“But his knowledge is!” Briana’s hands flashed in short, sharp gestured. “Everything he learned is written in a cipher that only I understand.” As if to emphasize her point, she reached for the sack in Aisha’s hand.
“Briana—” Hailen began.
“This is the only way,” Briana told the boy. “The only way you and I both get what we need.”
Aisha bit down on a sudden surge of worry as she watched Briana and Hailen staring at each other. It felt like watching a man hearing the sentence of his execution—but Hailen wasn’t a man. He was a boy, barely older than Aisha’s little sister, yet Briana was one sentence away from betraying him.
Hailen’s fingers slowly unclenched, releasing the sack. Briana tore it open and fished out her father’s journal. “Look,” she said aloud as she held out the book. “Read it, if you can.”
Ennolar stepped forward and took it. His scowl deepened as he flipped through a few pages. “A cipher, indeed.” He held it up for Uryan and the others to see, and their faces darkened as well. When he turned back to Briana, his face with tight, anger etched into the lines around his eyes and mouth. “What do you propose?”
Briana gestured to Hailen. “My companion and I will continue my father’s work. All of the information we’ve uncovered will be turned over to you, and anything we find subsequently.” She held up a warning finger. “However, we will be allowed to continue our research free of interference. And the Secret Keepers will provide us with additional resources and information to aid us. After all, we are doing the Mistress’ work.”
Irritation furrowed Ennolar’s brow. “Allow us a moment to confer.” He hesitated, his lips pressed into a line. For a moment, Aisha thought he’d say something else, but he simply turned and strode out of the bare stone chamber, the other Guardians on his heels.
The moment the wall slid shut, Briana seemed to deflate. She let out a shuddering breath and passed a hand over her eyes.
“Now will someone explain what’s happening?” Hailen demanded. “Why did it look like those Secret Keepers were ready to kill us?”
“Because they were.” Briana’s face hardened. “You know how zealously the Mistress’ priests guard the information they gather. They knew that my father had Serenii artifacts, and they would do whatever it took to get them back. The only way I could get them to let us stay here was to give them what they wanted.”
“The artifacts.” Aisha spoke in a flat tone, struggling to mask her anger. “And Hailen with them.”
“What?” Hailen’s eyebrows shot up. He whirled to Briana, hand dropping to his dagger. “You told them about me?”
“Not exactly.” Briana’s face fell. “I told them that you were working with me to unlock the Serenii secrets, but that is all I told them.”
That wasn’t quite a lie. Aisha had followed the silent conversation; Briana had stopped just before revealing the truth about Hailen, but the Secret Keepers weren’t stupid. They’d know something was different about Hailen the moment they looked in his violet eyes.
“Telling them that you could help me unlock the Serenii secrets was the only thing I could think of that would get them to agree to let us stay, and continue to study my father’s journals.” Briana’s tone sounded pleading. “It’s the only way you get to keep learning more about the Serenii,” she told Hailen, then turned to Aisha, “and it’s the only way Kodyn and Evren get into the Vault of Ancients.”
With those words, the true reasoning behind Briana’s actions became clear. The girl had been afraid for her life, but she’d done what she could to help all of them. It hadn’t been purely selfish.
“I’m so sorry, Hailen.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I didn’t want to do it, but I couldn’t think of anything else.” Her shoulders sagged and her legs seemed to wobble. She looked a heartbeat from collapse. “I’m just so tired. So tired of running, of being afraid, of watching for people trying to kill or hurt me. I just…I’m sorry.” She buried her face in her hands.
Aisha placed a soothing hand on Briana’s shoulders and squeezed, lending her support and comfort. She knew exactly how Briana felt—she’d lived in fear for two months, captive to the Bloody Hand.
She was surprised to find Hailen did the same. “I understand.” The boy’s expression was tight, worry sparkling in those exotic violet eyes of his, yet his anger had gone. “I know what it’s like to be afraid all the time. If knowing about me is the way to get the Secret Keepers to help you, I can be okay with it.”
Briana threw her arms around Hailen and hugged him tight. Though Hailen was years her junior, he stood the same height as the petite Shalandran. The young man emanated a quiet maturity that belied his tender years.
