Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7) (47 page)

“Annarah and Kirzi were a great help, then?” said Caina.

“They were,” said Claudia. “We found Kirzi’s husband, by the way, on our way back to the embassy. I think we will take them into our household as free servants. Their owner might well be dead anyway.”

“Good,” said Caina.

Claudia smiled. “Would you like to hold him?” 

A dozen emotions burned through Caina’s mind all at once. There was jealousy that she would never know what Claudia was experiencing right now. Shame that she was jealous. And mostly just an overwhelming relief that both Claudia and child were safe and well.

“Yes,” said Caina. 

She stooped, and Claudia passed the child to her. Caina cradled the baby, his head resting against her aching left arm. His eyes blinked open, the vivid blue of a newborn, and for a moment she was sure he would start to wail. Instead he regarded her calmly, his expression puzzled. 

“I think he likes you,” said Claudia. 

“My natural charm, no doubt,” said Caina. There was a faint glow around him, similar to one of Annarah’s spells, now that she looked closely. 

“Well, you did save his life even before he was born,” said Claudia. 

“Annarah put a spell on him,” said Caina.

“She did,” said Claudia, a little fear in her voice. “There are so many diseases that can carry off a child before the second year. The Iramisian loremasters have a ward against at least some of them.”

“Good,” said Caina. Damla had told her once how a pox had nearly taken Bayram before his second birthday, and the shadow of the old fear had been visible upon her face. “It is good he will be kept safe.”

“You did it first,” said Claudia. “So we named him after you.” 

Caina’s gaze snapped to Claudia. “What?” 

“I’m joking,” said Claudia. “Caina would be an odd name for a boy, wouldn’t it? No. We named him Corvalis.” 

“Oh,” said Caina. Suddenly her eyes were very hot. “That’s…a good name. A very good name.” She blinked for a few times until her voice was controlled. “I’m surprised Martin approved.”

“Well, it is traditional for a Nighmarian lord to name his firstborn son after his father,” said Claudia. “But Martin and Lord Dorius haven’t been on speaking terms for years. And Martin met Corvalis at Caer Magia and on the day of the golden dead in New Kyre, you remember. He knows my brother helped save the world. What better name for his first son?” 

“What better name, indeed,” said Caina, watching as the infant’s eyes darted back and forth. 

“You should give him to me,” said Claudia. “I want to feed him. Then maybe he’ll fall asleep, and I can get some sleep.”

“Of course,” said Caina, and she handed Corvalis back to Claudia. “I suppose I should get you a gift. I understand that is traditional.”

Claudia took her son and smiled at him. “You did kill the man who tried to kidnap me to use as leverage against my husband. That seems a splendid enough gift. You could bring me his head, though no doubt it burned to ashes with the rest of the dock.”

Caina frowned. “How did you know we burned down the dock?” 

Claudia paused. “You did?” 

“Well, yes.”

Claudia laughed. “That was a joke. I didn’t know! You really burned down the Brotherhood’s dock?” 

“Martin must have told you,” said Caina.

“He didn’t,” said Claudia, grinning. “I just assumed that you burned the building down. It’s what you do.”

“For the gods’ sake,” said Caina, rolling her eyes. “If you keep that up I’m going to have to slap you.”

“A nursing mother?” said Claudia. “So much for the legend of the Balarigar.” 

“And the sooner we are rid of it, the better,” said Caina, turning for the door.

“Caina,” said Claudia.

She stopped, glanced back at Claudia and her son.

“It’s not over, is it,” said Claudia.

“No,” said Caina. “We saved Istarinmul today, Claudia. Hundreds of thousands of people, all of them alive because of what we did. But I think Cassander might have taken Istarinmul with him in death. Or, at least, the old order of things in Istarinmul. Istarinmul’s about to explode, and I don’t know what will happen next.” 

Claudia nodded. “We shall be ready.” 

Caina considered her. In Caina’s time with the Ghosts, she had done some hard things. Yet in that moment, looking at Corvalis cradled in Claudia’s arms, she had no doubt that Claudia could match each and every one of those harsh acts upon anyone who threatened her son. 

“I don’t doubt it,” said Caina, and she stepped into the hall, closing the door behind her. 

She found Lord Martin standing next to Kylon. The Lord Ambassador turned as Caina approached, smiling with relief. 

“Well done,” said Martin, “Well done, indeed.”

“Thank you,” said Caina. “I must offer you twofold congratulations, my lord. First upon the birth of Corvalis Dorius.” 

