Storm of Chaos

by Andy Peloquin

  Her brow furrowed. Is that what she wants? She didn’t dare touch the pendant around her neck—it likely belonged to the Temple of Whispers, and she had no desire to draw Uryan’s attention to it. Without it, she would lose her connection to the spirits and would be forced to rely on the Whispering Lily.

  Which meant she had to puzzle out the meaning of Thimara’s image on her own.

  “Thimara kept notes, right?” she asked, hesitant. “On her research into the Azure Rot.”

  Uryan gave a stiff nod.

  “Could there be something in there to indicate exactly what she uncovered before her death?”

  The stern-faced woman’s eyes narrowed “If she had discovered the source of the Azure Rot, she would have reported it to me at once.”

  Aisha nodded. “Yes, but I believe it’s possible she learned the truth too late to let you know in person.” She paused, uncertain how to say what she had seen. “Perhaps she tried to write something with her last breath?”

  Uryan inhaled sharply. “How could you know that?”

  Aisha debated a long moment how to answer that question. The last thing she wanted was to be locked away in the Temple of Whispers for the Secret Keepers to learn the truth of her Umoyahlebe powers—or condemned to join the madmen in the Illusionist’s Temple.

  Uryan saved her from having to respond. “She had a piece of paper in her hand when I found her.” Pain darkened her face and a barely perceptible tremor ran through her hands as she continued. “It contained nothing but scribbles.”

  “May I see it?” Aisha asked.

  “Why?” A short, sharp gesture accompanied by a suspicious glare.

  “Because I may see something you didn’t,” Aisha said. It was a lame answer, yet better than trying to explain the truth. “I’m certain you knew Thimara better than anyone else, but if there’s even a chance that I could help, isn’t it worth taking that chance?”

  Uryan’s lips pressed into a near-invisible line, her face drawn and pinched. Finally, she gave a minute shrug. “I will bring them before the hour of departure arrives.” She paused a moment, her hands held out as if intending to speak. But she seemed to think better of it and turned away, arms by her side.

  Thimara’s emotions burst to life within Aisha as the Secret Keeper strode from the room. Sorrow, longing, remorse, and devotion so strong it thickened her throat.

  “Aisha?” Kodyn’s voice echoed behind her. “What’s wrong?”

  Aisha swallowed the rising lump and turned to face the young man. “Nothing.” She smiled. “Things are actually better than I expected.”

  Kodyn cocked an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  Aisha nodded. “Before her death, Thimara cracked the truth of the poison that is causing the Azure Rot. She tried to write it down. There’s a chance, a small one, that she’ll be able to explain the cause through me.” She screwed up her face in thought. “All I got from her last time is a vague sense of what was wrong, but maybe when Thimara’s spirit looks at her notes, she might be able to help me understand it better.” She shrugged. “I know it sounds mad, but—”

  “Hey, if it helps us save the people of Shalandra and neutralize this poison, I’m all for it.”

  Kodyn’s reassuring grin brought the lump back to her throat. But this time, the feelings were all hers. She couldn’t help loving his staunch support of her, given how mad her words sounded. A near-overpowering urge to kiss him gripped her.

  Warmth suffused her and brought a smile to her lips. “Well, until she brings it, I say we focus on getting ready for the attack on the Heartspring.” She drew her assegai and made a show of studying the spearhead. “I don’t know about you, but I haven’t had a chance to sharpen my weapons since the day we arrived in Shalandra.”

  “Fair point.” Kodyn pulled his own daggers and winced at the nicks in the blades. “Errik would kill me if he saw the state of my weapons.”

  “Kill the both of us.” With a grin, Aisha produced a pair of whetstones from within her pouch and tossed him one. “Better get to it, then.”

  They sat on the bed, side by side, near enough that Aisha could reach out and touch him if she wanted. Yet his presence alone and his bright smile was all the reassurance she needed.

  Aisha settled into the mundane simplicity of the repetitive task. The low, rasping sound of their whetstones on steel brought back memories of happy times in Praamis. They had trained together under Master Serpent, learning the art of combat and death from the Night Guild’s foremost assassin. Errik had highlighted the importance of keeping their weapons sharp and ready for battle. In many ways, their friendship had begun as they sat honing their blades side by side.

