Trial of Stone by Andy Peloquin

Author:Andy Peloquin [Peloquin, Andy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Fantasy Fiends Publishing Inc.
Published: 2019-01-19T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Five

The hours seemed to drag on as they stood guard before the Tomb of Hallar. Hykos remained solemn and silent throughout their watch, and Issa didn’t dare speak for fear of breaking some unspoken rule. Her mind filled with the gravity of Tannard’s words and his warning against her failure. The weight of her armor and the throbbing aches of her body only added to the burden resting on her shoulders.

Finally, the next pair of Keeper’s Blades came to replace them on guard. With a silent salute, Hykos and Issa marched off down the path that descended through the tombs.

Issa’s eyes roamed over each of the tombs she passed. The stone faces of the ancient Pharuses seemed to mock her, and the black sarcophagi of the Keeper’s Blades reminded her that she could never be as strong or unmovable as the mountain. She would always fail. It didn’t matter that the Invictus asked her to do the impossible. Issa had spent the last five years training to be stronger, better, faster, and smarter. Tannard had smacked her over the head with the truth of her own limitations and it rocked her to her core.

Darkness had fully fallen by the time they stepped out of the tunnel and into the Citadel of Stone.

“You okay?” Hykos’ words echoed with concern. “You’ve had a tough day, but—”

“Don’t!” Issa growled at him. “I don’t need your pity.”

“I’ve none to offer.” Hykos held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Just a friendly word of advice from someone who’s been where you are.”

Issa bit back on the retort threatening to burst from her lips. “And what’s that?”

“You only die when you quit fighting.” Hykos shrugged. “Until then, nothing but the Long Keeper himself can stop you.”

Issa had no doubt he meant the words to be a kindness, but right now, they just rubbed her failings in her face.

“Thanks,” she snarled. Whirling, she stalked away down the hall that led toward her room. Emotions roiled within her as she marched through the empty, bare stone corridors and into her chamber. She hurled her sword and scabbard onto her bed and nearly tore off her armor. The weight and closeness suffocated her, squeezed at her lungs with a fist of iron. Finally free of the burden, she collapsed into her bed, exhausted physically and mentally overwhelmed.

It’s too much! The thought echoed over and over. The harsh training, the starvation and sleep loss, the endless demands on her body and mind, Invictus Tannard’s cruelty. All of it was intended to break her, and she had just about reached the point where she felt as if she’d shatter.

She’d felt like this before; Killian had pushed her hard, training her mind and body in anticipation of the hardships inflicted upon her in the Blades. Yet though the blacksmith had been surprisingly kind—when not forcing her to work harder—he wasn’t the one that had gotten her through the ordeal.

Issa was suddenly gripped by an overwhelming desire to see her grandparents, to feel their arms around her, to hear their soothing voices and loving words.

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