Demon or human, the Iron Warlord will not win.
He clung to those words, tenacious and defiant, resolved to fight to the end. Up the winding staircase he climbed, dozens of steps turning to scores then hundreds. Higher and higher, until it felt he would reach the very peak of the mountain itself.
Finally, the stairs reached their peak, and Kodyn stepped into a world of unparalleled beauty.
Two enormous circular windows occupied the southern wall of the room, paned with a material transparent as glass yet somehow more elegant than even the costliest Voramian crystal. Like the lid of Hallar’s Chamber, they appeared to be carved from a single gemstone.
The view through the windows stole his breath. The entire city spread out below him, from the rooftop of the palace to the hovels and shanties of the Slave’s Tier. The seven spires of the Hall of the Beyond rose from the Keeper’s Tier, their dagger-sharp tips ending just a few dozen paces below the level where he stood. Golden sandstone buildings seemed to gleam in the bright afternoon sun, broken up by towering walls bordering each tier. Beyond the city’s borders stretched massive swaths of verdant grass, bare earth of a dusty red, and yellowed farmlands.
“It’s spectacular,” the Pharus breathed from a few paces to Kodyn’s right. “Shalandra in all its beauty.”
As Kodyn studied the city, he found he could actually see each building, each street, each wall with impossible clarity, as if the crystal magnified the details like a mariner’s looking glass. Yet as he glanced up, he found the glass turned the blue heavens to black. As if it blocked out every hint of color from the late afternoon sun, rendering it dark as night. An eerie combination that sent a chill down Kodyn’s spine.
Suddenly, Kodyn realized where he stood. These weren’t simple windows set into the mountain—they stared through the two midnight black eyes set into the face of Hallar, high on Alshuruq’s peak.
This chamber is Hallar’s secret. He looked around him. Now we have to find out what the hell he hid here.
Save for the opening into the staircase and the enormous glass windows, the room held only one other object: a waist-high table five paces long and two wide, made of that same black-and-crimson-threaded stone, slanted upward to face the window. Hundreds of Serenii glyphs glowed along its length, surrounding a long, broad indentation and gemstones of red, blue, green, and yellow. From the base of the table ran one of those long, flexible tubes he’d seen connected to the Chamber of Sustenance below. Power hummed through the room, setting his hairs on end.
Hailen stood beside the table, his brow furrowed in contemplation, violet eyes fixed on the glowing runes and sparkling gemstones. “This is Serenii-made,” he said. “But what it will do, I don’t know.” He seemed nervous, keeping a wary distance from the table.
“If it’s anything like the mechanism in the Illumina,” Evren said, “it will bring destruction on a massive scale.” His expression had grown grim; his eyes darted from Hailen to the table and back, concern for the boy mingling with his fearful distrust of the Serenii’s power.
“Or maybe not.” Briana spoke in a slow voice, heavy and deliberate. She stood at the opposite end of the long table. “Hailen, come over here and read this.”
Hailen hurried toward her and frowned down at the glowing runes she indicated. “It looks like the Prophecy of the Final Destruction again.”
“It is.” Briana nodded. “But look at this.” She hesitantly tapped one of the glowing glyphs. “I saw the same thing downstairs, but its meaning didn’t really sink in until now. What does that rune mean to you?”
“Su-yotal,” Hailen said.
A sudden rumbling echoed through the chamber, and the glow of the runes set into the table intensified, filling the room with a multi-hued brilliance. The stone beneath Kodyn’s feet trembled and he reached out to steady himself on the table.
“You said Serenii power was activated by sound, right?” he asked.
Briana and Hailen both nodded.
“Then maybe we avoid any kind of sound that could activate it until we know what we’re dealing with.”
“Yeah.” Hailen blushed.
Briana turned back to the rune. “That word you said, its meaning…” She trailed off with a frown. After a long moment, she turned back to them. “This is the Prophecy of Hallar, but it’s different somehow.”
“Different?” Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres tilted his head. “How?”
“Most of it is the same.” Briana traced a finger along the glowing symbols. “But this rune, this one isn’t destruction in the way we originally believed.”
