And he would get to destroy Istarinmul. This miserable, wretched, stinking city of useless vermin would burn, would sink into the dust of history. How he hated this place! How he yearned to see it all in flames.
His newfound bloodlust sang within him. He felt as eager with anticipation as he had before the first time he had lain with a woman. Cassander had killed before, killed since his change in Rumarah.
But he had never killed so many people at once.
Cassander supposed few people in history had ever killed so many at once.
But none of that would happen if he made an error, so he checked and rechecked the maze of wards and spells binding the Throne and linking it to the rift echoes. He found no flaw with his work, and none with the spells of the lesser magi.
Cassander was ready. When the spell started, of course, Callatas and the Alchemists would try to stop it. They would rush to the Umbarian embassy, and by the time they realized their error, it would be too late. If they tried to attack the fortified dock, he had enough Adamant Guards to repulse any assault. He had taken other preparations as well, and when the spell began, those preparations would unleash chaos throughout the city, and his enemies might be too paralyzed to act.
By the time they recovered, he would have called the ifriti, and Istarinmul would be ashes.
Only one thing troubled him.
Where the hell had the Huntress gone?
Her disappearance did not surprise him. Kalgri came and went as she pleased, rather like a large, murderous cat. Yet he could not imagine why she had left. She knew what he intended, and she knew that Istarinmul would burn. If she was caught outside the wards of the Brotherhood’s compound, she would burn with the rest of them. Perhaps she had gone to warn Callatas…but if she had, Callatas would have counterattacked by now.
Perhaps she had gone to find a better view of the coming firestorm.
It didn’t matter. The spells were ready, and the time had come.
Cassander raised his right hand, the crimson bloodcrystal on the back of his black gauntlet flashing with a harsh glow, and began a spell. Flames snarled around his armored fingers, and the three rings of sigils encircling the Throne began to burn as well. The fire imprisoned with the Throne flared, glowing brighter through the black obsidian, and it writhed in time to the flames dancing around Cassander’s armored hand. For a quarter hour he cast the spell, feeding power into the maze of spells around the Throne. It grew hot and stuffy in the solar, the glow of the Throne filling the chamber with hellish light. The windows of the tower would shine like a beacon in the night, but that didn’t matter.
Soon the good people of Istarinmul would have something else to occupy their attention.
Cassander finished his spell, and a shaft of fire burst from his gauntlet to strike the Throne.
###
Caina took a step back, eyeing the rift echo.
It burned brighter, the golden fire starting to flicker madly. A dull howling noise came from the rift, like the roar of the blast furnaces she had seen in Ark’s foundry in Malarae. Currents of power flowed through the rift echo and into it, and Caina thought of a ball rolling down a curved chute, spinning faster and faster until it reached the bottom.
She suspected it would be a good idea to be as far away from the rift echo as possible when the power reached its climax.
“We have to get out here,” said Caina.
“I concur completely,” said Nasser.
“Guards!” shouted Martin. “Withdraw! Back to the doors! Back to the…”
“Wait!” shouted Caina, her mind racing as she thought of Agabyzus’s map of Istarinmul. The palace’s doors faced west, which would put them inside the massive circle Cassander planned to draw across Istarinmul. Caina had a strong suspicion that getting trapped within the activated circle would be unwise. “Not that way. Go east. If we go west, we’ll be stuck inside the circle.”
Martin did not hesitate. “Centurion! Recall the men at the gate.” He pointed to a door on the far side of the grand hall. “That door. Move! Move!”
The Imperial Guards hastened past the rift, Annarah helping Claudia along. The Guards who had been watching the gate at the outer wall sprinted into the palace. They gaped a little at the rift echo, but they were too well-disciplined to stop and kept running. Nasser, Laertes, Morgant, Nerina, and Malcolm came after, and Kylon brought up the back, still pushing Maria Nicephorus along.
