Ghost in the Tower

by Jonathan Moeller

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  “Then the answer came to me,” said Ariadne, the memory flooding before her eyes. “Every two weeks, my husband had a dinner with his business partners, the others who were helping to fund his cruel enterprise and reap the profits. I knew what I had to do. I apologized to him over the incident with the orphan girl and said that he was right, that I would be more careful. I helped him with the dinner and arranged everything. I even purchased a special wine for the dinner, a rare vintage from the vineyards of Caer Marist. And I knew an apothecary who specialized in poisons. I stole some of his inventory, and on the night of the dinner…I poisoned the wine.”

  Caina said nothing. Ariadne remembered Quartius’s corpse lying on the floor next to the table, the cold puddle of poisoned wine spreading near his dead hand.

  “I killed them all,” said Ariadne. “My husband, and the fourteen merchants and minor nobles who helped fund his venture and made use of it. They all drank the wine, too much of it, and they fell asleep and died. Painless, really. They never knew what happened. No one ever suspected. Their deaths looked like the return of the plague, and there was a minor panic for a few days, but it subsided. I put on a black veil and played the grieving widow…but my husband’s body was not even cold before I went to that damned warehouse. There were dozens of children there, and I took them to the Temple of Hestia. Quartius’s fortune came to me, and I gave it to the temple, and I made sure they found a place for those children. Some were adopted. Quite a few of the girls joined the temple. Others joined the craft and merchant collegia. Money opens many doors, and I burned up all of Quartius’s wealth taking care of those children.” Ariadne ran a shaking hand over her face, saw her fingers come away wet with tears again. Gods, it had been over fifteen years ago now, and she was still weeping about it? “Sophia was wrong about me, you see. I don’t have any special claim on virtue. And I can be just as ruthless as Talmania.”

  “You're harder on yourself than necessary,” said Caina.

  “I murdered fifteen men in cold blood,” said Ariadne.

  “Men who were selling children for profit,” said Caina. “Ariadne, listen. When I joined the Ghosts, one of my teachers told me that people respond to evil in one of three ways. They ignore and do nothing. They pray and hope the gods will intervene. Or they act. You acted.”

  “So I have tried to tell myself for many years,” said Ariadne.

  “You acted…and it had a cost for you,” said Caina. “Just as it’s had a cost for me. If it helps, I would have killed those men as well. And I have killed men like them. Sophia mentioned the Boyar’s Hunt.” Ariadne nodded. “Razdan Nagrach of Kostiv and his szlachts were all mavrokhi. He would have taken Sophia and six girls like her, driven them into the woods, hunted them down, ravished them, and then eaten them alive. I came across Sophia by chance, and I stopped the Hunt. I killed Razdan and all his szlachts. Well, I had help, but I planned their deaths. They died on the edge of my valikon and Kylon’s, and I burned some of them alive. And I don’t regret it. If given a chance, I would do it all over again. I did warn Razdan what I would do if he didn’t let Sophia go…and he made his choice. But that’s evading responsibility. I killed him, I don’t regret it, and I would do it again.” She pointed at Ariadne. “You might be a better woman than I am.”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” said Ariadne.

  “Because you regret it,” said Caina. “You wish you could have found a different way. But there wasn’t another way. You know it, but you still regret it. Me…there’s something cold inside my heart, something iron-hard. Kylon says my emotional sense is like ice wrapped around fire, and I think he’s right. I’ve had to kill a lot of my enemies over the years. And…I don’t really regret it, not anymore. I sometimes wish it would have gone differently, or that I could have found another way, but I don’t suffer guilt over it. Not the way you do.” She shrugged. “I think that means you have a better, wiser heart than I do.”

  “Does it?” said Ariadne.

  Caina shrugged. “What else could it mean?”

  “That you have the heart of a valikarion, like one of the Arvaltyri knights of old,” said Ariadne. “Or maybe you really are the Balarigar, the demonslayer sent by the gods to throw down wicked sorcerers and corrupt lords.”

