Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 08 - Ghost in the Mask (26 page)

“I know,” said Caina. 

And she knew that she would lose Corvalis one day, whether Maena killed them tomorrow or in fifty years when they died of old age. No matter what she did, no matter what choices she made, one day she would lose Corvalis, or she would die first and he would lose her. 

It seemed so unjust. But every generation before her had shared the same fate. Why should she and Corvalis be immune? And she had seen what happened when men tried to defy mortality and live forever, the horrors that had been wrought by Maglarion and the Moroaica and her disciples. 

Perhaps it was better that men died before they grew into monsters. 

“What do you think awaits us after death?” said Caina.

Corvalis shrugged. “I don’t presume to know. I have heard a dozen things from as many priests.”

“The priests of the Living Flame,” said Caina, “say that we are reborn over and over again, purging the evil from our souls until we can become one with the Living Flame.” 

Corvalis laughed. “I hope not. I have had enough suffering for one lifetime, and so have you.” He thought for a moment. “I know the priests of the gods of the Empire claim that the valiant and just are rewarded, and the wicked and cruel condemned. Sometimes I hope this is so, for evil is so rarely punished in this life.” He shrugged. “And sometimes I hope not, for there is innocent blood upon my hands.” 

“I know,” said Caina, thinking of those she regretted killing. 

“The Ulkaari shaman who gave me these tattoos,” said Corvalis, gesturing as the swirling black lines on the hard muscles of his chest and belly, “said the valiant join their ancestors in the next world, while the faithless wander forever in a waterless desert. I hope not. I would hate to spend eternity with my father.”

Caina smiled. “Perhaps we could spend it with mine. He would have liked you.” 

“I wish I could have met him,” said Corvalis. “Though what would I say to him? That I am an assassin of the Kindred and the bastard son of the First Magus, and that I wanted to share a bed with your daughter even since I laid eyes upon her? I can only imagine his expression.”

Caina laughed at the image, and Corvalis started laughing, too.

“I once heard,” said Caina, “a priest say that the sovereign of the gods judges all men after their death, and weighs their good deeds and their evil deeds.”

“Upon a scale, I assume?” said Corvalis. “And then if the evil outweighs the good, the dead man is condemned?”

“No,” said Caina. “If the man is truly remorseful, if he regrets his evil deeds and repents of his crimes, then the sovereign of the gods forgives him and spares him.”

“That seems cheap,” said Corvalis. “So if a man like Maglarion or Ranarius comes before the tribunal and claims he’s sorry, he is let off without punishment?”

“Perhaps. But do you think they ever regretted anything?” said Caina. “They might have killed themselves in despair, had they seen themselves for what they really were.”

“I doubt it,” said Corvalis. “I hope your priest was right. I have done much that I regret, and that I could undo if I could. Has not every man?” 

“As have I,” said Caina.

“But there is one thing I will never regret,” said Corvalis. “You.”

He kissed her, and Caina rested her head against his chest and fell asleep.

###

And in her sleep, the dream came again. 

She stood on the cliff overlooking the raging sea, the black sky rippling overhead. Bolt after bolt of green lightning jumped from cloud to cloud, throwing an eerie green glow over the dead plain and the furious sea. A cold wind howled from the waves, tugging at Caina’s black hair and green dress.

Her mother waited at the edge of the cliff, still wearing her gold-trimmed black gown, her eyes ablaze with pale green fire.

“This isn’t a dream, not really,” said Caina. “This is something else.”

Laeria Amalas’s lips curled in a half-smile. “Astute.” 

“And you’re something wearing my mother’s image,” said Caina. “Who are you?”

“The end,” whispered Laeria. 

“The end of what?” said Caina.

“The world,” said Laeria. “Or the world as you know it. The world of the living shall soon become one with the world of the dead, forever and ever.” 

“Are you the Moroaica?” said Caina. “If you are Jadriga, this is more annoying than even your usual games.”

“No,” said Laeria. “The Moroaica dies and lives over and over again. I have never died, nor have I ever lived.” 

“Then are you Rhames?” said Caina.

“The priest?” said Laeria. “I am not him. Both the priest and the sorceress are fools. One seeks to rule the world, and the other seeks to remake it in a new form. But both walk the paths to destruction.”

