Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 06 - Ghost in the Forge (25 page)

Chapter 25 - Slaves and Chains

Caina drifted through an endless field of gray mist. 

She could not remember how she had come here.

From time to time memories flitted across her mind, the mist congealing into scenes.

Her father, sitting broken at his desk.

Maglarion’s black lair beneath the hills.

Kalastus laughing as sorcerous fire blazed around him.

Nicolai shrieking for his mother as the Istarish soldiers stormed through Marsis. 

Caina herself, lying upon the floor of the Tower of Study.

Dead.

In some ways it was a relief. No more pain, no more fear, no more sorrow. 

Perhaps she would see her father again. 

But how she wished she could have said farewell to Corvalis. 

As the thought crossed her mind, she saw Corvalis kneeling over her, her ghostsilver dagger in his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice full of pain. “I should have listened to you. Gods damn it all, I should have listened to you. I’m so sorry.”

A spasm went through Corvalis, and she saw sorrow on his hard face. She reached for him, but her fingers passed through him as if he were not there. 

Then the images dissolved into mist, and the numbness sank deeper into Caina. She felt the mist wrapping her like a blanket as everything faded away…

“This would have been simpler,” said a woman’s voice, “had Torius just cut off your head.”

A woman stood in the swirling gray mist. She wore a gown the color of blood, her dark hair hanging wet and loose around her shoulders, her eyes like black pits into nothingness.

The Moroaica. 

Alarm brought some lucidity back to Caina’s mind.

“If I’m dead,” said Caina, “why are you still here?”

“Because,” said Jadriga, “Mihaela is not nearly as clever as she thinks she is. Her Forge is effective, but she has mentally linked herself to it in order to control the glypharmor. Effective, but if the Forge is ever destroyed, she will regret it.”

“What does that have to do with me?” said Caina.

“Because Mihaela used a Sage’s rod to kill you,” said the Moroaica. “And the Sage’s rod deals death by severing the victim’s soul from the flesh.”

“And my flesh,” said Caina, “has two souls in it. Yours and mine.” 

“Correct,” said Jadriga. “And Mihaela has just killed me inside of your body. An amusing little coincidence, is it not?”

“Then you’re free,” said Caina. “Free to claim another body and to start killing people once more.”

“I can,” said Jadriga, “resume the great work. I would have preferred that you join me. No matter. You cannot stop me.”

“I can if I hold you here,” said Caina.

“Child of the Ghosts,” said the Moroaica, “I have died in your body. You cannot stop me from doing anything.”

She flung out her hands, and the gray mist swallowed Caina. 

###

Pain erupted through Caina.

She shrieked, her heels trembling against the hard stone floor. Her heart burned within her chest, thumping against her ribs like the drumbeat of a marching Legion. Caina sucked in a long breath, her eyes swimming into focus. A stone ceiling rose overhead, painted with the sullen red glow of molten metal. A dark shadow loomed over her – a suit of black glypharmor. All around her radiated the tingling, crawling aura of potent sorcery. 

She was still in Mihaela’s workshop.

After a long moment her heart and her breathing slowed. Caina grabbed at the glypharmor’s boot, her fingers digging into the grooves of the hieroglyphs, and sat up.

Mihaela, Sicarion, and Torius were gone. So was Mihaela’s Forge. Mihaela most likely moved it to the Hall of Assembly to expedite the transformation process. There was no sign of Talekhris’s corpse. Sicarion must have dumped it into the molten metal to slow whatever process allowed the Sage to awaken from death.

Which would explain the faint smell of scorched flesh in the air.

Caina eased herself to her feet, dizziness washing through her. She did not feel at all well, which made sense, given that she had technically died. And worse, the Moroaica had been freed. 

And even worse, Mihaela would use the Forge to create an army of glypharmor. 

Unless Caina stopped her.

She took a step forward, managed to keep her balance, and then took another. 

Though finding a way to stop Mihaela seemed unlikely. Caina was exhausted and alone. Her allies had either been duped by Mihaela or were too far away to help. She didn’t even have her ghostsilver dagger …

In her peculiar dream she had seen Corvalis kneeling over her corpse, pain on his face. He had taken her dagger. And if the vision had been true, that meant he had escaped from Mihaela’s trap.

He was still alive. For now.

If Caina could keep him that way. 

