Heirs of Destiny Box Set

by Andy Peloquin

  Slowly, the pressure against her mind diminished, the presence retreating. “I-I’m fine.” Aisha sucked in a breath and forced a smile. “Put it down to a lot of fighting and running without much food or rest.”

  “Of course.” Briana returned her smile, yet the worry glimmering in her eyes belied her understanding tone. She kept a tight hold on Aisha’s arm even after the dizziness faded.

  “I’ll be okay,” Aisha said. “Just needed to catch my breath, that’s all.”

  Though clearly unconvinced, Briana released her arm. “Well, then, let’s see what Kodyn’s found.”

  Gritting her teeth, Aisha pushed back against the voice and forced herself to climb the stairs. The presence in her mind grew stronger the higher she ascended, the pressure on her consciousness closing in like a thick fog, tightening its grasp on her thoughts. Every step became labored, the sheer effort of retaining her grip on sanity as the spirit in the tomb sought to take control of her.

  Soon, it was all Aisha could do to keep moving, place one leaden foot after the other. A low hum settled in her mind, her ears, her thoughts. Without the Dy’nashia, she could feel the presence awaiting her above yet struggled to hear it clearly. She’d relinquished the pendant to open the vault, yet now she needed it more than ever. It was the only thing that would give her clarity, allow her to focus her Umoyahlebe powers to communicate with the spirit.

  The battle grew more difficult, yet Aisha fought on. She was a warrior of the Ukuza, an apprentice in House Phoenix, a warrior to the core. Her life had been one battle after another, an endless struggle. Watching her father claimed by the Inkuleko. Her capture and enslavement by the Bloody Hand. Her trials in the Night Guild. The challenges here in Shalandra. They had hardened her in mind as well as body.

  Sweat streamed down her face from the effort, but she climbed upward, one foot after the other. She would fight against the spirit, against the voice threatening to shatter her mind. Until her last breath, she would battle on. It was all she knew to do.

  To her surprise, she felt a sense of approbation echoing in her mind. No words, at least none she could hear clearly, but a sort of respect from one warrior to another. The pressure in her skull diminished and she could finally breathe once more.

  For the first time, she noticed her surroundings. The walls bordering the spiral staircase were etched with those strange Serenii runes, illuminated by the white light of the glowstones. Yet a deep azure glow leaked into the stairway from above and around the corner. The buzzing in her head rose to a painful crescendo as she reached the top of the stairs and stepped into the small stone chamber.

  “Look at this!” Kodyn breathed.

  Her eyes snapped to the room’s single object and the source of the blue glow. Shaped like a casket, it stood as high as her chest and five paces long. Resting atop the base of pure white stone was a lid that appeared carved from a single massive blue gemstone. Long tubes as thick as her forearm wrist and made of an unfamiliar soft, flexible, transparent material ran from the far end of the blocky object into the floor. Even from this distance, there was no denying the power that hummed from that mystical coffin.

  Through the transparent azure material, Aisha could see the figure that lay encased within: a man, with long, dark hair, skin the golden color of a Shalandran, but with the broad, blunt features of a warrior. Heavy muscles rippled his bare shoulders and forearms, and strong hands gripped a long, curved dagger to his thick chest.

  Aisha’s gaze was pulled upward, toward the blue-white figure that hovered above the body. She knew the spirit in an instant—every man, woman, and child in Shalandra would recognize the stern, war-like features carved into the mountainside above the Palace of Golden Eternity.

  Hallar.

  The spirit bowed, a fierce smile broadening his chiseled face. He fixed empty eyes on her and his mouth moved. The buzzing in Aisha’s mind returned. With effort, she focused on the spirit’s voice.

  Long have I waited for this day, child of spirits, Hallar rumbled in her mind. The day foretold in the prophecy of the ancients.

  “Blessed Hallar!”

  The Pharus’ gasp shattered Aisha’s concentration. She was roughly dragged back from her communion with the spirit and back to the physical. The voice of Hallar faded to the buzzing in the back of her thoughts, painful yet tolerable…barely. Drained by the effort of focusing on the voices, Aisha leaned against the stone wall, her legs trembling. She’d try to speak with Hallar again, but first she needed to recover.

