Secrets of Blood

by Andy Peloquin

  Sometimes, it proved impossible to believe in any sort of divinity when its servants inflicted such horrors on the world.

  “Fine,” Evren said. “Let’s go. We’ll never find him if we just stand here.”

  Shaking his head, he strode down the passage she’d indicated. A heartbeat later, her boots clacked behind him, moving fast to catch up.

  A tense silence descended over them as they hurried through the underground tunnel. The lamplight revealed rough-hewn walls and ceilings that lacked the elegance and precision of the Serenii-made passages. This corridor, like the escape tunnel, appeared to have been carved by human hands.

  Issa extinguished the light a few minutes later, and Evren caught sight of the starry night at the end of the tunnel. Moonlight shone on the monolithic stone structure of the Hall of the Beyond. The sheer scope of the temple stole his breath. The building stretched a thousand paces east to west, and easily half that distance north to south. High stone walls ringed the temple grounds, which appeared to occupy fully a quarter of the Keeper’s Tier.

  Bloody hell! Evren stifled a silent curse. How are we ever supposed to find one man in a place like this?

  He glanced at the sky. They’d be lucky to find Tinush before sunrise, but they needed to be gone from the temple long before dawn. He doubted the Keeper’s Priests would be thrilled to find them sneaking around the temple grounds.

  Better hurry up and start looking, then.

  He scanned the huge temple itself, searching for anything that could give him an idea of where to begin his search. He lacked Kodyn’s expertise at breaking into fine mansions and estates, but he knew enough about priests to have a clue. The Grand Lectern of Vothmot and his High Lectern underlings occupied the highest rooms in the opulent Master’s Temple. Wealthy merchants, noblemen, kings, and caliphs tended to choose a lofty viewpoint from which to look down on the world around them.

  That top floor seems as good a place as any to start.

  His eyes traced the outline of the temple until he found a balcony jutting from its western face, near the southern corner of the highest floor. Anyone standing up there would be able to see over the sandstone walls ringing the Hall of the Beyond and the Keeper’s Tier. They’d have a clear view of the tiers below and the farmlands that surrounded Shalandra to the south.

  Yeah, that’s definitely where we want to look.

  “How about there?” he thrust a finger at the balcony.

  Issa studied it with a frown. “Worth a try.”

  Evren drew in a deep breath. Finding it is the easy part. Let’s hope getting onto the balcony isn’t as hard as it looks. Though the temple stood only half the height of the seven huge spires, they’d still have to climb six floors to reach that balcony. Whether they scaled the exterior or found a way up through the inside of the temple, they’d be in for a bloody difficult time.

  Thankfully, they had plenty of cover to get them within spitting distance of the temple. The passage they’d used to enter the Hall of the Beyond opened into a lush garden filled with tall trees, thick shrubs, and solid hedge walls. The light of lanterns, torches, and oil lamps flickered in the myriad gazebos, stone circles, and wooden arbors that dotted the estate, but their illumination made it easier for Evren to pick his way through the gardens. It seemed the Necroseti had little fear of intruders; not a single patrol of gold-armored guards appeared to stymie their efforts to reach the main building.

  The gardens actually grew right up to the base of the temple, broken only by a narrow walkway surrounding the building. Evren and Issa didn’t even need to break cover to approach the southern wall. A bushy beech tree gave them ample concealment.

  That was too easy. Nervous tension knotted his shoulders. Could the Keeper’s Priests be so secure in their power that they had no need to protect themselves from outside threats? Given the way they’d manipulated the Ybrazhe—and likely the Gatherers and Hallar’s Warriors—they probably were.

  Not for much longer. A fierce grin split his face. Tinush is in for one hell of a surprise.

  He scanned the area, searching for a way to reach the sixth-floor balcony. It, too, appeared a nauseatingly simple task. The same beech tree that sheltered them actually spread its thick, leafy branches up to the fifth floor level, offering an abundance of easily-reached handholds. From there, it would be a simple, if slightly more challenging task to scale the rough-hewn stone and clamber onto the balcony.

