Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  Issa swallowed her instinctive surge of anxiety. She stood before one of the most powerful people in Shalandra and her direct superior, commander of the Keeper’s Blades. The broad-shouldered woman in the chair had the power to determine her fate.

  “I have spoken with the Elders of the Blades about you,” Lady Callista spoke in an impassive tone. “They all agree that you deserted your post in the Palace of Golden Eternity.”

  Issa’s gut tightened. The night of the assassination attempt on the Pharus, she’d left her standing vigil to patrol the grounds, mostly out of a desire to remain awake after nearly two days without sleep. Yet that would serve as pitiful defense against the accusation of desertion.

  “And yet, they have decided to forego consequences on this occasion,” Lady Callista continued. “The Long Keeper smiled on you and placed you in a position to sound the alarm and save the lives of your fellow Blades.” A hint of approval cracked her stony expression. “While the Elders and I have centuries of experience combined, we feel it is not our place to question the Long Keeper’s wisdom.”

  Relief washed over Issa like a cool breeze in a Shalandran summer, and her heart started beating again.

  “Yet I did not summon you here just to tell you of your fate,” Lady Callista’s strong fingers toyed with a long, slim dagger that lay on her desk. “The Pharus, in his infinite wisdom—” A half-grimace, half-sneer twisted her upper lip. “—saw fit to bring you into his confidences. As his loyal servant, I have no choice but to obey his commands.”

  Issa struggled to keep her confusion from showing. She had no idea what the Pharus had commanded, but judging by the look on Lady Callista’s face, it wasn’t something the Lady of Blades agreed with.

  “Come.” Lady Callista beckoned.

  Issa obeyed, crossing the distance to the desk in three short strides.

  “Our interrogation of the captured assassins yielded little information of use.” A scowl twisted her face. “Despite our…persistence, the Gatherers would not break under questioning. Indeed, it seemed they had taken some sort of poison that killed them slowly enough that they could attack, yet silenced them before we could break them. But our search of the palace grounds proved far more informative.”

  Issa raised an eyebrow as Lady Callista drew out a large vellum scroll from within her desk and spread it out on the table. She recognized a map of the palace—the same map she’d been shown as Tannard had detailed her guard position on the night of the assassination.

  “As we suspected, the assassins did not enter through the front gate. The Indomitables stationed there remain loyal to the Pharus. However, someone else within the palace opened a way for them to enter here.” Lady Callista’s finger traced along the southeastern edge of the palace grounds. “In the Terrestra.”

  Issa’s eyebrows shot up. “Aren’t those gardens under heavy guard?”

  “They are.” Lady Callista nodded. “A full company of Indomitables are patrolling at any given time. But the Terrestra is so vast that it would take two full companies to watch every square foot. The Gatherers proved themselves resourceful enough to evade the patrols and slip into the palace unseen, through here.” She tapped a finger against the map.

  Issa stared down at the room. “The kitchens?”

  “Specifically, rooms used to store dry goods—flour, barley, rice, and the like.” Lady Callista leaned back in her chair. “We only discovered that connection because one of the Gatherers was foolish enough to track flour into the palace halls on the bottom of his boots. Otherwise, we’d never have known how they got from the gardens into the palace itself.”

  Issa tried to figure the route the assassins had taken. The gardens stood on the southeastern edge of the palace, while the kitchens were located farther west, only accessible by a tradesman’s entrance. Her brow furrowed. The assassins would have had to cross the plaza in front of the palace. Not the most practical route if they wanted to remain invisible.

  “I see you’ve discovered the same problem with that plan as I did.” Lady Callista’s lip quirked into a small smile of approval. “It could be that the connection to the kitchens was used as nothing more than a ruse to throw us off their true entrance. Either that, or the same person that opened the way for them to enter the Terrestra also gave them a secret way to enter the palace unseen.”

  Issa frowned down at the first place Lady Callista had indicated. “There is a way to enter the gardens?” A sixty-foot wall of solid sandstone ringed the entire tier upon which the palace sat and separated it from the Keeper’s Tier below.

