Child of the Ghosts (21 page)

Looking at him made Caina’s skin crawl. She felt the arcane power rolling off him, like waves of heat rising from an inferno. He seemed stronger, so much stronger, than he had seven years ago. Had he always been this powerful, and she had never realized it? Or had he indeed gotten stronger? 

“A poor widow,” said Maglarion, touching her wrist. “It need not be so.”

Julia’s smile thinned. “You are too forward, sir. Too forward by far.”

“Not at all,” said Maglarion. “I propose not a crude liaison, but something better.” His voice dropped. “You can be young again, Lady Julia.”

Julia gave a mocking little laugh. “You can roll back age, then? Time itself?”

“I can,” said Maglarion. “I have mastered the arcane sciences to a degree not seen since the Fourth Empire. The magi of the modern Magisterium are as children next to my power. And I can make you a young woman once again.”

Julia said nothing. 

“You’ve seen what I’ve done for Lord Haeron, Lord Corthios, Lady Aureon, and the others,” said Maglarion. “Do they not look younger, the years wiped from their faces? Join us. I can do the same for you. I will make you young again. You are a widow, you say? You can find a new husband, one worthy of you, can bear sons and daughters again. All this I will give you if you follow me.”

Julia shivered. “I…I…” 

Caina had never seen her so flustered.

“Do your scruples stop you?” said Maglarion. “Cast them aside. They are only chains that hold you back. I can give you immortality. Surely that is worth any price.”

“Immortality?” said Julia. “The nature of man is mortal. His fate is to die. At what price comes your immortality? I have heard that Haeron Icaraeus buys vast quantities of slaves…slaves that always seem to disappear. What use do you find for them, I wonder?”

“It is the natural order of things,” said Maglarion, his smile hardening. “The weak prey upon the strong. And with the aid of arcane science, the strong can use the weak to live forever. So, Lady Julia Morenna? Are you weak or strong?”

“Your definition of strength is flawed,” said Julia, lifting her chin. “To accept one’s fate with courage…that is strength. Slaughtering innocents to stave off inevitable death, that is weakness. And cowardice.”

“Or blind folly,” said Maglarion. “I have conquered death itself. What matter the price?”

“No,” said Julia, her voice and face cold. “Thank you, sir, for your most generous offer. But I am afraid that I must decline.”

She turned to go.

“I think not,” said Maglarion. 

He gestured, and Caina felt a surge of arcane power.

And Julia froze in place. 

“I’m afraid you know too much now, my lady,” said Maglarion. “More than is…healthy, shall we say? You claim to have no political interests, but I suspect you are friendly with the Loyalists. Which means you’ll run and tell your little tale to the Ghosts. And the Ghosts are an annoyance that I can do without.” 

Caina’s heart pounded with terror. Maglarion was going to kill Julia. 

Or do worse things to her. 

“So I’m going to have to silence you, I’m afraid,” said Maglarion, stroking her cheek. Julia trembled, but did not move, caught in the power of his spell.

Caina had to act. 

She ripped the left sleeve from her gown and wound it around her head, forming a makeshift mask. Then she kicked off her heeled boots, the marble floor cold against her bare feet. 

Then she glided forward without a sound.

She didn’t dare get too close to Maglarion. She suspected his powers would make it difficult, if not impossible, to catch him unawares. And her only chance was to catch him by surprise. Her terror remained, but her mind became cold, focused, clear. Akragas and Sandros and Halfdan and Riogan had trained her well.

The Kindred assassin still walked through the pillars of the gallery, looking left and right. Caina crept behind him, slipping a throwing knife into her hand. Then she leapt, her arm wrapping about his throat, her feet tangling in his ankles.

The assassin was good. He twisted, pushing her away, but Caina hammered the handle of the throwing knife into his skull, behind his ear. He went rigid, and Caina slammed the handle down twice more. The assassin went limp, and she lowered him the floor. 

She yanked his crossbow free from his harness. In his belt she found a small vial of poison, as she expected. She jammed a quarrel into the bow, drawing back the bolt, and poured the poison over the quarrel’s razor-edged head. 

Then she crept across the balcony, the crossbow ready in her hands.

One shot. She had one chance at this. 

Maglarion still stood before a paralyzed Julia, touching her face. He hadn’t killed her yet. He liked to talk, Caina remembered, and enjoyed listening to himself.

