Crucible of Fortune: An Epic Fantasy Young Adult Adventure (Heirs of Destiny Book 2)

by Andy Peloquin

  She might not be her father, but she may still be able to help me get what I need. She could get him into the palace, maybe even close enough to the Vault of Ancients that he could get his hands on the Blade of Hallar. From there, it would be a simple matter of collecting Hailen and fleeing Shalandra before anyone realized what he’d done.

  Lady Briana shrugged. “Ask, and I will see what I can do.”

  Evren pondered his request, but before he settled on anything, a knock sounded at the door.

  The two bodyguards tensed, eyes fixed on the door.

  “Come in,” Lady Briana called.

  At the creak of door hinges, Evren glanced over his shoulder to find the grey-haired Nessa entering the room. Though the Steward shot a curious look his way, she addressed Briana.

  “Forgive me, my lady, but there is someone here to see you.”

  “Who is it?” Lady Briana asked.

  Nessa’s face went a shade paler and her eyes went wide. “By the looks of her, one of the Keeper’s Blades, sent by the Pharus himself!”

  Chapter Three

  What is the Pharus’ link to my family?

  The question repeated in Issa’s mind, as it had a thousand times since leaving the Palace of Golden Eternity earlier that morning. She barely saw the opulence of Arch-Guardian Suroth’s mansion, so fully the enigma consumed her.

  “Strike first, strike true.” The words had been the last her grandfather had said before the Indomitables led her away for her induction to the Keeper’s Blades. Yet Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres had said them as well—words from a Blade he once knew.

  Issa had never known her parents; she’d lived her entire life with her grandparents, who refused to speak of her father or mother. She knew nothing beyond the fact that they died in service to Shalandra. No names, no hint of who they had been or what they’d done, not even a headstone in the poorest section of the Keeper’s Crypt. Simply…nothing.

  Yet now, to find this tenuous connection to someone who might have known them—and the Pharus himself, no less!—only inflamed Issa’s burning curiosity. She had to know more.

  Had her parents, members of the Earaqi laborer caste, been servants in the palace? Had they served in the Indomitables or been chosen to become Keeper’s Blades? The way her grandfather had reacted to the news that she had been chosen by the Long Keeper as a Blade made that seem far more likely. Yet if they had been Blades, she and her grandparents would have been Dhukari, not trapped on the Cultivator’s Tier and the life of endless labor and drudgery.

  She couldn’t just march into the palace to see the Pharus. She’d have to wait until she was summoned again before posing her question. But she did have a couple of friends among the Blades that she could ask. Hykos, the Archateros that had been assigned to train her. Etai, the fellow trainee that had helped her triumph in the Crucible and again in Tannard’s cruel tests. Even if they didn’t know, they could help her find out.

  Thoughts of Tannard tightened her stomach and brought a fire of anger surging in her chest. Tannard, the stone-faced, ruthless Invictus that seemed determined to make her fail. From the first day that he’d supplanted Hykos as her trainer, the man had pushed her to the breaking point. She might have broken if not for the reassurance of her grandmother, her own innate stubbornness, and Hykos’ gestures of kindness.

  Even after the Pharus had personally thanked Issa for saving his life the previous night—she’d been the one to raise the alarm, and she had personally slain eleven assassins—Tannard had shattered her momentary elation.

  “This reward does not give you a way to escape me,” he’d snarled at her. “We’re not done, not by a long shot, little Earaqi. We’re just getting started!”

  Perhaps her assignment to Lady Briana could be a good thing. At the very least, babysitting the Dhukari girl will keep me out of Tannard’s clutches.

  The sound of the front door opening intruded on Issa’s thoughts, and she turned to find the grey-haired Steward standing there.

  “Lady Briana will see you, Honored One.” The respect in the Steward’s voice was tempered by a healthy dose of suspicion. All in Shalandra respected the Keeper’s Blades, but visits of this nature were exceedingly rare—and rarely welcomed.