  “For the Divine’s sake,” said Caina. “There’s no such thing as the Balarigar. It’s a legend and nothing more. I was there when it started, and it only began because I was in a rage and threw Rezir Shahan’s head into a crowd of his soldiers. I even encouraged it at times when I thought it was useful. But it’s just a legend.”

  Ariadne smiled. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the only reason that legend exists?”

  “A few times,” said Caina. She looked as if she had just taken a bite out of something sour. “But, you see…it seems like we have more in common than just Talmania or our bloodline.”

  “So it would seem,” said Ariadne. “I…hope you will let me say that I am glad I met you. And that I could tell you…what I just told you.”

  Caina nodded. “Have you ever told anyone else?”

  “Just my husband and his father.”

  Caina’s eyes widened. “You told that story to Lord Corbould Maraeus? And he still let his son marry you?”

  “Corbould Maraeus hangs slavers whenever he gets the chance. I think he finds it relaxing,” said Ariadne. “Not out of any moral objections to the practice of slavery. But he’s the Lord of one of the oldest Houses in the Empire, dating back to the First Empire and Nicokator himself, and he thinks slavery is…beneath him. That lesser men, weaker men, might think to own slaves, but a Lord of the Empire should not sully himself with such uncivilized barbarity. When I…told him what happened to Quartius, he said that it would have been better if Quartius and his friends had been hanged after a public trial, but given the endemic corruption of the Magisterium, vigilante action was acceptable in this instance.”

  “Why would you tell that story to Corbould Maraeus?” said Caina. “I’m never going to meet my husband’s parents since they died when he was a boy. But if I did, I wouldn’t want to tell them how I killed my mother or some of the other things I’ve done.”

  “Ah, well, I had already told Conn,” said Ariadne.

  “What did he think?”

  “He approved,” said Ariadne, remember the overwhelming relief she had felt. “You see, he loves his children. He knows how furious he would have been if they had been hurt when they were still young. That’s why he entrusted me with Alassan while he is on campaign. He knows I will look after the boy.” She took a deep breath. “I know both Conn and his father are hard men, stern men. I’m afraid it’s necessary for nobles of their rank and position. But they are not corrupt. Not the way that men like Decius Aberon and his friends are.”

  They sat in silence for a moment. Caina’s eyes scanned the common room. Ariadne felt foolish. They had serious problems before them, and this was not the time for an emotional confession. But nonetheless, Ariadne felt better for having told her tale to Caina. Lighter, somehow. Ariadne wasn’t sure why.

  Perhaps because Caina understood what it cost to take justice into one’s own hands.

  “Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me,” said Caina at last. “Especially since you’ve only known me a day.”

  Ariadne laughed. “Gods, I know. I’m usually more cautious. But Sophia is right, Caina. We do have a lot in common with Talmania…and with each other, I think.”

  “If I had been born with arcane talent,” said Caina, “I’m afraid I would have turned into someone like Talmania. But I hope I would have become someone like you.”

  “That’s very kind,” said Ariadne. “But it’s just as well you’re a valikarion. I think the world needs more valikarion.”

  “We have our uses,” agreed Caina. She turned her head. “Sophia and Markaine are coming back.”

  “You said she was young enough to be his great-great-great-grandda
ughter,” said Ariadne. “Just how old is Master Markaine?”

  “Old,” said Caina, and Sophia and Markaine rejoined them. “Anything?”

  “This place,” said Sophia, folding her arms over her chest, “is absolutely disgusting.”

  “No argument,” said Ariadne.

  “All those enspelled mirrors,” said Sophia.

  “We saw nothing unusual,” said Markaine, picking up his wine cup. He sniffed at it, shrugged, and took a swallow. “The magi here are either focused on their individual intrigues or their planned debaucheries for the evening. Nothing suspicious.”

  “I think Master Markaine is right,” said Sophia. “I could only sense some emotional auras. Many of the magi have shielding spells in place. But of those who do not, the primary emotion I sensed seemed to be…er, strong lust. And drunkenness.”

  “Not the ideal state of mind for planning to murder high magi,” said Markaine.

  “You would know,” said Caina.