“Then who are you?” said Caina. “Stop prevaricating and tell me.”

“I am the instrument,” said Laeria. “I am the threshold. I am the catalyst. Through me the world will be changed, and millions yet unborn shall perish.” She pointed. “Behold my coming.”

The green light blazing beneath the waves burned brighter, and the sea turned to black glass. The world shattered around Caina, and darkness swallowed her.

###

She sat up with a gasping cry, sweat dripping down her face and back. She felt Corvalis’s arms around her shoulders, and slumped into him. 

“You were having another dream,” he said. “A nightmare.”

Caina nodded. “But I…I don’t think it was a dream. It was something else. Someone was speaking to me.”

“Who?” said Corvalis.

“I don’t know,” said Caina.

###

Someone knocked at the shop’s door.

Claudia took a deep breath, smoothed the front of her apron, and opened it.

A middle-aged man stood in the street outside, clad in leather armor and a heavy cloak, his black hair streaked with gray. A sword hung at his belt, and a crossbow had been slung over his shoulder. Both weapons were well-maintained, and the man looked as if he knew how to use them.

“Good morning,” said the man. “My name is Harkus. Might I enter? I was told a friend awaits me here.”

Claudia nodded and stepped to the side, and Harkus entered the shop.

Caina stood one side of a table, clad again in the stark black robe of a magus. Corvalis waited at her right, wearing the black armor of a Magisterial Guard. Kylon stood some distance away, relaxed and calm, but his eyes never stopped moving over his surroundings. Komnene waited near one of the shelves, leaning upon her cane.

Harkus bowed to Caina. “Mistress Rania. It is good to see you well.”

“Despite your best efforts?” said Caina.

Harkus smiled. “That was unfortunate. But I am pleased you escaped me. And I am pleased you escaped whatever happened at Caer Magia yesterday.” 

“Thank you,” said Caina. “Could not Talekhris himself come?” 

“He sensed the presence of the Moroaica outside the town,” said Harkus, “and went to investigate. He hopes to join us shortly. But I will convey any message you wish to him.” 

“I know what is inside Caer Magia,” said Caina, “and I know why Maena, Anashir, and the cult of Anubankh want to claim it. Do you know what an Ascendant Bloodcrystal is?”

Harkus shook his head, and then recognition came into his face. “That is a relic of old Maat, a mighty weapon that could kill everyone within a city.” His eyes widened. “That’s what happened to Caer Magia, isn’t it? The high magi tried to make one, and they killed themselves and everyone else within the walls.”

Caina nodded. “And the crystal is still inside the city. Maena is a disciple of the Moroaica. Sicarion is with her, and she wants to seize the crystal for her master. Anashir claims he wants to see the crystal destroyed, but I frankly believe he wants it for himself. And a surviving Great Necromancer named Rhames commands the cult of Anubankh, and he wants to use the bloodcrystal to rebuild the Kingdom of the Rising Sun.” 

“You have been busy since our last meeting,” said Harkus. 

“I prefer not to waste time in idleness,” said Caina.

“Plainly,” said Harkus. “A Great Necromancer of old Maat…are you certain?”

“No,” said Caina, “but it seems likely.”

“Gods have mercy,” said Harkus. “Then our situation seems dire. How do you suggest we proceed?”

“It will not be truly dire,” said Caina, “until someone lays hands upon the Ascendant Bloodcrystal. And of them all, I think Maena is the closest to doing it. We scouted Caer Magia yesterday, and she and Sicarion almost killed us. We only escaped because Anashir arrived, and I don’t think Maena is ready to confront him.”

“Why did Anashir help you?” said Harkus.

“I suspect,” said Corvalis, “because he wanted to point us as a weapon against Maena, to clear his path to the bloodcrystal.”

“That is my thought as well,” said Caina. “Maena has already heavily damaged the wards surrounding the Chamber of Ascension. I think Anashir’s plan is to have us kill Maena. Then he can undo the remaining wards around the Chamber and take the bloodcrystal for himself.”

“Then why,” said Harkus, “do we want to go along with him?”

Claudia had to admit that was a good question. 

“Because,” said Caina, “Maena, Anashir, and Rhames are all threats to us…but they are enemies, as well, and none of them care very much about the Ghosts or the Order of the Venatorii. Anashir thinks that if we remove Maena, his path will be clear to the Ascendant Bloodcrystal. But that could just as easily prompt Rhames and his cult to attack him.”

