Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 08 - Ghost in the Mask (40 page)

She took a deep breath and flung another throwing knife with all her strength.

The blade caught Maena in the side of her belly, and the sorceress rocked back with a scream. Caina threw another knife, the blade sinking into Maena’s thigh. Maena groaned, and Caina raced forward. She threw herself into Maena and knocked the younger woman to the ground. The bloodcrystal bounced from her grasp, and her hands locked around Caina’s wrists, stopping the ghostsilver dagger from reaching her heart. 

Caina strained, and Maena’s eyes widened. Even exhausted, she was still stronger than Maena…

A surge of sorcerous power, and invisible force seized Caina and flung her against the wall. The spell flickered and shuddered, but still held her pinned. Maena stalked forward, blood dripping from her wounds, and yanked a dagger from her belt.

“I should have done this long ago,” she spat, “you…”

She stopped and shuddered.

A foot of steel sword blade erupted from Maena’s chest, and a shadow behind her resolved into the form of Corvalis.

The dagger fell from Maena’s limp fingers, and the spell holding Caina faded.

“I always regretted,” rasped Corvalis, “that I never killed you for what you did to Claudia. I suppose life realy does sometimes grant second chances.”

He pulled his sword free, and Maena fell dead to the floor. 

Caina climbed to her feet, and Corvalis wavered and leaned up his sword like a cane.

“Corvalis,” she said, looking at his injuries.

“It’s fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not just saying that. Cut on my leg. Nasty, but I’ve got tied off.” He pointed at the floor. “You’d better destroy that before someone else steals the damned thing.” 

The Ascendant Bloodcrystal lay upon the floor, hieroglyphs dancing over its facets.

Caina nodded, went to one knee, and raised the ghostsilver dagger.

“Folly.”

It was her mother’s voice.

Her mother stood on the other side of the crystal. Laeria’s eyes glowed with green fire, and the light from the crystal’s glyphs played over her pale skin. 

Corvalis cursed and lifted his sword. “You!”

“You can see her?” said Caina.

“Her?” said Corvalis. “That’s my father. Who do you see?”

“My mother,” said Caina. “But it’s not really either of them. It’s the will of the Ascendant Bloodcrystal, manifesting in our minds.”

“Yes,” said Laeria.

“And I think,” said Caina, “that it manifests as whoever we hate the most. The thing has a will of its own, and its will is to destroy.” 

“You understand,” said Laeria. “My purpose will be fulfilled. I will destroy, as I was made to destroy.”

“No,” said Caina, lifting the dagger.

“Perhaps I will destroy through you,” said Laeria. 

“You won’t,” said Caina.

“I can give you what you want,” said Laeria. “My power will be used, whether you will it or not. Why not use it yourself? I could restore your father to you. Sebastian Amalas could live again.”

Caina hesitated.

“What is it telling you?” said Corvalis. “Don’t listen to it.”

“You love that man?” said Laeria. “I can heal you. You can bear his children. As many as you wish. That, too, is within my power.”

Caina’s fingers tightened against the dagger’s hilt, loosened, tightened again. 

“All this can be yours,” said Laeria, “if you take me up and wield my power.”

“All that will be mine,” said Caina, “if I use you…and you kill hundreds of thousands of people? No. I’m not Maglarion, I’m not Rhames, and whatever Horemb might think, I’m not the Moroaica, either.” She glared at the phantasm. “And I am not my mother.”

She hammered the ghostsilver dagger into the Ascendant Bloodcrystal.

The crystal looked hard, but the dagger sank into it like soft butter. Green light erupted from the impact, along with hundreds of tiny specks of emerald light. A web of cracks spread over the crystal’s surface, and Caina felt the dagger straining against the bloodcrystal, the weapon growing hot.

The image of Laeria Amalas rippled and wavered.

“Folly,” she said. “You cannot stop my purpose.”

“Watch me,” said Caina, and stabbed the crystal again. 

The Ascendant Bloodcrystal split in two with a hideous scream.

Laeria shrieked in fury and then vanished. A ring of green fire erupted from the broken crystal, ripping through the walls and floor alike. It passed through Caina with a chill, and for a moment she thought the fire would suck away her life, leave her withered and desiccated like the victim of a Dustblade. 

But the fire passed through her and vanished, and the shards of the Ascendant Bloodcrystal withered into smoking black ash.

And Caina felt the terrible aura fade away.

She looked up at Corvalis.

