Page 26

“There’s no time,” Raithe said grimly. “The ritual is happening.” He brandished his sword. “I’ll deal with these,” he said.

“You get to the ritual site. Do whatever you can to stop the summoning, or at least stall it. Remember, if the Deathless King

is resurrected, everything you’ve ever known will end. We cannot allow the Circle to summon him back into the world.”

The closest skeletons were almost upon us; I could hear the scraping of bones as they raised their shields before them. The

stink of death was overpowering; I stifled the urge to gag and tried to focus on what the assassin was telling me.

“Sparrow.” Raithe spared me a split-second glance. “Do you understand? You have to stop the Circle. Everything will fall if

the Deathless King rises again.”

“Yeah.” My mouth was dry with terror, but I forced the words out. “I get it. Stop the Circle. I’ll try.”

And the monsters lunged.

They came in silent and fast, with none of the clattering of the skeletons in the ancient city.

I barely had time to blink before one was upon me, sweeping its sword down in a lethal arc.

Instinctively, I ducked, and felt the blade catch the very top of my hood and knock it back.

Staggering away, I saw the monster step forward, raising its sword again, but Raithe whirled, sweeping his own blade at its neck.

The skeleton quickly raised its shield. The iylvahn’s sword hit the shield with a ringing clang that echoed through the chamber, and his pale eyes flashed to me.

“Sparrow, go!”

I went, darting around the monster as it turned toward Raithe, and splashed my way to the other side of the room. In the doorway,

I looked back and saw that five of the creatures had surrounded the assassin, eyes blazing as their swords rose and fell,

but so far, the kahjai was holding them off.

Wondering if this would be the last time I saw the iylvahn alive, I turned and fled into the tunnel.

Fear clawed at me as I crept down the passageway, trying to breathe normally and not in short, panicked gasps. My heart was

pounding, and my palms were clammy with sweat. How was it that just yesterday I was sitting on a rooftop, watching the circus

with Jeran and not thinking of anything that had to do with soulstones and forbidden cities and Deathless Kings? Now an iylvahn

assassin expected me to stop the rising of an ancient godlike being by... doing what? I was just a thief. This was way

out of my league.

I came to the end of the tunnel, and the circular chamber surrounded by pillars came into view. I ducked behind one of the

columns, and when I peeked out into the chamber beyond, a chill like nothing I’d ever felt before infused my whole body.

Six Circle members in robes and skull masks stood around the stone altar, arms raised, chanting in unison.

One tall, robed figure stood at the head of the altar, and his skull mask was the terrible visage of a demonic-looking horned creature.

The other Circle members had their heads raised, but the horned skull stared down at what was before him on the altar.

Jeran lay shackled to the stone surface, eyes wide and terrified as he struggled against the chains. I bit down a gasp, my

hands flying up to cover my mouth. He had been gagged, and his muffled cries were drowned out by the chanting of the robed

figures around him. The black soulstone hovered a few feet above his chest, seeming to suck in the torchlight as it floated

there. My insides twisted, horror flooding through me like a wave, and my legs nearly gave out beneath me.

The horned skull figure paused, observing the prisoner before him. Slowly, as the droning chants seemed to reach a crescendo,

the figure raised its arm, a curved dagger with a serpentine blade as black as night glittering in its hand. My heart clenched,

and I lunged from behind the pillar.

“Wait!”

I staggered into the torchlight. The droning voices abruptly stopped, and six pairs of hollow eyes turned on me. On the altar,

Jeran looked up, his own eyes flaring with hope. He tried calling out, but his voice was muffled by the cloth.

In the silence, I seemed to stand in a spotlight, all eyes focused in my direction. What was I supposed to do? Stop the summoning, the iylvahn had said. Or at least stall it.

“What’s going on here?” I asked, grateful that my voice didn’t tremble as I spoke. “What are you doing to Jeran? Where’s Vahn?”

“She’s here.”

It wasn’t the horned leader who spoke, but one of the other robed figures, its cowled head turned to stare at the skull at the head of the altar.

“The Fateless has come,” it said, nearly hissing the words.

“Now we can finish what we were supposed to finish tonight. The sacrifice does not matter, any life can be traded, but before the king returns, the Fateless must die.”

Fateless ? I didn’t have time to puzzle out what that meant, and fear was suffocating my mind. “Where’s Vahn?” I asked again, trying

to speak clearly. “Does he know what you’re doing? Jeran is part of our guild—the Guildmaster is not going to be happy if

one of his members is hurt or killed.”