  “Yes.” The Lady of Blades’ face tightened. “A secret tunnel that runs beneath the wall and allows access to the gardens from precise locations in the Keeper’s Tier. The way is known only to a select few among the Keeper’s Council and the Necroseti.”

  Issa’s mouth went suddenly dry. “You believe the Keeper’s Priests had a hand in the attempt? Didn’t the Gatherers try to kill them as well?”

  “Again, you reach the same conclusion as I.” Lady Callista inclined her head. “It is well known that the Gatherers were once Keeper’s Priests serving in the Hall of the Beyond. My belief—and that of the Pharus—is that the secret way was known to at least one of the Necroseti that split off from the priesthood to become a Gatherer. A high-ranking Necroseti is their leader. Perhaps someone known to the Keeper’s Council.”

  Issa raised an eyebrow. “Why not ask them? Surely they have to know which of their priests have gone missing to join the Gatherers.”

  “They refuse to give answers.” Lady Callista’s face creased into a scowl. “They consider themselves above all laws but those given to them by the Long Keeper himself through Hallar.”

  “Could the Pharus not simply command them to obey?” Issa asked. “He is the Revered Servant of the Long Keeper on Einan, is he not?”

  “So they say, when it suits them.” Her scowl deepened, and for a moment Issa caught a glimpse of the Lady of Blades’ true feelings. Lady Callista loathed the priests, and it showed in the fire that burned in her eyes, the snarl that twisted her strong face.

  “You mentioned that someone within the palace was working with them,” Issa said, eyes narrowing. “Does that mean you suspect one of the Keeper’s Council of colluding with the Gatherers?”

  “The evidence is hard to ignore.” Lady Callista inclined her head. “If not them, then someone within their retinue. Someone that none of the Indomitables or Keeper’s Blades on patrol would think to question.”

  “That’s a long list of people.” Issa frowned. The Keeper’s Council rarely left the Hall of the Beyond without attendants, scribes, and lower-ranked Necroseti—between sixty and eighty at any given time.

  “Yes, it is.” Lady Callista nodded. “And the Gatherers went to their graves without incriminating which of the Necroseti were complicit in this attempt. Which means we must take a closer look at each person in the palace on that night in order to determine who was in the Terrestra.”

  “Very well.” Issa straightened. “Tell me who you want me to—”

  “No, that is not why I summoned you here.”

  Issa’s brow furrowed, but she stood straight and tall.

  “The Pharus ordered you to protect Briana, formerly of the Dhukari, daughter of Arch-Guardian Suroth. That is precisely what you will do.”

  Again, confusion raced through Issa. “Then why tell me all this if I am to have no part in it?”

  “That is your part.” Lady Callista leaned forward. “It has come to the Pharus’ attention that Lady Briana shares our suspicions of the Necroseti’s complicity in her father’s death. She intends to go to war against not only the Gatherers, but the Keeper’s Priests and the Council itself.”

  Issa’s eyebrows shot up. “What?”

  Lady Callista nodded. “And the Pharus intends to lend what aid he can.” She gestured at Issa. “You. You, and Archateros Hykos with you, are to be my eyes and ears beside Suroth’s daughter. You are to protect her, but liste
n and watch her and her companions as well. If she is anything like her father, there is no doubt that she will uncover things that may prove useful against the Keeper’s Council. Things that you will report to me.”

  Understanding dawned on Issa. “You want me to play spy.” She struggled to keep a disgusted grimace from her face.

  “Yes,” Lady Callista replied, without a hint of emotion in her voice. “For the young woman’s own good. Without her father’s wealth and position as a Councilor, she will find herself in serious danger going up against the Keeper’s Council. But I believe she has value, and thus it is in the best interests of Shalandra that she remains alive and unharmed. A job that falls to you and your Archateros.”

  Issa nodded. “I understand.” The image of a cold, hard face flashed through her mind. “And what of Invictus Tannard? If he tries to pull me away from this duty once more—”

  “As Invictus, Tannard has the latitude to take a direct hand in your training as a Keeper’s Blade.” Lady Callista’s jaw muscles worked. “I will speak to him of this matter, ensure that he knows what I expect from you. But if he gives you a command, you must follow it.”