“I could just wipe your memory,” said Maglarion. “But you had the temerity to mock me. Not that your opinion matters at all, of course. But it showed that you are weak, unworthy to attain immortality as I have.”

Caina crept closer, raising the crossbow. Sandros had shown her how to use them, but she’d never been very good. Closer. She had to get closer. The heavy quarrel could explode Maglarion’s head like a rotten melon. If she hit him wrong, the quarrel would go right through him and into Julia. 

“So I will kill you,” said Maglarion. “But simply cutting your throat…ah, that would be wasteful, would it not? Especially when I can harvest your death. Death is like…fire, you know. Just as fire produces warmth and heat, so does death produce power. Power that a skilled necromancer can use and store.” His smile widened, and he patted her cheek. “I think I’ll feed your life force to Lord Haeron. A birthday present for him, eh?”

Caina leveled the bow. A little closer, a little closer…

“Come with me,” said Maglarion, and Caina felt another surge of power. Julia took a step forward, face slack, eyes glassy. “Follow me, and you shall see wonders and horrors. Before you die…”

He turned, and his good eye widened as he saw Caina.

She squeezed the trigger. The crossbow heaved, and the heavy quarrel plunged into Maglarion’s chest. Blood splashed across his white shirt, and he staggered back.

She threw aside the bow and ran at him, a throwing knife falling into her hand. She flung the blade, and then another, both knives burying themselves in Maglarion’s mutilated chest, the blows knocking him back against the marble railing. Then she drew her last throwing knife and leapt upon him, burying the blade in his throat. He toppled, and she shoved. 

Maglarion overbalanced and tumbled over the railing. 

She heard his bones shatter as he struck the ballroom’s hard marble floor. 

Julia flinched and shook her head, the glassy look vanishing from her eyes. Shocked screams rose from the ballroom. Caina ducked behind the railing, relieved that she had thought to mask herself, and peered through the ornate balustrade. 

Maglarion lay motionless in a pool of his own blood.

She could not believe it had been that easy. That man had terrorized the innocent for centuries, and she had killed him in the space of a few heartbeats. 

Then Maglarion started to move.

He pushed himself to his feet, and Caina heard the crackling as his broken bones moved back into position.

A horrified silence fell over the ballroom.

Maglarion reached up, ripped the quarrel and the throwing knives from his chest. Blood gushed over his hands, further soaking his shirt, but the wounds closed as Caina watched. He sighed, and massaged his torn throat as the wound closed.

“That,” he announced, his voice rusty, “hurt.”

He looked up, and Caina flinched.

The fall had torn away his eye patch. A green bloodcrystal filled his left eye socket, shining with the emerald fire that Caina associated with necromantic spells. It had been there all along, she realized, enhancing his sorcery, and no doubt giving him other abilities. 

A poisoned bolt, three throwing knives, and a forty-foot fall hadn’t killed him. 

They hadn’t even hurt him very much. 

Maglarion’s good eye narrowed as he stared at her, and she felt the surge of power. 

“Stop him!” Caina screamed. “He’s planning to assassinate the Emperor!”

The Imperial Guards took one look at the bloody man with the growing green eye and rushed him. 

“Run!” Caina yelled, grabbing Julia’s arm.

Maglarion gestured, and the Imperial Guards flew backwards, seized by invisible force. He lifted his hand, pointing at the balcony, and Caina felt the sudden sharp spike of arcane power, like tiny needles digging into her skin.

She ran faster, half-dragging Julia along.

Maglarion thrust out his palm, and the balcony…

…exploded. 

The roar filled Caina’s ears, and the shock knocked her to the ground. Shards of shattered marble rained in all directions. Caina scrambled to her feet, pulling Lady Julia along with her. 

She risked a glance over her shoulder, saw the Imperial Guards running at Maglarion. But Maglarion made a hooking motion, and the falling debris from the shattered balcony changed direction and rained upon the charging Guards in a storm of stone. Chunks of marble smashed black helmets and crushed black cuirasses, and the Guards fell dead to the floor. Caina heard screams as the terrified nobles fled the ballroom. 

She saw Maglarion turn towards the damaged balcony, felt his sorcerous strength gather for another strike. 

“Go!” said Caina, pulling on Julia’s arm. “Run. Run!” 

They sprinted across the damaged gallery, towards the stairs. 

