That’s definitely him.
It took the better part of half an hour for the mud-covered man to reach the front of the line. The white-robed Ministrants handed him his portion of food without question, though one of the Indomitables on guard muttered something that elicited a laugh from his companions. The man said nothing, simply bore the abuse and slipped out of the line. But instead of returning back east, the way he’d come, he hurried in the opposite direction.
Right toward Kodyn’s perch.
Let’s see where you’re headed.
Kodyn rose to a crouch and slipped along the rooftops in pursuit of the mud-covered man. The first gap was narrow enough for him to jump over with ease, and he had little trouble following Handsome toward a nearby side street that cut north, away from the Way of Chains. The sandstone walls and heavy wooden roof beams provided him with sturdy footing, though he had to be cautious to stay out of Handsome’s hearing range and line of sight.
Two streets away from the Way of Chains, Handsome cut west then south once more, doubling back on his trail. Kodyn kept pace, his eyes fixed on the man’s movements, trying to anticipate his next evasive maneuver. His heart stopped as Handsome approached the Way of Chains once more. If he heads south, there’s no way I can follow him on the rooftops. He’d waste precious time descending and crossing the main avenue.
To his relief, Handsome doubled back east one street before reaching the Way of Chains. The assassin was taking no chances; he’d have shaken all but the most dogged of pursuers, and still he continued to take precautions.
Sweat streamed down Kodyn’s forehead and soaked his tunic from the effort of scrambling over the steep-sloped rooftops. The sagging, rotting thatch of the poorly maintained Mahjuri homes made for slow going. If he didn’t place his feet just right, he could fall through a crumbling roof. If the fall didn’t injure him or alert Handsome to his presence, he’d waste precious time recovering and possibly lose sight of the assassin.
The sun had now risen high above the eastern cliff face, and Kodyn was keenly aware of the danger daylight posed. Handsome had but to glance up once and he would have no trouble spotting Kodyn outlined against the bright morning sky. But Kodyn had no choice—he’d have little chance of tracking Handsome on the streets.
The assassin headed steadily northward now, threading east and west along the various alleys and back lanes between the Way of Chains and the golden sandstone wall that served as the northern border of the Slave’s Tier. Here, however, the houses were in even worse condition, and Kodyn struggled to match Handsome’s speed.
His gut clenched as the assassin ducked into a narrow lane. He was only a few houses away from the street, but it was nearly half a minute before Kodyn reached it.
Damn it! The gap between his current rooftop and the next one was just too broad for him to leap. He’d have to descend to the street, thereby losing even more time in his pursuit of the assassin.
He didn’t bother climbing down—he simply jumped to a one-story building nearby and leapt the distance to the stone street. His feet slipped on a pile of debris and he narrowly managed to catch himself from falling or twisting his ankle. He bit back a grunt as sharp pain raced up the side of his leg. The twinge slowed him further, forcing him to hobble the last few paces to the alleyway the assassin had entered.
Kodyn’s jaw dropped. What in the bloody hell?
The alley was empty. Handsome had disappeared.
Chapter Ten
A gentle hand shook Evren’s shoulder. “Wake up,” Hailen said in a low voice.
Evren shot upright, eyes popping open, and his hand flew to his dagger. “Where are they?” He’d half-drawn the jambiya before remembering where he was.
The plain stone walls of the Temple of Whispers met his darting gaze. The only light in the room came from the alchemical lantern sitting atop the desk. Briana’s figure, hunched over her pestle and mortar, cast long shadows across the chamber.
He blinked the sleep from his eyes. “How long was I out?” he asked, a yawn escaping his lips.
“Three, maybe four hours.” Hailen grinned. “You fell asleep studying the map. Probably would have drooled on it, too, if I hadn’t moved it.”
Evren snorted. “I don’t drool when I sleep.”
Hailen cocked an eyebrow and his violet eyes flashed toward the damp spot on the pillow.
Evren’s face deepened to a scowl. “Why did you let me sleep?” Another yawn, this one much wider, muffled the last word.
“She insisted.” Hailen glanced over his shoulder at Briana, who remained staring at something in the stone mortar. “Said you needed your rest.”