The flow of Briana’s tears slowed and stopped. She broke off the embrace and fixed Hailen with a solemn gaze. “I promise I won’t tell them your real secret. They’ll never know.”
“The moment they see me activate one of those relics, they’ll know.” Hailen’s voice sounded resigned—almost world-weary, a strange tone for one so young. “Or, at least they’ll suspect.”
“So we’ll be careful.” Briana spoke in a low voice. “And we’ll only do it when we’re sure no one’s watching.”
Hailen’s answer was cut off by the wall sliding open. The eight Guardians strode into the room and formed a solemn line facing Briana.
“We have considered your request,” Ennolar said in the silent hand language. “To say it is unusual would be an understatement. Never in the history of our temple has an outsider been permitted access to the Mistress’ secrets.”
He hesitated, a quizzical look on his rotund face. “And yet, given who your father was—and your mother—you could be the one person in Shalandra who could be granted entrance.”
Briana’s expression brightened, but before she could speak, Uryan’s fingers began moving.
“However,” the grey-haired woman signed, “let one thing be abundantly clear: you are not a Secret Keeper. You will not have access to anything more than is pertinent for you to continue your father’s research. You and your companions will be quartered in a restricted section of the temple, your comings and goings monitored to ensure that you do not attempt to go where you are not permitted or see what is forbidden to you.”
Another Secret Keeper, the purple-haired woman, signed next. “The day will soon come when we must speak of your future. Either following your parents’ footsteps in the temple or…” She hesitated. “The choice will be yours.”
Briana stiffened, yet she nodded. “I understand and agree.”
“So be it.” Ennolar bowed. “Briana, daughter of Arch-Guardian Suroth, the Temple of Whispers formally extends its sanctuary. For as long as you remain, you are granted the protection of our holy Mistress and are bound to her secrecy. If you break this vow, you will be subjected to the same measures that a consecrated would face. Do you understand?”
“I do,” Briana replied. “And I swear by the Mistress that I will not break the vow of secrecy.”
“Then it is done.” Ennolar’s expression softened. “Come, child. A place has been prepared for you and your companions. A place where you can rest and recover from all that you have endured.”
Again, a strange transformation occurred in front of Aisha. Briana went from the poised, proud Dhukari to the young woman, daughter who had lost her father, a Dhukari that had lost her home.
“Thank you.” She smiled, a tired expression that revealed the depths of her exhaustion, physical and mental.
The stone wall slid open again and Ennolar motioned for them to follow. Hailen cast an apprehensive glance into the featureless stone passage. The strange luminescent gemstones set into the wall filled the tunnel with a gloomy, almost funereal glow. Aisha’s heart panged for the boy. He’d just agreed to allow Briana to offer him up as a sacrificial lamb to buy her safety. A decision few so young would ever make, yet he’d agreed without hesitation.
She understood why Evren called him his brother. Hailen h
ad the same strength of will and nobility of spirit. They had endured much together and come out stronger for it. That made them true warriors in a way that no skill at arms ever would.
Suddenly, the pounding in her head rose to a feverish pitch as Guardian Uryan turned to leave. Aisha nearly cried out with the force of Thimara’s insistence. The spark of life surged so bright and hot Aisha feared she would be burned alive from within. The torrent of emotions once again within her like a stampeding herd of Zabara.
“Guardian Uryan.” The words burst from her lips with a force beyond her control. “A moment.”
Uryan stopped and turned to her with a questioning glance.
Though it nearly killed her, Aisha waited until the rest of the Guardians had filed out of the room. “You knew Thimara, yes?” Her fingers flashed in the silent language, moving almost of their own will as Thimara’s message struggled to burst free of Aisha’s chest.
The woman’s close-set eyes narrowed, making her face appear even sterner. “What of it?”
“She loved you.” Aisha nearly wept from the force of the emotions—the fondness, devotion, the yearning—that flooded every fiber of her being.
Uryan’s eyes narrowed. “Be wary of what you speak, girl.”