“I think,” she said, “I think we won.”

###

Kylon’s eyes twitched open, his vision swimming into focus. 

He sat up with a groan.

Cold black stone lay beneath him. He was on the broken balcony. The ruined basilica was dark, the only light coming from the shattered dome overhead. 

Kylon frowned. Something was wrong …

The light from the Ascendant Bloodcrystal was gone. Had Rhames taken it? No…Kylon couldn’t feel its presence. The crystal was gone.

And there was no sign of Rhames or his seset-kadahn. 

Overpowering relief swept through him.

The crystal had been destroyed. He only hoped Caina had survived. Corvalis, too. He knew what it felt like to see a lover fall to a grievous wound, and that was not a feeling he would wish on her. 

He stood, stretching his battered limbs. He felt terrible, and wanted to collapse motionless to the floor. But the sorcery of water gave him stamina, and strength enough to at least move. He ought to see if Claudia Aberon and Martin Dorius were still alive. Or Maena.

Or Sicarion.

He tightened his grip on his sword, and reached for the sorcery of water. The furious aura of the Ascendant Bloodcrystal had blunted his senses, like the light of the sun drowning out a candle’s glow. But now the aura was gone, and his senses had regained their usual sharpness. 

Kylon felt Claudia and Lord Martin lying near the dais, not far from Harkus. All three were still alive, if injured. 

And he felt something else, some echo of sorcerous power.

He swept his eyes over the rubble. A shattered table lay nearby, an iron box jutting from the debris. He knelt and pried open the lid of the box. 

Blue light met his eyes. 

A dozen thumb-sized gems filled the iron box, glowing with an inner light. Kylon sensed intricate sorcery bound within the gems, power intended to break other sorcery, to undo spells.

Blue bloodcrystals.

Kylon closed his eyes in relief. The Surge had been right.

He stood, tucking the iron box under one arm, and went to help Claudia and Martin.

###

Strong arms helped Claudia to sit up. 

“You’re alive,” said Martin, voice rough with pain and fatigue. “Thank the gods. I would not have wanted to explain your death to Mistress Komnene.”

Claudia shook her head, looked around the ruined Chamber of Ascension. The bloodcrystal was gone, as was Rhames. So were Caina and Corvalis. Kylon walked towards them, sword in hand, an iron box under his arm.

“What…what happened?” said Claudia.

“I don’t know,” said Martin. 

Kylon stopped a few paces away. “The Ascendant Bloodcrystal is destroyed, I’m sure of it. I don’t know what happened to the others.”

“We’re here.”

Claudia turned her head, saw Caina and Corvalis step into the Chamber of Ascension. Both had removed their cowls and shadow-cloaks, and looked utterly exhausted. Corvalis moved with a limp, wincing with every step.

Yet they were both alive. Corvalis was alive. 

Claudia felt something wet on her cheeks. She was crying with relief.

“It’s over,” said Caina. “Rhames is dead. Again. And the bloodcrystal…the bloodcrystal is destroyed. What did you do? I was sure Rhames was going to kill us, but you distracted him.”

Claudia sniffled, and then laughed. “I…I offered to join him.”

Corvalis blinked. “You did?” 

“Not really, of course,” said Claudia. “But I thought you had a plan, and if I had already failed, I thought I could delay, buy you time…”

“No,” said Caina, shaking her head. “No, you didn’t fail.”

Claudia bit her lip. “Thank you.”

Caina looked around at the wreckage. “Let’s go home.”

Chapter 29 - Promises

Caina slept for most of the next day and all of the night, and awoke with every joint in her body throbbing.

She eased herself out of bed with a quiet groan and took a few hobbling steps forward, wincing at the stiffness in her joints. Bruises covered her legs and belly from the pounding she had taken, and she worked through a few exercises until the stiffness was under control. 

Corvalis lay sleeping in the bed, white bandages binding his leg and his right side. He must have been exhausted – usually he woke at the drop of a pin. 

Caina kissed his forehead, then pulled on the black robes of Rania Scorneus. She stepped into the sitting room, and out of habit started to call Alexandra to bring breakfast.

But Alexandra was gone. She had never existed, had only been an illusion wrapped around the Moroaica. Caina remembered the way Alexandra had looked at Corvalis and shuddered. Alexandra might have been nothing but a disguise, but the Moroaica had Caina’s memories, and apparently Caina’s feelings about Corvalis. 

Caina pushed aside the thought. She could do nothing about it.

