Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 07 - Ghost in the Ashes (15 page)

Still the question of the compass gnawed at her. 

The blood compass’s presence meant that an Alchemist, perhaps even Sinan himself, wanted Mahdriva. Yet Sinan must have seen Mahdriva in the entry hall of the mansion, and he had not left until he sensed the presence of the blood compass. Perhaps he recognized the compass’s maker, a more powerful Alchemist he did not want to offend. 

“But why?” muttered Caina, putting the blood compass on the windowsill of their bedroom. The street outside, the street where she had first seen the Kindred in the fog, was empty and deserted. 

“You truly do want to save her,” said Corvalis, “don’t you?”

“Who? Mahdriva?” said Caina. “Of course. She doesn’t deserve what’s happened to her, Corvalis.” 

“No,” said Corvalis, his hand resting on the small of her back. “But many people have suffered things they did not deserve.”

“True,” said Caina, “but I can keep her from suffering worse. She can have her child, Corvalis. The Ghosts can find a place for her in Malarae, both for her and Muravin. We just have to find who wants to kill her.”

“And who wants to kill Tanzir,” said Corvalis.

“That’s no mystery,” said Caina. “His mother wants him dead, and Sinan and the Bostaji came to carry out her wishes.” She shook her head. “Though even that is connected to Mahdriva somehow, I’m sure of it. I wish I could see how.” She leaned against him. “But I will. I will find a way, Corvalis…and I will save her. Both her and her child.”

They stood in silence for a moment, his arm curled around her shoulders. 

“You know what this is about,” said Corvalis, “don’t you?”

“Oh?” said Caina. “Enlighten me.” 

“The Kindred killed her sisters,” said Corvalis, “and their unborn children. They’re trying to take her unborn child, the gods know why. And that’s why you care so much. You can’t have children yourself, so you’re going to save Mahdriva’s child for her.”

Caina laughed.

“What?” said Corvalis.

“Give me credit for having some self-awareness,” said Caina. “I know who I am, Corvalis. I know why I do what I do. I would help Mahdriva and Muravin anyway…but I see myself in her. Or myself as I could have been, had things been different. I can’t have children. I’ve made my peace with that. I won’t have a family of my own…but I can save the families of others.”

His arm tightened around her. “The way you saved Claudia.”

“Yes,” whispered Caina. “And I will save Mahdriva and her child, if it is in my power.”

Corvalis laughed. “Caina Amalas. Claudia used to talk about saving the world. But you could do it.” He snorted. “I suppose you have, if even half the stories Halfdan has told me about you are true.” He turned her to face him. “You may not have a family, but you’re not alone.”

“No,” said Caina, “no, I suppose I’m…”

He silenced her with a long kiss, and a short time later they were in bed together, despite the long and trying day. Nothing fired Corvalis’s blood like a brush with death…and she had been surprised to discover that the same was true about her, as well.

After they finished she slumped back against the pillows, sweating and breathing hard, and soon dropped into a black and dreamless sleep. 

###

Caina awoke with the sun in her eyes.

She sat up with a yawn, pushing lank hair from her face. Corvalis lay on his back next to her, breathing slowly. Caina stood, the floorboards chill against her bare feet, her joints stiff and sore. She had pushed herself hard yesterday. Caina moved through a series of stretches, working the knots from her arms and legs.

Corvalis remained sleeping, and he usually awoke at the drop of a pin. Yesterday had indeed been exhausting.

Of course, she had helped wear him out.

Caina took a carafe of wine from the sideboard and took a swallow, washing the dryness from her mouth. She took a sheet from the bed, wrapped it around herself, and padded to the window. It was well past sunrise, later than she had wanted to sleep. Well, Mahdriva and Tanzir would be safe at the Lord Ambassador’s mansion, and Shaizid could handle matters at the House of Kularus. The blood compass still sat upon the windowsill, its needle pointing towards the ambassador’s house. 

Caina picked up the compass with her free hand, gazing at the blood-colored needle. The metal felt cold and heavy in her grasp, and the faint tingle of active sorcery washed over her hand. 

But it was fainter than it had been last night.

She turned in a circle, holding the compass before her.

And again the tingling grew stronger as she turned to the south. No – more to the southwest. But as she turned north, the tingling faded. 

She paused, faced south again, and felt the tingling strengthen. 

