A shout burst from Issa’s lips. “For Shalandra!” She threw herself into the mass of Gatherers attacking the right flank. Her blow, backed by the full force of her charge and the weight of her armor, lifted a man from his feet and hurled him into the two cultists behind him. The three fell to the ground in a pile, arms and limbs entangled. She drove her sword into one man’s chest, shoving until it punched out of his back and into the chest of the man beneath him. Ripping her sword free, she finished off the third Gatherer with a vicious thrust that transfixed his neck and severed his spine.
With a roar, she waded into the melee. Her sword cut huge swaths through the ranks of Gatherers, hewing flesh and shattering bone with every blow. The cultists that tried to charge her, overwhelm her through sheer numbers, died beneath the keen edge of her black steel blade. Those that tried to flee were cut down from behind without mercy.
The sounds of combat echoed all around her: men screaming, grunting, groaning, crying, shouting; blades clashing on blades, sparking off black armor, or thunking into flesh. Blood ran thick on the golden sandstone streets as the Gatherers fell. But not alone. More than a few black-armored corpses joined the ranks of the fallen.
Issa pressed deeper into the ranks of enemies, striking in all directions with her flammard. The blade laid open throats, severed limbs, hacked off heads, or punched through leather armor and the flesh beneath. The short swords of her enemies bounced off her Shalandran steel armor, ineffective as a summer breeze beating against Alshuruq’s mighty slopes.
Then Issa saw it, the moment that her enemy’s will shattered. Fear shone in the eyes of the Gatherer in front of her, piercing the wild zeal twisting his face into a snarl. He hesitated, stopped in his tracks, and turned to flee.
One by one, the dark-robed men and women broke off the battle. Like the retreating tide, the Gatherers gave ground and turned to flee. They scrambled over the corpses of friend and foe in their haste to escape certain death.
“After them!” came the shout from behind Issa. She turned to find the Dictator leading his patrol at a double-time march toward the line. “Don’t let the bastards escape!”
He and his Indomitables gave chase, joined by a few of the unwounded soldiers from their line. But Issa knew it would be fruitless. The Gatherers still outnumbered them, and even with this fresh infusion of troops, the Dictator didn’t have anywhere near enough men to round up the fleeing cultists.
Issa suddenly staggered, her vision swimming, arms and legs on fire with exertion. She drew in a shuddering breath and leaned on her sword until the fatigue passed and the world stilled.
“What happened here?” she demanded of the highest-ranked officer around, a sturdy-looking Protector. “Why did the Gatherers attack the temple?” Her eyes slid east, toward the street where she knew Briana’s house stood. Was it some kind of diversion to keep us away while they went after Briana?
“Ask Otanis here,” the Protector said. He snapped his fingers and a man with the twin vertical stripes of a Dictator stepped forward. “Tell her, Otanis.”
“Don’t know rightly,” Otanis said, confusion twisting his bloodstained face. “We were going about our patrol as normal, when suddenly we come upon a group of these bastards flooding the Temple District. Looked like they were chasing a few youngsters.”
“Chasing?” Issa’s heart leapt, hope surging. “What happened to them? The youngsters? Did they get away? Where did they go?” The questions surged from within her. She had to get to Briana and the others, make sure they were safe.
“In there.” Otanis thrust a finger at the squat building that housed the priests of the Mistress. “Saw them run in the Temple of Whispers.”
Issa nearly wept in relief. She hadn’t failed in her duty. She’d reached the others in time—not only to help fight off the enemy, but to get their information to Lady Callista in time.
She saluted Otanis. “Thank you, Protector!”
Otanis returned the salute. “No, thank you, sir. You couldn’t have come at a better time.”
“You and yours seemed to have it under control. Just thought I’d pitch in and have a bit of fun.” With a salute to the Indomitables, Issa turned and strode toward the Temple of Whispers. It took all of her self-control not to break into a run—she needed to see the others, be certain they were unharmed.