“She carved your names into her windowsill,” Aisha said, a lump rising to her throat. For a moment, she could actually see through Thimara’s eyes, watching her hand chisel the names and that heart into the stone. Thimara reached out through her and took Uryan’s hands.
The Secret Keeper was so stunned she couldn’t react, but simply stared as if at a woman possessed. Which, in many ways, Aisha truly was.
“It was done with all the love in her heart.” Now, tears—Thimara’s tears—streamed from her eyes. The dead could not weep, so she would cry for them. “Though she is gone, her spirit still remains. Her memories of you and the way she felt go with her into the Sleepless Lands.”
A strange look flashed across Uryan’s face. Shocked surprise, confusion, yet a hint of something else beneath—sorrow at the loss of a loved one, tinged with happiness as if she recalled a fond memory. Without a word, Uryan pulled her hands free of Aisha’s grip and she slipped down the tunnel, but not before Aisha caught a glimmer of moisture in her eyes.
The moment shattered, and Aisha staggered, reeling from the intensity of Thimara’s emotions. She dragged in a shuddering breath for what seemed the first time in forever. She felt as if a burden had lifted from her chest—the burden that had settled onto her when she absorbed Thimara’s spirit into her body.
Being Umoyahlebe meant so much more than hearing and speaking to the dead, more than simply wielding their power. Every spirit she absorbed into her body gave her its energy, yet it placed upon her the burden of carrying out their wishes. The Kish’aa could only pass into Pharadesi once they had done whatever kept them bound to this world.
For so many, vengeance had been the only thing keeping them from crossing into eternity. The spirits from the Keeper’s Crypts had dissipated after they were avenged on the Gatherers that killed them. Yet some, like Thimara or Radiana, needed more. They needed to make things right, to pass on a message, or to protect their loved ones.
Aisha could feel Eldesse and Osirath burning like twin embers within her. Their desires were clear—they needed Briana to know the truth.
And the only way to help them make the journey into the beyond was through Aisha. She heard the whispers of the dead and spoke for those who had no voice.
Yet something within her…was wrong. She stared down at her hands, at the blue-white energy that crackled between her fingers.
The spark of Thimara’s life. She’d passed on the woman’s message to Uryan. So why hasn’t she journeyed into the beyond?
Chapter Forty-Four
As Evren hurried through the Temple District ahead of Kodyn, Issa, and Etai, he couldn’t help worrying about Hailen. The boy was locked away among the Secret Keepers, who would love to get their hands on everything he knew about the Serenii, Enarium, the Hunter, and everything else. He had to trust Hailen had spent enough time around the Hunter to learn a bit of circumspection and situational awareness.
He pushed the concerns aside. Right now, we’ve got to focus on getting to the palace before noon. To get the shalanite sample and the title to the Ybrazhe hideout, he needed to find Killian. Knowing the blacksmith, that would prove harder than he’d like.
His eyes roamed the streets, trying to pick the Mumblers out of the crowd. They’ll probably be lying low given the threat of the Syndicate, but maybe I can find one and get them to tell me where Killian might be hiding. They’d at least have an idea of where the blacksmith would go to ground to evade the Ybrazhe hunting him. But Killian wouldn’t just be cowering in the shadows—Evren had no doubt the blacksmith was even now planning a way to strike back at the Syndicate.
Let’s just hope he can give me what I need from wherever he’s hiding. And in time. He shot a glance up at the sky; the sun was climbing higher with every passing second, and their time was running out to get to the palace.
“Where are we going, exactly?” Issa demanded.
Evren ignored her, instead focused on scanning the crowd in the hopes of spotting a Mumbler. His eyes narrowed as he caught sight of a young boy pushing through the throng. Though he wore clothing as simple and plain as anyone else on the Artisan’s Tier, there was no mistaking the wary-eyed way he navigated the throng. Yet he seemed almost frantic, on the verge of panic, his eyes never stopping as if he searched for someone.
Evren hurried in the boy’s direction, but before he could call out, the lad’s gaze fell on him. Eyes widened in recognition and the boy sprinted the remaining steps to Evren. “They’ve taken him!”