Kylon lifted his eyebrows, and then smiled. 

“Thank you,” said Martin. “Mistress Annarah assures me the birth went well, though there was a great deal of screaming.”

“Oh, that’s quite normal,” said Annarah, Kirzi nodding her agreement.

“We slew the Adamant Guards left at the Umbarian mansion, but it was deserted, so we set it aflame,” said Martin. “At that point, we knew our fate was in your hands, so I returned to the ruined shop. As we did, we saw the explosion in the Cyrican harbor, and then retreated to our embassy. Lord Cassander is indeed dead?”

“Kylon cut his head off,” said Caina. “Then the Throne blew up next to his corpse. Sicarion couldn’t have recovered from that, and neither would Cassander.”

“Good,” said Martin with some heat. “The orphans and widows he left in his wake throughout the provinces of the eastern Empire will rejoice at the news.” He hesitated. “You said you had more congratulations?”

“On the success of your embassy,” said Caina.

Martin snorted. “How were we possibly successful?”

“Because,” said Caina, “there is absolutely no chance that Istarinmul will ally with the Umbarian Order now.” 

Martin blinked, and then he burst out laughing, along with Nasser and Laertes. Morgant leaned against the wall nearby, scribbling in his notebook. He glanced at them, snorted once, and returned his attention to the notebook. 

“No,” said Martin. “No, I suppose it will not.”

“Cassander might have done us a favor with his spite,” said Caina. “I think he hated Erghulan Amirasku and Callatas so much that he wanted to twist the knife once more. Hence that little speech he made to the city about letting the Grand Wazir and the Grand Master join the Umbarians.”

“Behold, it seems the ancient proverb is correct,” said Nasser. “The scoundrel may do good that he does not plan.” 

“Istarinmul will not ally with the Umbarians,” said Martin in a quiet voice. “But Istarinmul is about to rip itself apart, isn’t it?”

“I fear so,” said Caina. “After last night…Erghulan’s reputation will be destroyed. When Tanzir Shahan arrives, he’ll have thousands of people eager to help him within the walls. Callatas will know that. There’s no telling what he might do.” 

“We will need to be prepared,” said Martin.

“Yes,” said Caina. She looked at Nasser. “I have to leave as soon as possible. You know why.” Martin nodded. “The sooner we can get those objects out of the city and out of the Grand Master’s reach, the better.”

“Unfortunately, every ship in both harbors fled at Lord Cassander’s announcement,” said Nasser. “They will return when word spreads that Cassander failed to destroy the city, but that will take some time. For now, both harbors are empty.”

“Empty?” said Caina, astonished. Both the Cyrican harbor and the Alqaarin harbor handled hundreds of ships a day, sometimes thousands when the harvest came in Akasar or Istarish Cyrica and the farmers sent their crop to market. 

“Let us say that the captains and masters of the vessels displayed excellent prudence,” said Nasser. “Perhaps we ought to follow the Circus to Cyrioch.” 

“Cronmer and the others left?” said Caina.

“I paid them the money you promised,” said Nasser, “and a handsome bonus besides for their excellent performance. Cronmer seemed keen to leave Istarinmul behind as soon as possible, which seemed the path of wisdom. He planned to lead the Circus to Cyrica Urbana, and then to charter a vessel to Malarae.”

“The Empire would be safer for his company,” said Martin. “I shall send letters to the Emperor asking that he be welcomed in Malarae.” He scowled. “When we can find ships to carry the letters, of course.” 

“Perhaps it would be best,” said Nasser, “if we followed his example and hired a ship from Cyrioch.”

“Maybe,” said Caina. “There are smaller ports along the way. We could hire a ship there.” She shook her head. “Kalgri used us to get Cassander out of the way, and now that he’s dead, there’s no reason for her not to tell Callatas what we found.” 

“Let her try,” said Kylon, his voice hard. 

“I’d rather she not get the opportunity,” said Caina. “We…”

She blinked. The room had started to wobble a little around her, and Caina realized that she was exhausted. 

“We should make arrangements to depart as soon as possible,” said Nasser, “but we must rest first.” 

Caina sighed. “You’re right.”

“You are all welcome to stay here,” said Martin. “And if the Grand Wazir wishes to attack…well, I suspect not even Callatas wants to gain the enmity of both the Empire and the Order in a single day.”

###

Caina dreamed as she slept, and in her dream she heard the knocking again.