  “Thank you.” Issa inclined her head. It felt so strange to hear such deference from the Steward. Her Steward’s white silk and peacock feather headband proclaimed her a member of the Zadii intellectual caste, her station well above the Earaqi laborer’s caste to which Issa belonged. For her entire life, she had been demeaned and scorned by scholars, soldiers, and pompous pricks like Kellas.

  All that had changed when the Long Keeper chose her in the Crucible. She had claimed one of the coveted flame-bladed swords—the same one resting in its sheath on her back—and proven herself worthy of service. After the Anointing of the Blades, the ceremony that formalized her acceptance into the brotherhood of elite warriors, she would become a member of the Dhukari, the highest-ranked caste in Shalandra.

  It will definitely take some getting used to, Issa thought as she strode along in the Steward’s wake. Either way, I’m not going to let it go to my head. I’m not going to turn out like Kellas.

  Her face twisted into a scowl at the thought of the young Dhukari that had been chosen to join the Blades alongside her. Not for the first time, she found herself questioning why she’d saved his life in the palace the previous night. He’d been nothing but belittling and disdainful to her.

  Keeper, grant that this Lady Briana is nothing like him, Issa prayed silently. She didn’t think she could stomach her new duty of serving as Lady Briana’s bodyguard if she had Kellas’ arrogance. Already, the duty felt more like a punishment than an honor. Protecting Lady Briana would take Issa away from her Blades’ training. Yet, the Pharus had made it clear that he had a vested interest in repaying the debt he owed Suroth, who had died protecting him. Earning the Pharus’ favor might be just what she needed to convince him to tell her about her parents.

  The interior of the mansion was as opulent as its exterior. Swirling patterns of silver and platinum adorned the golden sandstone walls, a match for the yellow-and-white marble floor tiles. The exotic rugs, woven carpets, and bright tapestries added splashes of color to the high-vaulted hall and broad staircase.

  Yet blood still stained those stairs, despite the best efforts of three servant women—Earaqi, judging by the strips of red cloth braided into their golden headbands. Death had visited the beautiful mansion and left its mark in more ways than one.

  Nessa led her to the second floor, then turned down a hallway flanked by seven doors. The Steward opened the door at the end of the hall and motioned for Issa to enter. Clearly a study, she determined, judging by the huge desk, book and trinket-laden shelves, and comfortable furniture. The Arch-Guardian’s private offices.

  Five people stood in the room. Issa took them in at a glance; Killian had trained her to evaluate everyone as a potential threat. The tall, light-skinned man beside Briana definitely had a dangerous air about him, enhanced by his confident posture and the easy way he wore his leather armor and the sword on his left hip. The green-and-gold headband around his forehead accented the darkness of his hair and the sharpness of his features. Handsome, Issa had to admit, yet still masculine.

  Issa immediately discarded the other foreigner, barely more than a boy, who stood at Lady Briana’s side wearing the garments of a body servant.

  The third young man intrigued her. Clenched muscles made his broad jaw look even wider, the kohl darkening his almond-colored eyes to a deep brown. He wore servants’ clothing and a red-and-gold headband marking him as an Earaqi, yet there was a confident bravado in his strong-featured face, a tightness in his posture that reminded her of Hykos. He stood protectively over Briana, calm on the outside yet ready to spring into action at a moment’s notice. She had known many such youths, most belonging to Killian’s Mumblers, during her years training with the blacksmith.

  Then there was the young woman.
Her thick nose and tight-curled hair marked her as an outsider, and her skin was a shade too dark be Shalandran, though someone had made an admirable attempt to cover that fact using a thick layer of cosmetics—kohl and crushed malachite for the eyes, something to lighten her cheeks and forehead, even the four black dots to match her white Intaji headband. Yet she wore no sheath dress, but light leather armor a match for the honey-eyed foreigner’s and a short-handled spear on her back. The breadth of her shoulders and the hard sinews of her arms told Issa that this was the most dangerous person in the room.

  Lady Briana sat in her father’s oversized armchair as if it were a throne, her kohl smudged and black streaks running down her cheeks. Issa couldn’t fault the young woman her tears—she had just lost her adoptive father—yet was surprised to find defiance in the girl’s eyes.