Caina shook her head, and saw Corvalis standing near her.

“I would ask,” he said, “why you are wearing a sheet and waving that compass about, but I’m sure you have a good reason.” 

“There is something odd about it,” said Caina. “It’s designed to point at Mahdriva. The needle never wavers from that.” She swung the compass to the southwest and felt the tingling sensation grow sharper. “But the sorcery feels…stronger, somehow, whenever I point it to the southwest. I can’t figure out why.”

Corvalis shrugged, the black lines of the tattoo on his chest twitching. “Maybe it’s reacting to something.”

Caina blinked. “Reacting…”

Then she understood. 

“Corvalis,” she said.

“What is it?” he said, looking around in alarm at her tone.

“I think,” said Caina. She took a deep breath. “I think I know how to find Nalazar.”

###

Caina usually did not resent the time it took to don whatever disguise was most appropriate, but the delay as she pulled on a gown and arranged her hair and put on jewelry grated on her. Still, it was necessary. Anton Kularus and Sonya Tornesti could hardly wander around Malarae like a pair of vagabonds…and a pair of ragged mercenaries would not gain entrance to the Lord Ambassador’s house.

But the delay chafed as they rode in Anton Kularus’s coach to the Lord Ambassador’s house. The blood compass rested in a leather pouch at Caina’s belt. If she was right, if she had puzzled out the mystery, perhaps she could find the Kindred and save Mahdriva from them before the end of the day. 

The coach stopped before the Lord Ambassador’s residence, the whitewashed walls gleaming in the morning sunlight. Caina saw a dozen Imperial Guards standing before the mansion’s doors, more standing guard on the roof and patrolling around the mansion. The Bostaji would find it hard to get at Sinan…and the Kindred would find it just as difficult to reach Mahdriva. 

Four of the Guards approached as Caina and Corvalis climbed down from the coach. “Halt and identify yourself.”

Corvalis smiled. “Anton Kularus.”

“Your business?” said the Guard. “The Lord Ambassador’s residence is closed while the emir meets with Lord Titus.”

“Actually, I’m here to see Master Basil Callenius,” said Corvalis. “He should be with Lord Titus, and I suspect he’ll want to speak with me. I have news about an urgent matter.”

“A moment,” said the Guard, and one of the men vanished into the mansion. 

He turned a moment later.

“You may enter,” said the Guard. “Master Basil awaits you in the guard room. Attempt to enter any other part of the Lord Ambassador’s residence, and we will cut you down.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Corvalis. 

Caina put her arm in Corvalis’s, and the Guards led them into the entry hall. Halfdan awaited them in the guard room, clad in a fresh robe and cap. He looked almost cheerful.

“You must have slept well,” said Corvalis, once the Guards had closed the door behind them.

“Not really,” said Halfdan, “but success is almost as refreshing as sleep. I persuaded Lord Titus to conduct most of the negotiations here.”

“Isn’t that a concession of weakness?” said Corvalis. “Meeting with the ambassador in his residence?”

“It is,” said Halfdan, “but given that the Padishah wants peace, and is willing to cede large portions of the Argamaz Desert to the Empire, a concession here costs the Emperor nothing. And it may keep the emir alive. The Bostaji can’t get to him here, not as long as the Imperial Guard watches him, and once the negotiations are complete, the Bostaji will no longer have any reason to kill him.” He looked at Caina. “What have you found?”

She took the compass from her belt pouch. “I think I can use this to locate the Kindred.”

“How?” said Halfdan.

“The…aura of power around it feels stronger whenever I point it towards the southwestern corner of the city,” said Caina. “I’m not sure why. But I think it’s reacting to the blood compass Nalazar still holds. The enspelled needle was fused to Mahdriva’s blood, and it reacts to her presence. So why shouldn’t the two needles react to each other?” 

“Then you think the aura will grow stronger the closer the two blood compasses get?” said Halfdan.

“I believe so,” said Caina. “And unless Nalazar has the ability to sense the presence of sorcery, he won’t realize what is happening. If we’re careful, we can figure out where the Istarish Kindred are hiding…and then get rid of them.” 

“Do it,” said Halfdan. “If you can find Nalazar and the Kindred, I will arrange to strike them at once.”

Caina nodded, and she and Corvalis left the mansion to begin the hunt.