She turned, trying to ignore the dizziness and the nausea. It was too late to warn Zalandris and the ambassadors. But Mihaela and her mercenaries would be vulnerable while they used the Forge to convert fresh victims into new suits of glypharmor.

Halfdan, Caina decided. Halfdan could draw on Saddiq’s mercenaries and additional men from the city. Additionally, she suspected he had some influence over the Imperial Guard cohort that had accompanied Lord Titus from Malarae. If Halfdan could persuade them that Lord Titus was in danger, the Guards would act. 

Caina just had to get to Halfdan.

And hope that the Imperial Guards could stop Mihaela before she made too many suits of glypharmor, because one glypharmor-equipped man could wipe out the entire cohort. Half a dozen would be invincible. And a score of them could probably conquer every city for a thousand miles…

There was no time for worry. She had to get moving. 

She took a deep breath, gathering her strength…and heard a woman crying. 

Caina stopped, hand darting to one of her remaining throwing knives. Her eyes roved over the cluttered workshop. Perhaps Mihaela had kept penned captives here, keeping them chained until she needed them for an experiment. 

After a moment Caina realized she could not pinpoint the source of the weeping.

An instant after that, she realized the crying was coming from inside her own head. 

She raised her hands to cover her ears. Still the crying echoed inside her own head, a voice full of misery and woe. Was the voice even real? Had Mihaela’s spell damaged Caina’s mind, leaving her to hear things that weren’t there?

“Gods,” said Caina. “The last thing I need is to go mad.”

The crying stopped with a gasp.

“You can hear me?” said the woman’s voice, speaking Anshani. “Please, by the Living Flame, tell me that you can hear me!”

“I can,” said Caina, turning in a circle. “Where are you?”

“Here!” said the woman. “I am here! Why can you not see me?” 

Caina’s eyes fell upon the suit of red glypharmor, the one Mihaela had used to slaughter the criminals. Again she felt the peculiar attraction to the suit. But it was…different, this time, less compelling, less magnetic. Yet it was still there. Some of the attraction had been Jadriga’s power responding to the glypharmor, but the Moroaica was gone now.

So why did Caina still feel drawn to the armor?

Flawed. Mihaela had said the designs created using red Nhabati steel had been flawed. 

“You,” said the woman’s voice. “I remember you. I saw you after Mihaela…after Mihaela made me kill all those men.”

The armor was talking to her? 

The thought was ludicrous. But was it? Mihaela had created it using necromancy, binding the soul of a living sorcerer into the steel. Torius had gloated how Marcus would remaining screaming inside the armor for all eternity. And if Mihaela had said the red armor was flawed, did that mean the soul within retained more power that she had liked?

“You had two souls,” said the woman’s voice, “one dark, and one scarred. I could see them both. I couldn’t see that way when I served in the Hall…”

The realization struck Caina like a physical blow.

“Oh,” she said. “You’re Ardasha, aren’t you?”

Stunned silence answered her.

“You know me?” said the voice at last. “How do you know me?”

“Shaizid,” said Caina, limping towards the red glypharmor. “Your brother Shaizid. He asked me to find you.”

“Oh, my poor Shaizid,” said Ardasha. “I promised my mother I would look after him always, and now I have failed. Oh, Shaizid!”

“Mihaela betrayed you, didn’t she?” said Caina. “She murdered you and bound your soul into the armor.”

“She promised to teach me,” said Ardasha. “She said I would become a Seeker, that I would help her. I thought…I thought if I was a Seeker, I could take care of Shaizid, like I promised my mother.” She groaned. “But she betrayed me. Mihaela strapped me into the Forge, and cast her spells, and…and…”

Her voice dissolved into sobbing. 

“I’m sorry,” said Caina. “Shaizid is still alive, if it’s any comfort. But he might not be for long if Mihaela finishes her work.”

“What is she doing?” said Ardasha. 

“She lured the most powerful sorcerers in the world here with promises of glypharmor,” said Caina. “She’s incapacitated both them and the Sages, and she’s going to transform them into glypharmor.” 

“Oh, by the Living Flame,” moaned Ardasha. “This is my fault. My fault. If…”

“It’s Mihaela’s fault,” said Caina. “She murdered you.”

“Why can you hear me?” said Ardasha. “No one else can. Not even Mihaela. I have screamed and screamed, but you are the first to hear me.”