  “Lady Briana,” Nessa said, “may I present Issa of the Keeper’s Blades.” With a bow, the Steward retreated and shut the door.

  Issa inclined her head. “My lady, allow me to express my deepest sympathies on your adoptive father’s passing.”

  She winced. The words sounded too stiff, too formal, the sort of trite platitude that Kellas would spout in an attempt to curry favor with a higher-ranked Dhukari.

  “I’m very sorry,” she told Briana in a less formal voice. Her eyes met the young noblewoman’s. “I only met him once, but he was kind to me. He seemed like a good man.”

  “Thank you.” Briana gave her a sad smile, moisture glimmering in her eyes. “I’m certain my father would have been pleased to hear that. There is far too little good in Shalandra these days.” She wiped away an errant tear that slipped down her cheek. “But tell me, what brings a Keeper’s Blade to my home?”

  Issa straightened to the formal military posture, spine rigid, head upright. “I have been sent by Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres to be your personal protector until he is certain there is no threat to your life.”

  “As you can see, I already have protectors of my own.” Briana gestured to the two bodyguards.

  Issa’s eyes darted to the two figures flanking the Dhukari. They seemed competent enough, but she was a Keeper’s Blade, chosen by the god of death himself, clad in the finest armor and wielding a Shalandran steel blade.

  Issa inclined her head. “Of course, my lady. However, I have been given my orders by the Pharus himself. Until I receive word from him or one of my superiors, I must comply.”

  Lady Briana’s expression tightened and she exchanged glances with the male bodyguard. “I see.” She fell silent, her lips twisting into a pensive frown.

  Issa felt the bodyguard’s gaze on her. He studied her, suspicion written in every line on his pale face, and Issa could almost feel him sizing her up. She met his honey eyes without hesitation. She had nothing to hide, nothing to fear from him.

  “Do your orders demand that you remain at my side at all times?” Lady Briana’s voice had gone cool, formal.

  “I am to be your personal protector, my lady,” Issa replied. “I am to go where you go, to wield my sword in your defense as your father defended the Pharus from the assassins that threatened his life.”

  “Thank you, Issa of the Keeper’s Blades.” The Dhukari girl inclined her head, but her expression remained as tight as her voice. “Then you may take up guard in the hallway just outside this door.”

  Issa wanted to protest, but Lady Briana continued before she could.

  “As you can see, there are no windows to gain access to this room, no other way in besides my father’s bedroom. With you in the hall, I have little doubt that I will be as safe as if I stood within the Citadel of Stone.”

  Issa recognized the dismissal, yet also the polite courtesy in the tone. She’s definitely not as bad as Kellas. Her fellow trainee would have sent her away with a sneer and cutting remark. By complimenting the Blades, Lady Briana had avoided offense. A very Dhukari trait, but far better than their usual arrogance.

  “Of course, my lady.” With a bow, Issa turned smartly on her heel and marched from the room. Footfalls echoed behind her and she looked back in time to see the pale-skinned bodyguard striding toward the door. He shot her one last suspicious glance before closing the door. A moment later, the lock clicked.

  Issa drew in a long breath, then let it out slowly. She didn’t begrudge their suspicion of her—she’d be just as mistrustful in Lady Briana’s circumstances. As long as they allowed her to do her job and protect the Dhukari woman as the Pharus had ordered, she didn’t care what they thought.

  I am a Keeper’s Blade, Issa told herself as she drew her two-handed flammard and grounded the tip between her boots. I have a job to do, and I’ll be damned if I let anything stop me from doing it.

  Chapter Four

  “What do you think?” The words, spoken in a low tone, left Kodyn’s mouth the instant after he’d closed the door behind the departing Blade. “Could this be the work of the Keeper’s Council?”

  Aisha’s brow furrowed. “I don’t think so.” She turned to Briana. “From what you’ve told us, the Keeper’s Blades don’t answer to the Necroseti, correct?”

