Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7)

by Jonathan Moeller

  Which meant Kalgri knew just how to find Caina Amalas.

  Chapter 17: The Umbarian Circle

  “What do you think?” said Caina, looking at the sprawling building.

  Kylon grunted. “It looks expensive.”

  He had never been at ease with luxury. As a child in House Kardamnos, he had been expected to become a warrior, and so had spent most of his childhood training in the arts of war and sorcery. Later he had spent his days aboard the triremes of New Kyre’s navy, fighting pirates and privateers of other nations, and had been comfortable sleeping upon the deck of a ship. When he had become the High Seat of House Kardamnos and an Archon of the Assembly of New Kyre, luxury had simply been part of his duties, though he had never been at peace with it.

  And the Gilded Throne looked very luxurious.

  Unlike most of the palaces of Istarinmul, it was built only on one level, a maze of domes and pillared colonnades. Kylon realized that each of the domes belonged to a miniature Istarish palace. A visiting noble or wealthy merchant could rent one of those miniature palaces and pretend to live like an Istarish emir for a few weeks.

  It seemed like a waste of money.

  “Oh, it is,” said Caina. “So it’s a perfect place for a gang of thieves to hide.”

  “Good thing Nasser has been a thief for a century and a half,” said Kylon. “He’d need that long to save up the money for a single night here.”

  Caina laughed. After speaking with Lord Martin and Claudia, they had returned to the Sanctuary of the Ghosts behind the House of Agabyzus long enough to obtain better disguises. Caina had dressed herself in an ornamented robe and turban similar to the outfit Agabyzus employed, marking her as a minor functionary of the Padishah’s court. A bit of makeup to age her face and add the illusion of stubble completed the disguise. It would draw more attention than her usual caravan guard disguise, but a common caravan guard would likely be captured by the Grand Wazir’s roving press gangs and enrolled in the Istarish army. Kylon had disguised himself as the magistrate’s bodyguard, with chain mail, a spiked helmet, and a black tabard adorned with the Padishah’s sword-and-crown sigil in silver thread.

  They had drawn some stares, but no one stopped them, and no one had attacked them.

  Kylon kept a close watch on their surroundings, the valikon ready in its scabbard. If any attackers showed themselves, he would be ready.

  If the Huntress returned, he would be ready.

  They entered the Gilded Throne’s outer courtyard. Slaves in silk robes hastened over. Caina gave them a false name, and one of the slaves led them through the gleaming white colonnades to one of the miniature palaces. They waited until the slave departed, and then Caina raised her fist and knocked.

  A moment passed, and one of the doors opened a crack. Laertes stood within, a crossbow cradled in his arms. He scowled at Caina, looked at Kylon, blinked with recognition, and then look back at Caina.

  “Good evening, Laertes,” said Caina. “Please don’t shoot me.”

  Laertes snorted. “Didn’t recognize you until I saw the Kyracian. Gods, you have a knack for disguise. I felt the fool when I realized you were a woman, but at least you put the work into fooling us.” He opened the door and let them into the outer courtyard of the little palace. A fountain bubbled at the center, and the open ceiling showed the stars overhead.

  “I’m relieved I don’t have to bother any longer, at least in front of you and Nasser,” said Caina. “Pretending to be a man for weeks on end was very tiring.”

  “I can imagine,” said Laertes. He considered. “Actually, I can’t. I’ll leave the clever lies to you and Nasser. They’re waiting in the dining hall.”

  “Wait a moment,” said Caina. “Could you send Nasser out here? I want to ask him something before we start.”

  Laertes considered that. “What is it?”

  “Something that might be dangerous to know,” said Caina.

  “Very well,” said Laertes. He crossed the courtyard and disappeared into the door on the other side of the fountain.

  “You have an idea,” said Kylon.

  Caina nodded, her eyes staring at nothing in particular. “Maybe. I think so. If it is…well, we’ll see if Nasser knows or not.”

  The door opened, and Nasser Glasshand walked alone into the courtyard, wearing his usual dark clothing, his scimitar at his belt and his left hand concealed beneath the glove and bracer. In his right hand he carried the Staff of Iramis, still disguised as a common leather-wrapped spear.