  It felt so strange to be right back here again. They were hundreds of leagues from their home, in a place few in the world ever saw, surrounded by enemies. Yet even here, in this strange city, they could find that familiar spark of joy. It was what made them so right for each other, had kept them as the best of friends despite all of the darkness and cruelty that surrounded them in the Night Guild every day.

  “How long is that going to take?” Hailen’s voice cut into Aisha’s thoughts.

  She turned to find the young boy staring at them with an irritated scowl. “What?”

  “The sharpening!” Hailen thrust a finger at the whetstone in her hands. “The Hunter always likes to do that when he’s mulling over a dilemma or trying to solve a problem.” He shuddered. “It grates on my nerves so bad. I hate it!”

  “Oh, sorry.” Aisha looked down at her spearhead. “I can stop.”

  Hailen nodded. “Thanks.” He rolled his head to loosen up the muscles of his neck. “Kind of hard to get any reading done with that rasping sound.” He sighed. “It’s already hard enough just to understand Suroth’s coded translations of a translation of an ancient Serenii text without any noise. Listen to this.”

  “Maybe you should take a break,” Briana suggested gently from the chair beside him.

  “Yeah, I’ll just take a quick stroll around the block.” Hailen’s tone was sharp, his expression flat. “Oh, wait, no I can’t.”

  Briana’s face fell.

  Shame burned in the young boy’s eyes. “Sorry.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “I’m not blaming you, Briana. I know you did what you had to for all of our sakes. It’s just that I escaped the Cambionari in Voramis because I was sick of being cooped up. I didn’t think I’d be right back here so—”

  “Cambionari?” Kodyn asked. “Those are the demon-hunting priests of the Beggar God, right?”

  Hailen nodded.

  Kodyn’s brow furrowed. “If you’re one of them, why not go to them instead of staying here?” He turned to Briana with a questioning glance. “Can the Secret Keepers attack other priests in order to keep their secrets?”

  “I’m not really Cambionari.” Hailen shook his head. “More like I was their student. They were teaching me how to use my powers.”

  “To hunt demons?” Briana asked. Aisha had been beside Briana when Kodyn relayed his mother’s story of the monster that had worn Lord Chasteyn’s face.

  “In part.” Hailen inclined his head. “But there’s more to it than that. As the last Melechha, I think my blood is the only thing that can save the world from the Great Devourer. But in order to do that, I need to understand as much about the Serenii as possible. I have to understand how their magic works, because it’s their magic that’s going to seal the rift.”

  Aisha felt a moment of compassion for the young boy. Her Umoyahlebe gifts seemed a featherweight compared to the monumental burden he bore. The survival of all mankind and the fate of Einan rested on his shoulders. She could see why Evren was so protective of Hailen—not only as his brother, but as the hope for all of Einan’s survival.

  “Tell you what?” Aisha grinned. “If it helps you save all of us from the Great Devourer, I’ll put away my whetstone. Seems a fair trade, right?”

  The joke brought a smile to Hailen’s face—a small one, but genuine, pi
ercing his weariness. “Yeah, sounds good.”

  “Next chance I get,” Briana said, “I’ll talk Ennolar into giving you a chance to walk around the temple.”

  Aisha had seen Briana “talk”; the Shalandran could be more convincing than a donkey kick to the gut.

  “Thank you.” Relief brightened in Hailen’s violet eyes. “I’d like that.” He turned back to the desk, but paused, glancing over his shoulder at Aisha and Kodyn. “When you’re out there,” he said in a quiet voice, “see if you can find Evren for me? It’s been a while since he left and…”

  “We’ll keep an eye out.” Kodyn stepped closer and placed a hand on Hailen’s shoulder. “He’s one of us, just like you are. We watch out for our own.”

  Hailen’s grin brightened the gloom of the small stone chamber. A renewed determination sparkled in his eyes as he sat and hunched over Suroth’s journal once more.

  Aisha shot Kodyn a warm smile. She’d always admired the way he took the younger Hawks under his wing, like with Sid. He had protected them, just as he now protected Hailen.