Evren wanted to protest; he had so much to do—learning the tunnels that led to the Vault of Ancients, chief among them—that sleep was a luxury he could ill-afford. Yet he had to admit the rest had done him good. He felt more awake and alert, his muscles rested, the aches from the previous days’ exertion diminished. Even the throbbing in his skull, courtesy of an Indomitable’s baton, had faded.
“Thanks, I guess.” Evren stood and stretched, working out the kinks that had formed in his back and neck from the awkward sleeping position.
Hailen sat on the bed and ran a hand through his hair. Suddenly, Evren noticed how tired the boy looked. Deep, dark grey circles had formed around his eyes, and he seemed to struggle to keep his eyelids from closing. His shoulders were slumped and he sat hunched forward, his arms wrapped around his waist.
“How are you doing?” He spoke in a gentle voice, his tone pitched low for the boy’s ears only.
“Good.” Hailen’s tone failed miserably to sell the lie.
Evren snorted. “Try to be a little less convincing, eh?”
Hailen turned his palms up. “I’m tired, okay?”
“Too much reading and researching?” Evren sat beside the boy. “I know you left Voramis because you wanted to escape all that. If you want a break, we can head outside, take a walk through the marketplaces.” He hated the idea of taking Hailen out of the safety of the Temple of Whispers, but the boy clearly needed a break.
“Sure.”
Something about Hailen’s tone set Evren’s instincts on high alert. “Hailen, what aren’t you telling me?”
The boy glanced up at him, a hint of fear and worry mingled with the exhaustion in his eyes.
“Hailen,” Evren pushed. “What’s wrong?”
The boy hesitated a moment before letting out a long breath. He seemed to crumple, his drooping expression mirrored in the sudden sag of his shoulders. “I can’t leave.”
“What?” Evren went rigid. “What do you mean?”
Hailen shot a glance at Briana and spoke barely above a whisper. “She told the Secret Keepers about me.”
The room went suddenly cold, and Evren felt as if the breath had been sucked from his lungs. No!
Hailen was Melechha, the last living descendent of the ancient Serenii. His blood, which could activate Serenii magic, made him potentially the most powerful person on Einan. That was the sort of power many people would kill to possess. And Briana had just placed him in the clutches of the Secret Keepers, priests who guarded their secrets with fanatical and lethal zeal.
The icy chill dimmed as anger flared hot in Evren’s gut. “How dare she?” He clenched his fists and leapt to his feet. He was about to storm toward Briana when Hailen’s hand snatched his wrist and dragged him back onto the bed.
“No!” Hailen hissed. “She had no choice.”
“No choice?” Evren’s voice threatened to rise above an angry whisper. “That was not her—”
“Listen!” Hailen cut him off with a slash of his hand. “She did what she had to do to keep us alive. Not just her, but all of us.”
Evren’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” he growled through clenched teeth.
“The things we learned from Suroth’s journal, we weren’t supposed to know them.” A shadow flashed behind Hailen’s eyes. “That’s the sort of information that only Secret
Keepers can have. They wouldn’t have hesitated to do whatever it took to keep it from getting out.” His jaw clenched. “Whatever. It. Took.”
Evren sucked in a breath. “They wouldn’t!” He’d heard tales of people who stole from the Temple of Whispers—of the mangled, ruined corpses that remained after the Secret Keepers finished. “She’s the daughter of their Arch-Guardian.”
“That’s the only reason they even gave her a chance to speak,” Hailen replied. “They offered her a choice: join the Secret Keepers or…” He trailed off. “Not much of a choice, really. But she found another way.”
“By offering you up to them?” Evren’s anger flared to life once more.
“Yes, by giving them a secret that no one else in Shalandra knows.” Hailen’s jaw clenched. “Me.”
Understanding dawned on Evren. Hailen had taken on the responsibility of protecting Briana. And, by extension, Evren, Kodyn, and Aisha as well. They all knew secrets the Mistress’ priests would kill to conceal.
