Ghost in the Hunt (32 page)

“What is the crystal?” said Caina.

“The fountain,” said the Emissary. “In the heart of Iramis of old, there stood a great fountain wrought of crystal. That is the crystal of which the prophecy spoke. The Star of Iramis is the key to that crystal.”

“Ah,” said Nasser.

“But why? What does that mean?” said Caina.

“I am sorry,” said the Emissary, “but I do not know.”

Caina looked at Nasser.

“Neither do I,” said Nasser. “The fountain was enspelled to generate water for the entire city. What use Callatas has for it, I know not.” 

“That crystal,” said Caina. “If it stood in Iramis, it’s in the Desert of Candles now.” She remembered the visions she had seen of the desert, of the thousands of jagged crystalline pillars rising from the lifeless sand, each glowing with its own pale blue light. “Was it destroyed when Callatas burned Iramis? Or did he take it back with him to Istarinmul?” 

“I believe I know the crystal of which the Emissary speaks,” said Nasser. “It still in the Desert of Candles, in the location where the central plaza of Iramis itself once rested.” 

“Then why hasn’t Callatas destroyed it?” said Caina. “Or taken it back to Istarinmul, if he needs it for the Apotheosis?”

“I do not know,” said Nasser.

“Nor do I,” said the Emissary. “That is all I know of the question written upon your heart, Balarigar. The star is the key to the crystal. The star is the Star of Iramis, which Callatas holds. The crystal waits in the heart of the Desert of Candles, where Iramis of old once stood. I can tell you no more.”

“Cannot, or will not?” said Caina, failing to keep the exasperation out of her tone. She was desperately tired of riddles and prophecies and ominous spirits telling her of the future. If these oracles and spirits ever gave her a straightforward answer to a question, perhaps the sun would freeze overhead.

On the other hand, Kalgri had been very straightforward. Maybe directness was overrated.

“Cannot,” said the Emissary with a sad smile. “That is all I know. Even my sight cannot extend into every possible future.” 

“Emissary.” Karzid approached, leaning upon his cane, and three other monks followed him. “The watchmen report. It is time.”

“And so it is,” said the Emissary.

“Time for what?” said Caina.

“The Red Huntress comes,” said the Emissary. “She has followed you here, and will arrive within an hour.”

“We’ve got to go,” said Caina, turning back to the others. “If the Huntress finds us here, she’ll kill the monks. We…”

“It is too late, Balarigar,” said Karzid. “The Huntress and her followers already ascend the great stair. There is no other way in or out of Silent Ash Temple.”

“Do not fear for us,” said the Emissary. “This has been foreseen. The monks and I shall withdraw into the vaults below the temple and await the outcome of your confrontation.” Already more monks crossed the garden, heading with solemn haste to the great fane at the center of the temple. 

“Will you not aid us?” said Claudia. “The Huntress is invading your home.”

“In pursuit of the Balarigar and companions,” said the Emissary. “True, as hosts we have the obligation to defend our guests. But we have no defense against the Huntress. If we close our gates, she will rip them down. If we fight her, she will slaughter us all.”

“Couldn’t you use you power against her?” said Martin. “Tell her the truth? I understand that is often unsettling.”

The Emissary smiled. “Some men already know the truth of themselves, Martin Dorius. As you do. As the Huntress does. To my sight she is a murderous devil, a fiend utterly divorced from any scrap of conscience or mercy, a monster that delights in the torment of the innocent. All this I could tell her…and all this she already knows, and rejoices in it. Spare no pity for her, for I fear she is beyond all redemption”

“And you already have given us,” said Caina, looking at the valikon on Nasser’s belt, “the best weapon we have against the Huntress.” 

“Yes,” said the Emissary, limping to join Karzid. “It is in your hands now, Balarigar. All possible futures hinge upon the next hour. Either you shall defeat the Huntress…or she shall slay you here, and the Apotheosis shall arise unhindered. May the Living Flame go with you.”

She hobbled from the garden, Karzid and the other monks following, and soon Caina, Claudia, Nasser, and Martin stood alone among the flowers and the trees. 

“Well,” said Nasser at last. “That went rather well.”

“Did it?” said Caina. “She did not know what the Apotheosis was. She didn’t know where to find the Staff or the Seal of Iramis.”