Suddenly, it struck her why it mattered. It wasn’t just duty—she felt drawn to them in the same way that Hykos, Etai, and Lady Callista drew her. They had been kind to her, just as Hykos had been on her first day in the Keeper’s Blades. They’d drawn her, a total stranger, into their circle of trust, just as the Pharus and Callista Vinaus trusted her. And, like Etai, she sensed that strength of spirit in all of them—even Briana, who she’d once feared would be nothing more than a pampered Dhukari. In a strange way, she had started to think of them as her friends.
She strode up to the huge steel door of the Temple of Whispers and pounded on it with a mailed fist. When no one responded, she continued hammering. Finally, a slot opened in the center of the door and two dark eyes peered out at her.
“I’m here to protect the Arch-Guardian’s daughter.” Issa spoke in a confident voice. “Tell Briana that Issa has returned.”
The aperture snapped shut. Issa ground her teeth, heart hammering, worry roiling within her stomach as long minutes passed in silence. On the street behind her, Ministrants from the Sanctuary hurried to help the wounded and dying—Indomitable and Gatherer alike. Traffic had already begun to flow, though the passersby gave the battleground a wide berth.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the door swung open on silent hinges and a Secret Keeper in muted brown robes stepped out. Without a word, he beckoned for her to enter.
Issa had never stepped foot within the Temple of Whispers; few did, for the Secret Keepers lived up to their names and protected their knowledge with single-minded dedication. Yet, a part of her felt somewhat disappointed to find herself in a bare stone room without so much as a single bench, chair, or table. She’d been expecting…more.
Those thoughts faded from her mind as her eyes fell on the six figures seated on the ground, slumped against the wall, or, in Etai’s case, standing silent guard.
“Issa!” Briana’s eyes brightened.
Relief washed over her—far more than she’d expected—like a cool bath on a hot summer day. They were unharmed, alive. She hadn’t failed them or Lady Callista.
“The Gatherer attack, I thought…” She trailed off, uncertain how to put into words the emotions roiling within her. Finally, she managed to blurt out. “I’m glad to see you’re safe.” Her eyes went to Aisha, Kodyn, Evren, Hailen, and Etai. “All of you.”
“Almost weren’t.” Tension lined Etai’s face and she held her sword in a white-knuckled grip. “Was a close thing back there.”
“What happened?” Issa demanded. “I thought we beat back the Gatherer attack.”
Kodyn spoke up from his seat at Briana’s side. “We did, but they came back. They’re after this.” He hefted a cloth sack, and Issa heard the clacking of stones from within. “Suroth’s secrets.”
Issa’s eyes narrowed and she turned to Briana. “I thought they wanted to kidnap you to use as leverage against your father.”
“That’s what we thought.” Briana nodded. “And that might have been the plan initially. But we believe that after my father’s death, they wanted to get his journal and…” She shot a wary glance at the plain stone walls around her. “…other things. All so they can access something within the Vault of Ancients that will help them bring on the Final Destruction.”
Issa’s eyes flew wide. She’d heard that term “Final Destruction” mentioned once—in connection to Aterallis, the former Dhukari that had forsaken his wealth and power to preach in the Slave’s Tier. Nysin had said people had begun spreading rumors about the man, saying that he would “bring about Hallar’s Final Destruction”.
Could he be a Gatherer? The thought flashed through her mind,
yet she dismissed it after a moment. From what she’d heard of the man’s preaching, he had nothing in common with the bloodthirsty cultists. And yet, if he is preaching about the Final Destruction, he could be.
If there was any link between the “Child of Gold, Child of Secrets, Child of Spirits”, as the people called him, Lady Callista would find it. The Gatherer Issa had captured near the Crucible of Fortune would break under the Lady of Blades’ questioning.
Thoughts of the Lady of Blades sent a jolt of nervous anxiety tingling through Issa. She whirled on Kodyn. “Did you get it?” she demanded.
Confusion shone in Kodyn’s eyes. “Get what?”
“The proof!” Issa fairly shouted. “The proof we need to deal with…” She shot a glance at Etai. After only a moment of hesitation, she took the gamble. “…to deal with Councilor Angrak and the rest of the Keeper’s Council.” The Mahjuri-born Blade had proven herself trustworthy in every way Issa could think of—short of outright denying she was a Necroseti spy.