  “Yes,” said Markaine.

  “Did you see any Caerish women?” said Caina.

  “Oh, a few,” said Markaine. “But they were either too young or too old. If this Riona Canwyll is still alive, she’d be about your aunt’s age, aye?” He waved a hand at Ariadne. “Give or take a few years.” Ariadne nodded. “The only Caerish women I saw were the serving maids or a few elderly magi enjoying their wine. If Canwyll is at the Black Mirror, she’s not in the common room.”

  “It’s possible that Aureon and Canwyll only used the Black Mirror as a meeting place,” said Ariadne.

  “Agreed,” said Caina. She thought for a moment. “Or she’s staying in one of the rooms upstairs. If she wanted to hide out quietly between forcing high magi to commit suicide, this would be the place to do it. Let’s see if we can bribe one of the serving maids into letting us know which rooms are occupied. If that doesn’t work, we’ll go back to your house and try a new line of approach in the morning…”

  Her voice trailed off, and then her eyes went wide.

  “What is it?” said Markaine, hand twitching towards that peculiar black dagger of his.

  “Don’t be obvious about it,” said Caina, “but look at the man who just came into the common room.”

  Ariadne glanced down, lifting her wine cup to cover the movement. Through the iron grillwork of the railing, she saw a heavyset man wrapped in a hooded cloak step into the common room. The cloak hung around him with unnatural stillness, and shadows filled the cowl. The man had a spell of illusion wrapped around him to conceal his features. It was obvious, but the disguise couldn’t be dispelled without an equally obvious effort.

  But Caina was a valikarion, and she saw through illusions with ease.

  “Looks like he wants to avoid drawing attention to himself,” said Markaine.

  “That makes sense,” said Caina, taking a deep breath. “Since that’s Decius Aberon.”

  Chapter 13: Preside Over The Ruins

  Caina sat motionless, watching the First Magus walk across the common room of the Black Mirror.

  Looking at him was a peculiar, vertigo-inducing experience.

  Caina’s physical eyes saw the cloaked and hooded form created by the illusion spell. The vision of the valikarion perceived the illusion spell as a silver glow wrapped around him. And because she could see through the illusion spell, her physical eyes also simultaneously saw Decius Aberon’s true form.

  The combination was already giving her a headache.

  Tyros hurried to meet the First Magus, and the two men spoke in low voices.

  “He’s alone,” murmured Ariadne. “No guards at all. He never goes anywhere without guards.”

  “Then he doesn’t want anyone to know why he’s here,” said Morgant. “Not even his pet Magisterial Guards. Or his own supporters. Perhaps he’s here to satisfy some appetites that not even his supporters would condone.”

  Sophia shuddered. Caina remembered Ariadne’s story about the orphans.

  “No, that’s not it,” said Ariadne. “Decius Aberon’s appetites, alas, are both well-known and entirely conventional. He likes beautiful women, the more of them, the better. If he wants women, he doesn’t need to come here to find them.”

  Tyros offered a polite bow, and the cloaked form of Decius nodded and strode away. He crossed the common room and headed for the stairs leading to the balcony.

  “Damn it, he’s coming up here,” said Caina. She looked around. “Quick, quick. Into that booth on the wall. We’ll be able to see the stairs without him noticing our presence. Go. Sophia, get the tray.”

  In haste, they returned their cups to the tray, and then Caina rose. They hurried across the balcony and settled into the booth, Sophia carrying the tray. Caina sat and lifted her wine cup to her face, and the others followed suit. A moment later Decius Aberon climbed onto the balcony.

  As it happened, Caina’s caution was unnecessary. Decius paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, leaning forward slightly, hand on his left hip. Caina wondered what he was doing and then realized that Decius had stopped to catch his breath after ascending the stairs. Evidently, the First Magus was just as fit as he looked. After he caught his breath, he lumbered forward, heading to a door on the far side of the balcony.

  “Those lead to the guest rooms,” said Ariadne.

  “Then he’s meeting someone here,” said Morgant.

  “Aye,” said Caina.