“But—”
“No, Evren.” Hailen shook his head. “She did the right thing. For all of us. If she hadn’t, the Secret Keepers would have done something to make sure we never told anyone the secrets. They’d have taken Arch-Guardian Suroth’s journals and we’d never have found a way into the Vault of Ancients.”
Evren sucked in a breath. It seemed such a short time ago that Hailen had been a child, laughing, playing, innocent as a newborn. Now, he made decisions that men thrice his age would never be capable of considering. When did he grow so wise?
“Promise me you won’t be angry at her!” Hailen insisted. “You know what it’s like to be faced with an impossible decision. She tried her best to do right by us. Because of that decision, you and Kodyn will be able to get into the Vault of Ancients. You can get the Blade of Hallar and get it back to the Hunter.”
“And what about you?” Evren asked. “What happens once I get the blade and try to get you out of here? You think the Secret Keepers will just let you go?”
Hailen’s eyes darkened. “I…I don’t know.” He shook his head. “But for now, we’re making the best of a bad situation. We would have died if the Secret Keepers hadn’t taken us in.”
In many ways, Evren was reminded of himself at that age. He’d made the best of a bad situation when fleeing the Master’s Temple. Life on the streets had aged him quickly—life with the knowledge of his heritage had done the same to Hailen.
“Now move.” Hailen gave him a dismissive wave. “You’ve had your turn to sleep and now it’s mine.”
Evren snorted. “You’ve been spending too much time around the Dhukari. It’s made you uppity.”
Hailen lifted his nose into the air. “Away with you, lowborn.”
For answer, Evren punched the boy’s shoulder.
“Ow!” Hailen’s haughty disdain cracked, replaced by a grimace as he rubbed his arm.
“Remember what I told you about how we treat smart-asses in Vothmot.” Evren gave the boy a grin.
Hailen’s retort died on his lips as one of the room’s stone walls slid open and a Secret Keeper entered. Briana leapt to her feet, eyes fixed on the priest as his fingers flashed in silent speech.
“Thank you!” Relief echoed in Briana’s voice and shone in her eyes as she turned to Evren. “The Guardians have returned. They’re ready to speak to us.”
Evren nodded. He didn’t want to speak for fear of lashing out at Briana—despite Hailen’s words, he wasn’t quite ready to overlook the fact that the girl had offered him up in the bargain for her life. Yet he could hold his tongue and fall in step beside her.
Side by side, they followed the Secret Keeper down the hall, which led deeper into the squat stone Temple of Whispers. The passage ran for just ten paces—all smooth floors and featureless walls lit by those same glowing gemstones—before ending at a blank wall. The priest reached out and pressed a blue stone set into one wall. Stone slid silently open to reveal another small chamber as sparse as the main entrance. The single feature in this room was a stone bench along the near wall.
The Secret Keeper made a gesture that even Evren understood to mean, “Sit, wait.” His robes and slippered feet made not a sound as he glided from the room. The wall slid shut behind the departing priest, leaving Evren and Briana alone in the silent chamber.
Evren forced himself to take long, measured breaths. He was trapped in the temple, surrounded by stone walls and Keeper-knew-how-many priests. Too many bad things had happened in temples like this for him to forget. It took all his self-control not to flee.
“For what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry about your brother.” Briana’s words shattered the silence.
Evren turned to her, struggling to control the surge of anger. “You should be.”
“I know.” Briana winced. “But you heard him. We had no other choice. Not just me, but all of us. You know as well as I do what lengths the Secret Keepers will go to protect their secrets.”
Evren narrowed his eyes. “Eavesdropping on our conversation?”
“No.” Briana snorted. “It’s a small room, and you’re not exactly quiet.”
Evren’s jaw muscles clenched. A thousand insults and sharp retorts whirled in his mind—too many for him to decide which to unleash on the girl.
“But I promise I’ll make up for it,” Briana told him. “I won’t stop until I find the information you need to get into the Vault of Ancients to fulfill your mission.”
The words cooled the fire of his anger…a very little. “Thank you.” He managed to say the words without a biting edge.
