He gestured around him. “The Serenii built the lock to open with Aisha’s powers and the magic words, but they added the fail-safe to open the door in case humans didn’t have access to the power!”
Briana’s face brightened. “Of course!” Excitement sparkled in her eyes. “It was designed to account for the fact that the people who lived here might not always have access to magic or an understanding of the Serenii language. The builders left that fail-safe so that no matter what happened, we could always access whatever was stored within.”
The implications of that realization staggered Kodyn. The Serenii had fled Einan five thousand years earlier, yet somehow they’d had the foresight to prepare for an eventuality that would only come to pass after their demise. That sort of insight bordered on clairvoyance—would it be so hard to imagine that creatures capable of shaping the world might also have the ability to peer into the future?
“The good news is that this means we were right to suspect that there’s something important here.” Hailen spoke up from door. He was the first to enter the vault, cautiously placing his feet atop the blue-white lines as he strode toward Kodyn. “They wanted us to get into the vault, even if we didn’t have the power.”
“That’s great and all,” put in Evren. His eyes were fixed on Hailen, worry darkening his face. Clearly he took the threat of the Serenii traps far more seriously than the young boy. “But now that we’re in, what the hell are we supposed to do?”
“Whatever it is, you need to do it faster!” Issa called from the doorway. “The Stumblers are getting in!”
The sounds of battle drifted into the vault; shouts of alarm and the clash of steel had grown louder. The battle was drawing nearer.
Kodyn’s mind raced. He turned to Briana. “So we suspected this place was the room of waiting, which should lead us into Hallar’s Tomb, right?”
Briana nodded agreement, but never took her eyes off the journal as she flipped through the pages.
“Then please tell me there’s something in there that tells us how to open the tomb!” Anxiety dug icy fingers into Kodyn’s mind. Bringing down the Keeper’s Crypts had bought them time, but the grains of sand in the hourglass were trickling away far too fast.
“I’m looking.” Briana chewed on her lip, her brows furrowed in concentration.
“Look!” Hailen’s voice echoed from behind Kodyn.
Kodyn spun toward the boy, who stood beside the pedestals in the center of the room. His violet eyes were fixed upward.
“Hallar’s Prophecy!” Hailen gasped.
Kodyn lifted his gaze and his eyes flew wide at the sight of glowing runes etched into the ceiling. He couldn’t understand the glyphs, but Hailen’s voice rang out in the vault as he read aloud.
“When sword and scepter align
The blood of ancients revived
Child of secrets, child of spirits, child of gold
Half-master seeks the relic of old
Then Hallar’s blood shall rise
And sew the final destruction from midnight eyes.”
“The sword and scepter!” Evren darted into the room, racing across the glowing line toward the pedestals in the center of the chamber. “The Blade of Hallar and the Keeper’s Scepter.”
He scooped up the gaudy long sword while Kodyn grabbed the silver-and-platinum scepter. They held the two artifacts up close, staring at them through narrowed eyes.
“The sword and scepter align, right?” Evren turned the sword hilt-upward. The pommel was an ornate blue gemstone set in golden eagle claws, the hilt a masterpiece of wrapped golden wire barely thicker than a hair. “I don’t see how.”
Kodyn squinted down at the two. The solid metal handle of the mace had no indentations or grooves to insert the sword blade, hilt, or pommel. From what he could see, the two went together as well as oil and sewage water.
“It won’t work.” Lady Callista’s voice called from the door to the vault.
The two of them spun toward her. “Why not?” Kodyn asked.
The Lady of Blades’ face had grown solemn. “Because that’s not the Blade of Hallar.” With reverence, she unslung the huge two-handed flammard from her back and held it up. “This is.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Evren’s eyes flew wide as his gaze fixed on Lady Callista’s sword. Its length nearly matched his height, its black steel blade curving like tongues of a deadly flame. Twin claws sprouted from the tips of the quillons, honed to razor sharpness. At the end of its forearm-long hilt sat a spiked metal ball, like the head of a mace. And there, set into the crossguard just above the haft, was an embedded crystal clear jewel the size of a hen’s egg that had been set into the pommel.