  She made the decision at once.

  “Wait here,” said Caina. “I’m going to follow him.”

  “Is that wise?” said Ariadne.

  “Probably not,” said Caina. “But I can do it. He’ll have sensing spells around him, but they won’t work on me. And I can follow him and remain unseen.” She shrugged out of her wolf-fur cloak, leaving it on the seat of the booth. Her shadow-cloak had been coiled against her back, and she tucked the bundle under one arm.

  “And if you don’t come back?” said Morgant.

  “She will return,” said Sophia with firm conviction.

  “Wait an hour,” said Caina. “If I’m not back by then, come look for me.”

  She got to her feet, hurried across the balcony, and slipped through the door Decius had used. A wooden staircase rose into the gloom. Caina heard the creak of the stairs ahead, heard Decius’s harsh, labored breathing as he climbed. She glided up the steps in silence, and as she did, she donned her shadow-cloak, throwing it over her shoulders and pulling up the cowl. Since she was a valikarion, she no longer had need of its ability to block mind-affecting spells, but it blended nicely with the shadows and aided her in remaining unseen.

  The First Magus climbed both flights of stairs and came to the top floor of the Black Mirror. The landing had another of those dark mirrors. Caina was curious to see if the mirror’s power would penetrate the First Magus’s disguise, but it only showed his cloaked and cowled form.

  It did not show Caina’s reflection. Even knowing why it was still a damned peculiar feeling.

  Decius opened the door to the top floor and strode through it. Caina crouched next to the door and peered around the jamb. The First Magus walked down a gloomy, red-lit corridor lined with wooden doors. To judge from the width between the doors, they opened into suites. Likely luxury accommodations for high-paying guests. Decius stopped before one of the doors and knocked, folding his arms over his chest.

  A moment later someone opened the door, and Caina heard a woman’s voice. Decius stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Caina glided forward in silence, stopping before the closed door. She tried the knob. No luck there – it had locked behind Decius. She put her ear to the door and heard Decius’s low voice and a woman’s higher tones, but the door was thick enough that Caina couldn’t make out the voices.

  The lock on the door wouldn’t pose any problem. But going through the door might be suicide. Caina didn’t know what the layout of the room was like, and there might not be any cover. Decius Aberon could not sense Caina’s presence, but he was still a powe
rful sorcerer, and if he saw her, he could crush her skull with a single blast of psychokinetic force.

  Damn it. If Caina could just hear what they were saying…

  A better idea came to her.

  She turned, walked to the next door on the left, and tried the knob. It was open, and Caina swung it open just far enough to slip inside and closed it behind her. The smell of strong alcohol and vomit and other bodily fluids came to her nose, and she looked around. She had stepped into a small parlor, lit by a glass globe with a crimson tint. The smell came from a door on the opposite side of the parlor, and Caina crossed to the door and peered through. Beyond was a large bedroom with gaudy furnishings. A massive bed dominated the room, and a magus’s robe and crimson sash lay crumpled at the foot of the bed. In the bed lay a naked man on his side, probably the owner of the robe. The smell of alcohol and vomit came from him, and as Caina drew closer, she saw that his head was resting in a puddle of his own sick.

  Tyros was probably going to charge him extra for ruining the bed.

  But it was just as well. If the magus was sleeping with his head in a pool of vomit, he was going to sleep through whatever Caina did.

  She crossed to the window and opened the shutters.

  A blast of cold winter air struck her, and Caina peered out the window. As she remembered from her first sight of the Black Mirror, there was a narrow ledge that ran underneath the windows. It was wide enough that Caina would have no trouble keeping her balance.

  But the wind, though.

  There was nothing for it. Caina gritted her teeth, climbed out the window, and eased onto the ledge. A gust of cold wind tugged at her clothes, and she was grateful she had left the cloak of wolf fur with Ariadne. Though the warmth would have been pleasant right about now. Caina crept along the edge, testing each step with care, her gloved hands braced against the stone wall. The damned stone of the wall was so smooth that if she lost her balance, she wasn’t going to be able to get a grip on anything.