Ascension of Death

by Andy Peloquin

  Issa blushed, her golden-skinned cheeks turning a furious red. Yet a sparkle of joy brightened her eyes.

  “So there is no need to conceal the truth from anyone.” Without releasing Lady Callista’s hand, the Pharus stepped closer to Issa and rested his hand on her shoulder. “The truth of the three of us. Family, united after all these years. Tell me you do not wish it as much as I do?”

  Lady Callista’s eyes darkened. “The people—”

  “Will love you both all the more for it,” Aleema put in from where she stood off to the side of the chamber. “Their Pharus and Lady of Blades, saviors of Shalandra, fallen in love.” She shook her white-haired head. “Now there is a tale that not even Taivoro himself could surpass.”

  Kodyn stifled a snorting chuckle at the mention of the erotic playwright—the last name he’d expected to hear from the lips of Issa’s kindly-looking, aged grandmother.

  “Mother?” Issa stared at Lady Callista—to Kodyn’s eyes, a slightly older, more mature, yet nearly identical version of the young Keeper’s Blade. “What say you?”

  For a moment, Lady Callista hesitated. Worry shadowed her eyes and furrowed her brow. Yet, after long seconds, the tension faded from her face. “So be it.” She squeezed the Pharus’ hand and stepped close to Issa, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “I will leave it to you to make the announcement to the people, Amhoset, and I will ensure the Blades are—”

  The Pharus cut her off mid-sentence by throwing his arms around her shoulders and kissing her—a kiss that lasted for long, loooong seconds before he broke off. Kodyn caught a glimpse of Issa’s expression, a mixture of embarrassment and bright joy.

  “About bloody time.” A low mutter came from the fourth person in the room, the simply dressed man lounging on a plush sofa, followed by a noisy crunch. Killian, the black-bearded smith, munched on an apple as if heedless he sat in the presence of Shalandra’s monarch. Kodyn guessed his lack of solemn reverence had something to do with the fact that he was, in truth, a Keeper’s Blade named Elmessam, operating a network of information-gathering street urchins in service to the Pharus and Lady Callista.

  Now why does that sounds so familiar? Kodyn’s eyes flashed to Killian. Not the only secret he’s been keeping from us.

  As the Pharus dropped Lady Callista’s hand, the Lady of Blades turned toward Hykos. “Go, summon the Elders to my office, and I will address them as soon as we have finished here.”

  Hykos gave a sharp salute. “Yes, Proxenos.” Despite his military response, delight twisted his face into a bright smile as he turned toward the door.

  “And Hykos!”

  The Archateros stopped mid-step and turned at the Lady of Blades’ call.

  Lady Callista’s eyes narrowed. “When I am done with the Elders, you and I must have a conversation of a very serious nature.” Her gaze flashed toward Issa.

  Hykos colored at that, a red so deep it would have been the envy of any rose. “Yes, Proxenos,” he muttered, and hurried from the room.

  When the door closed behind the departing Keeper’s Blade, Lady Callista’s severe expression shattered and gave way to a wry smile.

  Poor Hykos! Kodyn shook his head. He’s in for a rough go of things now. The young man had definitely chosen the wrong young woman to fall for. Let’s just hope his Keeper’s Blade training toughened him up enough that he’ll survive dealing with parents that have to be the most powerful people in Shalandra.

  The Pharus turned a questioning glance on Lady Callista, but the Lady of Blades shook her head with a dismissive wave. “I will explain later, my Pharus.”

  After a moment of hesitation, the Pharus seemed to accept her words. When he turned back toward Kodyn, Aisha, Evren, and Hailen, his good humor faded and gave way to a solemn severity. “I have given the matter of your presence in Shalandra a great deal of thought.” His dark eyes moved between the four of them. “Given your true purpose for being in my city, you can understand why it required careful deliberation as to how to…respond.”

  Kodyn’s gut twisted into tight knots. We’re definitely not getting a heroes parade or showers of gold. He’d been nervous about the moment; despite how the situation had ended, the four of them had come to Shalandra with less-than-honorable intentions.

  The Pharus eyes’ locked on Kodyn. “Is it true you came to Shalandra to steal the Crown of the Pharus?”