Silence stretched on again between them for a long minute. Evren kept his eyes fixed on the blank walls. The feeling of being trapped hadn’t dimmed, and his anger at Briana’s betrayal of Hailen only added to the emotions roiling within him. Best he didn’t look at her until he regained control of himself.
“Do you mind if I ask you a question?” Again, Briana broke the silence first.
Evren turned and found her gaze fixed on him, curiosity burning in her eyes. “Depends on the question.”
Briana gave him a little smile. “Fair enough.” She drew in a breath but hesitated a moment before speaking. “Is it true that you were an apprentice in the Master’s Temple?”
Ice seeped into Evren’s veins. The world slowed around him, the way it did when he fought. Every thumping beat of his heart pulsed loud in his ears.
“Your brother told me,” Briana said quickly. “He also told me that you escaped the Lecterns. That you survived on the streets of Vothmot for four years on your own.”
“Yes.” Knots tightened in Evren’s shoulders, dread filling him as he awaited her question.
After a moment’s pause, Briana fixed him with a shy gaze. “How were you brave enough to do it?”
Evren’s jaw dropped. “W-What?” That was the last question he’d expected from her.
Briana swallowed. “It’s just…” She threw up her hands. “You, Kodyn, Aisha, even Hailen, you’ve been through so much, but you’re not afraid of anything. Like when the Gatherers attacked, Aisha faced them alone while I froze and hid in the corner. Hailen was ready to throw himself at them to stop them from getting to me.” Her eyes met his. “You, you weren’t afraid when you led us out of my house and brought us here.”
Evren found himself at a loss for words.
“Tell me,” Briana said, a hint of pleading in her voice, “how do you do it? How can you have courage and be strong when you know you’re about to die?”
Evren drew in a deep breath. He’d never considered himself particularly courageous—he’d simply done what was necessary to survive and protect the people that mattered to him. Yet perhaps that was the best explanation.
“I don’t think it’s about being strong for yourself,” he replied, his voice quiet. He contemplated his next words for a moment before speaking. “When I escaped the Lecterns, I did it for myself, but I also did it for a friend.” He met her gaze, a small smile on his lips. “His na
me was Daver. He was a lot like Hailen. About the same age at the time. He would never have survived in the temple, not with what…” He swallowed. “…what we were forced to do.”
The memories of his time in the Master’s Temple still haunted him. Even after all these years, he hadn’t forgotten the abuse sustained at the Lectern’s hands, the fear of what awaited him around the next corner, the terror of knowing every fight could be his last.
“But I think it was Daver that gave me the courage to run,” Evren said. “And I kept on running until I was sure Daver was safe.” He’d found a way for the young apprentice to earn a living with Kaltris, a merchant in the Summer Market. “After that, it was just surviving on the streets. Stealing, running from the Wardens, or worse. Whatever it took. And I guess I just got so used to being afraid all the time that one day I realized I was no longer afraid. I’d survived so much that I stopped worrying about what could kill me next.”
He met her eyes. “When Hailen came around, he became the someone I had to fight for. Now, there’s you…” He hesitated, warmth flushing his cheeks. He didn’t understand why he was telling her all this; he hadn’t felt so vulnerable around someone in a long time. Perhaps ever. “…and Kodyn and Aisha, too. We’re all in this fight together. As long as I’ve got that, I’ll just keep fighting until I can’t anymore.”
Briana’s expression grew pensive, but her eyes held no judgement or censure. Indeed, she actually seemed to accept his words without hesitation.
Evren suddenly seemed to see her—the real her—for the first time. Not the daughter of one of the most powerful people in Shalandra. Not the Dhukari accustomed to a life of privilege and comforts. But the truth: a young woman that had endured more heartbreak, loss, and trauma than most her age. She had lost so much, yet refused to be broken by it. She was struggling to be strong, even if she didn’t know how.
The room faded around him and his vision narrowed in on her face. He was suddenly seized by a strong desire to reach for her hand, to offer her a word of comfort, to tell her how much he admired her resilience despite everything that had happened to her. Yet something stopped him. Embarrassment, perhaps, an instinctive uncertainty at how she’d react. He might no longer see the divide between them, but what did she think of him? To her, was he just one more lowborn thief?
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