  Issa opened her mouth to argue—protecting Briana would prove a full-time task, one she couldn’t carry out if she had to worry about Tannard’s cruelty—but the Lady of Blades held up a hand.

  “Everything you are asked to do, it is all part of your training. No matter how distasteful or daunting.” Lady Callista pursed her lips. “The chosen of the Long Keeper must be adept not only in the ways of battle, but all the tools of war at our disposal. We fight for the future of Shalandra against enemies that will not hesitate to crush us at the first chance they have.”

  “Yes, Lady Callista.” Issa bowed. The burden of her new duty sat heavy on her shoulders.

  “Then go, return to Briana and send Archateros Hykos to me at once. I will see that he is briefed as well. But first…”

  Lady Callista reached for a small silver bell on her desk and rang it. Before the high tinkling sound faded away, the door opened and Ivita entered the room.

  “My lady?” the servant asked.

  Callista Vinaus ignored the question. “If you ever need to speak with me, deliver this to any of the servants in the palace that wear a headband like Ivita’s.”

  Issa studied the white-and-gold-braided band. It was made from real gold cloth and fine white silk, but upon closer inspection, she found a single thread of silver running between the two. That was something she’d never noticed before…and wouldn’t have if Lady Callista hadn’t pointed it out.

  The Lady of Blades tossed Issa a silver coin. “They will see that it reaches me and I will find a way to make contact in secret.”

  The silver coin bore the Pharus’ face on one side, but on the reverse, a small “X” like crossed swords had been etched into the smooth metal. With a nod, Issa slipped the coin into a pocket. “I understand, Lady Callista.”

  The Lady of Blades dismissed her with a nod. Issa turned on her heel and marched out of the room. Yet, as she cast one last glance over her shoulder, she found Lady Callista’s eyes fixed on her, that strange expression once more on her face.

  Chapter Twenty

  Even the presence of the black-armored Keeper’s Blade opposite her didn’t soothe the nervous tension roiling within Aisha. She’d contemplated leaving her armor and weapons back at the house to avoid drawing attention, but Hykos’ two-handed sword and black plate mail made it impossible for them to blend into the crowds on the Artisan’s Tier.

  Thankfully, the journey to the Temple District was a short one. They would have reached the Temple of Whispers well before the sun had fully risen, were it not for Nessa. The Steward—she still insisted on her title, even though she no longer served in a Dhukari household—had foisted a hearty breakfast on them, whipped up with surprising skillfulness by Leya, the Earaqi cook that had remained loyal to Briana.

  Aisha had to admit that things looked much better under the bright morning sun and with a full belly. The golden sandstone glowed in the dazzling sunlight, letting off a warm radiance that helped to drive back the night’s chill. The early crowds had begun to flow along the Artificer’s Courseway, filling the air with the low hum and chatter of a busy city.

  The effects of the Whisperer’s Lily had also begun to wear off. Aisha could feel Thimara’s spark within her, a glowing ember burning in the core of her being. Yet the voices of the dead floating along the Artificer’s Courseway had faded to a dull buzzing in the back of her mind. She still dreaded the moment when she’d pass the Sanctuary, where the voices of the spirits had nearly broken her, but she forced herself to keep marching along beside Briana and Hykos. She had embraced her gift and would bear the burden it placed upon her.

  “Does the name Thimara mean anything to you?” she asked Briana as they drew closer to the Temple District.

  “No,” Briana replied. “Why? Should it?”

  Aisha shook her head. “Probably not.” Too many ghosts lived in the City of the Dead, forgotten and alone. Thimara could be just one more.

  “Just so you know, I haven’t forgotten what I promised you in the garden.” Briana turned toward her, eyes piercing. “I will try to find a way to mitigate the effects of the Whispering Lily. Alas, without access to my father’s garden, I will need to find another source of plants. But I haven’t forgotten what I said. We will find a solution, I promise.”