Chapter 15 - Serpents’ Nest

“It’s getting stronger,” said Caina, her hand thrust into the pocket of her coat.

She and Corvalis walked down a narrow lane in Malarae’s dockside district. Corvalis had again traded Anton Kularus’s finery for the rough grab of a wandering mercenary. Caina wore her caravan guard disguise, blond hair hanging loose and ragged around her head, but she also wore a ragged gray coat over her leather armor. The thing was damnably hot and made her arms itch, but it did have deep pockets.

Which allowed her to hold the blood compass unseen. 

“That’s just as well,” said Corvalis. “We’re not in a safe part of the city.”

This part of the dockside district held seedy taverns, pawn shops, brothels, the sort of apothecaries that sold poisons under the table, and tenements towering six or seven stories over the street. Men sat on the stairs of the tenements and shops, drinking wine and watching Caina and Corvalis with cold, predatory eyes. 

It was not the sort of place Caina would want to visit alone, even while disguised as a man. 

It was also the perfect place for the Kindred to hide. A few bribes to the local gangs of thieves, and no one would speak a word to the Ghosts. And since those who betrayed the Kindred tended to wash in with the morning tide, the locals had plenty of motivation to keep their mouths shut.

But Caina had the blood compass.

“Think we’ll get mugged?” said Caina.

“Doubtful,” said Corvalis. “Two caravan guards planning to spend their pay on drink and whores aren’t good targets. After we’re drunk and can’t defend ourselves, aye. But not until then, and not during the daylight.” He glanced at a group of men who stood in an alley. “But if some of them are bold enough and drunk enough, I might have to kill a few.”

“Try to avoid that,” said Caina. “That will draw attention.”

Corvalis nodded, and they kept walking, Caina feeling the compass’s pulse of sorcery. It was strong here, and grew stronger the further they walked southwest. The other blood compass had to be near…

They turned a corner, and Caina saw the tavern. 

It looked little different than the others she had seen, a ramshackle building of brick and wood with a sagging roof of clay tiles. The top floors held rented rooms, while the bottom floor held the tavern itself. The sign hanging over the door had been painted with a twisted green serpent.

“The Serpents’ Nest,” said Corvalis, reading the sign. 

“It’s there,” said Caina.

The blood compass vibrated in her grasp, and when she pointed it at the tavern, she felt a low thrum that went down into her bones. 

“Truly? They’re hiding in a tavern named the Serpents’ Nest?” said Corvalis. “That’s bold.” 

“This is it,” said Caina. “Don’t turn around, but I think there’s a sentry on the roof of the warehouse across the street.”

“There would be,” said Corvalis. “And I bet there’s one in that room on the top floor overlooking the street. You’re right. This has to be the place. Do we go back and tell Halfdan?”

“Not yet,” said Caina. “Not until we’ve had a look around.”

“It’s dangerous,” said Corvalis.

“Of course it is,” said Caina. She thought for a moment. “Caerish mercenaries?”

“Ones looking for work,” said Corvalis. They had used the ruse before. “I’ll do the talking. You look around. You’re better at it than I am anyway.” 

Caina nodded, and they strode into the Serpents’ Nest.

A flight of stone stairs dropped into a cellar, and they walked into the tavern’s common room. The room was dim and smoky, lit only by the smoldering glow of twin hearths. Battered chairs and tables stood strewn about the dirt floor, and men sat in the corners, speaking in low voices over clay cups of beer. A bar ran the length of one wall, and an enormously fat man in a leather apron stood there, his bushy black beard hanging halfway down his chest. 

Every eye in the room turned towards Caina and Corvalis for a moment, weighing them, and then looked away. 

“Well?” said the landlord with a surly glare. “What do you want?”

“Beer,” said Corvalis with a thick Caerish accent, “and work, if you have it.”

He slapped some copper coins upon the bar. The landlord squinted at them, made the coins disappear, and handed over to clay cups of beer. Corvalis took a drink, and Caina sipped from hers, trying her very best not to grimace at the taste. 

“Work, you say?” said the landlord. “I’m not looking to hire any bouncers. Everyone here is a well-behaved gentleman, don’t you know it.”

He snickered at his own joke.

Corvalis grinned. “Oh, aye, I’m sure your patrons are the lords of the Imperial Curia. But I’m looking for a job, and I figure a well-connected fellow like you might know of work for a fighting man like myself.”