  The sound of whooshing air caused Aisha to turn, in time to see the wall sliding open and Uryan striding into the room. Deep lines of sorrow etched her pinched face, and in her hands she carried a crumpled fragment of parchment.

  The Guardian strode toward her without a word and thrust the scrap of papyrus toward Aisha. Aisha drew in a deep breath and took the outstretched parchment. Striding to the nearest glowing gemstone, she reached for the pendant and closed her eyes.

  Thimara, now’s your chance to show me the truth.

  The spark of Thimara’s life flared bright the moment Aisha’s fingers made contact with the stone pendant. The spirit didn’t try to seize control of Aisha’s body as it had before; instead, it simply flooded her mind with thoughts, a desperate urgency.

  Aisha’s eyelids popped open and her gaze fixed on the scrap of parchment. Crude, illegible scribbles dotted its surface. Aisha couldn’t make sense of them, yet Thimara’s presence filled her with a strange sense of understanding. Not an understanding of what was written, but what the dying Secret Keeper had intended to write.

  Again, that acidic bite returned to her stomach, accompanied by the image of a clear liquid. This time, however, she had more than a vague sense. She could actually feel what the spirit wanted to say.

  “Blistering Hemlock!” Thimara’s words burst from Aisha’s lips. “Black Thistle Powder and ground Bloodcap mixed with Raven Hedgevine.”

  Uryan’s face paled. “How?” Her fingers trembled as she formed the word. Long moments passed before she recovered from her shock and managed to continue. “Thimara had come up with that formula, but discarded it as useless.”

  “Yes.” Aisha felt Thimara’s presence burning bright within her, filling her with hope. “But mix in Silent Goldenglow and it works!”

  This staggered Uryan. The stern-faced Guardian actually took a step backward and reached for the wall to steady herself.

  “Such a thing would be impossible!” Uryan shook her head. “Destroying the poison requires an immense amount of heat, such as generated by an open flame or a smith’s forge. But that would burn the victims’ skin long before it counteracted the toxin. Such heat needs to be generated from the inside out to have any effect.”

  “Maybe, but maybe not!” Excitement echoed in Briana’s voice, and she leapt to her feet. “Silent Goldenglow causes a fever!”

  Uryan’s eyes narrowed. “A fever,” she repeated the words, “that, if hot enough, would burn out the poison.” Her lips pressed into a frustrated line. “But it would kill its victims first unless we could find a way to stop the brain and heart from overheating.”

  A word flashed into Aisha’s mind, clear as crystal. It made no sense to her, but she said it aloud anyway. “What about Frostcure?”

  Briana and Uryan’s eyes widened.

  Briana recovered from her surprise first. “Use the ice stones! My father told me of their purpose, used to preserve plants and animals that require extreme cold.”

  Uryan scowled. “It seems the Arch-Guardian shared more secrets with you than we believed.”

  Briana ignored her. “But wouldn’t they work just as well in this case? At least for the direly ill, those on death’s door. The cold should help to protect their brains and hearts as the fever burns away the poison!”

  The Secret Keeper remained silent for a long moment, her expression pensive. Finally, she shook her head. “I do not know, but it is worth experimenting with.” She fixed Aisha with a meaningful stare. “If that is what Thimara wrote, perhaps she believed it was the best way.”

  Aisha handed her the parchment. “I hope so.” She knew it was true.

  A spark leapt from Aisha’s hand to Uryan’s as the Guardian took the paper. The woman jumped and pulled her hand away, startled. Her brow furrowed and she stared at Aisha for a long, silent moment. Then slowly, her expression changed. Her mouth relaxed, color returned to her bloodless lips, and a hint of a smile actually cracked her stern façade.

  “Thank you.” A simple gesture, yet the look in Uryan’s eyes spoke volumes. Her expression held gratitude for not only uncovering a potential cure, but for the words about Thimara.

  Aisha felt her lips return the smile—Thimara’s action, not her own.

  With a nod, the Secret Keeper left.

  Aisha turned back to her friends and found Briana, Kodyn, and even Hailen staring at her. “What?” she asked.