  Briana nodded. “They serve the Lady of Blades, the military counterpart to the Pharus. The Pharus can command them, but the Lady of Blades and her council, the Elders of the Blade, make the final decision.” Her expression grew pensive. “There’s no love lost between the Lady of Blades and the Keeper’s Council. If anything, the Keeper’s Council hates her more than the Pharus does. Lady Callista’s control of the Indomitables gives her more power than they’d like, and she operates independently of their authority.”

  Kodyn jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “So you’re saying there’s no chance that this Issa is a spy for the Keeper’s Council or the Pharus?”

  “I didn’t say that.” Briana shook her head. “I’d be surprised if someone on the Keeper’s Council managed to sway anyone in the Elders of the Blade to their cause. We can rule Issa out as a spy for the Necroseti.” She leaned back in her father’s stuffed armchair and sighed. “As for the Pharus or the Lady of Blades, it’s possible that they have an ulterior motive for sending her. Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres is far cleverer than the Keeper’s Council would like. The Necroseti still wield far more power, but from what my father told me, they’re finding him more and more difficult to control. He could very well have sent Issa here for some reason we don’t yet understand. Or Callista Vinaus might—”

  “Did you ever consider that she might just be exactly who she says she is?” Aisha was surprised to find the servant youth, Evren, speaking. “That she actually was sent to protect you?”

  Aisha studied the young man—the pale-skinned servant boy had called him Evren. He could almost pass for a Shalandran, yet Aisha recognized the subtle differences in the shape of his eyes, the breadth of his jaw, and the slight difference in tones between his and Briana’s skin.

  Kodyn’s jaw clenched. “She wasn’t talking to—”

  “Kodyn!” Briana cut off the Hawk’s insult with an angry glare. No trace of apology shone in Kodyn’s eyes, only his typical obstinacy—after everything that had happened, Aisha understood his fierce protectiveness, especially around the attendant that was clearly anything but a common servant.

  Who is he? Aisha studied the young man through narrowed eyes. Evren didn’t look like any servant she’d ever seen. He certainly wore the simple clothing with the red-and-gold to match. But he moved like an assassin of House Serpent, with the wary-eyed look of a street thief of House Fox. The proud defiance in his eyes and posture mirrored Kodyn’s.

  When Kodyn didn’t finish his retort, Briana turned back to Evren. “Speak, please.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “What makes you think she’s here on Lady Callista’s orders to protect me?”

  Evren shrugged, his expression reluctant, as if he regretted opening his mouth and drawing attention to himself. Yet he didn’t back down. “I’m not naïve enough to ignore the fact that she might have been sent to spy on you. But I’ve known a few soldie
rs in my life, and few tend to be the spying type. Much more the bash you over the head or chop off your hand type.”

  Aisha cocked an eyebrow. Interesting.

  The “chop off your hand” statement told Aisha a great deal about him. Many cities on Einan—Praamis among them—used it as a punishment to deter pickpocketing and theft. Evren reminded her far more of a Night Guild apprentice than any servant she’d met.

  “I don’t know what sort of man the Pharus is,” Evren continued, his eyes fixed on Briana, “but is it possible that he really did send her in good faith?”

  Briana’s forehead furrowed in concentration. “It is possible,” she finally admitted.

  “You really think so?” Kodyn’s tone and the look he shot Evren held a healthy dose of skepticism.

  “You heard the Pharus this morning,” Briana turned up her palms. “His exact words were, ‘I will not forget the debt I now owe him.’”

  Aisha nodded. Despite her skepticism, she found herself agreeing with Evren’s assessment. “And again, at the party in the palace, he actually seemed glad that Briana had come home.” She’d only met the Pharus twice, neither time for long enough to get a real sense of the man, but he’d come off as a decent sort. At least compared to the conniving, scheming Councilor Madani and his rotund Necroseti sycophants and clingers-on.

  “No way we can trust her,” Kodyn snarled.

  “I’m not saying you should trust her,” Evren put in, earning a glare from the Hawk. “Watch her closely, but maybe it might turn out she’s telling the truth. My lady,” he added as an afterthought.

  Briana’s eyes narrowed as she studied the servant, her expression pensive.

  Aisha couldn’t help her own curiosity. Definitely not a servant, she decided. So then what is he?