Confusion furrowed the brows of everyone in the room. Even Hailen shot her a questioning glance.
“The rune my father used to write down the prophecy, it’s not the same as the one here.” She plucked out her father’s journal and flipped through the pages until she found what she sought. “This one—” She tapped a finger against a familiar symbol: the inverted horseshoe-shaped symbol the Gatherers and Hallar’s Warriors had tattooed into their flesh. “—denotes destruction, a finality, the death of everything.”
“But this,” she said, pointing to the rune etched into the stone table: three perpendicular curving lines united by a circle in the middle, “this has a different meaning. Destruction, but not obliteration. Instead, destruction that, like the closing of this circle, heralds a new beginning. A rebirth.”
“Like the fire that scours the farmlands?” Issa asked.
All eyes snapped toward her.
“Saba always spoke of the yearly burnings.” Sorrow flashed in her eyes. “Once, when he took me to see them, I asked him why they were destroying their land. He said, ‘Nechda, it is the best way to make the ground fertile so crops will grow again next year.’” Her expression grew sad at the painful memory of her slain grandfather.
“Right!” Briana nodded. “So according to those runes, we’ve understood Hallar’s Prophecy of the Final Destruction all wrong.” Excitement sparkled in her eyes. “I believe it wasn’t a warning that we would destroy Shalandra, but that fulfilling the prophecy would save it!”
Chapter Forty
“Save it?” Confused, Issa frowned at the table with its glowing gemstones and symbols. “How could something like this save our city?”
“In Enarium, I saw what the power of the Serenii was capable of.” Hailen’s quiet words echoed with dread. “Hundreds of thousands of people, turned to ash in the space of seconds.”
“Yes, but the Serenii were said to be able to shape the world as they desired, not only destroy it.” Briana’s voice rose in excitement, an eager gleam in her eyes. She gestured to the table. “What if they left this here as a means of protecting Shalandra from a threat that they foresaw, that they wrote about in their prophecy?”
“Their prophecy?” The Pharus shook his head. “It is called Hallar’s Prophecy, ascribed to Shalandra’s founder, not the Serenii.”
“Maybe,” Hailen said, “but it’s possible that Hallar found it here, written by the Serenii, and as he spread it, people considered it his prophecy.” He cast a meaningful glance to Briana. “It wouldn’t be the first truth to be diluted or changed over the course of time.”
Issa didn’t understand the significance to those words and the look, but his words made sense.
“So you believe Hallar knew about it, but he wanted to keep it a secret until the right time?”
“Yes.” Briana nodded.
“Somehow, now is the right time?” Incredulity echoed in Kodyn’s voice. “When we’re fighting for our lives against monsters and battling a demon?” As the words left his lips, his expression changed to one of acknowledgement. “Yeah, hearing it out loud, that definitely seems like the right time to use Serenii magic to save our city.”
“The question is,” Aisha put in, “how do we turn it on?”
“Hallar’s Prophecy!” Briana’s words came out in a breathless rush, spilling over each other in her excitement. “It’s not a prophecy of warning at all—th
ey’re instructions on how to activate the Serenii power!”
The words struck Issa a physical blow. The others in the room seemed equally stunned, even the Pharus and Lady Callista.
Briana pointed to the Lady of Blades. “Look, the sword and scepter are aligned. Literally!”
Lady Callista looked down at her flammard. She hadn’t yet removed the mace-like scepter from the hilt of the two-handed sword.
Hailen sucked in a breath. “In Enarium, two daggers were used as a key of sorts.” His eyes snapped to Lady Callista. “What if that sword is the same?”
“They could go here!” Evren had come around the table and now stood beside the long broad aperture that ran along its top.
Issa’s eyes widened. There was no mistaking the shape of that slot: it resembled the long, sinewy blade of the flammard, the short parrying hooks above the ricasso, the over-thick hilt, and the round ball at the head of the scepter.
Lady Callista strode around to the front of the table and reverently placed her enormous sword into the opening. The Blade of Hallar fit, its length and width perfect to nestle in the indentation carved into the stone. Yet something about it seemed off. Another opening lay beneath the sword, a circular groove slightly longer than Issa’s open hand.