“Sparrow.”

At the head of the table, the horned figure raised his arm, took hold of the skull mask, and pulled it away. A familiar face

stared out from beneath the hood, eyes dark and solemn, and my heart froze.

“I’m sorry, Sparrow,” Vahn said as I stared at him in disbelief, not wanting to accept what was in front of me. “I hoped it

wouldn’t come to this. I didn’t think, when I brought you to the guild all those years ago, that you would be the one to usher in the new age.”

“Vahn?” I shook my head, my mind reeling. “No. You’re part of the Circle?”

He smiled without humor. “A good ruse, was it not? No one suspected a thing. But it was necessary. The Guildmaster can see everything that happens in Kovass. I needed to be Vahn the Guildmaster so I could watch for the arrival of the Fateless.” He sighed then, a furrow creasing his brow for just a moment.

“I had begun to suspect it might be you, Sparrow. I hoped it was not. I hoped that you were just a talented thief whose luck defied all odds. But when you returned with the Tapestry of the World, I could no longer deny it. You were the one who could breach the ancient city, defy the curses and guardians who protected it, and retrieve the soulstone of our king.”

He gazed at the body on the altar, and the coldness in his eyes filled me with dread. “Jeran said that you gave the soulstone

to him,” Vahn went on, as Jeran shook his head violently, his gaze pleading. “And that you told him to deliver it for you.

It was obvious that he was lying. Still, in a way, I am glad. I would rather he be lying here, that the life I end to bring

back the true ruler of the empire is not yours.”

Horror flooded me as I realized what he was saying. That would have been me on the altar. If Jeran hadn’t ambushed me and

Raithe hadn’t found me tonight, I would be the one chained to that table. My reward for bringing back the soulstone.

I felt sick. Everything I knew had been turned upside down. Jeran had betrayed me. Vahn had been lying to me my whole life.

He was not only a member of the Circle, he was its leader.

“We waste time, Vahn,” one of the Circle members hissed. “We are so close. We have the soulstone. We have the life that must

be traded. The king will rise tonight—we have waited too long to fail now. Now there is only one last thread that must be cut.” He pointed a withered

finger at me. “The Fateless must die. She is a threat to our king’s new empire. Kill her. You know it must be done.”

“The last time I checked,” Vahn said, his voice colder than ice, “ I led the ma’jhet, not you. We have a sacrifice. We have the soulstone. The Fateless is a fly, a thorn, a speck of dust in the

glory of the Deathless King. The instability she could bring to the empire might never come to pass.”

My heart pounded. It sounded like Vahn was trying to convince himself. Hope fluttered within me. I had to believe that even

in this horrible situation, he wouldn’t go through with whatever the Circle was planning.

“She is Fateless,” a woman’s voice droned, hard and unyielding. “You know what that means. You know we cannot risk it, Vahn.

We are the last of the ma’jhet. Family, children, partners, everything we love must be sacrificed to the king if he calls

for it.” Her skull mask turned toward me, hatred shining through the hollow eye sockets. “You know what must be done.”

“Vahn.” I met his gaze, saw the conflict within. “Don’t,” I whispered. “Please. You’re the only family I have.”

He hesitated, a muscle working in his jaw. For just a moment, a ripple of emotions crossed his face: sorrow, anger, regret.

I remembered all the moments I’d had with him; the times he had looked at me with pride, the small gestures of affection and

love.

Vahn closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, a stranger stared back at me, cold and resolved. “I am sorry, Sparrow,”

he said again, and raised his arm. I caught the glint of metal and wood in his hand, a crossbow, pointed at me, and went numb

with disbelief. “I truly wish that you had not been the Fateless.”

Suddenly, something lunged in front of me, filling my vision. I heard a metallic clang as the crossbow bolt struck the copper shield of an elite guardian. Held by the iylvahn. Raithe straightened, and though I couldn’t see his face, I could picture his searing, icy gaze on the Circle members below.

“ Kahjai !” one of the robed figures screeched, sounding almost panicked. “The Fateless led it here! Traitor!”

Raithe darted forward in a blur, leaping onto the altar. His sword flashed, and the Circle member who had spoken toppled backward,

his head leaving his shoulders halfway down. The skull mask hit the ground, shattering against the stones, and pandemonium

erupted.