  Simple for him, at least. He shot a glance at Issa. With all her heavy armor and that huge sword on her back, she might not be able to make the climb.

  She seemed to read his thoughts. “Let’s do this.” Her face hardened. “There’s no way you’re going without me.”

  “Suit yourself.” With a shrug, Evren clambered up into the lowest branches and began the five-story ascent of the beech tree.

  Despite the aches in his still-tender ankle and shoulder, he found the climb surprisingly enjoyable. The tree’s bark had a smooth texture that made for easy gripping, and the thick branches provided solid hand and footholds. The ascent proved as simple as the trek across the temple grounds.

  Yet it was the act of climbing a tree that brought a smile to Evren’s face. Long ago, he’d loved climbing the few acacia trees that grew in the barren, rocky soil of Vothmot. His mother had laughed, clapped, and tried her best to conceal her worry as Evren scrambled up the sparse, spindly branches. She would climb as high as she could and sit with him, sharing a sparse meal.

  Those days were long behind him, his mother and his childhood both laid to rest years earlier. But the smell of green leaves and wood bark, the wind blowing in his hair, and the exertion of hauling himself higher brought back a sense of wonder he hadn’t felt in years. In the midst of the chaos and violence gripping Shalandra, the simplicity of the climb brought back an almost childish sense of joy.

  Then he caught sight of the temple above and the heavily-armored warrior below, and the joy faded. He and Issa were here on a mission to capture Tinush. First they had to find the High Divinity, then figure out how in the bloody hell to get him out of the temple without raising alarm. No easy task, but one problem at a time.

  Sweat dripped down his brow and soaked through his shirt by the time he reached the highest branch of the tree. He walked cautiously toward the wall, his arms outstretched to hold his balance. To his relief, Issa waited before he grabbed on to the sandstone façade of the temple before following him.

  The next part of the ascent proved a bit trickier. Darkness made it difficult to find easy hand and foot-holds, and though the elements had worn away at the smooth stone surface, sandstone had a tendency to crumble. To make the climb, he had to find that perfect balance between haste and caution—the longer he clung to the wall, the greater the risk he’d lose his footing or grip and take a long, shattering plunge.

  His gut tightened as stone cracked and fell away beneath his right hand. He threw himself upward, just in time to close his fingers around the railing of the sixth-floor balcony. Heart hammering, his mouth suddenly dry, he hauled himself over the balustrade and onto the smooth tiled floor.

  He lay there a long moment, his breath coming in ragged gasps. A tremor ran through his hands and knees—not just from exertion, but from fear. That was too bloody close!

  Yet as he climbed to his feet, the view from the balcony proved absolutely worth the effort. Moonlight shone on the city spread out below him and the flat farmlands around it. From this height and distance, the lights shining below—the fires rampaging the Artisan’s Tier and the flickering dots of a hundred torches carried by rioters—mirrored the stars shining above. None of the roaring or shouting reached up this high, only the gentle breeze that caressed his ears.

  A part of him suddenly understood how the Keeper’s Council could permit such violence and turmoil in their city. This balcony rose high above the chaos, just as the Necroseti stood so high above the lower castes. Anyone that stood up here would be removed from the glaring truth experienced
by the people below. This perspective diminished everything beneath the Keeper’s Tier until the rest of Shalandra appeared miniscule and unimportant.

  A grunt from below him snapped him from his thoughts. Right, Issa!

  He had just leaned over the railing to help her when a sound echoed from behind him. Voices, locked in a quiet conversation, approaching.

  “Someone’s coming!” he hissed.

  Issa froze in place, clinging to the wall three paces below the balcony. Her black armor hid her from plain view, yet Evren knew that she could only hold on for so long before her muscles gave out or the wall crumbled away.

  He had no time to help her. A door behind him opened and lamplight spilled across the balcony toward him.

  In desperation, he cast about for a hiding place. A single stone bench stood on the far side of the balcony—he threw himself toward it and slithered out of sight, hoping that the newcomers didn’t look toward him.