Icy feet slithered down Evren’s spine. He had seen a gemstone like that before—on Soulhunger, the Hunter’s Im’tasi dagger. The Blade of Hallar! The relic he’d come to Shalandra to steal.
His eyes went to the gaudy trinket he held. The long sword from the vault was all bright gold and twinkling stones, yet the weapon in Lady Callista’s hand was a warrior’s blade, scuffed and scratched by use, yet all the more striking for its simplicity—the same simplicity as the Crown of the Pharus and the Keeper’s Scepter.
Lady Callista strode into the vault, taking care to step only on the lighted path. “That blade you hold is a fake one, an ornamental toy intended to draw attention away from the true Blade of Hallar.” She held up the weapon with a quiet reverence. “A blade that is passed down to each Proxenos as they assume command over the chosen of death.”
Up close, the weapon appeared even more fearsome. Evren wanted to reach out, to touch the sleek, serpentine steel with its biting edge. The black metal seemed to glow in the white lamplight, filling Evren with a quiet awe. All his trials, all the suffering he’d endured, it had all led him here, to this blade.
Lady Callista grounded the tip and reached for the hilt. “I always wondered why the hilt was longer and wider than a normal flammard.” She gave the spiked pommel a sudden twist, and with the grinding sound of metal on metal, began to unscrew it. Evren’s eyes widened as the pommel came off, revealing a hole in the hilt. “Now I know.”
She reached out a hand to Kodyn, and the wide-eyed Hawk handed her the mace. The long, thick metallic shaft slid into the hollow end of the sword with ease, all the way to the head, and clicked into place.
Evren tensed, holding his breath in anticipation. Yet nothing happened.
“What’s wrong with it?” Kodyn’s nose scrunched up in confusion and he turned to Briana. “Shouldn’t it, I don’t know, do something?”
Evren couldn’t tear his eyes from the Blade. Blood pounded in his ears, his heart racing. He’d been so close to it before—every time he’d met with Lady Callista, that sword had been near at hand—yet only truly seen it now for the first time.
“That sword,” he stammered, “i-is it truly Hallar’s?”
Lady Callista fixed him with a solemn gaze. “It is. Handed down from Proxenos to Proxenos, our most sacred duty.” She shot a glance. “Besides protecting the Pharus, of course.”
Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres shot her a wry grin. “Of course.”
“The sword is said to imbue its wielder with special abilities.” She shot a glance at Issa. “Abilities that far surpass the Keeper’s blessing. Inhuman speed, strength, stamina, even healing. But that is simply legend. In all the years I have wielded it—”
“It’s not a legend,” Evren said. “No more than the Stumblers or demons.”
The mention of “demons” seemed to startle Lady Callista and Issa. Both recoiled as if struck, their eyes going narrow in suspicion.
“What do you know of demons?” The Lady of Blades spoke in a half-growl.
Evren hesitated. He’d reached the moment of truth, literally. The moment when he made the choice to be honest knowing the outcome. Lady Callista, Issa, and the Pharus would go from allies and friends to enemies, loyal servants of Shalandra sworn to protect the city’s holiest relics—relics h
e’d come to steal.
A part of him wanted to brush off the question, to conceal his true purpose for being in Shalandra. But after everything they had endured, the trust they had placed in him, a part of him felt he owed them honesty.
“I know that demons are real,” he said, his words coming out in a slow voice. “I’ve stared into their black eyes. I nearly died facing them in their true monstrous form. And I know that they are one of the greatest threats this world has ever faced.”
A start, but it wasn’t the full truth. Drawing in a deep breath, he prepared to reveal his real reason for coming to Shalandra. The reason sat in Lady Callista’s hand, a weapon of such power he would be willing to sacrifice his friendships in order to stop it from falling into the Iron Warlord’s hands. Though it sent a shiver of sorrow down his spine, he had no choice.
Issa spoke before he could. “Black eyes?” She shot Lady Callista a glance. “Isn’t that what Burim said about Tethum?”
Lady Callista nodded. “It is.”
The words drove a dagger of ice into Evren’s gut. Everything faded from his mind, leaving only that one statement rattling around in his skull. His limbs seemed suddenly frozen, rooted in place by horror.