  Kodyn hesitated. “That’s not quite—” He snapped his mouth shut as the Pharus held up a hand.

  “Let me rephrase.” The Pharus’ brow furrowed. “Is it true that you came to Shalandra to steal the Crown of the Pharus to complete…” He trailed off in thought, and his gaze darted to Killian. “What did you say it was? An Undertaking?”

  The blacksmith inclined his head.

  “An Undertaking, a test of your skill as a thief in the Night Guild of Praamis.” Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres fixed a stern gaze on Kodyn. “Is this true?”

  After a moment, Kodyn nodded. “It is. But if it helps, I had no intention of actually taking it.”

  “A fact of which I have been made well aware.” Again, the Pharus’ eyes darted toward Killian. “I am also aware that you traveled to Shalandra for the purpose of bringing Lady Briana home safely, and to investigate the matter of the Gatherers that attacked your city.”

  Kodyn gritted his teeth, but again he nodded.

  “I am not in the habit of rewarding thieves who come to steal my crown.” The Pharus’ expression relaxed slightly. “But from everything I have learned about your Night Guild, I believe there is something else that I can offer you: a chance to expand those operations to Shalandra.”

  The words struck Kodyn like a physical blow. His jaw dropped, his eyes flying wide.

  The Pharus’ face tightened. “Much as I would like to believe that my people are honorable and upright, the presence of the Ybrazhe Syndicate has made it abundantly clear that crime is and will continue to be a problem. One I intend to curtail as much as I can.”

  Kodyn blinked, trying to wake up from what felt like an impossible dream.

  A hint of a grin played on the Pharus’ lips. “The structure of the Night Guild, the various Houses each dedicated to managing a different facet of the criminal element, I believe that has the potential to be effective in my city. I would like to formally extend the offer to your Guild Master to come to Shalandra and offer particular…representatives of the Crown an insight into the means your Night Guild uses to maintain law and order in what has been lawlessness and turmoil with the Ybrazhe.”

  “Representatives like the Black Widow here?” Kodyn gestured to Killian.

  Killian froze, the half-eaten apple held to his lips. Beside Kodyn, Evren seemed equally taken aback. The sudden absence of expression on both Lady Callista and the Pharus’ faces confirmed his suspicions.

  He turned to Killian. “I only spoke of my Undertaking to the Black Widow—or, should I say, the Black Widow’s voice.”

  Killian’s bushy eyebrows knit together, the only crack in his otherwise inscrutable expression.

  “If you don’t mind me asking,” Kodyn continued, “why did Arch-Guardian Suroth want me to deliver a lockstone to you?” He drew out the round gemstone. “And, for that matter, the Serenii artifact you gave to Evren?”

  Killian glanced at Evren, his eyes darkening, then at the Lady of Blades and the Pharus. Lady Callista gave an ever-so-slight inclination of her head.

  “The Final Destruction,” Killian replied, his tone somber. “His findings about the Tomb of Hallar led him to believe we needed to open it and discover what lay hidden within. He gave me the lockstone so I could enter the palace when the Vault of Ancients next opened. The artifact—” Again, a little glare at Evren. “—he gave it to me for safekeeping. Said it was to ensure that if something happened to him, if anyone managed to get their hands on the others, they would be unable to open the tomb.”

  “The sixth and final artifact.” Kodyn nodded. “A smart plan, without which this all might have e
nded quite differently.”

  He’d begun to suspect Killian the moment he’d seen the Serenii artifact in Evren’s hand. It made no sense for a blacksmith, even the leader of the Mumblers, to possess the sort of treasured relic stored securely in the Temple of Whispers or Arch-Guardian Suroth’s study. More details—Killian absent from his smithy while Kodyn met with the Black Widow, the Ybrazhe Syndicate’s assassination attempt in The Banded Brothers Brewery, and the way an Intaji smith seemed far too well-informed about matters in the palace and the Keeper’s Tier—had only added to his suspicion. The final nail in the coffin had been mention of the Undertaking and Killian’s knowledge of the Night Guild.