  All in the chamber seemed as profoundly affected as her. Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres bowed low to the figure lying in the glowing casket. Issa’s face had gone rigid, her eyes filled with awe. Reverence etched the expressions of Lady Callista, Hykos, and Etai. Even Briana and Evren appeared astounded.

  Hailen alone showed no sign of surprise. His expression had tightened, growing grim as if at a painful or abhorrent memory.

  The Pharus ran his hands over the gemstone lid. “What is it?”

  “It’s called a Chamber of Sustenance,” Hailen said. His brow furrowed, a frown tugging at his lips. He alone made no move to approach the casket. “It’s what the Serenii use to sustain Kharna in his fight against the Great Devourer.”

  The Pharus snatched his hand back as if burned. The four Blades stepped back, gripping their weapons tighter as if facing a threat. Kodyn also retreated, but Briana actually moved toward the casket, her expression rapt, her eyes glowing in the brilliant blue light.

  “In Enarium,” Evren explained, “there are twenty-four towers of pure crystal set at the points of the compass.” His voice echoed with wonderment. “They gather the power of the sun, channel it through the Lost City to feed Kharna.”

  Revulsion, shock, astonishment, even fear played across the faces of the four Keeper’s Blades and the Pharus.

  Evren turned to Hailen. “I always pictured them as beautiful, but this…” He shook his head. “This is amazing.”

  Hailen nodded slowly. “Beautiful, indeed.” His voice was heavy, dour. “But their beauty belies the danger they pose. The chambers consume the power of those encased within, but not all can survive the ordeal.” He shuddered. “So many turned to ash, their bodies burned from the inside out, all in the name of safeguarding our world.”

  Aisha’s eyes returned to the spirit. Hallar’s figure glowed the same blue-white as the other Kish’aa she’d encountered.

  You died in there to save the world?

  His mouth moved in reply, and Aisha struggled to concentrate, to attune her mind to hearing his words.

  …did it for the sake of Einan, an oath sworn by myself and those of my blood, Hallar’s voice rumbled with the force of a rockslide. Yet I could not forsake my city. I remained to await the day when the prophecy would be fulfilled.

  A stone settled in Aisha’s gut. Hallar’s mission wasn’t completed yet. He had stayed to watch over Shalandra. He would not rest until she accomplished his true purpose.

  Yet he spoke of “the prophecy fulfilled”. Did he truly expect her to unleash the Final Destruction? If he was a Bucelarii, offspring of demons, he could be just as cruel, greedy, and bloodthirsty as the Iron Warlord. Was his mission to destroy the city he’d founded?

  It didn’t make sense. The spirit had spoken of “an oath sworn by those of his blood”. Kodyn had told her of the Hunter’s vow to Kharna, to protect the world and sustain the Serenii in his fight against the Great Devourer. If that was the oath of which Hallar spoke, that meant he sought to protect the world. Protect his city, rather than see it destroyed. That all-encompassing desire to safeguard Shalandra echoed through her mind with burning intensity.

  The spirit of Hallar reached out a hand and pointed toward the far wall of the room. She felt a tug on her limbs, a sudden twitch of muscles and nerves that pulled her in the direction indicated. Aisha wrestled against that invisible force. She was in command of her mind and body. The spirits could not control her.

  Beyond that door lies your
destiny, child of spirits! Hallar’s voice thundered in her mind. Pain rattled through her skull, and Aisha gritted her teeth against a cry.

  Despite her efforts, her body moved, her limbs controlled by the commanding presence of Hallar. She moved toward the wall, her eyes fixed on what appeared to be blank stone. Her hand reached out of its own accord and rested against the wall. Power hummed through the rock, setting her fingers trembling.

  It might look like nothing but, like so many of Shalandra’s hidden secrets, the simplicity was a mere façade to conceal the truth.

  Aisha turned and held out a hand. “Kodyn, pass me the glowstone.” Even that small movement proved challenging; Hallar’s spirit sought to take control of her body, but she fought it with every fiber of her being.

  “You found something?” Kodyn asked as he hurried over and passed her the palm-sized green stone.

  “Maybe.” The strain on her muscles diminished as she turned back to the wall. Hallar wanted her to get through; he’d only fight her efforts to resist his will.