My heart lodged in my throat. I needed to run, but my legs were frozen, my body numb from what I’d just seen and heard. As

Raithe stepped forward, plunging his sword into the back of another robed figure who had turned to flee, Vahn raised his head,

his dark eyes shining with terrible determination. Raithe spun on him, raising his bloody sword, as Vahn calmly drew the knife

across Jeran’s throat.

No! My stomach heaved, and everything around me seemed to slow. On the altar, Jeran’s body spasmed. He made a few strangled choking

sounds, red liquid bubbling from his lips and running down his neck, before his eyes glazed over, staring up at nothing.

The black soulstone pulsed once, and for a split second, everything—light, heat, emotion—seemed to be sucked into it.

I felt cold, as if all the warmth had been drawn out of me.

The torches guttered, casting flickering shadows over the room, and in the eerie light, I saw Raithe spring across the altar over Jeran’s motionless corpse and aim his sword at Vahn’s neck.

I cried out just as the torches flickered and died, plunging the chamber into complete darkness.

The black soulstone flared, casting everything in an eerie red light. Vahn stood in the same spot, his own sword now raised

to meet the iylvahn’s, their blades pressed together.

“You’re too late.” Vahn’s tone was soft, triumphant; he stepped back, smiling, and the red light turned his face into a terrifying

mask. “The king has come.”

On the altar behind Raithe, Jeran’s body dissolved, his flesh turning to dust and leaving behind only a skeleton. The particles

rose in a glittering cloud and swirled around the soulstone, which was pulsing like a frantic heartbeat. Raithe spun, his

blade flashing, and struck the glowing stone from the air. Instead of shattering, it flew to the edge of the altar and stopped

as if it had hit a wall. The cloud of dust followed, swirling into the shape of a man, tall and broad shouldered, his features

were blurred. Within the swirling cloud, the soulstone pulsed one final time and then shattered, sending shards of black rock

flying in every direction.

A ripple of power went through the room, causing the floor to shake and the walls to tremble. I felt the vibrations through

my boots, felt the ground heave under me, and staggered back. Cracks slithered across the floor and snaked up the walls, sand

rained from the ceiling, and chunks of rock began smashing into the altar from above. The three remaining Circle members,

who had scattered to the edges of the chamber when Raithe attacked, fell to their knees.

“He comes.” Vahn’s calm, triumphant voice reached me through the chaos.

He wasn’t talking to me, but to the iylvahn, who stood at the edge of the altar, gazing up at the swirling cloud.

The look on Raithe’s face chilled me; one of dismay and weary resignation.

“You’ve failed, kahjai. The king rises, and he will destroy this world and remake it in his own image.

Run now, iylvahn. Run while you can. Soon, it won’t matter where you go. ”

Raithe’s eyes hardened. He glanced back at Vahn, as if contemplating whether to attack him, and my stomach twisted. Vahn simply

smiled, half raising his arms, as if inviting him to try.

At the edge of the chamber, one of the Circle members screamed. His hood fell off as he arched back, mouth open in a tortured

wail. Abruptly, the skin of his face dissolved into dust, which was immediately sucked into the swirling cloud over the altar.

The skeleton beneath the robes collapsed to the floor. I dug my shaking fingers into the pillar to keep myself from bolting

from the room.

Raithe made his decision. Spinning from Vahn, he leaped from the altar and ran for the door at my back. As he passed the dust

storm, I saw a grimace cross his face, as if he expected to be struck down, turned to dust and bones himself in the blink

of an eye. But he passed the swirling cloud without incident and continued across the room.

The dust solidified, and a man stepped down onto the altar, naked except for a gold loincloth belted around his waist. He

was very tall, standing virtually head and shoulders over everyone else. Jet-black hair fell to his shoulders; his skin was

a darkened bronze, and his physique was powerful. He turned his head, observing the scene around him, and his eyes were two

fathomless black pits, empty of pity or understanding.

As I backed away, Vahn’s gaze met mine across the chamber.

Regret glimmered there, but only for a heartbeat before it vanished and cold determination took its place.

In that moment, the Guildmaster of Kovass, the man who had raised me and taught me everything I knew about being a thief, vanished—only the leader of the ma’jhet, the elite advisors to the Deathless King, remained.

Then Raithe was leaping up the stairs, his eyes telling me to run, and I did. We fled the chamber of the Circle and the Deathless

King, the images of Vahn’s cold eyes and Jeran’s corpse seared into my mind forever.