The landlord grunted. “Why don’t you have work now?”

“I did,” said Corvalis, “yesterday. My brother and me,” he jerked his head at Caina, “helped escort a merchant caravan out of the Mardonish provinces. Came to Malarae, and the merchant decided to hire some damned Anshani for guards instead of us.” He spat upon the floor. “Serves the cheap bastard right if the Anshani take his goods and gutted him like a pig.”

The landlord looked Caina up and down. “This scrawny little fellow is a mercenary?”

Corvalis shrugged. “He’s not very good in a fight, but I promised our mother I would look out for him.”

“Go to hell,” said Caina.

Both Corvalis and the landlord laughed.

“Aye, I might know where you can get some work,” said the landlord. “War with the Istarish is ending, or so they say, so the lords won’t be hiring mercenaries for the campaign in the south. You could try one of the established companies – they’re always looking for fighting men. Or you could head up the Megaros valley to the Imperial Pale. They always need swords up there.”

Corvalis snorted. “I’d prefer not to end up in a frozen grave.”

The landlord laughed. “Don’t be so picky. You’re a fool with a sword, not a lord of the Empire. Either fight, go toil on a farm, or beg.”

“What about something more local?” said Corvalis. “Some merchant whose caravans need guarding?”

The landlord snorted. “Does it look like wealthy merchants frequent my tavern?”

“Or,” said Corvalis, “someone who needs things done…quietly, on the side.” 

“I might have something,” said the landlord, “for a man who can keep his mouth shut.” 

They kept talking, insulting each other with friendly indifference, and Caina put a bored expression on her face. Her eyes roved over the common room of the Serpents’ Nest, seeking for anything unusual. The patrons looked like common thieves and workers, and she saw nothing exceptional about them.

Except…

Years of practice kept the surprise off her face.

Except that one of the men wore a bola at this belt.

The Bostaji were here, too? Were they working with Nalazar and the Kindred? 

“To hell with that,” said Caina. “Let’s go.”

Corvalis scowled at her. “He might have work for us.”

“What, washing his floors?” said Caina. She pushed away from the bar. “I need a piss.”

“Up the back stairs and into the alley,” growled the landlord. “You piss on my floor, I’ll beat you black and blue.”

Caina gave him a rude gesture, walked across the common room, and climbed the stairs at the far end of the cellar. The stairs ended in a narrow wooden door that opened into the alley behind the tavern. To judge from the stench, the alley had an opening directly into the city’s sewers. But the stairs continued towards the upper levels of the Serpents’ Nest. 

She shot a quick glance over her shoulder, saw that no one had followed her, and reached into her coat pocket for the blood compass. The tingling grew stronger as she lifted it, so strong it felt as if tiny knives stabbed into her skin. 

Nalazar, she suspected, was somewhere above.

Caina took a deep breath, ignoring the smell, and glided up the stairs, taking care to keep her boots from making any sound. She went up one flight of stairs, and then the next, following the feel of the blood compass until she came to the top floor. Corvalis had seen a lookout keeping watch over the street, and she wondered if the Kindred had made their lair up here. 

She crept down the hallway, straining not to make a sound, waving the compass back and forth.

There. The tingling was strongest in front of that door. She suspected it opened into the lookout’s room. 

And she heard voices coming from within. 

Caina hesitated, decided to take another gamble, and pressed her ear against the door. 

She heard Nalazar’s voice. 

“We need more men to pull this off, Tasca,” said Nalazar. “The Ghosts moved the damned girl to the Lord Ambassador’s residence, and they’ve got three or four hundred Imperial Guards crawling around the place.”

“Then send a lone assassin to take her,” said Tasca, “rather than this nonsense about open attacks. Which, I should point out, I told you was a bad idea at the House of Kularus.”

“Don’t remind me,” snapped Nalazar. “And there are too many Guards for an infiltration. We can’t get at the girl, and we’re running out of time. The client wants the girl, alive, with her child yet unborn. She will give birth any day.” 

“Why does the client want an unborn child, anyway?” said Tasca.

“Do I look foolish enough to ask?” said Nalazar. “But I need more men.”

“And you will not have them,” said Tasca. “The Elder of Malarae is…sympathetic to your plight. But you already lost the men he loaned you at the House of Kularus, men that represented years of training. Their skills are now lost to the Kindred of Malarae, and you will have no more help from us.”