Icy feet danced down Evren’s spine. There was only one person the Mumbler could be talking about, and Evren had no doubt who “they” were.
“You’re sure?” he demanded.
The boy’s head jerked up and down. “Saw them haul him away with my own eyes but lost them near Industry Square. Challon’s had every Mumbler out on the street looking for them but no sign yet.”
“What’s going on?” Issa’s voice cut into the conversation as the Keeper’s Blade strode up behind Evren.
The boy’s eyes flew wide as he stared up at the towering warrior in her black armor lion-fanged helm. He sucked in a breath at the sight of her huge sword and, with speed born of fear, he turned and sprinted away.
“Wait!” Evren called after the boy, but the noisy bustle of the morning crowd drowned out his words. Within seconds, the Mumbler disappeared into the crowd. “Damn it!”
“What’s the matter?” Kodyn asked.
“The Ybrazhe,” Evren said, fists forming balls, “they’ve taken…” He shot a glance at Issa, hesitating. “…the guy who’s got the information we need.”
“Where are they holding him?” Issa’s expression was strange, tense, almost…worried. Her grip tightened on her sword until her gauntlets creaked.
“I don’t know.” Evren shook his head. He didn’t understand the Blade’s reaction but decided he would go with it. “Last I saw him, he was hiding in near the Smokehouse. But that boy said the Ybrazhe snatched him up near Industry Square…” His voice trailed off, and he sucked in a sharp breath as a thought flashed through his mind. “The mill!”
Confusion twisted the three faces staring at him. Quickly, he recounted the events of the evening, starting with sneaking out after the lurker, tracking him back to the mill, and freeing Serias from Annat’s clutches.
“If the Ybrazhe got him near Industry Square, they probably won’t want to haul him through the city for fear of running into any patrols.” Evren indicated Issa and Etai with a thrust of his chin. “So they’ll stash him someplace close at hand. Someplace where they can torture whatever they want out of him.” The shop on Miller’s Alley would serve their needs to perfection.
“Then let’s go!”
The urgency and insistence in Issa’s vo
ice caught Evren by surprise. He’d expected that he’d have to talk the Blades into helping him—though the promise of the information Lady Callista needed would have tipped the scales in his favor. Yet Issa seemed more eager than even him, even with the looming deadline.
It can’t just be about the information. He studied her face, which revealed genuine worry. It’s personal, somehow.
He tucked that nugget away for later examination. First, he had to get to Killian. They’d never get the information needed to incriminate Angrak if the Ybrazhe broke or killed him. And, strange as it felt, he’d developed a sort of fondness for the blacksmith.
Back in Vothmot, an aged merchant had helped him after his escape from the Master’s Temple. Kaltris had been the single bright spot in a dark time. He’d given Daver, Evren’s fellow runaway, a safe home and a good living. In a way, Killian reminded Evren of Kaltris—a far gruffer, more cunning, devious version. Saving the blacksmith now would be a sort of repayment for a kindness shown to him a lifetime ago.
He turned to Issa and Etai. “If the Ybrazhe have him, there’s no way we can free him, just the four of us.”
Etai and Issa both scowled, and even Kodyn seemed to bristle as if at an insult. Evren, however, had no time for delicate sensitivities or pride at a reputation. His training with the Hunter had emphasized pragmatism above ego.
“They’ve finally got what they wanted, and after the way I broke Serias free, there’s no way they’re going to take chances of anything happening.” Evren met their gazes. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they had at least twenty or thirty thugs nearby.”
Etai and Issa exchanged glances, then inclined their heads. It seemed the Keeper’s Blades taught a similar common sense.
“Even with Aisha’s help, it still won’t be enough.” Kodyn frowned, his expression pensive. “We’re going to need back-up.” He shot a glance at Issa. “No chance your friend Hykos or those Indomitables you brought earlier could be summoned?”
Issa shook her head. “No time.” Her eyes darted heavenward and her jaw clenched. “We’ve got less than three hours to get to the palace. The amount of time it will take me to find them and get them from the Crypts will be—”
Crucible of Fortune: An Epic Fantasy Young Adult Adventure (Heirs of Destiny Book 2) Page 38