She turned, the skirt of her black-trimmed green dress swirling around her. She stood again upon the main floor of the House of Kularus, the balcony lined with the shelves of books from her father’s study. As before the coffee house was deserted, but through the windows she saw the bleak, dead plains of the Desert of Candles, the crystalline pillars shining with their eerie azure glow.

The knock came once more.

Caina sighed, crossed the floor, and threw open the double doors. 

Samnirdamnus, the Knight of Wind and Air, stood outside the doors, this time wearing the form of the Emperor Alexius Naerius, the smokeless fire of the djinni glinting in the Emperor’s white beard. 

For a moment they stared at each other, the cold wind of the Desert stirring Caina’s skirts and blowing the dust into the coffee house. 

“My darling demonslayer,” said Samnirdamnus in his sardonic drawl. “I am very pleased to see you alive and unburnt. May I enter? Though I do not require material sustenance, I do enjoy drinking your coffee.”

“Beware the fire?” said Caina. 

“And you did,” said Samnirdamnus. “You did quite excellently. I can tell, on account of how you are still alive.” 

“You could have just warned me,” said Caina. 

“I did, didn’t I?” said Samnirdamnus, putting on an affronted air. “Beware the fire. And you did.”

“A little more detail would have been nice,” said Caina. “A lot of people died.”

“And far more people didn’t,” said Samnirdamnus. “You know the rules, my daring Ghost. I am limited in how I can act…and I have given you quite a lot of aid, haven’t I?” 

Caina sighed. “Fine. Come in.”

Samnirdamnus offered a crooked smile and followed Caina into the House of Kularus. A pair of coffee cups had appeared on one of the tables, and Samnirdamnus drew out a chair for Caina, offering a mocking little bow as he did it. Caina gave him a look, but she sat in the offered chair, and Samnirdamnus seated himself across from her, lifting one of the cups and taking a sip.

“Given that the beverage is not real,” said Samnirdamnus, “it is quite pleasant. I can see why you enjoy it so much.” 

“Apparently I can imagine a good cup of coffee,” said Caina, taking a sip of her own cup. “Damla’s. The best in Istarinmul, if you are curious.” 

“Oh, I am curious about many things,” said Samnirdamnus. “About you, especially.” 

“Because I might be the one you have been looking for?” said Caina.

“I grow more certain of that by the day,” said Samnirdamnus. 

“To do what?” said Caina. “Why have you been looking for me?”

“It is interesting,” said Samnirdamnus. “You recall how the Sifter saw the world?”

“Like a tapestry,” said Caina. “Every mortal wove his own thread into the tapestry of the world. The Sifter called them destiny threads.”

“Sometimes they pull upon each other,” said Samnirdamnus, “and you have pulled many threads around yourself by your choices. The threads of everyone in Istarinmul, for instance, and perhaps the threads of everyone in your world.” He let out a mocking laugh. “It is causing much distress among those with skill in divinatory sorcery.”

“How?” said Caina. 

“Because they cannot see you,” said Samnirdamnus. The eyes of smokeless flame flashed. “You are valikarion, so no divinatory spell can find you. Callatas, for instance, still believes that you are dead, for his divinations cannot discern whether you yet live or you have perished.” 

“Then Kalgri hasn’t told him yet,” said Caina. “She will, though.” 

“You hardly need me to give you warnings,” said Samnirdamnus, “when you can see the truth for yourself. You will likely need to act very quickly.” 

“I know,” said Caina. “You’re a spy, aren’t you? You told me as much during our last meeting. You’re the Azure Sovereign’s…quiet left hand, I suppose. Making things happen that need to happen when the Sovereign cannot act himself.”

“That is a close enough metaphor for our purposes,” said Samnirdamnus. “After all, the Emperor did not command Lord Martin to kill Cassander Nilas. No, he merely commanded Lord Martin to ensure that Istarinmul would not ally with the Order. Yet I suspect your Emperor would not punish you for Cassander’s death.” 

“So,” said Caina. “The Azure Sovereign uses you to do things quietly.” She leaned forward. “Why do you need me for that? You said were looking for someone like me, that I might become the one you had been looking for. Did you arrange all this in order for me to become a valikarion?”

“It is just as well that you became a valikarion, is it not?” said Samnirdamnus.

Caina frowned. “What do you mean?” 

“Of old, the valikarion were guardians,” said Samnirdamnus. “Their task was to guard the loremasters of Iramis from assault, but that was not their sole duty. They were also to serve a shield, to defend from the misuse of sorcery. Sorcery puts great power into the hands of an individual mortal…yet mortals so swiftly abuse their power. You know this well.”