Etai sucked in a breath, her face going pale. Issa knew she’d have a lot of explaining to do, but not right now. It was enough for Etai to know the purpose of their mission to realize its importance.
“Oh, that.” A confident grin broadened Kodyn’s face. “I think Lady Callista’s going to be more than pleased with what we’ve found.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Kodyn climbed to his feet and drew out a piece of parchment from an inner pocket. “This,” he said in that teasing, tantalizing tone he adopted when he had a particularly juicy piece of information to share, “is the sworn statement of Reckoner Dyon attesting that he was threatened by parties unknown and coerced into signing his name to this bill of lading.”
He handed the cloth sack to Aisha and drew out a second piece of parchment. “Given his position as Head Auditor of Shalandra’s exports, particularly shalanite, his testimony carries a great deal of weight. Add that to the fact that I…uncovered it in Councilor Angrak’s mansion, I believe we’ve got enough evidence to prove his wrongdoing.”
Issa stifled a snort at his use of the word “uncovered”—a polite way to stay “stole”. Hopefully Councilor Angrak would be too busy trying to evade a very public execution in Murder Square to bother complaining about how they got their hands on it.
“Grand Reckoner Quodaro himself has signed the statement and Reckoner Dyon is willing to present himself before the Pharus if it’s necessary,” Kodyn continued. “With these two documents, we have to have enough to get Lady Callista to at least arrest him, right? On suspicion of treason, if nothing else.”
“Were it anyone else, perhaps.” Briana’s expression grew dour, a shadow flashing in her eyes. “Yet Angrak is now a member of the Council. With the full force of the Necroseti against her—the same Necroseti that are evidently benefitting from his graft—Lady Callista will be in a dicey situation.”
“He’s not a Councilor just yet.” Hope echoed in Issa’s voice. “If we can get all of this to Lady Callista before noon, we will have a chance to arrest him on suspicion of treason. He will certainly crack under the pressure of the questioning.”
Briana shook her head. “I’m not certain it will be enough.”
“It will be once I drive the final nail in his coffin.” To Aisha’s surprise, it was Evren that spoke. “A certain…acquaintance of ours uncovered something that will give Lady Callista everything she needs.”
All eyes turned to Evren.
“This friend,” Evren explained with a sly smile, “found two pieces of useful evidence. First, a sample of shalanite dust scraped from one of his wagons—perhaps even the same wagon that delivered the goods mentioned in that bill.” He thrust a finger at the parchment in Kodyn’s hand.
“And the other?” Briana’s expression had gone from gloomy to pensive, yet a hint of a spark shone in her eyes.
Evren grinned. “Proof that Angrak is working with the Ybrazhe. He owns the house that they used for their hideout on the Cultivator’s Tier.”
Briana’s eyes widened. “Yes!” A smile twisted her lips and she rounded on Kodyn. “Your testimony of seeing the Ybrazhe thug entering his house plus proof of ownership of a building used by the Syndicate gives Lady Callista everything she needs to haul him in for questioning. Once she shows him the bill of lading, the shalanite sample, and the Reckoner’s sworn testimony, he’ll have no choice but to crack or else face charges of treason.”
The six of them exchanged glances, triumph in their eyes.
“Now,” Issa growled, “we just need to get it to her.”
Evren hesitated a moment, then nodded. “I can take you to my friend. He’ll get the shalanite scrapings and the ownership documents.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kodyn put in.
Aisha shot him a questioning glance.
“I’d like to deliver these to Lady Callista in person,” he said aloud, holding up the two documents. The fingers of his left hand, down by his side, flashed in the silent hand language. “I also want to scout the palace, see what I can learn about getting close to the vault.”
Aisha forced her face to calm. “So be it,” she said in a resigned tone. Her fingers replied, Be careful! The last thing we need is to raise suspicion about what we’re really doing here in Shalandra.
Kodyn nodded understanding and turned to Issa. “We’ll go with Evren, then get everything to Lady Callista as quickly as we can. If we hurry, we can make it before the deadline.”