  “Caina Amalas,” said Nasser, his white smile flashing across his dark face. “I would kiss your hand in greeting, but I fear that would rather spoil your disguise.”

  “Indeed,” said Caina. “I learned something today. Wraithblood isn’t an alchemical Elixir.”

  Nasser blinked. “What is it, then?”

  “Bloodcrystals,” said Caina. “Thousands upon thousands of tiny bloodcrystals, suspended in liquid. I think Callatas based them upon the Subjugant Bloodcrystal Kharnaces had in in his Tomb.”

  “I see,” murmured Nasser. “Yes. That makes an alarming amount of sense. Maatish necromancy always relied upon blood.”

  “Kharnaces told me that bloodcrystals are grown from a base,” said Caina, “the blood of an original victim, and the original victim is immune to the effects of that individual bloodcrystal. I’ve had firsthand experience with that.” Kylon thought of the scar below her navel, and wondered if that had been acquired as a result of that experience. “All the bloodcrystals in the wraithblood would have been grown in the laboratories from the original bloodcrystal…”

  “And if we can find and destroy the original bloodcrystal,” said Nasser, “then it is possible the wraithblood will become inert…and the damage done to the wraithblood addicts may be reversed?”

  “That is my hope,” said Caina. “It is a long shot, I know, but if we’re right…Nerina’s eyes, Nasser. The eyes of the wraithblood addicts. They change color because they are glowing. We just never realized it. If we can destroy the wraithblood and undo its effects, then Callatas cannot work his Apotheosis. Even if Callatas kills us and takes the relics, he won’t be able to finish the Apotheosis. He can summon all the nagataaru he likes, but if they don’t have host vessels they’ll be pulled back into the netherworld.”

  “A daring thought indeed,” said Nasser. “Once we secure the relics in Catekharon, we should investigate this further. However, I do recall you said you had a question for me.”

  “Is the Star of Iramis a bloodcrystal?” said Caina.

  Kylon looked at her in surprise. The Star was one of the three pieces of the regalia of the Iramisian Princes. Annarah and Morgant had hidden the Staff and the Seal in the Tomb of Kharnaces. Callatas had stolen the Star, and used its power to destroy Iramis. Yet the thought that the loremasters of Iramis would have permitted the Prince to carry a necromantic bloodcrystal seemed unlikely.

  “No,” said Nasser.

  “Then what is it?” said Caina. “The Staff can summon spirits, and the Seal can bind them. What does the Star do?”

  “I confess that I have no idea,” said Nasser. “I believe it is a source of arcane power, a wellspring from which a sorcerer can draw tremendous strength. Certainly that explains how Callatas destroyed Iramis. Yet as to the precise nature of the Star, I can offer no explanation. I fear Annarah would not know, either. The high loremasters would have known, but Annarah had not yet reached that rank.”

  Caina sighed. “It was just a thought. If the Star was a bloodcrystal, I wondered if Callatas had used it to grow the wraithblood. It would have been too easy to defeat the Apotheosis by shattering the Star with the valikon.”

  “Alas, victory is rarely easy,” said Nasser. “You know that as well as I do. Shall we plan our next one together?”

  ###

  Caina followed Nasser and Kylon into the dining hall.

  The others had gathered there, with food and wine and coffee already upon the table. Annarah and Morgant sat at
one end of the long table, Morgant with his boots propped up on the table as usual. Claudia and Martin had arrived via sedan chairs, disguised as Istarish nobles, and sat opposite the loremaster and the assassin. Claudia looked wan and tired, her green eyes glittering fever-bright, but was discussing the Words of Lore with Annarah. Caina wished that Claudia had remained at the Imperial embassy, but Claudia had insisted on coming.

  She was just as stubborn as Corvalis had been.

  Nerina and Malcolm sat further down the table, Malcolm eating with enthusiasm from a tray of stuffed mushrooms. Behind them stood a towering man in the sand-colored robes and turban of the Sarbian desert nomads, the hilt of a two-handed scimitar rising over his shoulder. A gray-shot black beard shaded his jaw and chin, and scars marked his face and hands. His expression was hard, but he smiled at the sight of Caina.

  “Azaces,” said Caina. “It is good to see you.”