“You should kill her,” said Morgant as the Imperial Guards filed through the narrow door. The howling roar from the rift echo grew louder. “If you or the Kyracian don’t want to do it, fine. But she knows too much to leave alive.”
Morgant’s grim logic rang true. Yet Caina didn’t want to murder the woman in cold blood. The part of Caina’s mind that often agreed with Morgant’s grim logic pointed out that Maria had been perfectly willing to murder everyone in Istarinmul in cold blood, and would help Cassander finish his plan if she escaped.
“Go…” she stared to say, and then the rift blazed with golden fire.
“Run!” said Kylon, and he released Maria, sprinting to Caina’s side.
Morgant groaned. “Idiot! I…”
Maria laughed, raising her gauntlet as it began to burn with pyromantic fire. “Fools! Istarinmul shall burn, and you will be the first!”
“No,” said Kylon. “We won’t.” His voice was confident, his expression hard. “You really should run.”
Maria sneered and started to cast a spell, and then the rift exploded. A sheet of golden fire, nearly a hundred feet tall, erupted from either side of the rift echo, curving through the grand hall. The sheet of fire ripped through the walls and the domed ceiling, shattering the heavy stone as if it was brittle ice.
The wall of flame tore through Maria, incinerating her in an instant. Caina had the briefest glimpse of Maria’s skeleton as her flesh burned away, and then the smoking remnants of her black gauntlet bounced across the floor.
The palace groaned as the dome started to collapse, and pieces of stone fell into the wall of fire, only to crumble into ash. The wall of flame had slashed through the palace like a giant knife, and Caina realized the entire thing was about to collapse.
“Go!” she shouted, and she raced for the door, Kylon and Morgant following her. They ran through a narrow slaves’ corridor, across the kitchens, and then burst into the palace gardens just as the building gave one final groan and collapsed into splintered white rubble.
The curved wall of fire stretched away in either direction as far as Caina could see, and it had smashed its way through palaces and buildings without stopping. The circle of rift echoes had become a single massive circle of golden flame, sealing off the core of Istarinmul from the rest of the city.
###
Cassander watched the circle of golden fire blaze into existence in the heart of Istarinmul.
It appeared as if drawn by a giant hand, leaping from rift echo to rift echo. The wall of golden fire that marked that circle tore through stone and wood and brick and adobe with equal ease. Flames crackled at the edges of the circle as the discharge of sorcerous force ignited anything flammable in its path. The fires alone would do considerable damage to the city.
A dull rumble came to his ears as the wall of golden fire stabbed into the Crows’ Tower, the citadel that housed the headquarters of both the watchmen and the Teskilati in the heart of the Tower Quarter. The masters of the Teskilati, Cassander knew, would have met to discuss their plans if the Umbarian embassy refused to leave the city.
He hadn’t originally planned for the circle to pass through the Crows’ Tower, but once he had realized that it would, there was no reason to stop it.
In the fiery gloom, he saw a plume of dust and smoke rising from the wreckage of the Crows’ Tower, and he smiled at the thought of all the Teskilati and watchmen who had just died in the collapse.
The huge circle of golden fire filled the center of Istarinmul, throbbing and snarling with tremendous power drawn from the rif
t echoes. Anyone who attempted to cross it would find themselves incinerated in the space of a heartbeat. It would not last long, and would soon collapse beneath the weight of its own immense power.
But it would last long enough for what Cassander needed, and for a short time, the circle could be used to draw even more power to itself.
He turned to face the Throne and began another spell, drawing upon more and more pyromantic force.
###
Kylon looked at the burning rubble of Fariz Terdagan’s palace, stunned by the destructive fury that Cassander had unleashed. The curved wall of golden fire rose from the rubble, a hundred feet tall, stretching before him in either direction as far as he could see.
“Gods,” said Martin, stunned. “I never knew Cassander could wield that kind of power.”