  As she held up the glowstone, bright green runes flared to life along the wall. She’d found the doorway—but to what?

  Anxiety twisted in her gut. She had no desire to unleash the Final Destruction upon Shalandra, yet she feared what Hallar would do if she refused to fulfill his mission. The inevitable battle with a spirit as powerful as Shalandra’s founder could lead to her Unshackling. Without the Dy’nashia to enhance her powers and store his spirit, she would be at his mercy. The more she fought to resist, the farther her mind would be drawn into the realm of the spirits.

  Yet she had come to Shalandra to find her destiny, a destiny Hallar promised lay behind this door. Whatever that was, she would face it like a true warrior.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Evren couldn’t tear his eyes from the corpse lying in the Chamber of Sustenance. Despite the golden skin and the ancient Shalandran dress, something about the man there reminded him of the Hunter. A certain agelessness to his stern warrior’s features. A darkness to his presence.

  Yet it was the dagger that held his gaze riveted. The long, curved dagger free of all adornments save a crystal clear gemstone set into its pommel.

  A second Im’tasi?

  The blade resembled those worn by Indomitables and Keeper’s Blades, a companion to their two-handed flammards. But the sense of power it oozed, an almost menacing air that radiated through the sapphire lid of the chamber, that was all too similar to Soulhunger.

  Drawing one of his throwing daggers, he inserted the tip of into the crack between base and lid. He’d heard the Hunter’s story about searching the Chambers of Sustenance—a fact Evren still had no idea how to process—and how the lids were locked by some internal mechanism that could be pried open.

  “What are you doing?” Lady Callista demanded.

  Before she could stop him, he pushed down, hard. Something gave a loud crack and the lid opened slowly with a loud hiss, like steam released from a boiling kettle.

  A hand gripped him by the collar, hauled him backward, and slammed him against a nearby wall. “You dare desecrate Hallar’s resting place?” Lady Callista’s eyes flashed, her teeth bared in a snarl. “One more charge to add to the list of crimes for which you will stand trial when this is all over.”

  Evren met her glare with stubborn defiance. “At least it means we’ll have survived the ordeal. Thanks to me.” He couldn’t tell her the truth: the sight of the Im’tasi dagger on Hallar’s chest had given him a renewed hope. The Blade of Hallar might be out of his grasp—Lady Callista would never relinquish it—but if he could get his hands on this second blade, he still had a hope of fulfilling his mission.

  With a growl, Lady Callista released Evren’s tunic roughly. Issa, Etai, and Hykos all watched him, their eyes narrowed slightly. Evren straightened his clothes, jaw clenched.

  Hailen’s expression drew his eye. The boy was also staring at the dagger on Hallar’s chest, his eyes filled with a grim purpose. He, too, knew the truth of that blade.

  In the battle to come, they’d need a dagger like Soulhunger. Few weapons were capable of killing a demon, and unless the Blades carried iron, the Im’tasi blade was their best hope. They might not be able to see that now, but when they won, they would realize the truth of what he’d done. He could bear the scorn and suspicion for a little longer if it meant they survived the Iron Warlord.

  His heart sank as the Pharus strode to stand beside the now-open Chamber of Sustenance and reached for the Im’tasi dagger. Hallar’s hands clasped the sheath, but the Pharus slid the blade free with cautious reverence. He held it up, his eyes fixed on the weapon.

  “A simple blade, yet in the hands of my ancestor, a tool of power. With this and his mighty blade—” He glanced at Lady Callista’s sword. “—Hallar conquered the peoples of the Yawmani Mountains and carved our glorious city from Alshuruq itself. Now, it has passed to me to wield in defense of Shalandra once more.”

  Wonderment filled his smile as he slid the dagger into his belt. He never released the blade’s hilt, as if afraid he’d lose it the moment he moved his hand away.

  Damn it! Evren stifled a curse. The Pharus had just made his task of claiming the Im’tasi weapon infinitely more difficult.

  “Briana, Hailen,” Kodyn’s voice echoed from the far side of the room. “Can you read this?”

  The call snapped his attention toward the Praamian. Aisha and Kodyn stood next to a wall that now shone with emerald green runes. In the center of the brilliant mandala of glyphs, he caught sight of a black stone. But, unlike the stones that had unlocked the vault or the tomb, this was far larger, larger even than an outstretched hand. Threads of crimson ran through the smooth black surface, like lines of glowing blood.

