Ghost in the Maze

by Moeller, Jonathan

  “It will be dangerous,” said Caina, “and we shall almost certainly be killed.”

  Nasser snorted. “Any more dangerous than fleeing into the netherworld?”

  That was an excellent point.

  “So be it,” said Caina. “If you are willing to swear the necessary oaths, both you and Azaces, then you shall join the Ghost circle of Istarinmul.”

  “Good,” said Nerina. She smiled. “Considering that we are spies, I suspect you shall have no shortage of fascinating equations for me to solve.”

  “Most likely,” said Caina. She looked at Nasser. “And you? Shall you join the Ghosts?”

  He grinned. “I serve another master, alas.”

  “And who is that?” said Caina.

  “You have your secrets,” said Nasser, “I have mine, and together those secrets protect us. Is that not enough?”

  “For now,” said Caina. “A day might come when it is not.”

  “I know. But for now I am most interested in working together,” said Nasser, “to undermine the Grand Master and stop the Apotheosis. You have been a most effective ally.”

  “And you,” said Caina. “Callatas needs the Seal, the Staff, and a steady supply of slaves to create wraithblood and work the Apotheosis. I suggest we start by seeking the Seal and the Staff…but also by disrupting the supply of slaves to Istarinmul.”

  “And if his allies,” said Nasser, “among the cowled masters are threatened with penury, they shall be rather less likely to support him.”

  Caina nodded. “I agree.”

  “So,” said Nasser. “What did you have in mind?”

  She looked around the room. Agabyzus was right. Caina could not continue on alone. Sooner or later she would misstep and die, and there would be no one left to stop Callatas. But with allies, she had a far greater chance of success.

  And even if she died, someone would be left to carry on the fight.

  “This is what I suggest,” said Caina, and they started plotting the downfall of Grand Master Callatas.

  Epilogue

  “Balarigar!” screamed the nagataaru that had been inside Tarqaz’s head. “Balarigar, Balarigar, Balarigar!”

  Callatas, Grand Master of the College of Alchemists, let out an annoyed hiss.

  The voices in his head had told him this wasn’t going to work.

  A nagataaru bound within a living mortal saw through the mortal’s eyes and heard through his ears. Unfortunately, when the mortal was killed, the psychic shock scrambled the nagataaru’s recent memories, and frequently the spirit could not remember the circumstances of its host’s death.

  “Balarigar!” shrieked the nagataaru, shadow and purple flame billowing against the boundaries of the elaborate warding sigils upon the floor of Callatas’s summoning chamber. “Balarigar!”

  Though the creature could recall a few pertinent details.

  The nagataaru that had been bound within Ricimer had been much the same, too, bellowing over and over that the Balarigar had come.

  A myth. A myth of the damned Szaldic slaves, and a fraud and a lie perpetrated by the Ghosts. Were even spirits that gullible?

  Callatas dismissed the nagataaru to the netherworld and stalked from the chamber, moving back into the Maze proper. The poison mist of the transmutation spell swirled around him, filling his lungs, but did him no harm.

  A gift of the nagataaru.

  The voices whispered inside his head, suggesting plans.

  He returned to his library. The Elixir Restorata had been stolen, which was inconvenient, but hardly crippling. Callatas had transcended death and illness years ago, had reached heights of sorcery that the other Master Alchemists could only dream of. Yet the Elixir would have been a useful tool to ensure the loyalty of his allies. More than once he had hired the Kindred to administer a slow-acting poison to the son or daughter of an enemy, only for Callatas to offer a vial of Elixir Restorata in exchange for support.

  The loss of Annarah’s journal was far more worrying, along with the maps from his main laboratory.

  The prospect that the Ghosts might know about the Seal and the Staff was disturbing. The thought that they might have allied with that damned fool Glasshand was worse. Callatas had been trying to kill Glasshand for years, but the wretch had always eluded him. If Glasshand shared what he knew with the Ghosts, that would be dangerous.

  Callatas had spent too long preparing to create a new and better humanity to have his plans disrupted now. And only a fool underestimated the Ghosts.

  Anburj, even clever, deadly Anburj, had learned that the hard way.

  It was time to employ extreme measures.

  He sensed the approach of the one he had summoned.

  Another gift of the nagataaru.

  Callatas sighed and waited for his guest to arrive.

  A moment later she strode into the library. She looked unremarkable. An Istarish woman in her middle thirties, with long dark hair, dark eyes, and bronze-colored skin. She wore an olive-colored dress and headscarf, a simple sheathed dagger at her belt. The woman looked little different than thousands of others that dwelled in Istarinmul.

  Though Callatas glimpsed the faint hints of madness in her dark eyes.

  That, and he sensed the power that waited within her.

  For a moment they stared at each other.

  She spoke first. “This miserable little dungeon hasn’t changed much, has it?”

  “Huntress. You have a new face,” said Callatas.

  “I’ve been busy,” said the woman. “Those rebels who rule the eastern Empire, those renegade Ashbringers? Have you heard of them? Or have you been too busy with your little bottles of bubbling slime?”

  “I know of them,” said Callatas, concealing his annoyance at her impudence. The Umbarian Order, as the rebels called themselves, had in fact made overtures, seeking the aid of Istarinmul against the Empire. If they were useful, Callatas would turn them into his tools, and if they opposed him, he would destroy them.

  “They hired me to dispose of some Kyracian archon and his wife,” said the woman. She grinned, her eyes glittering. “They put up quite a fight, and wounded me rather severely. But the Umbarians paid quite well for it.”

  “And what did you do with the money?” said Callatas.

  “I dumped it into the sea, of course, just to see the expressions on their faces,” she said. “After that, I received your summons, so I came.” She smiled, a brilliant, radiant smiled belied by the glittering madness in her eyes. “Who shall I kill for you, Father?”