“He can’t,” said Caina. “It’s not his power. It’s like he’s starting an avalanche. He doesn’t need to control it. All he needs is to get out of its way.” She turned to Martin. “Lord Martin, we have to get to the Umbarian embassy as quickly as possible. Our only chance of stopping this is to kill Cassander before he can finish his spells.”
“Agreed,” said Martin. “Tylas, we’re moving out.” He rubbed at his face beneath the black helmet. “With the circle, we can’t go there directly. We’ll have to cut through the Masters’ Quarter, and then the Saddaic Quarter and the Alqaarin Bazaar.”
“I counsel haste, Lord Martin,” said Nasser. “I suspect it will not be long before Cassander finishes his spell.”
“I agree,” said Martin.
Kylon looked towards the wall encircling the ruined palace, wondering how long it would take for the Imperial Guards to go over it. Perhaps he and Caina ought to race on ahead and let the others catch up. Perhaps they could break into the Umbarians’ mansion and take Cassander unawares.
But his fears were unfounded. The curtain of flame had shattered the wall, and it would be no challenge for even a woman in the final month of pregnancy to climb through the rubble. And Claudia’s help had been invaluable against the ifrit. If the Umbarian magi conjured more such elementals…
A surge of arcane power cut off his line of thought. It was vast beyond imagination, as if he were standing in an invisible wind of fire. Kylon wondered how Cassander could possibly control such power, and then realized that Caina had been right. Cassander was like a clever commander arranging for an avalanche to bury the enemy army. The Umbarian ambassador could not control the avalanche.
He need only trigger it.
Caina looked at the sky, and Kylon followed her gaze.
A ribbon of golden fire twisted in the darkness over the circle, just as the Moroaica had opened her rift over the Pyramid of Storm on the day of the golden dead.
“It’s beginning,” said Caina.
Then a voice thundered from the rift, booming like the words of a god.
###
Cassander finished his spell and turned from the Throne, looking through the solar windows.
The rift was opening.
He laughed aloud, watching the ribbon of golden fire crawl across the darkness. For that had been the entire purpose of the circle, the function of the rift echoes. The day of the golden dead had left weaknesses in the wall between the material world and the netherworld. By channeling the power of the rift echoes into a recursive loop, by feeding the power into itself, Cassander had generated enough arcane force to rip open the rift once more.
And when the rift was open, the Throne of Corazain would summon countless ifriti to descend upon Istarinmul in a firestorm.
All he need do was wait until the rift opened, and the Throne could begin its summoning. But there was one last thing Cassander could do to guarantee his security until the victory was complete, one final gesture of spite to make against his enemies.
It was a simple matter to alter the rift slightly, to make it vibrate in time with his voice. Cassander worked the spell, stepped to the window, and started to speak.
“Citizens of Istarinmul!” said Cassander, and his voice roared down from the rift. “Hear me! I, Cassander Nilas, magus and ambassador of the Umbarian Order, today decree your execution! For your nation has betrayed the Umbarian Order, and therefore earned death. Look to the skies, and see your fate! Men of Istarinmul, you shall burn. You shall see your wives burn in front of you. You shall hear your children scream as the flames consume them, and nothing you do will save them.”
If he listened, he thought he could hear the distant roar of riots starting across Istarinmul. That was just as well. The chaos in the streets would slow down anyone trying to stop him, and he had sent some of his servants to kill anyone they found in the streets.
There was one last amphora of oil to throw upon the bonfire.
“Rejoice, men of Istarinmul!” said Cassander. “For your own rulers have acquiesced to your fate. Both Grand Wazir Erghulan Amirasku and Grand Master Callatas have joined the Umbarian Order, and have consented to your destruction. To punish Istarinmul for its impertinence and rebellion, they have surrendered you to the fury of the Umbarian Order. Think well upon your sins, men of Istarinmul, for the fire comes to claim you!”
He ended the spell, the echoes of his words fading, and this time he could indeed hear the sound of screaming as the panic and the riots began.