“She knows who hid them,” said Nasser.

Caina shook her head. “A woman a century and a half dead.”

“Not necessarily,” said Nasser. “If the Emissary said that she is still alive, then she is still alive. It is only a matter of finding her before Callatas does.”

“He must not know,” said Caina. “If he did, he wouldn’t have armies of slaves digging up the Desert of Candles. He would be looking for Annarah. Though I haven’t the slightest idea of where to start looking for her.”

“Nor do I,” said Nasser. “First, however, we have more immediate problems.” 

“The Huntress,” said Caina.

“Aye,” said Nasser. “Likely the monks saw her starting the ascent. It took us several hours to make the climb, but with her inhuman vigor, I suspect it will take her little more than an hour. Best we proceed to meet her.”

“And do we have a plan for defeating her?” said Claudia.

Caina shrugged. “Simple. We distract her for long enough for Nasser to put the valikon through her heart.”

Claudia snorted. “A very simple plan.”

“The best battle plans are always simple, my love,” said Martin, “for once the chaos of battle begins, no man can see what course events shall take. Not even the Emissary or the Surge or any other oracle. Though it seems the Huntress has brought allies to the fight.” 

“The Emissary mentioned that,” said Caina. “Perhaps some of the Silent Hunters escaped Drynemet.” 

“Or she may have recruited additional allies,” said Martin. 

“Let us go meet them,” said Caina.

“Claudia,” said Martin. “Perhaps you should join the monks in their shelter.”

“Why?” said Claudia. 

“Because I have no wish to see you fall to the Huntress’s blades,” said Martin, “and because…because you are carrying our child.” He put his hands upon her shoulders. “In any other place and in any other time, the news would fill me with joy. Now it fills me with dread, for we have twice as much to lose.”

Claudia’s right hand reached up to take his, but her left strayed towards her belly, where even now the child grew within her. A stab of furious jealousy went through Caina at the sight. That was something she had always wanted but would never have. As a child she had dreamed of children of her own, of how she would be a better mother than Laeria Amalas. Caina had wanted to become a wife and a mother, but instead she was…

Instead she had become the Balarigar. 

Caina forced aside the jealousy. It was not Claudia’s fault. The world was not a just place, and there was no use bemoaning it. The world was unjust…but it would be even more unjust if Kalgri murdered Martin and Claudia’s child. 

Caina vowed to keep that from happening. 

“I dare not,” said Claudia, her voice little more than a whisper. “My banishment spell has been the only weapon that slowed the Huntress. Maybe with that and the valikon we have a chance of victory. I cannot leave you to face this alone. Not when I have a chance of aiding you. And…and our child. Would you have me raise the child without a father?” She took both his hands in hers. “If the Huntress prevails, she shall likely cut her way into the monks’ refuge and kill them all anyway, regardless of what the Emissary thinks. You saw how the Huntress reveled in senseless slaughter. Do you think a nagataaru would leave any victims behind?” 

“Alas,” said Martin. “I wish I were a wiser man, that I might persuade you to remain behind.”

“My lord Martin,” said Nasser, his tone wistful, “you are wiser than you think. A valiant wife is a treasure beyond reckoning, and you must have been wise indeed to win her.”

“Let’s go,” said Caina, “and greet the Huntress.”

Chapter 18 - Promises

In retrospect, taking Aiovost’s warriors to Silent Ash Temple had been a good idea. 

Though not for their value as fighters. Kalgri had fought some of the finest soldiers in the world, Imperial Guards and Immortals and Kyracian stormdancers, and had slain them all. Kalgri could have killed all of Aiovost's warriors without undue trouble.

No, she had another use in mind for Aiovost’s men.

Specifically, food. Though not for her.

They made it a day and a half before Aiovost and the four other possessed men finally snapped. 

It was a little before dusk. The rest of the warriors kept away from their headman and the other possessed men, partly out of religious awe, partly due to prudent fear. The newly possessed men muttered and snarled to each other, sometimes speaking in their own voices, sometimes in the voices of their nagataaru. 

Aiovost stopped, purple flame and shadow swirling around his eyes, his entire body trembling. 

“Headman?” ventured one of the warriors. “Are you all right?”

Kalgri stopped and waited, knowing what was about to happen.