  “Thank you,” Aisha said with a smile, but tight knots formed in her stomach. She’d accepted the effects of the Whispering Lily knowing that it was the price she paid for the power of the Kish’aa—power that had saved her and Briana’s life. Yet, in the back of her mind, she’d clung to the hope that Briana could figure out a solution to negate the deterioration of mind and body that accompanied the plant’s use.

  Now, that hope felt distant, so faint as to be almost nonexistent. The Whispering Lily grew in Arch-Guardian Suroth’s private rooftop garden, in the mansion that now belonged to Councilor Angrak. Where else in Shalandra could Briana get her hands on such rare and exotic blossoms? And, with the threat of the Gatherers and war with the Necroseti looming over them, it felt selfish to ask Briana to devote time to her problem when the Shalandran girl already had enough to worry about. The most important thing would be deciphering Suroth’s journals in time for Kodyn and Evren to get into the Vault of Ancients. The matter of the Whispering Lily could wait.

  But for how long? The question echoed in Aisha’s mind like the tolling of a midnight bell.

  Her father’s mind had fully deteriorated within the space of a year, but he’d begun showing signs of the plant’s effects far sooner. And she’d never seen him wield the power of the Kish’aa as she had. Would that slow the degeneration or speed it up? Or, would it do nothing at all? Aisha had no one to ask, no one to turn to for help. She would tell Kodyn in time—the others, too—but he knew less about it than she did. He’d want to help but what could he do?

  The sight of the stone pillars and marble-tiled stairs of the Sanctuary drove the dagger of dread home in Aisha’s gut. Thousands of Kish’aa hovered around the building, a solid wall of blue-white that swirled like a hurricane. Empty eyes locked onto her and silent mouths opened in pleas that set her head buzzing. The diminishing effects of the Whispering Lily amplified the cries to a painful throbbing—like the effects of a terrible hangover, leaving her head filled with mud and chaos.

  She gritted her teeth in an effort not to cry out, but the pounding nearly sent her to her knees. It took all her self-control not to empty her stomach onto the stones for the whirling, seething confusion gripping her mind.

  “Aisha, are you hurt?” Briana’s words came to her from afar, as if she spoke from across a vast gulf. Blood pounded in Aisha’s ears and her head ached from the mounting pressure.

  “I’m fine,” she said through clenched teeth and straightened. “Might just be something I ate.” A lie, but now wasn’t the time to give in to the voices of the dead. They
had more important things to focus on.

  She breathed a silent sigh of relief as they left the Sanctuary behind and the tumult in her mind diminished. The nausea in her stomach retreated, her heart slowed its frantic beat, and she could breathe easy again.

  Their destination, the Temple of Whispers, stood just west of the Sanctuary. It was far shorter than the towering white marble obelisk to the Swordsman beside it, and the golden sandstone once again bore the dull, muted color she’d noticed last time. The temple was a single squat, rectangular structure that looked as impenetrable as the huge concave steel door out front.

  Aisha found the same two Secret Keepers standing guard at the entrance. One, the priest she’d spoken with on her last visit, nodded at their approach.

  “And here I’d thought we’d seen the last of you, Ghandian,” his fingers said in hand language.

  “You won’t be rid of me that easily.” Aisha grinned. “Not after you hear what Lady Briana has to say.”

  “Lady?” The brown-robed priest pursed his lips. “From what I heard—”

  “What you have heard matters not.” Briana’s fingers moved in short, sharp movements as they always did when she was angry. “All that matters is who my father was.”

  “Adoptive father,” retorted the Secret Keeper, his expression just short of taunting.

  “You know the truth as well as everyone else in the Temple of Whispers.” Briana stood tall, head held high. “Unless they took your eyes and brain along with your tongue all those years ago.”

  For a moment, Aisha feared the Secret Keeper would respond with violence. Kodyn had told her the story of Ilanna’s visit to the Temple of Whispers in Voramis, and of the priests’ skill at their strangely fluid, lethal bare-handed combat. And, despite Suroth’s age and position as Arch-Guardian, highest-ranking priest of the Secret Keeper, he had slain nine Gatherer assassins empty-handed. She’d avoid this particular fight if at all possible.