Instead she went to the common room in search of breakfast and tea. 

The common room was deserted, save for a maid wiping down the tables, and for a man in leather armor descending the steps, a rucksack slung over his shoulder.

“Lord Milartes,” said Caina.

Kylon stopped. “Mistress Rania.”

The maid glanced at them and went about her work. Caina and Kylon stepped closer to the hearth, where they would not be overhead. 

“You are leaving so soon?” said Caina. “Komnene thought you might need more time to recover.”

“I do,” said Kylon, “but I cannot be idle. Not while Thalastre lies between life and death, and I have the means to cure her.” He shrugged. “And I can sleep on the ship.”

Caina nodded. “Thank you for your help. Without your assistance, I think Rhames or Maena would have killed us all…and the Kingdom of the Rising Sun would be rising anew over the ashes of the Empire.”

“And the ashes of New Kyre, as well,” said Kylon. “Rhames did not seem the sort to stop.”

Caina remembered what Horemb’s spirit had told her, how the Undying became frozen in their purpose. “No. No, he did not.”

Kylon hesitated. “I confess, when I realized what would happen, I considered fleeing, and allowing events to take their course. The Empire is on the verge of destroying New Kyre, and Rhames’s actions could have been a great boon.” He shook his head. “But he would have conquered New Kyre in the end. And so many deaths upon my conscience…I would not want that. Not death on the scale that Rhames planned.” 

“This war is a folly,” said Caina. “We both know it. Andromache and the Moroaica started it for their own ends, and now Andromache is dead and the Moroaica cares nothing for the Empire or for New Kyre. There is no good reason, none at all, for it to continue.”

“Yet now that the advantage lies with the Empire,” said Kylon, “I fear your lords will not surrender it.”

Caina thought of Corbould Maraeus and Titus Iconias. “No. They would not.”

“Then you should take this news back to your circlemasters,” said Kylon. “I may be betraying my city by telling you this, or perhaps I might save it. If the Empire convinces Anshan to stop selling grain to New Kyre, the Assembly will retaliate with the stormsingers. They will work a spell to alter the weather over the Empire, to cut off the rain for as long as they can manage.”

“But that…that would cause a famine,” said Caina. “And a spell that large…could the stormsingers control it? They might cause famines in Anshan and Istarinmul. That could touch off a war that would leave half the world in ruin.”

“You see the stakes, then,” said Kylon. “The Assembly grows desperate, and if they become desperate enough, they will not hesitate to see the world burn alongside New Kyre.” 

“I will tell the circlemasters,” said Caina. “If the Empire and New Kyre have the power to destroy each other, perhaps we can use that to force peace.”

“Perhaps,” said Kylon. “Caina. Thank you for your help. If not for your aid, I do not think I would ever have found the blue bloodcrystals.”

“Your Thalastre,” said Caina. “She is a fortunate woman.”

“I hope she is,” said Kylon. He bowed. “Until we meet again.”

He turned to go.

“You seem certain of it,” said Caina.

He stopped. “Of what?”

“That we will meet again,” said Caina.

Kylon sighed. “The Surge predicted it. She told me I would find the blue bloodcrystals in Caer Magia. And she said that you were the Balarigar, that you will face the Moroaica, or the world will be consumed.”

“Rubbish,” said Caina. 

Kylon lifted his pack. “But she was right about the bloodcrystals, wasn’t she?”

Caina said nothing.

“Safe journeys, Kylon,” she said at last.

“And to you, Ghost,” he said, and left the Inn of the Seven Skulls.

###

“You should be in bed,” said Komnene, tapping her cane against the floorboards of the shop.

“I’m fine,” said Claudia, though in truth she felt light-headed. Still, there was work to be done, and if she lay abed, she would brood upon what she had seen in Caer Magia. 

And she was tired of brooding.

“Such a lovely young lady,” murmured Talekhris, sitting upon the table. “So diligent. So hardworking.” He smiled. “What was your name again?”

“Claudia,” she said.

Komnene and Harkus shared at a look.

They had taken Talekhris’s corpse from the wreckage of Maena’s camp. As Harkus expected, Talekhris returned to life, the grievous wounds Sicarion had given him healed, leaving a fresh set of ghastly scars upon his torso. Yet Talekhris’s personality had changed again, and not for the better. He was rarely lucid, and forgot names and places. He could not remember anything that had happened in Calvarium, and could only remember Harkus and the Order intermittently.