  “He insisted on coming, once he learned you had returned,” said Malcolm, gesturing with one of the stuffed mushrooms. Given that Azaces had once betrayed Malcolm to the Inferno on the orders of Nerina’s father, the two men had a reasonably civil relationship. “Besides, he’s good at chopping off heads, and I suspect we’ll need a lot of that before this is over.”

  “The probability approaches one hundred percent,” said Nerina.

  Azaces approached, scribbling with a piece of chalk on a small slate. His tongue had been taken as a boy, but Annarah had been teaching him to read and write. He turned the slate towards Caina.

  “You returned,” it read. “You thought death awaited you.”

  “It did,” said Caina, remembering her last conversation with Azaces before leaving Istarinmul. “The Exile saved me.”

  Azaces looked at Kylon, bowed, and scribbled something new upon the slate.

  “This is well,” it read. “The Balarigar has returned. The time for great deeds is now.”

  “I hope so,” said Caina in a quiet voice.

  “Now that we have all arrived,” said Nasser, stepping around the table, “we can attend to business.”

  “Were you able to find a ship?” said Caina.

  “Unfortunately, no,” said Laertes. “Every ship we could find in the Cyrican harbor has been hired up. It seems the Empire has been hiring everything that floats in the Cyrican sea to bring grain from Cyrica. Since there are no Umbarian ships in the Cyrican sea, it’s easy, safe work. None of them would break their contracts for a trip to Catekharon.”

  “Catekharon?” said Claudia, wrinkling her nose. “Why would you want to go back there?” Caina could not fault her reaction. Neither of them had enjoyed their visit to Catekharon.

  “We found something Callatas needs for the Apotheosis,” said Caina. She and Nasser had decided not to tell anyone else about the relics who did not already know. What they did not know could not be wrung from them by torture. “We’re taking it to Catekharon and giving it to the Scholae. Once it’s in the Tower of Study, not even Callatas will be able to get his hands upon it.”

  “A good plan,” said Claudia. “The Sages are indolent and foolish, but I don’t think even Callatas could break into the Tower of Study.”

  “What about the Alqaarin harbor?” said Caina. “We could hire a ship there, pay the toll to pass through the Starfall Straits, and sail to Catekharon.”

  “I checked,” said Nasser. “Unfortunately, there were no ships available in the Alqaarin harbor. All were already taking on cargoes.”

  “For the gods’ sake,” muttered Caina. “A thousand ships come to Istarinmul a month, and the first time in two years that I need one they’re all hired out.”

  “You may have used up all your good fortune at Rumarah,” said Morgant.

  Again Caina remembered the Huntress’s sword erupting from her chest, the pain exploding through her, and she did her very best not to shudder. She didn’t want to show weakness in front of the others, and especially not Morgant.

  Which was probably why Morgant had said it.

  “Maybe,” said Caina. “I suppose we’re going to find out. Until we can hire a ship, we should focus upon whatever Cassander is planning.”

  “What have you learned?” said Martin.

  “We walked past Fariz Terdagan’s palace on our way here,” said Caina. “It’s not a large place, but there are a lot of wards around it, and I think the Umbarian magi were casting additional spells inside.”

  “What manner of spells?” said Annarah.

  “Warding spells,” said Caina. “Both to shield from arcane observation, and to sound an alert should any intruders enter the gate. I think one of them was a summoning spell as well.”

  “Summoning?” said Martin. He looked at Nasser. “Could Cassander be attempting to summon something?”

  “Perhaps,” said Nasser. “That is what we hope to discover.”

  “I think,” said Caina, “that we can break into the palace and take the Umbarians within unawares. The palace grounds have only one gate. If we overcome the gate guards, hold the gate, and send the Imperial Guards into the palace, we can make sure no one escapes to warn the other Umbarians or Cassander himself.”

  “A good plan,” said Morgant. “Just how are we going to accomplish that?”

  “I can get past the wards,” said Caina.

  “How?” said Claudia.

  Caina gave her a tight smile. “For the same reason that your spells can’t detect me any longer. Once I open the gate, the valikon will collapse the warding spell, and the Imperial Guards can storm the palace. Then we shall take a leisurely look around and figure out what Cassander is planning to do.”

