. “We simply intended to bring order and devotion to Shalandra, to restore our city to rightful worship of the Long Keeper. Kytos and his group of madmen planned to take things too far. We could not let them usher in the destruction of Shalandra, so we exiled them, blocked all access to the temple’s resources.”

  “And in doing so,” Lady Callista spat, “you created a new enemy, one that even you could not defeat.”

  Issa’s eyes widened a fraction. The Lady of Blades had known the Gatherers weren’t connected to the Necroseti, yet by accusing them of being responsible for the cultists, she’d deceived them into admitting to the other crimes of which they stood accused.

  Madani seemed to realize the truth as well. He swallowed, his face going a shade paler, sweat trickling down his brow. Yet he refused to back down. “The day I stand judgement before the Long Keeper, I am confident that he will judge my actions as just. I have dedicated my life to serving him, to bringing the people to worship of the god of death the best way I know how.”

  “By killing your own people?” Lady Callista snarled.

  “There is no life without death.” Madani’s expression settled into the familiar priestly, paternal one that twisted Issa’s stomach. “For the city to be blessed by the Long Keeper’s Face of Joy, there is no escaping the Faces of Change and Sorrow. The Azure Rot was the Keeper’s tool, a scourge to the wicked and a warning to the righteous. The suffering endured by our people is the hand of the Long Keeper, used to guide them down the path of piety.”

  Issa clenched her jaw. They hide behind the Long Keeper? Anger flared bright and hot in her gut, churning like Dalmisa’s lava pits.

  “This city has fallen into sin,” Madani drove on, his rotund face set in a stubborn frown. “A
den of vice and iniquity, where men and women have forgotten who rules in this life and the next. We only acted out of a desire to restore godliness to Shalandra.” His eyes dropped to the table, his voice falling quiet. “It simply got out of our control. We intended to stir up protest, to force the Pharus’ hand. But everything—the riots, the deaths, now this strange plague of monsters—we could never have foreseen it.”

  “Consider it the price you pay for taking the Long Keeper’s justice into your own hands,” Lady Callista growled. “You are the Keeper’s servants on Einan. Servants, chosen to serve, not to rule. A mistake that will soon be amended.”

  Five faces turned toward her, eyes flying wide.

  “You cannot have a Shalandra without the voice of the Long Keeper!” Councilor Madani’s shrill voice echoed loud in the room. “Without his guidance, the city will return to godlessness and evil.”

  “On that, we can agree.” Lady Callista nodded. “The Pharus has no intention of removing the Keeper’s Priests. As to the role you will play in the future of Shalandra, however, that is up to the Pharus to decide.”

  The Councilors raised their voices in protest, but Lady Callista ignored them, turned to the nearest Keeper’s Blades. “Take them to the Pharus’ dungeons.”

  The black-armored warriors saluted. “Yes, Proxenos.”

  “Please, Lady Callista—” Madani began.

  Lady Callista rounded on them, eyes blazing. “The time for words is over. Now, all you can do is pray to the god you claim to serve, Priests.” She snarled the word. “Perhaps the Face of Mercy will look kindly on you. But when the Pharus decides your fates, it will be the Faces of Justice and Vengeance that he seeks for advice.”

  Issa struggled to hide her smile as she watched the ashen-faced Councilors led away.

  Invictus Dyrkton bowed to Lady Callista. “Allow me to escort them personally to their new home.”

  Lady Callista nodded, and the Elder hurried out after his men.

  Only Issa remained, standing by the door, with Hykos opposite her and Lady Callista standing before the table. The Lady of Blades stood in silence, her arms folded across her armored chest, a solemn expression on her face. Yet, as the door closed behind the departing Elder, she let out a long breath and leaned on the table, closing her eyes.

  “It is over.” She spoke in a quiet voice, solemn yet triumphant. “We have won.”

  Now Issa allowed a grin to spread on her lips, and Hykos returned her smile. After so much disaster and suffering, it felt good to win a battle.

  “But Shalandra’s troubles are not yet passed.” Lady Callista lifted her head, and worry sparkled in her eyes. “This new enemy at our gates will prove far more difficult to defeat. Our forces are scattered, our battle lines stretched thin. The fight to come will not be an easy one, even with the Council out of the way.”

  “We will triumph, Proxenos.” Hykos’ voice rang with a confidence Issa didn’t quite feel. She had seen the hordes of Stumblers, had come within a heartbeat of succumbing to the creatures’ grasping talons and snapping jaws. Lady Callista was right; this new enemy would be the greatest threat they had yet faced.

  Lady Callista smiled. “As always, your optimism is welcomed, Archateros. As is your courage.” Her gaze darted to Issa. “It is good to have you with us once more, Prototopoi.”

  Suddenly, everything came crashing down on Issa. The threat of the Keeper’s Council had passed. They were safe within the palace walls. Now, she stood before Lady Callista. Her mother. A multitude of questions assailed her, so many that her head spun and her mouth refused to form words. She found herself suddenly tongue-tied. The truth looked her in the face and she could not summon the strength to speak.

  “Archateros,” Lady Callista was speaking, though it seemed her words came from a vast distance, “ask Evren to step in here, if you will.”

  Issa barely heard the door open and close. She seemed frozen in time and space, unable to tear her eyes from Lady Callista.

  My mother. The thought echoed in her mind with shattering force. A name and face to put to the nameless, faceless figure she’d dreamed of so many times in her life.