“So you think if we eliminate one of the three enemies,” said Harkus, “then the other two will fight. How then do we deal with the victor?”

“We strike while he is weakened,” said Caina. “And that is why we need your help, and the help of Talekhris. I am hoping to strike against Maena’s camp this very night. We have a sorcerer among our number,” Claudia looked away, “but her skills do not lie in battle spells. Talekhris is accustomed to violence. We will need his power to overcome Maena and to defend against the Moroaica or Rhames if they intervene.” 

“A sound plan, I think,” said Harkus. “Though no plan of battle survives the first clash of swords.”

“I know,” said Caina. The cold voice she used as Rania Scorneus grew a bit strained. “And men will die. Perhaps many men. But far more men, and women and children as well, will perish if anyone claims the Ascendant Bloodcrystal.”

“We shall need more men,” said Harkus. “I brought forty men of the Order with me to Calvarium, all of them capable fighters. They will equal Lady Maena’s mercenaries in skill. Yet she has at least four hundred men with her in that camp, perhaps more. Even we cannot overcome so many.”

“We shall have help,” said Caina. “I hope to persuade Lord Martin to call out the militia for the attack.”

Harkus frowned. “Will he come to our aid?”

“He will,” said Caina. “I believe he can be persuaded.”

Claudia looked away again, hoping to hide the flush that came to her cheeks. She hated having to put Martin in this position. She had not lied to him, but she had not told him the entire truth, either. He didn’t deserve this deception.

She saw a shadow flowing across the street, and her doubts vanished in a sudden burst of concern.

“Very well,” said Harkus. “I will speak to the Sage. I cannot make any promises, but I think he will be amenable. The risk of disaster is too great if the Ascendant Bloodcrystal is taken from Caer Magia. We…”

A gray fog filled the street outside the shop, resolving into vaguely human shapes.

“Corvalis!” she shouted, stepping back from the windows and pointing. “Something’s outside.”

They fell silent and looked at the windows, and then Corvalis cursed in alarm.

“Dust Shades!” said Kylon. “Defend yourselves!”

The gray shadows walked through the wall, reaching for Claudia with rippling hands.

Chapter 19 - Allies

Caina drew her ghostsilver dagger, and Kylon and Corvalis and Muravin and Harkus all lifted their own weapons. But they moved too slow, and the mass of Dust Shades lunged at Claudia. 

Corvalis was going to see his sister die in front of him.

But Claudia raised her hands, and Caina felt a spike of sorcerous power. 

White light flashed, and a volley of sparks erupted from Claudia’s fingers and tore into the advancing Dust Shades. The sparks ripped through the shadows like hot knives through paper, and the front rank dissolved into smoke. Claudia stumbled back, more sparks flying from her hands. 

The shadows continued to advance. 

###

A wave of exhaustion rolled through Claudia, yet she forced herself to remained focused, forced herself to summon more arcane power. Corvalis had described these Dust Shades to her, and she knew spells that could harm them. 

Yet she could not keep up the barrage forever, and dozens of shadows poured through the wall.

A silvery gleam flashed before her eyes. Caina was there, black robe flying around her, the curved ghostsilver dagger a blur in her hand. The blade burned white whenever it touched a shadow, and the Dust Shades unraveled, the spells binding them burned away. Kylon was at her side, a white rime of frost covering his sword. The touch of his weapon turned the Dust Shades into particles of ice.

Yet still the creatures poured through the walls. 

Strong hands closed around her shoulders and pulled her back. Corvalis tugged her away from the battle. Harkus stood nearby, holding an odd rod of silvery metal. Bursts of silver light came from the rod, and each one disintegrated a Dust Shade.

Komnene rummaged through one of the shelves, muttering under her breath.

Caina and Kylon and Harkus were putting up a ferocious fight, but more and more Dust Shades poured through the front wall. Sooner or later they would be surrounded and overwhelmed. The wretched creatures needed only one touch to kill.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” said Caina. A Dust Shade reached for her, and Kylon dispatched the creature with a quick thrust.

“Through the back door,” said Corvalis, turning Claudia in that direction. “Quickly!”