  Kodyn smiled. “You know what.” He gestured toward the door. “All that, with the crazy knowledge and understanding those scribbles.”

  Aisha blushed. “It’s not me, really. It’s Thimara…she’s the one—”

  “You’re doing it, too,” Kodyn said with a wink. “And making it look good.”

  Aisha’s blush deepened. A warm glow settled over her, filling her with happiness.

  “Come on,” she said, sheathing her spear, “there’s one more thing I need to do before we go.”

  Kodyn’s eyebrows rose, questioning.

  Aisha held out a hand. “Just trust me.”

  Without hesitation, Kodyn took her outstretched hand. Aisha opened the door and led Kodyn down the passage toward the front chamber and out of the vault-like Temple of Whispers.

  Outside, the last rays of the afternoon light had turned to dark grey, the sun long set. The moon had just begun to shine its brilliant face down on the city and the first stars dotted the evening sky.

  Aisha relished the cool breeze that wafted across her face, the warmth of Kodyn’s strong hand in hers. He followed her without hesitation, a strong presence at her back, comforting in his silent acceptance.

  As they reached the Sanctuary, she released his hand. “Watch my back, will you? This is important.”

  Curiosity shone bright in Kodyn’s honey eyes, but he said nothing, simply nodded.

  Drawing in a long breath, she turned toward the Sanctuary—toward the hundreds of blue-white spirits clustered around the temple where they had breathed their last. Empty eyes fixed on her, open mouths pleading for vengeance, for justice. But now, Aisha understood the meaning of their cries. They had been murdered—killed by a poison masquerading as disease—and they wanted her to avenge their deaths.

  She clasped the pendant around her neck and suddenly the voice sharpened. Their words echoed in her mind, their pleas for justice and vengeance clear as crystal.

  Once, Aisha might have fled or flinched from the intensity of their cries. Now, she stepped toward them. Come! She held out her free hand toward the Kish’aa. Come, and you will have your vengeance!

  Spirits of the dead rushed toward her, a tidal wave of blue-white light that only she could see. The moment they touched her outstretched hands, their energy faded, absorbed into her body. Energy crackled down her arm and settled deep in the core of her being. The images, memories, and emotions of a dozen lives and deaths flashed through her mind. She staggered beneath the onslaught yet forced herself to stand firm.


  The power of the spirits flooded her, filled her to overflowing, then rushed into the locket beneath her fingers. She pulled in the Kish’aa until it felt as if she would explode. Lightning set every nerve in her body tingling, every muscle alight with flames. Blue-white sparks danced between her fingers, crackled in her veins, burned away every trace of fatigue.

  Finally, she could take no more. Her hand fell by her side and she stepped back, her body humming with brilliant energy. She gasped as she glanced down at the pendant around her neck. The once-black stone was now a burning blue-white. Light consumed the entire stone, shimmering in its depths.

  It truly was a storehouse for the power of the spirits!

  A sense of awe washed over her, and she tucked the pendant quickly into her shirt as she turned back to Kodyn.

  Kodyn’s jaw dropped. “Aisha, you look…” He swallowed and blinked, as if at as some impossible phantasm. “…powerful!”

  Aisha grinned. “The Kish’aa cry for vengeance against their murderers. And by the Keeper, they will have it!”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Kodyn replayed the scene from outside the Sanctuary in his mind for the tenth time in the last hour. He hadn’t actually seen anything—she’d simply stretched out her hand toward the temple—but he could almost swear he’d felt something. A strange whisper of power, like the tang that hung in the air just after a lightning strike.

  Worry had twisted in his gut as he watched her muscles twitch, and he’d almost stepped forward to catch her when she staggered back. Yet when she had turned around to face him, the blue-white sparks dancing through her choclat-brown eyes shocked him. He had wanted to watch that play of light for hours. That had made her even more beautiful to him, filled with so much life and energy.

  The memories of their first kiss sprang to the forefront of his mind and sent blistering heat racing through his body. He pushed back against the pleasant distraction. His focus at that moment had to be on stopping the Gatherers from poisoning the city’s water. If they didn’t, everyone in Shalandra—from the Palace of Golden Eternity to the lowest Mahjuri—could wind up dead.