  Evren risked a glance at the men. One was a man with prim lips, a hooked nose, and a build on the wrong side of obese; the second was old, easily in his ninth decade, with a thin face, sagging skin, and a chest far too bony for his protruding gut. Both wore golden headbands and an almost comical-looking bejeweled white crown. Evren had never seen any of the Keeper’s Councilors before. He’d gamble his life that these men were definitely them.

  “…heard anything from the vermin, Tinush?” the younger of the two asked. He set the simple oil lantern onto the railing of the balcony—just above where Issa clung to the temple wall.

  “Not since just before noon.” The older man’s voice had the quaver of his advanced age, tinged with a strong note of disdain. “I did, however, receive confirmation that our order to bring down that accursed stronghold has been delivered. Our confederates will stir up the crowd and unleash them shortly before dawn.”

  Confederates. A chill ran down Evren’s spine. They have to be talking about the Ybrazhe! What the stronghold was, he couldn’t be certain. There were many places around Shalandra the priests could be referring to. Perhaps they’d say something to reveal their true goal, and that would point him in the right direction. If he knew what they wanted, he could find a way to stop them.

  After they hauled Tinush out of the temple, of course. He just had to wait for the other priest to leave and he could make his move.

  “I’m not pleased with this, Madani.” High Divinity Tinush’s voice took on a somber note. “The situation has escalated beyond our expectations, and far beyond our control.”

  “I’m not thrilled, either,” Madani said, his tone heavy with worry. “But there’s no turning back now. We are committed. It is simply our good fortune that the foolish Callista wastes her men on the Halls of Bounty. The stores within could only feed the people for a day or two. When we bring out the food we have collected, they will fall in line and follow our commands. Especially our confederates inciting hatred toward the Pharus.”

  Blackfinger’s speech to the Earaqi had dripped vitriol, all directed at Shalandra’s ruler. His guess that the Council was using the Ybrazhe to overthrow the Pharus had been correct.

  “Restoring the city will cost far more than we anticipated,” Tinush said. “Our coffers will be all but empty.”

  “And we will quickly refill them once we have full control over the city and the shalanite mines,” Madani replied. “Besides, what is gold in the face of a true Shalandra, a Shalandra once more devoted to proper worship of the Long Keeper? The people have ignored our teachings for too long, and it has turned them godless and ignorant. We must restore devotion to the Long Keeper before the Final Destruction comes.”

  Evren’s jaw dropped at those words. From the beginning, he’d believed the Keeper’s Priests driven by the usual motives: greed, corruption, a desire for power. Yet Madani actually seemed to believe his words. All this, in the name of worshipping the Long Keeper.

  A god that doesn’t even exist. That cruel truth made the actions of these men even worse. Everything they’d done to “restore devotion” to their deity had been for nothing. There was no Long Keeper, no god of death. Simply an ancient being that people had once, long ago, worshipped as such. There would be no divine judgement, no bliss in the Long Keeper’s arms. Evren had never given much thought to the afterlife—he’d stopped worrying about it the day he started fighting to survive—but it certainly wasn’t whatever these men envisioned.

  “You are right,” Tinush said. “With the restoration of faith and a devout population, we can usher in the glorious, enlightened future that Hallar envisioned for Shalandra. Still, though this sacrifice is necessary to bring about such change, I find myself wishing there had been another way, one that led to fewer deaths.”

  “They go to the Long Keeper and his Sleepless Lands.” A note of zeal echoed in Madani’s voice. “Theirs is the better fate. The rest of us must continue to toil in honor to our god until he calls us to his arms. Death is a gift that awaits all of us at the end of a life of service. Some are simply chosen to receive that gift sooner than others.”

  Evren’s gut clenched as Madani turned and leaned over the railing. Issa!

  The priest’s gaze was fixed on the city, his eyes roaming the darkness below. But if he looked down, the lamplight would outline the form of Issa clinging to the wall.

  Don’t look down, don’t look down!