It can’t be!
Fear dug fingers into his brain. “T-Tethum is…a demon?!”
“That’s what the Cambionari believed.” Lady Callista’s face hardened. “They were willing to die to a man to bring him down.”
Evren’s breath caught in his lungs. A demon, here in Shalandra. A chill ran down his spine. He wanted to believe it was impossible, yet the Hunter’s stories rang in his mind. Demons wore the guise of humans, and they always sought to claim power for themselves, at any cost to their human enemies and allies alike. After everything Evren had witnessed, all the Iron Warlord’s machinations to seize control of Shalandra, he couldn’t truly dismiss the notion that Tethum was, in fact, a demon masquerading as a man.
His eyes snapped toward Hailen. The boy’s face had gone white, his expression tinged with terror and panic. A tremor set his hands shaking. He’d suffered torments at the hands of demons, had nearly died as the Sage sought to use his Melechha blood to activate the Serenii power in Enarium.
“Not to question you, Callista, but doesn’t that sound a bit insane?” The Pharus’ brow furrowed. “Everyone knows that demons were eradicated from Einan centuries ago, during the War of Gods.”
“Some were,” Evren said. He found it hard to speak, had to swallow the acid surging in his throat. “But some still live among humans. They…change their faces, their physical forms, to look like us.” He had seen the Hunter’s talent for altering the shape of his face, believed it a useful, if terrifying, gift of his half-demon blood. Yet to think of the Iron Warlord shifting his features, that hideous writhing of flesh and bone, filled him with revulsion and fear.
“It’s one of their abilities.” He swallowed. “They heal, too, from wounds that would kill any mortal man. They’re faster, stronger, more cunning. And they’re ancient. They’ve spent thousands of years living among mankind, learning everything that will give them an edge in their attempt to rise to power. They wear the faces of priests and priestesses, kings and queens, even beggars and outcasts if it suits their evil purposes. Wherever they go, they always bring death and destruction.”
There had been that aplenty since Evren arrived in Shalandra.
“How do you know all this?” Lady Callista took a step closer, looming over him with suspicion in her eyes, her expression as menacing as the huge sword gripped in her hands.
Evren forced himself not to recoil, but to stand firm. “I heard it from a demon.” He met her gaze with icy calm. “Half-demon, actually. The Hunter of Voramis.”
Lady Callista’s eyebrows shot up. “The Hunter?” Her expression darkened. “No one has seen his true face and lived.”
“Things have changed,” Hailen spoke up. He came to stand beside Evren, his posture as defiant as the spark in his violet eyes. “He has a new mission now.”
Again, Evren hesitated. The truth of the gods of Einan hadn’t shattered Kodyn, Aisha, or Briana, but it would be different for the Pharus, Issa, and Lady Callista. Their society was built around worship and reverence of the gods, far more so than most on Einan. Issa and Lady Callista had sworn oaths in service to the Long Keeper. The people of Shalandra believed the Pharus was the Keeper’s chosen voice on Einan. In the City of the Dead, belief in the gods informed the lives of every man, woman, and child—the Long Keeper ruled supreme.
Yet, Evren realized, perhaps he could find a way to explain the truth in a way that it didn’t bring their understanding of life, religion, and the gods crumbling around them.
“The Hunter found the Lost City of Enarium,” he explained.
“Evren and I helped!” A grin brightened Hailen’s face.
Evren shot the boy a warning glance. He had to walk a fine line, reveal just enough truth for them to understand the danger they faced.
“In Enarium, he learned a truth lost to the world for millennia. The true threat to Einan is an ancient being of chaos known as the Great Devourer.”
“Kharna, the Destroyer.” Lady Callista nodded.
“The Long Keeper defeated him during the War of Gods,” the Pharus added. “Trapped him in an eternal prison from which he will never escape.”
Evren struggled to hide a grin. It seems legends truly are shaped by those who tell them. In Vothmot, worshippers of Kiro, the Master, spoke of the great god’s role in the War of Gods. The Master had sent his thunder and lightning to disorient Kharna, distract him as the Illusionist wove his magics to ensnare him. In Voramis and Praamis, the Swordsman was the focus of the legend, a hero sacrificing himself to buy the other gods time to entrap the Great Destroyer.