Then the entire mansion shook like a dying animal, and the roar of collapsing masonry filled her ears. Maglarion had simply ripped apart the balconies, she realized, letting them fall in an avalanche to the ballroom floor. Her heart raced with terror, and she half-ran, half-stumbled down the trembling steps, Julia behind her. She had been terrified of Maglarion, and his voice had filled her nightmares for years. 

But she had never dreamed that he possessed that kind of raw power. Little wonder he had lived for centuries.

Little wonder the Ghosts had not been able to kill him. 

Caina led Julia through the mansion’s back corridors, past crowds of terrified servants, and into the gardens. Their coachman had fled in the chaos, so they made their way back to Julia’s townhouse on foot.

Maglarion did not pursue them.

###

The attack threw the Imperial capital into an uproar.

Rumors filled Malarae about the renegade sorcerer who had attacked Lord Haeron’s birthday celebration, a dozen different contradictory accounts repeated in the taverns and inns. Some said that the sorcerer had arrived to kill Lord Haeron, and Lord Haeron’s allies among the Magisterium had fought him off. Others said that Haeron had hired the sorcerer to kill the Emperor, and the Ghosts had ambushed the sorcerer, killing him before the Emperor could arrive. 

In a few days, both Lord Haeron and the Magisterium announced a reward of a hundred thousand denarii for the man’s head.

Caina laughed aloud when she heard that. 

###

Four days after the attack, she went to join Lady Julia for tea.

Halfdan stood next to Julia’s chair, again disguised as the wealthy merchant Basil Callenius. 

“My dear,” he said, putting down his cup of tea, “you really made quite a stir.” 

Caina shrugged. “I didn’t know what else to do. Maglarion would have killed Julia, otherwise.”

“Or worse,” said Julia, taking a sip of tea. “Caina saved my life, and possibly my soul, as well.” 

“I should have done more,” said Caina.

Halfdan snorted. “You put a poisoned crossbow bolt into him, two throwing knives into his chest, cut his throat open, and threw him off a balcony. I fail to see what else you could have done. It’s going to take more than sharp steel and a vial of poison to kill Maglarion.”

“Do you really think Lord Haeron has turned on Maglarion?” said Caina, thinking of the bounty.

“Do you?”

“Of course not,” said Caina. “Lord Haeron looks fifteen years younger. I think he’s been buying slaves and turning them over to Maglarion, who then kills them and feeds their life force into Haeron. I doubt a man like Haeron Icaraeus would give up eternal youth over a shattered ballroom and a few dead Imperial Guards.” 

“That was my thought as well,” said Halfdan. “The bounty is just a bluff to convince the Emperor that Lord Haeron is taking this ‘rogue sorcerer’ seriously. And the Emperor is not convinced. Julia, I’ve just returned from a meeting with the Emperor.”

Julia blinked. “What did His Imperial Majesty say?”

“Emperor Alexius is certain that Haeron Icaraeus and his Restorationist followers have been working with a necromancer, using the lives of slaves to make themselves younger,” said Halfdan. “The Emperor believes that Lord Haeron plans to seize the throne for himself, using Maglarion’s powers for support. And the Emperor doesn’t know what Maglarion wants, but whatever it is, it is not in the best interest of the Empire or its people.”

“His Imperial Majesty has a gift for understatement,” said Caina.

“He does,” said Halfdan, “but he can take drastic action, when he feels it necessary. The Emperor wishes the Ghosts to take direct action against Lord Haeron and Maglarion.”

“Direct action?” said Caina.

“Whatever is necessary to secure their downfall,” said Halfdan.

“I don’t know how much use I will be to you,” said Julia. “Undoubtedly Maglarion will find it most suspicious that a masked Ghost arrived to save me from Maglarion. At the very least, Lord Haeron will suspect that I am…more friendly with the Ghosts then I let on. He may even try to have me killed.” 

“We’ll arrange additional guards for you,” said Halfdan. “And you still have many friends among Malarae’s nobility. See what you can learn from them.”

“Will I assist Julia?” said Caina.

“No,” said Halfdan. “You’ll be coming with me, to the Vineyard.”

“A new teacher?” said Caina, hiding her disappointment. She wanted to stay here, continue the fight against Lord Haeron and Maglarion.

“No,” said Halfdan. “No more teachers. You went up against Maglarion and you survived.”