Kodyn squinted down at the Blade of Hallar. “Look, see those two grooves in the hilt?”
“Damned irritations,” Lady Callista scowled. “I always wondered what purpose they—”
“The crown!” Kodyn whirled to the Pharus. “Bright One, if you will?”
The Pharus removed the silver-and-platinum circlet with reverence and held it out to Kodyn. With a grin, the pale-skinned man snatched the treasured relic and turned back to the Blade of Hallar. He removed it from its stone cradle and slid the Crown of the Pharus over the hilt.
“Yes!” Kodyn crowed in triumph as the metal circlet locked into place in the twin grooves on the Blade of Hallar’s crossguard. When he inserted the united crown, blade, and scepter into the slot, it clicked into place.
All in the room held their breaths in expectation. Disappointment thrummed in Issa’s gut when nothing happened.
Kodyn alone seemed more excited than crestfallen despite the lack of results. He turned to Briana and Hailen. “What’s next in the prophecy?”
“The blood of ancients.” Briana shot a glance at Hailen. “That’s you.”
Hailen winced. “It always comes down to my blood, one way or another.” His expression was grim, a shadow in his eyes as he drew a dagger and pressed the tip to his finger.
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footfalls echoed from the staircase. All in the room spun to face the opening, and every hand dropped to their weapons.
Issa let out a breath as a familiar black-armored figure appeared in the doorway.
“They’re coming!” Etai shouted. “The Stumblers have broken through. They’ll be on us at any second.”
Lady Callista sprang into action. “Briana, Hailen, keep at the mechanism. Aisha, Kodyn, Evren, watch their backs. We’ll buy you all time to do whatever you need to do to get it working, but hurry!”
Issa’s eyes searched the stairs behind Etai. Panic sank sharp claws into her mind. The prototopoi had come alone. No, Hykos! A lump rose to her throat and a fist of iron clutched her heart.
Dread turned to relief a few seconds later as the Archateros emerged into the golden sunlight filling the mountaintop chamber. Issa found she could breathe again. Though pain twisted his face and clenched his jaw, he seemed determined to fight through the pain. Injured knee or no, he was a formidable warrior. Whatever threats came up those stairs, he’d face them with grim determination.
That, in large part, was one of the reasons Issa respected and admired him so much. He’d shown her what it meant to be strong in a way her training with Killian and her Saba’s example never could.
And if he fights, I’ll be by his side.
Unsheathing her flammard, she moved toward the stairwell to join Hykos and Etai.
“No, Issa.” Lady Callista held out an arm to stop her. “Protect the Pharus.”
“But—” Issa began.
“Please!” Lady Callista’s eyes flashed, anger mingled with pleading and stubborn insistence. “I just got you back. I’ll die before I let them hurt you.”
Issa’s reluctance dimmed beneath the intensity in her mother’s eyes. After a moment, she nodded and took up position between the Pharus and the stairs.
Lady Callista moved toward the Pharus as well.
“Callista?” Bewilderment echoed in the Pharus’ voice. “What do you mean—”
“I fight to protect you, one final time, my Pharus.” A smile broadened her strong features. Sorrow flooded Issa at the sight. Her mother, beautiful and determined, even in the face of certain death. “And our daughter,” she said, barely above a whisper.
Pharus Amhoset Nephelcheres’ eyes flew wide, and shocked surprise drove all words from his lips. Without a word, Lady Callista drew the sword that hung at the Pharus’ side. Not a Shalandran steel flammard of the Keeper’s Blades, but a khopesh, its hilt ornately decorated yet its hooked sickle-shaped blade razor sharp. The weapon of an Indomitable built for the Pharus. In the hands of the Lady of Blades, it was no less deadly than the Blade of Hallar.
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Issa turned to face the Pharus. “I took an oath to protect you with my life, and, if so needed, my death.” She gripped her sword tighter. “I will fight to my last breath, Father.”
She’d just learned the truth of her parents, had just spoken with her mother and seen the look in her father’s eyes for the first time. And she’d battle the Long Keeper himself to ensure it wouldn’t be the last.