“That’s not quite how it went,” he said. Yet all trace of mirth vanished as he realized that this was the point of no return. What he had to say next either earned their trust or scorn. There’d be no going back once he revealed the truth.
He drew in a deep breath before speaking. “The legends got Kharna’s role in the War of Gods wrong. He wasn’t the evil that the gods fought to destroy; that was the Great Devourer, and Kharna sacrificed himself to battle it. He fights it to this day, bound to the power of the Serenii forever, fighting with every shred of his strength to protect our world from a chaos that seeks to unmake our reality.”
The Pharus, Lady Callista, and Issa appeared floored, their expressions frozen in masks of disbelief, bewilderment, and stunned surprise. Evren felt a moment of pity for them; even just that little bit of information had to be overwhelming. It went against everything they’d learned throughout their lives, every belief ingrained in them by the Keeper’s Priests and the legends of Einan.
Yet he’d had to tell them the truth. If the Iron Warlord truly was a demon, it would take all of them to survive what came next.
“I know it’s a lot to believe,” he said. “But I swear every word is true. Hailen was in Enarium, and he saw the Great Devourer with his own eyes. The Hunter spoke with Kharna, witnessed the truth of the War of Gods and the demons’ assault on Einan.”
He swallowed hard. No turning back now.
“That is what brings me to Shalandra.” Evren stood straighter, met the Pharus and Lady Callista’s eyes without hesitation. “Hailen and I have joined the Hunter in his battle to sustain Kharna in his fight against the Great Devourer. We have come to Shalandra in search of…artifacts that could help.” His eyes went to Lady Callista’s sword. The gemstone in the hilt was crystal clear, yet Evren could almost feel it pulsating within his mind. “Artifacts like the Blade of Hallar. A blade that is capable of killing demons and saving the world.”
Lady Callista’s expression slowly darkened. Disbelief gave way to blazing fury. “You’ve come to steal our most priceless relic?” Her lips curled into a snarl. “The symbol of justice and honor, handed down through the ages, the weapon of Lord of Blades to wield in defense of our city?”
>
“Yes.” Evren didn’t flinch before Lady Callista’s anger. He set his jaw, braced his shoulders. “I did.”
“But that didn’t stop him from saving Shalandra.” Briana’s words took Evren by surprise. Even more surprising, the girl entered the vault and carefully walked to stand before Lady Callista. “He fought a war he had no place fighting, a battle not his yet one from which he never backed down. Surely that earns him a degree of indulgence. Especially given the threat we face and our surrounding circumstances.”
Lady Callista’s gaze fixed on Evren’s face, outrage blazing in her dark eyes. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of the flammard so hard her metal gauntlets creaked. Evren tensed, hands ready to dart for his jambiyas. If she came for him, he’d fight to his last breath. The Blade of Hallar wouldn’t just wound; it would consume his very soul.
“Lady Callista.” Aisha’s voice echoed from the vault door. She, too, entered to stand behind Briana. “He has done more in service for Shalandra than anyone in this room.”
“He took on the Ybrazhe single-handed.” Kodyn’s presence materialized at Evren’s side, the Praamian’s looming presence surprisingly comforting. “Not only went to war with them, but put an end to them once and for all. Even served up Blackfinger himself on a silver platter.”
Gratitude blossomed warm and brilliant in Evren’s chest. A lump rose to his throat. He’d never had friends that would stand up for him before; he’d always stood alone, defiant, fighting to his last breath for the sake of someone else. Now, to know they had his back, they’d stand by him even against Lady Callista and the Pharus himself, set every fiber of his being aglow.
Their support buoyed him, strengthened his confidence. “Right now,” he told Lady Callista, “I’m your best chance of stopping the Iron Warlord, the demon that has come for your kingdom.” His eyes darted to the Pharus, then back to the Lady of Blades. “Hailen and I know the only way you can kill him. Put aside your anger at us long enough to deal with the true threat, and you can deal with us when the city is saved.”
Heirs of Destiny Box Set Page 190