  Madani looked down.

  He sucked in a breath and recoiled, his eyes flying wide. His mouth opened to cry out alarm.

  Evren moved. He leapt across the balcony and drove a clenched fist into the base of Madani’s jaw, knocking the priest senseless before he could cry out. Madani sagged and hit the tiled balcony with a meaty thump. His head cracked against the golden tile hard.

  A gagging, gasping sound echoed beside him. He turned, fists raised to defend himself, and found the aged Tinush staring at him in stunned surprise. The priest’s face had gone as white as the crown atop his head. His mouth hung agape and his hand clutched at his chest.

  Evren tensed in expectation of a cry, yet none came. Tinush staggered backward, his face twisted in pain, a single ragged breath escaping his lips. Then his legs struck the low railing, his body tipped backward, and he plunged over.

  Horror froze Evren in place for a single heartbeat. He threw himself toward the falling priest, hand outstretched. Too late. His fingers brushed black and gold cloth as Tinush plummeted into the darkness. Long seconds later, a dull thump echoed from below.

  “What did you do?” Sweat streamed down Issa’s face from the effort of clinging to the wall, but she looked up at him, wide-eyed.

  “Nothing!” Evren protested. “He just…fell!” He stared, stunned, into the darkness below.

  “Evren!” Issa hissed. “We need to get out of here, before he’s discovered.”

  Evren cast a glance at the still-senseless Madani. They’d come all this way to capture the High Divinity, but now that Tinush was dead—

  “Evren, now!”

  The words snapped him from his stupor. He slithered over the railing and began the climb downward. The sound of rustling leaves from below told him Issa had reached the safety of the beech tree. He had to move slowly to pick solid hand and footholds, but the urgency burned brighter in his mind with every passing second. Issa was right. If someone discovered Tinush—

  A shout of alarm echoed from the darkness below. Even as Evren jumped onto the thick branch of the beech tree, lights appeared in the gardens from all around. He raced across the swaying limb and threw himself down to the branches below. In minutes, the lights would converge around Tinush’s body. If he and Issa were caught in that tree, there’d be no escape.

  “By the Keeper!” came the cry from below him. “It’s High Divinity Tinush! He’s dead!”

  Evren’s gut clenched. Shite, shite, shite!

  The lights approached faster, dozens of them. As he and Issa drew nearer the ground, the clatter of armor and the thump, thump of booted feet grew louder.

  Ins
tead of clambering straight down the trunk, Issa leapt to the branches of another tree. The sturdy oak only stood half as tall as the beech, but its limbs spread out away from the spot where Tinush’s body lay. The spot that would be flooded with guards and priests any second.

  Good thinking! Evren vaulted to the tree after her. Branches whipped at his face and tore at his clothing, but he had no time to slow. They had less than a minute to reach the ground and melt away into the shadows of the vast gardens.

  Issa dropped the last five paces to the ground, her boots making a soft thump on the grass. Evren was seconds behind her. His feet had barely landed before he was off and running, his steps heading back the way they’d come.

  Lanterns, torches, and lamps bobbed in the darkness all around him, accompanied by shouts of alarm and confusion. Evren raced ahead of Issa, ducking through the thick bushes, slipping behind hedges, and clinging to the shadows of the trees. He scanned the gardens ahead, trusting Issa to watch their backs. He just had to get to that tunnel they’d used to get into the temple and they’d be safe.

  His muscles ached from the climb up and down and his breath burned in his lungs, but he refused to stop or rest. He only paused when the approaching lights threatened to reveal his position. The gardens gave him ample cover, but his heart hammered so loud he feared it would give him away.

  Yet the Necroseti’s guards were so focused on reaching their dead High Divinity that they paid little heed to the shadows around them. It took Issa and Evren the better part of half an hour to reach the tunnel. Relief flooded him when he finally saw the dark opening. Without hesitation, he raced into the sheltering darkness of the underground passage. Issa plucked the lantern off the wall where she’d hung it but didn’t light it until they had left the opening far behind.