Aiovost screamed and fell to his hands and knees, as did the other possessed men. Shadows and purple flame erupted from their eyes and mouths, wrapping round their bodies in glowing ribbons. Their screams grew louder, more agonized, and they started to shake.

And then, all at once, they changed.

They swelled and grew, their clothes and armor ripping apart. Their skin hardened into the black, glistening armor of their new form, like the chitinous hide of a beetle. Long, serrated claws erupted from their fingers and toes, and pincers rose from their fang-filled mouths. A mane of barbed, spiked tentacles erupted from their heads and shoulders, lashing at the air like hungry serpents. The Kaltari warriors stumbled back in horror as the transformed men turned to face them, purple fire and shadow writhing around their talons. 

The Voice hissed with pleasure.

The killing began soon after that.

The transformed men rampaged through the warriors, killing and rending with every strike. Blows from axes and swords split the chitinous armor covering the creatures, but their nagataaru feasted upon the death around them, closing the wounds and regenerating the armor. Kalgri watched with approval as Aiovost and the others killed and killed, the Voice roiling with glee. After about half of the warriors had been ripped apart, the survivors broke and fled, throwing down their weapons and screaming to the lords of the night for mercy. 

They ought to have listened to their own shamans. The nagataaru did not offer mercy.

Kalgri let them hunt down the survivors for a while, and then reached through the Voice’s power and commanded the creatures to return to her. Aiovost and the other transformed men raced across the ground on all fours, leaping over the piled corpses and pools of blood, and squatted on their haunches before her. 

Bit by bit the horror of what they had done started to spread over what remained of their expressions. 

“What did you make us do?” croaked Aiovost, his voice distorted and slurred behind the pincers. 

“Nothing,” said Kalgri. 

“But these were my men!” roared Aiovost, his talons lashing at the air. “And I slew them! I was so hungry, and killing them…killing them was bliss! But we had gone into battle together. We had shed blood together! And now they are dead at my hand, because of you!” He prowled towards her. “You have made me into a monster!” 

“If you did not want those men dead,” said Kalgri, “then you should not have killed them.”

Aiovost and the other creatures roared and threw themselves at Kalgri, but the Voice’s fury rose within her, and the nagataaru bound within the men overcame the wills of their hosts. The creatures threw themselves to the ground at Kalgri’s feet, groveling and hissing. 

“Be silent,” said Kalgri, filling her words with the authority of the Voice. “Do not speak again unless I give you leave.” 

Aiovost growled, but the nagataaru within him held him fast, and Kalgri felt her lips curl in a contemptuous smile. The fool had likely spent all his life worshipping the nagataaru, his precious “lords of the void”, but he had no idea what he had really been worshipping. There was some part of him that was recoiling in horror, that was trying to battle the nagataaru that had taken possession of his flesh and mind. 

Those who invited spirits into their bodies were often unprepared for the consequences. Of course, it had been different for Kalgri. Given that she agreed with the Voice’s goals of slaughter and murder and feeding, they had been in harmony from the beginning. 

“Come along,” said Kalgri. “We have a Balarigar to kill.”

The Voice snarled with anticipation, and Kalgri set off across the Kaltari Highlands, the Voice’s vassals following.

###

Caina stood atop the colonnade and waited, watching as the sun disappeared behind the shoulder of the mountain to the west. 

The ancient Iramisians had possessed an eye for both aesthetics and utility, and the outer colonnade was stronger than she had expected. It was backed by a sturdy wall of granite blocks, a narrow walkway running along the top for archers and the engineers manning the siege engines. There was only one gate within the outer colonnade, and the monks had closed and barred it before retreating. Caina supposed a skilled climber could scale a pillar, reach the top of the colonnade, and then scramble onto the rampart. The Iramisians had even planned for that possibility, with downward-sloping tiles across the top of the colonnade that would make it impossible for a climber to get a good grip. 

Not that any of it would slow Kalgri in the slightest.

“I think you should keep the valikon concealed,” said Caina to Nasser, watching the stairs. 

Claudia raised her eyebrows. “Why?”

Caina stood with Nasser, Claudia, and Martin over the gate. Nearby Laertes and Strabane worked on one of the ballistae, speaking in low voices. Caina did not know how effective the siege engine would be against the Huntress. If the Emissary was correct, if Kalgri had indeed brought allies with her, then the ballista might be of use against them.