Issa’s brow furrowed. “It’s almost the eighth hour of the morning. That’s barely enough time—”
“Then let’s go!” Kodyn gestured toward the door.
Issa, Evren, and Kodyn hurried out of the temple.
Etai paused a moment and turned to Briana. “My lady.” She gave a little bow then strode out after the others. The two Secret Keepers swung the huge vault door closed behind them.
The moment the door was sealed, the wall to Aisha’s right slid open without a sound. The eight brown-robed Guardians stood framed in the opening, their faces solemn.
Thimara’s spark within Aisha flared to life at Uryan’s proximity. Aisha felt a sudden surge of love within her chest—whoever these two had been to each other, there was no mistaking the way Thimara felt about the stern-faced Secret Keeper. The force of Thimara’s insistence set her head pounding, growing in intensity until Aisha had to grit her teeth to hold back a grunt of pain.
Not now! She tried to push back against the spirit’s wishes, the burning need to speak to Uryan. Thimara was strong, and the Whispering Lily’s effects had begun to wear off. It took all of Aisha’s control to keep her mouth closed against the words that threatened to burst from her lips.
“Briana.” Ennolar’s fingers moved in the silent Secret Keeper hand language, but his face was a stony, expressionless mask. “You have endured much, these last few days. Events in Shalandra seem to swirl around you, placing you in grave danger.”
“Which is why I have come,” Briana replied. She lifted her head, her spine straightening, and her fingers flashed in confident gestures. “As the daughter of Arch-Guardian Suroth, I formally request sanctuary in the Temple of Whispers for myself and my companions.”
“Your father shared a great many of our secrets with you. Some say too much.” He hesitated, a hint of scowl cracking his stony façade. “Yet that does not make you a Secret Keeper. You do not serve our Mistress, nor have you sworn to guard her mysteries with your life. You are an outsider, and as such, we cannot offer you the sanctuary you desire.”
“So you would condemn me to death?” Briana’s eyes flashed and she bared her teeth. “You saw the Gatherers outside! They have come for my father’s work. If you plan to send me back out onto the streets, you may as well drive a dagger into my heart now. The Gatherers will not stop until they have what they desire. My blood will be on your hands!”
Ennolar exchanged a glance with Uryan. Aisha could almost imagine the war of emotions playing through his mind. He’d seemed genuinely so
rrowful at Suroth’s death; perhaps he’d even been friends with the Arch-Guardian. Yet his duty to his goddess trumped even personal desire or earthly friendships. He had sworn his life to serving the Mistress, and everything else—even the daughter of his friend—came second.
“What if I can offer you something found nowhere else on Einan?”
Briana’s words caught Aisha by surprise. She narrowed her eyes, wary. What is she thinking?
Briana strode over to Hailen and placed a hand on his shoulder. “The secrets of the Serenii, through him.”
A guarded expression flashed across Hailen’s face. Aisha felt her gut clench. Briana was desperate, afraid for her life, but could she really betray Hailen’s secret to the Secret Keepers? That didn’t seem like the Briana that Aisha had come to know over the last few weeks. Had the fight for survival driven her to take desperate measures that could very well risk someone else’s life?
“Allow me and my companions sanctuary,” Briana continued, “and I will turn over everything my father uncovered about the Serenii. Plus, everything that he and I have discovered since my father’s death.”
Confusion twisted Hailen’s face. He shot a questioning glance at Aisha. It took all of Aisha’s self-control not to betray the emotions within her.
“Briana,” Aisha said aloud, “perhaps—”
Briana turned to her, her expression beseeching. The look in her eyes pled with Aisha to trust her.
After a moment, Aisha nodded.
When Briana returned her attention to the Secret Keepers, Uryan’s fingers moved. “Your father’s journals and the Serenii artifacts he was studying already belong to the Temple of Whispers. His position as Arch-Guardian and his knowledge of the Serenii are the only things that stayed our hands from punishing him for breaking his oath of secrecy.” She held out a hand. “Those relics are not yours to bargain with.”
Crucible of Fortune: An Epic Fantasy Young Adult Adventure (Heirs of Destiny Book 2) Page 37