  “Mother!” The word burst from Issa’s lips with a force beyond her control. The numbness shattered and Issa found she could breathe again, could feel the fires coursing through her limbs.

  Lady Callista, however, seemed frozen in shock. Her mouth hung open, her eyes wide, gaze fixed on Issa.

  Heat rose to Issa’s cheeks. She hadn’t intended to say anything, yet the fires within her had burned too hot for her to ignore any longer. She had so many questions that only the woman before her could answer.

  “What did you say?” Lady Callista asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

  “You…” Issa croaked, her throat suddenly dry. She swallowed hard and forced the words to come out. “Are…my mother.”

  If she’d had any doubt, they vanished in that moment. The sudden pallor and the look of utter shock on the Lady of Blades’ face confirmed the truth.

  The door opened and closed, and Hykos appeared with Evren on his heels. Issa couldn’t tear her eyes from Lady Callista. She was lost in this impossible, wonderful, terrible moment. Everything else faded until only she and the Lady of Blades remained.

  “One minute.” Lady Callista spoke to Evren and Hykos in a quiet voice, yet her eyes never left Issa. “I must speak to Issa. Alone.”

  Hykos said something Issa didn’t hear, and the door opened and closed again.

  Issa tried to speak, but no words came out. She had dreamed about this moment her entire life yet had never truly believed would come true. Now that she was here, she could think of nothing to say.

  What do you say to the woman who abandoned you?

  Chapter Ten

  Horror turned Kodyn’s blood to ice. Stumblers!

  Heart hammering, he leapt backward, out of reach of the creature’s grasping hands, and nearly stumbled over the Secret Keeper behind him.

  “Back!” His words came out in a croak, fear parching his throat. He swallowed and shouted again, loud enough to set the stone walls ringing. “Back into the temple!”

  Desenne hesitated an instant, until she caught sight of the monstrosity lurching up the tunnel behind Kodyn. Immediately, she whirled in the opposite direction, her fingers flashing. In an instant, the Secret Keepers were a blur of motion racing back the way they’d come.

  Kodyn raced close on their heels, his mind racing. How the hell did they get into the tunnels? The creatures had been locked away in Groebus’ underground laboratory. Had they escaped in the fire he’d started? No, that didn’t seem possible. There were far too many of the foul things outside the temple for them all to have come from just that one room.

  The question was: where had they come from? Somehow, they’d entered the underground network of Serenii tunnels. And not just the main passages, but the secured ones, such as the tunnel that led directly into the Temple of Whispers.

  Someone had to have opened the way for them. Only one explanation made sense. Hallar’s Warriors.

  The militants, doubtless operating on the Iron Warlord’s commands, had opened the tunnels and made way for the Stumblers. It was another concerted attack on the Temple of Whispers. Tethum wanted the artifacts needed to open the Vault of Ancients, and he’d unleashed a flood of monsters on the city to get them.

  Damn it!

  He raced up the stairs into the Temple of Whispers, and the stone slab rumbled shut behind him. Yet, even as it closed, he knew it would only hold out the Stumblers for so long.

  The Secret Keepers seemed to have reached the same conclusion. Robban was already relaying orders in the silent hand language, stationing ten of the brown-robed priests at the entrance to the secret passage. Two more hurried from the room, and Kodyn followed on their heels. As he left, he almost imagined he heard the scratch, scratch of monstrous fingers clawing at the underside of the stone.

  Suddenly, the golden glowstones in the temple dimme
d to a bloody crimson, and the ringing of an alarm bell echoed through the stone hallways. The change in atmosphere stunned Kodyn, so much so that he was nearly trampled by the rush of priests emerging from scores of doorways that opened along what had once been a blank hallway. Kodyn caught sight of bedchambers, rooms filled with bookshelves, and alchemical laboratories, but he had no time to contemplate. He had to find Ennolar.

  The Arch-Guardian appeared through a stone opening at the end of the hallway, hurrying toward Robban as fast as his pudgy form permitted. “What is the meaning of the alarm?” he demanded in the silent hand language.

  “Stumblers, in the tunnels!” Robban’s fingers responded.

  “Bloody lots of them!” Kodyn interjected. “That slab of stone is only going to hold them off for a few minutes. If they somehow stumble across the lockstone or enough of them start trying to open it, they will get through.” The vault door at the front entrance might be able to withstand a siege, but as Hallar’s Warriors had proven mere hours earlier, the temple was vulnerable from the inside.

  A fact the Iron Warlord somehow knew. How, Kodyn couldn’t possibly begin to fathom. The Iron Warlord seemed to know everything: from the secret of the Vault of Ancients to the Serenii tunnels. Ennolar had sworn that none of his Secret Keepers would betray their oaths, and Arch-Guardian Suroth had trusted his priests beyond a shadow of doubt.

  So how the hell did the Iron Warlord find out about it?

  At that moment, with the threat of the Stumblers outside and inside the temple, Kodyn had bigger problems.

  “We need to get out of the temple before they break in,” Kodyn said. “Tell me there’s another back way out, another secret tunnel that only you know about.”

  “No.” Ennolar shook his head.

  Kodyn swore. “Fine, then we’ll figure out—”

  “No, we will not abandon the Temple of Whispers.” Ennolar’s face hardened. “We are sworn to protect the Mistress’ secrets with our lives, and our deaths, should it prove necessary. Besides, the temple is not without defenses.”