  Briana and Hailen hurried to join the two.

  “It’s a line from the Prophecy of the Final Destruction!” Briana said.

  Hailen translated the Serenii runes into Einari. “Hallar’s blood will rise once more.” He exchanged a glance with Briana. “Any idea what that means? Like it’s literal blood?”

  Briana hesitated. “Maybe.”

  “Like the trial of steel.” Lady Callista spoke up.

  Issa’s face twisted into a frown. “When I claimed my sword in the Crucible, there was a prick in my palm.”

  Lady Callista nodded. “That is how the flammards know that you are blessed by the Long Keeper. The Secret Keepers imbue the Shalandran steel blades with ancient Serenii magic.” She raised her own sword. “All the flammards are crafted after the Blade of Hallar. It, too, chooses its wielder. The Elders of the Blade are elected, but the Lord of Blades is chosen by Hallar himself. Through our blood.”

  Hailen’s brows furrowed. “So if this will only open when Hallar’s blood rises—”

  The Pharus stepped forward. “I am the descendent of Hallar.”

  Evren’s heart leapt as the Pharus removed his hand from the Im’tasi dagger on his belt. Hope sprang to life within him. There’d come a time when the Pharus’ attention would waver. He’d be ready.

  A memory flashed through Evren’s mind. He knelt beside a feverish Brother Modestus, watching the man waste away before his eyes. The Cambionari’s final words had been to “stop the prophecy and save the world”. He’d been sent to Shalandra to steal the Blade of Hallar—not only to retrieve the Im’tasi weapon, but to prevent Hallar’s prophesized “Final Destruction”.

  He had no idea how to stop the “Final Destruction”—fiery hell, if it saved the city from the Iron Warlord and his army of Stumblers, they might have no choice but to unleash it—but he could choose to save the world. And to do that, he’d need the Im’tasi blade. If not the Blade of Hallar, then the dagger, that one no one else but he and Hailen knew were weapons of immense power in the right hands. Or weapons of terrible death in the hands of the Iron Warlord.

  And he’d do whatever it took to stop the demon from killing his friends and destroying Einan.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

&n
bsp; Kodyn moved aside, making way for the Pharus to approach the gemstone. The Pharus placed his hand on the black-and-crimson stone and gave a little wince. Kodyn held his breath in expectation of the door sliding open, but after long seconds, nothing happened.

  Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres stared down at the blood on his palm. “B-But…” His golden skin turned a ghastly pale. “That isn’t possible. My family…the legends!” He looked stunned, like a pole-axed ox.

  Aisha’s head suddenly snapped around, her eyes fixed on Issa.

  Her? Kodyn’s brow furrowed.

  Issa, not seeming to notice Aisha’s scrutiny, stepped forward. “Let me try.” Her voice echoed with hesitation, and her movements were tentative as she drew in a breath and slowly reached out her hand. Her jaw muscles clenched as she touched the gemstone and her hand came away bloody. Yet, a heartbeat later, a vast mechanism within the door thunked. Stone grumbled on stone and the wall slid aside, revealing a second glowstone-lit spiral staircase.

  But Kodyn couldn’t tear his eyes from Issa. Fiery hell! She is Hallar’s blood?

  Confusion set his mind racing. Issa, Prototopoi of the Keeper’s Blades, was somehow descended from the Bucelarii that had founded Shalandra? It seemed impossible, yet he’d just witnessed the truth with his own eyes. Her blood had opened the door.

  The Pharus turned toward Lady Callista, a question forming on his lips. Shouts, clashing steel, and the cries of battle echoed up the staircase, cutting off his words.

  “Go!” Lady Callista shouted. “To the next level.” She whirled to Hykos and Etai. “Hold this doorway!”

  “Yes, Proxenos.” Hykos saluted.

  “No one gets through us,” Etai growled. “Legion of Stumblers be damned.”

  Issa looked sick, her face grim and pale, her eyes locked on Hykos. Hykos met her eyes and, with a little smile and wink, turned to take up position left of the descending staircase. Etai shot Issa a determined grin and joined Hykos on the right.