Chapter Forty-One
Damn! Evren tightened his grip on his jambiyas. Facing a demon made him nervous, even with two Im’tasi blades on their side. Yet he didn’t dare risk either—if Tethum got his hands on one of those weapons, he would be truly unstoppable. And the Blade of Hallar needed to remain in its cradle on the Serenii machine in order for Briana and Hailen to activate it. Their only hope lay in Hykos, Etai, and Lady Callista putting the Iron Warlord down hard and fast.
Evren’s eyes widened as Lady Callista and Hykos drew iron daggers and tucked the blades into their belts, within easy reach yet not interfering with a solid grip on their two-handed flammards. Where the hell did they get those? His mind flashed back to the servant that had hurried past as he spoke with Killian. And how in the fiery hell did they know they’d need them?
At that moment, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered beyond stopping the Iron Warlord.
“Tethum is coming,” Evren said, “make no mistake of that. He’s a demon, but demons still bleed.”
“Good to know,” Lady Callista growled.
“Hit him hard, cut him to pieces, and put those iron daggers in him before he gets back up.” Evren nodded to the blades in their belts. “It’s our only hope of putting an end to him.”
A thought flashed through his mind: if the Hunter were here, he’d find a way to bring down Tethum without killing him. The Hunter had vowed to hunt demons, not to eradicate them from Einan, but to bind them in the Chambers of Sustenance. Their life forces would sustain Kharna in the battle against the Great Devourer. Locking a demon into the chamber would go a long way toward fulfilling the Hunter’s quest—a quest Evren and Hailen had both joined. But none of them were immortal Bucelarii. It would take all of them to bring down the demon.
Nervous tension hung thick in the room, the silence a stifling blanket that threatened to smother Evren. His gut writhed, acid churning, his shoulder muscles tied in knots. Sweat trickled down his palms and soaked into the leather grips of his jambiyas. He, like all in the room not worrying about activating the Serenii mechanism, faced the dimly-lit stairway. They would face their enemies head-on.
Click, click, click.
The sound of metal-shod shoes echoed in the stairway.
Click, click, click.
No
rasping, gurgling, or feet scuffing on stone. Just a single pair of boots climbing in a slow, unhurried rhythm.
Click, click, click.
A harsh voice drifted up to them. “Beneath the black sky, the Final Destruction will be witnessed by the foretold, the catalysts to the end.” Mocking, bestial laughter reverberated off the sandstone walls. “So it was foretold by the Serenii in a vision to my son five thousand years ago.” More laughter, cold and cruel. “Yet he never suspected that I would be the one to visit it on his city.”
The Iron Warlord appeared at the top of the stairs. A shudder ran down Evren’s spine—eyes the color of midnight glittered behind the mask of cold metal. Not iron, for that would prove torment to a demon. Steel, hard and severe, sharp features etched into its smooth, polished surface.
Hykos attacked the moment the demon appeared. The Archateros moved fast, faster than Evren believed possible for a human, his Shalandran steel flammard parting their air in a blur that flew toward the Iron Warlord’s face. Etai was a step behind, the flame-shaped blade of her two-handed sword driving toward the demon’s unarmored chest.
The demon was faster.
Tethum slid aside, slipping the path of Hykos’ horizontal chop and stepping into the Archateros’ guard. He struck out with an open palm that crashed into Hykos’ chest. The Blade was hurled backward, feet leaving the air, and he crashed into the wall with a deafening clash of metal on rock. His skull struck stone with an audible crunch. He collapsed to the floor and lay still, a fist-sized dent in his Shalandran steel breastplate.
“Hykos!” Issa cried.
Etai’s thrust proved equally useless. Tethum slapped it aside almost contemptuously, seized her arm in a fierce grip, and yanked hard. Her shoulder gave a loud pop, but her cry of pain was cut short as the Iron Warlord slammed his masked face into hers. Cartilage crunched beneath the impact and blood sprayed from her lips and nose. Almost casually, Tethum kicked out her legs and twisted her arm and body in the air. She landed hard, and the snap of bone echoed in the chamber. Issa’s gut clenched as another agonized scream burst from Etai’s lips.
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