  “Perhaps the Night Guild might consider sending you to aid in our efforts.” Respect filtered through the Pharus’ shock. “We could use someone with your…unique insights and talents.”

  Kodyn struggled to hide his surprise. A job offer was the last thing he’d expected. Not long ago, a high-ranked position within Shalandra’s criminal underworld was precisely the sort of thing he’d have accepted without question. Now, however…

  “I do not expect you to give me an answer at this moment,” Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres said. “However, I do expect that, when you return to Praamis, you bring a letter that will open negotiations between myself, the Black Widow—” His lips twitched, and he seemed to struggle not to look at Killian. “—and your Guild Master.”

  “I would be honored, Bright One.” Kodyn bowed. “I’m certain my mother would be very interested to consider your offer.”

  The look of stunned surprise on the faces of the Pharus, Lady Callista, Killian, Issa, Hykos, and Aleema were worth far more than a fortune in gold.

  * * *

  Evren’s gut tightened as Lady Callista and the Pharus turned to him.

  “Then there is the matter of you,” Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres said. “The thief who came to steal the Blade of Hallar.”

  With slow, deliberate movements, Lady Callista unslung the sword from her back and held it up. The transparent gemstone in the crossguard twinkled in the golden lamplight, its brilliance almost a mockery to Evren. So close, so close to completing his mission for the Hunter, only to fail.

  Royal displeasure echoed in the Pharus’ words. “Unlike your companions, you came to abscond with one of our most treasured relics, to steal it away from our city.” The monarch’s eyes darkened. “You spoke in half-truths even to those you proclaimed to trust.”

  Anger and defiance burned within Evren’s chest. “I also fought to save your city.”

  “You did.” The Pharus nodded. “And that is the only reason you are here, rather than enjoying the hospitality of my dungeons.”

  Evren’s heart sank. One look in the eyes of the Pharus and Lady Callista, and he knew where they were going. Despair, bitter and edged with a bite far sharper than any acid in the Temple of Whispers, burned a hole in his stomach.

  The Pharus opened his mouth to speak—doubtless banishing him from Shalandra, sending him away empty-handed.

  Evren clenched his jaw, but he forced himself to stand tall. If that was to be his fate, he would face it as he had every other torment and trial in his life: head-on, defiant to his last breath.

  He’d not only stopped a Keeper-damned demon from destroying Shalandra, he’d brought the bloody thing down—with the help of his friends, of course—and locked him away in a Chamber of Sustenance. For as long as the Iron Warlord remained in the chamber, his life force would sustain Kharna. Not quite the outcome he’d expected when first arriving in Shalandra, but not a complete failure. He could hold his head high when he told Father Reverentus, the Hunter, and Kiara of his mission to Shalandra.

  Before the dreaded words formed on the Pharus’ lips, a knock sounded at the door.

  “A thousand apologies, Bright One.” A servant wearing a gold-and-white shendyt and a headband of threaded gold and brown entered, bowing deeply to the Pharus. “Arch-Guardian Ennolar and Lady Briana have come, as requested.”

  The Pharus inclined his head. “Bid them enter.”

  Mention of Briana set dread coiling like a serpent in Evren’s gut. Hailen had told him of Briana’s vow to join the Secret Keepers. He’d gone to visit her in her father’s old mansion—the current headquarters of the Mistress’ priests until they finished restoring the Temple of Whispers—but had stopped every time before turning down the avenue toward the front gate. He couldn’t imagine the bright, strong-willed, clever Dhukari girl he’d met weeks ago as a mute priestess in dull brown robes. The thought of seeing her thus had turned him back.

  Now, he could avoid that pain no longer. Clenching his fists, he schooled his expression and forced himself to face the door. She’d made her choice—for the sake of Hailen, Kodyn, and all of Shalandra. He owed her the respect of accepting that decision, much as it pained him, filled him with sorrow. If she truly believed she belonged among the Secret Keepers, he had to be happy that she had found her purpose in life.

  His throat tightened as he caught sight of Briana entering at Ennolar’s side. She wore the frumpy, formless robes of mud brown marking her a priest of the Mistress. It felt as if he stared at a colorful flower whose petals had been plucked, the drab remnants of a once-glorious marvel.