“Damn it,” said Nalazar. “That is not good enough.”

Caina could almost hear Tasca’s shrug. “That is not my concern, nor is it the Elder’s. If you had wished to avoid this difficulty, then you should have taken the girl alive while she was still in Istarinmul.”

Nalazar barked a curse. “I would have, if not for her damned father. Who knew one old man could put up such a fierce fight?”

“You ought to have killed him in his sleep first,” said Tasca.

“Thank you for that helpful advice,” said Nalazar, his voice heavy with annoyance. “If the Elder will not spare any more brothers, then perhaps he might assist with coin? With proper planning, a small team of skilled mercenaries could break into the Lord Ambassador’s residence and steal away the girl before the Imperial Guards react.” 

“Perhaps,” said Tasca, “though such mercenaries would require a great deal of coin. The Elder would like to see some return on this investment.”

“He will,” said Nalazar, “once we are successful. The client is desperate for the girl’s child, and will pay any sum we ask.”

“The best kind of client,” said Tasca with a laugh. “Why not ask the Bostaji for help?”

“No,” said Nalazar. “Absolutely not.”

“Why not?” said Tasca. “You both need to get into the Lord Ambassador’s mansion. And the Bostaji want that fat buffoon of an emir, not the girl. You can work together to obtain your goals, and then go your separate ways.”

“Because the Bostaji are madmen,” said Nalazar. “We are Kindred, Tasca. We are the wolves that cull the weak from the herd of humanity, making the race of man stronger and fitter. But the Bostaji are fanatics and nothing more. They believe their Shahenshah is the chosen of the Living Flame, the representative of the divine on earth, and they will do anything in his name. If they think it necessary to kill us all to reach Tanzir Shahan, they would do it. I could see the Bostaji agreeing to a joint attack with us, only to betray us and kill the emir while we’re busy getting slaughtered by the Imperial Guards.” 

“Then the answer is obvious,” said Tasca. “Speak to your client and ask for his assistance. Surely he has certain…skills that could aid you.” 

“He does,” said Nalazar, “but I am not particularly eager to ask him.” 

“He made those blood compasses for you,” said Tasca.

“He only did that,” said Nalazar, “grudgingly, once Mahdriva eluded us. A sorcerer like him, Tasca…no one in their right mind trifles with such a man. Bad enough to admit failure to him once. But twice? He might decide to kill us all and hire someone else for the task.”

Tasca laughed, long and loud. “Surely one man is incapable of posing such a threat.”

“This man is,” said Nalazar. “He is not the most powerful sorcerer I have ever encountered, true…but he is desperate, and desperation mated to power is a dangerous combination.” 

“Desperate enough,” said Tasca, “to aid you? If he so desperately needs the girl and her unborn brat for some sorcerous purpose, then he will give you whatever aid you require. It’s all a matter of phrasing, brother Nalazar. Simply tell him that you have a plan for success, but it requires some arcane assistance. Your client will fall over himself to aid you. Desperate men do not think clearly.”

“Perhaps you are right,” said Nalazar. “I shall think on it.”

“Think quickly,” said Tasca. “As you said, the girl shall give birth any day…and if she does, this will all have been for nothing.”

“Indeed,” said Nalazar. “Come! Let us get some food. This wretched landlord is incapable of preparing any meal without boiling it into tasteless mush…”

Caina pushed away from the door and moved towards the stairs as fast as she dared. She had no doubt that other Kindred were resting in the nearby rooms, and they would wake at Nalazar’s call.

If Nalazar saw her, she was going to die.

She glided down the stairs, back to the cellar and the common room. Caina hesitated for a moment, hand on her dagger hilt. But no one appeared on the stairs. 

Nalazar and Tasca had gone for food…and they had not noticed Caina.

She let out a long breath, thanking Halfdan for all those years he had made her practice stealth at the Vineyard. 

Then she strode into the common room, making no effort to muffle her footfalls. Corvalis still leaned against the bar, gesturing with his cup of beer. The landlord scowled up at her.

“What the hell took so long?” he said.

“I ate a lot of cabbage,” said Caina, using her disguised voice. She jerked her head at the door. “Let’s go. The stench of this place is turning my stomach.”