  “What if there are Umbarian magi?” said Laertes.

  “The Words of Lore can turn aside their spells,” said Annarah, “and shield us from harm.”

  “And this,” said Kylon, tapping the hilt of the valikon, “can penetrate their wards, if they refuse to surrender.”

  “We should take prisoners if it all possible,” said Martin. “Examining their work might tell us much, but interrogating prisoners will tell us much more.”

  “Agreed,” said Nasser.

  “We will strike tomorrow night,” said Martin. “The Imperial Guards are ready. I shall leave half the century to guard our embassy, and bring the other half to Fariz’s palace. Nasser has shown us a route through the sewers, and the Guards and I can move in secret through the tunnels.”

  “I must come with you,” said Claudia.

  “That is a very bad idea,” said Martin. “You should stay at the mansion.”

  “I agree with Lord Martin,” said Caina.

  “With respect, Lady Claudia,” said Nasser, “in your condition it would be unwise to enter a battlefield. Giving birth upon a battlefield sounds poetic, but I imagine it would be rather less pleasant in reality.”

  “You are correct,” said Claudia, “but this entire city is about to become a battlefield. There is no safe place here. You might need my spells.”

  “Annarah will be going with us,” said Martin.

  “Annarah is one sorceress,” said Claudia. “How many magi might the Umbarians have at Fariz’s palace? Everyone is needed.”

  “Claudia,” said Caina. “This is madness.”

  “It is,” said Claudia, “But you understand madness, don’t you?”

  Caina said nothing. She did understand. Claudia’s husband was going into battle, and it was painful to stay behind and do nothing. But it was just as hard to go into battle with a loved one. She had gone into the netherworld with Corvalis on the day of the golden dead, and only Caina had returned.

  “Why not?” said Caina at last. “I suppose you’re right. We need all the help we can find.”

  The rest of the planning went quickly. Once they finished, Claudia and Martin left, as did Nerina, Malcolm, and Azaces.

  “What are we going to do with the Staff and the Seal?” said Caina. “We can’t take them with us.”

  “Nor can we leave them behind,” said Nasser. “There is no
safe place in Istarinmul to hide them. Lady Claudia has a point. She may as well come with us, because she is no safer with we leave her behind.”

  “A pregnant woman?” said Morgant, his voice sour. “Even by the standards of our usual plans, this is reckless.”

  “Claudia’s right,” said Caina. “We might need her help. We don’t know what’s in that palace, and if Cassander is about to unleash some titanic spell upon Istarinmul, she’s no safer in the mansion.”

  Depending upon what Cassander planned, there might not be any safe place left in the world. If he succeeded, if he allowed the Umbarian fleet through the Straits, then the Empire would fall.

  Unless Caina and her friends stopped him.

  The last time Caina had faced Cassander, it had not gone well.

  Yet again the memory of Kalgri’s sword flickered through her thoughts.

  Caina didn’t know if she could prevail against Cassander, but she was going to find out.

  writChapter 18: Rift Echo

  Kylon watched as Caina prepared herself.

  They had spent the day watching Fariz Terdagan’s palace from concealment, with Caina using the senses of the valikarion to watch the unfolding spells around the palace, while Kylon used the sorcery of water to monitor those entering and leaving the grounds. They had counted nearly thirty Adamant Guards entering the palace, along with a number of men Kylon suspected were Silent Hunters. An Umbarian magus accompanied them, a woman with a cold expression on her sharp features, clad in the black leather greatcoat favored by the Umbarian magi. Likely the coat had been enspelled to make it as strong as steel.

  As soon as the Umbarians entered the palace, they vanished from Kylon’s arcane senses. Caina said that warding spells sheathed the palace like armor. The spells were neither powerful nor complex, but it was far easier to block a divinatory spell than to work one.

  Yet his eyes told him that a strong force awaited them. Thirty Adamant Guards were a formidable force, to say nothing of the Silent Hunters and the spells of the Umbarian magi. Yet Kylon and the others had their own advantages. They had Kylon’s skills and the power of the valikon slung over his shoulder. They had the spells of Annarah and Claudia, the deadly skill of Morgant the Razor, the cleverness of Nasser Glasshand. They had Caina’s new valikarion senses.