“I think it is because of what happened to me as a child,” said Caina. She stopped before the red glypharmor, gazing up at the helm. “I was wounded by a necromancer, and ever since I have been able to feel the presence of sorcery. That’s why I can hear you. I think…I’m going to try something…”

She reached out with her bare hand and placed it upon the cold steel of the glypharmor’s leg.

An electric jolt shot through Caina. A vision burned before her eyes of an Anshani woman hanging in a net of chains, the links piercing her flesh, blood running down her dark skin. The woman screamed and fought, but the chains held her fast. 

And they would hold her fast for all eternity.

Caina stepped back, breathing hard, her head spinning.

“I saw you,” said Ardasha, her voice full of wonder. “I saw who you really are. You are the Balarigar. Shaizid and I heard the stories. How the Balarigar freed the slaves in Marsis.”

“The Balarigar,” said Caina, “is only a story.”

“You can free Shaizid,” said Ardasha, “and you can stop Mihaela.”

“How?” said Caina. “I can’t do it by myself. Mihaela and her allies will kill me on sight. I can get help from the Imperial Guards, but just one suit of glypharmor can slaughter them all.” Her hands curled into fists. “I might be able to kill Mihaela from a distance with a crossbow. But I can’t destroy her damned Forge. Even if I kill her, Sicarion or Torius will keep using the Forge.”

“There is a way,” said Ardasha, her voice full of terrified hope.

“What?” said Caina.

“Use me,” said Ardasha.

“Use you?” said Caina, puzzled. “What does…”

Then she understood.

“No,” Caina said. “Absolutely not. The Forge is monstrous, and what Mihaela did to you is monstrous. I will not wield that kind of power.”

If she did, she would be no better than Claudia.

“You must,” said Ardasha. “You have no chance alone. With my help, you can destroy the Forge and bring Mihaela to account.”

“Sorcery is evil,” said Caina. “I want to stop it, not use it.”

“Mihaela used the sorcery,” said Ardasha. “Mihaela did this to me. You will help stop her from doing it to others.”

“You were a slave when you came to Catekharon,” said Caina. “Mihaela promised you freedom, and instead she enslaved you more profoundly than ever.” She shook her head. “If I do this, if I use the glypharmor, I would be no better than her. She made you a slave, and I would do the same in turn.”

“You must!” said Ardasha, her voice full of anguish. “Else Shaizid will surely die.”

“And using you would be suicide,” said Caina. “If I try to attack Mihaela wearing a suit of glypharmor, she’ll take control of me.”

“She cannot!” said Ardasha. “Not with this glypharmor. The design was flawed. That is why she abandoned using red steel. Her spells of domination did not work. I am still enslaved in the steel…but she cannot control anyone wearing a suit of red glypharmor.” 

Caina had seen firsthand the brutal power of the red glypharmor. With it, Caina would be all but invincible. She could force her way through Mihaela’s mercenaries, smash the Forge to shreds, and kill Mihaela herself. Neither Torius nor Sicarion would be able to stop her. 

But it would mean using sorcery. It would mean using an enslaved soul as a weapon.

“I cannot do this!” whispered Caina.

“Please,” said Ardasha. “Mihaela did this to me against my will. But I want you to use me. I give you permission. If you don’t…more people will suffer as I have suffered. You can save them.”

Caina could use the glypharmor to defeat Mihaela. But Claudia had thought to use the power of the glypharmor for good, and her folly had all but guaranteed Mihaela’s victory. What would happen if Caina tried to use the glypharmor?

“Is there no one you want to save?” said Ardasha. “Someone you love as I love Shaizid? Mihaela will wage war against the entire world. If you love anyone, they will perish when she unleashes the glypharmor.” 

Caina thought of Corvalis, of Halfdan. They would try to stop Mihaela, and Mihaela would kill them both. Kylon and Claudia would be fed to the Forge, enslaved forever as living suits of necromantic armor. Neither of them deserved that. Theodosia and Ark and Tanya and Nicolai lived in Malarae…and if Mihaela was victorious, then one day warriors wearing suits of glypharmor would stalk the streets of the Imperial capital, killing with every stride.

Unless Caina stopped Mihaela first.

“Damn it,” she whispered. “How do I get into this thing?”

“Under the bottom edge of the cuirass,” said Ardasha. “There is a groove. Rest your hand there, and the armor will open.”