  Briana glanced in his direction, her gaze locking on him for just an instant. Her eyes were red-rimmed and shadowed, her face as solemn and mute as every other priest of the Mistress. The sight broke Evren’s heart.

  “Arch-Guardian, Lady Briana.” The Pharus’ face brightened. “We are pleased you could attend us.”

  Arch-Guardian Ennolar bowed. “The honor is ours, Bright One,” his fingers said.

  Over the days of rest following the battle for Shalandra, Evren had roped Hailen into teaching him the silent hand language of the Secret Keepers. If Briana was to endure the mutilation necessary to join the Mistress’ priesthood, he wanted to at least have a conversation with her one final time.

  “How goes work on the Temple of Whispers?” the Pharus asked.

  “Well, my Pharus,” Ennolar signed. “It turns out the damage to the temple is not as extensive as we initially believed. While the upper floors were destroyed in the battle with the Stumblers, the vast majority of our Mistress’ divine secrets were stored in vaults below the ground. Many of our brothers and sisters managed to escape to the vaults before they set loose the explosion. While our losses were heavy, we will rebuild and recover, like all of Shalandra.”

  “That is good news, indeed.” Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres smiled. “And your studies into the Basilik’s Kiss and its effects on those turned into Stumblers?”

  “I wish I had better tidings to report, my Pharus.” Ennolar’s expression grew grim. “Most of those turned into Stumblers are too far beyond our abilities to restore. Many were given the Basilik’s Kiss weeks or months ago, and their minds, bodies, and internal functions are decayed or corrupted. Extreme starvation and thirst are the primary causes of death, but total organ failure follows close on their heels. The death toll continues to climb despite our best efforts.”

  The Pharus’ expression darkened.

  “But,” Ennolar continued, “there are many who were only recently given the potion. While it is only a fraction of those affected, perhaps one in every fifteen or twenty, there is hope that they will make a full recovery. My priests are working in close coordination with the Ministrants of the Bright Lady and the Bloody Minstrel’s Trouverers to administer aid to those who are likely to recover, as well as ease the suffering of those too far gone.”

  “We thank you,” the Pharus said, inclining his head. “It is always good to know that we can rely on the wisdom and skill of the Temple of Whispers in our time of need.”

  “It is nothing more than is expected of us, Bright One. By our city and our goddess.” Ennolar’s round face hardened. “Our divine mandate was to protect this world from black alchemy, such as that used by the treacherous Groebus. We only seek to rectify our failures to prevent this evil
from spreading.”

  “The fault lies not with you or your priests, Arch-Guardian.” Lady Callista spoke up. “My own people never suspected the truth of Groebus’ intentions or the full extent of the Iron Warlord’s plans. Groebus was among the most cunning men in Shalandra, and the Iron Warlord…” She shrugged. “A demon is one enemy none of us expected to face. Thankfully, we have dealt with one of our enemies. And, knowing Invictus Tannard, he and his hand-picked Blades will hunt down Groebus before long.”

  “Without a doubt.” Ennolar nodded. “Already, the Secret Keepers I have sent to find him have reached Voramis, Praamis, and begun the journey across the Frozen Sea to Fehl. The cowardly hunchback may have fled the city once his army of Stumblers was brought down, but he will not go far.”

  “Again, you have our gratitude.” Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres inclined his head. “We will encourage our people to beseech the Long Keeper to aid you in your efforts, both to restore those affected by the Iron Warlord’s evil and to bring Groebus to justice.”

  “My Pharus does me honor.” Ennolar bowed. “But perhaps we might speak of the real reason you summoned us here, Bright One?” A crafty smile tugged at his fleshy lips. “Your concern for your city does you honor, but that is not why you desired to speak with me…and Lady Briana.”

  A wry smile tugged at the Pharus’ lips. “Suroth always said you could be too smart for your own good, Ennolar. Which is exactly why we want you to have a seat on the new Council we are forming in place of the Keeper’s Council. The Council of the People’s Voice, formed by a representative from each caste in Shalandra, each with equal voice and influence. And, alongside them, members of the Venerated, the high-ranking clerics of the thirteen gods to lend their counsel.”