Very soon, he would insure victory for the Order over the Emperor…and he would have the distinct pleasure of seeing this wretched city and its pathetic people burn.
Cassander smiled and watch the rift widen across the sky.
###
Fury radiated through Caina as the echoes of Cassander’s final taunt faded.
If she found him, she vowed, he would regret this.
Mixed with the fury came guilt. This was her fault. If only she had died in Rumarah, perhaps she could have taken Cassander with her and not brought this hideous catastrophe upon Istarinmul…
Caina shoved aside the thought. It wasn’t helpful. If they did not act now, she could make an accounting of her failures before the gods themselves soon enough.
“Lord Martin,” said Caina. “We’re going to the Umbarian embassy as fast as we can. We’ll try to break in and stop Cassander. Once you arrive…do as you think best. I can offer no other counsel.”
Martin nodded. “We shall be right behind you.”
Caina nodded and turned back to Kylon. Nasser and Laertes approached, weapons in hand, as did Morgant and Annarah. She sent Nerina and Malcolm and Azaces back to guard Claudia. Claudia’s banishment spells were their best hope for dealing with any remaining elementals.
“Our cause is just, as few causes have ever been,” said Annarah, her pyrikon staff glimmering with white fire. “The Divine will aid us.”
Caina didn’t know if any gods cared what would happen here tonight.
But gods or no gods, she would not let Cassander committ this hideous crime without a fight.
“Come on,” said Caina, and she clambered over the ruined wall and broke into a run, the others following.
###
Chaos ruled Istarinmul’s streets, but Kalgri moved through it like a wolf through sheep.
The sheep were panicking.
Cassander’s pompous little speech had made sure of that. People choked the streets, fleeing towards the gates, the harbor, desperate to get away from the impending destruction in the sky. Fighting had broken out in several bazaars, and some of the more enterprising souls had taken the opportunity to go on a looting spree. In places both men and women had fallen to the ground, weeping with fear, and some were on their knees, imploring the Living Flame or whatever god they worshipped to save them.
The fear and the horror washed over Kalgri, and she savored it like fine wine. Again she wondered what it would be like to feel an entire city die at once, and for a moment she almost returned to Cassander.
No. Cassander could give her the death of a city.
Kotuluk Iblis and the nagataaru could give her the death of a world.
And
the first step to kill the world was to find Caina Amalas.
Kalgri kept running, following the needle of the compass.
Chapter 20: Creatures Of Sorcery
Caina sprinted through the narrow alleys of the Alqaarin Quarter as Istarinmul fell apart around her.
Mobs filled the streets, surging for the gates and the harbors. Some of them clutched bags of possessions, while other carried wailing children. Caina wondered if they could get far enough away from the city before the rift opened, or if Cassander’s ifriti would consume the surrounding countryside. Certainly they would incinerate any ships still caught in the harbor.
Chaos ruled the city. Caina saw slaves sprint away from their masters, leaving their sedan chairs in the street. In places men fought over wagons of possessions. Caina headed into the alleys, avoiding the main streets. The streets were choked, and they could move quicker through the alleyways. Though predators lurked in the alleys, thieves and fleeing slaves looking for the opportunity to relieve the fleeing citizens of Istarinmul of their possessions.
One look at the fire crackling up and down Annarah’s staff usually persuaded them to seek victims elsewhere.
Caina ran into a small courtyard behind two houses and skidded to an alarmed stop.
A dozen corpses lay upon the ground. It was night, but thanks to the hellish light of the golden rift, she had no trouble seeing them. The dead men wore the gray tunics of common slaves, the rough cloth wet with blood. Caina looked around, seeking for signs of their attackers, but the courtyard was deserted.
The others fanned around her, weapons in hand.
“Those wounds are recent,” said Kylon. “They haven’t been dead for more than ten minutes.”
“Thieves, most likely,” said Laertes. “I’ve seen this before when I was in the Legion. When a city is about to fall, its people go mad and scramble for safety.”
Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7) Page 30