  “I,” said Callatas, irritated that she could still annoy him after all these decades, “am not your father.”

  She shrugged. “But you are the father of what I became. And the Voice within me calls the spirit within you its father, so why should I not?”

  “You should not,” said Callatas, “give the nagataaru names. They do not require them.”

  “But it pleases me to give them,” said the woman. Her mad smile widened. “Perhaps I shall give the nagataaru within you a name. Something cute, perhaps? Something that rhymes?”

  For a brief moment, Callatas wished he had killed her one hundred and sixty years ago. She had been one of his first successful experiments. Yet while she was no threat to him, he had never been able to fully control her, and her constant mockery was an unceasing annoyance.

  Still, she had her uses.

  She had killed many of his enemies over the decades.

  “What shall I call you now?” said Callatas, forcing his voice to calm.

  “Kalgri,” she said. “I like the name.”

  “Very well, Kalgri,” said Callatas. “I need you to kill someone.”

  “I have already been contracted to kill an emir,” said Kalgri.

  “Who?” said Callatas. He hoped she wasn’t going to kill one of his useful allies.

  “Tanzir Shahan, emir of the Vale of Fallen Stars,” said Kalgri. “He’s irritated the Slavers’ Brotherhood, the fat fool, and they want him dead.”r />
  Callatas started to laugh.

  “What?” said Kalgri, her face twisting with fury. Despite her barbed tongue, she could never abide mockery. “Do not laugh at me, Father.”

  “I am not laughing at you,” said Callatas, “merely at the turn of fate. The man I want you to kill is called the Balarigar…who, according to the Teskilati, saved the life of Tanzir Shahan in Malarae.”

  “Ah,” said Kalgri. “I see. Oh, yes. I’ve heard of the Balarigar. They say he is the avenger of the gods, come to throw down corrupt sorcerers and free the slaves.”

  “Nonsense,” said Callatas. “The Balarigar is simply an exceptionally lucky Ghost nightfighter with a flair for theatricality and a bag of tricks. Find him, kill him, and kill any of his allies. Be careful. He has proven himself dangerous.”

  “Father, Father,” said Kalgri with a laugh. “You doubt me so? You ought to give me tasks more often. Tell me, when I kill the Balarigar, would you like his head pickled, or delivered to you on a silver platter with an apple stuffed in the mouth?”

  She had done both in the past.

  “Just kill him,” said Callatas, trying to keep his calm.

  Kalgri walked from the library without another word.

  As much as he detested her, Callatas was pleased. The Apotheosis would not be stopped. The Balarigar and his allies would perish.

  For the woman called the Red Huntress never let her prey escape.

  THE END

  Thank you for reading GHOST IN THE MAZE. Look for Caina's next adventure, GHOST IN THE HUNT, to appear in 2014. If you liked the book, please consider leaving a review at your ebook site of choice. To receive immediate notification of new releases, sign up for my newsletter, or watch for news on my Facebook page.

  Other books by the author

  The Demonsouled Saga

  MAZAEL CRAVENLOCK is a wandering knight, fearless in battle and masterful with a sword.

  Yet he has a dark secret. He is Demonsouled, the son of the ancient and cruel Old Demon, and his tainted blood grants him superhuman strength and speed. Yet with the power comes terrible, inhuman rage, and Mazael must struggle to keep the fury from devouring him.

  But he dare not turn aside from the strength of his blood, for he will need it to face terrible foes.

  The priests of the San-keth plot and scheme in the shadows, pulling lords and kingdoms upon their strings. The serpent priests desire to overthrow the realms of men and enslave humanity. Unless Mazael stops them, they shall force all nations to bow before the serpent god.

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  Unless Mazael can stop him.

  Read Demonsouled for free. Mazael's adventures continue in Soul of Tyrants, Soul of Serpents, Soul of Dragons, Soul of Sorcery, Soul of Skulls, and Soul of Swords, along with the short stories The Wandering Knight, The Tournament Knight, and The Dragon's Shadow. Get the first three books bundled together in Demonsouled Omnibus One.

  The Ghosts Series

  Once CAINA AMALAS was the shy daughter of a minor nobleman, content to spend her days in her father’s library.

  Then sorcery and murder and her mother’s treachery tore her life apart.

  Now she is a nightfighter of the Ghosts, an elite agent of the spies and assassins of the Emperor of Nighmar. She is a master of disguise and infiltration, of stealth and the shadows.

  And she will need all those skills to defend the Empire and stay alive.

  Corrupt lords scheme and plot in the shadows, desiring to pull down the Emperor and rule the Empire for their own profit and glory. Slave traders lurk on the fringes of the Empire, ready to seize unwary commoners and sell them into servitude in distant lands. Yet both slave traders and cruel lords must beware the Ghosts.

  The Magisterium, the Imperial brotherhood of sorcerers, believe themselves the rightful masters of the Empire. With their arcane sciences, they plan to overthrow the Empire and enslave the commoners, ruling all of mankind for their own benefit. Only the Ghosts stand in the path of their sinister plans.

  And the Moroaica, the ancient sorceress of legend and terror, waits in the shadows, preparing to launch a war upon the gods themselves. She will make the gods pay for the suffering of mankind...even if she must destroy the world to do it.

  Caina Amalas of the Ghosts opposes these mighty enemies, but the cost might be more than she can bear.

  Read Child of the Ghosts for free. Caina's adventures continue in Ghost in the Flames, Ghost in the Blood, Ghost in the Storm, Ghost in the Stone, Ghost in the Forge, Ghost in the Ashes, Ghost in the Mask, and Ghost in the Surge, along with the short stories Ghost Aria, Ghost Claws, Ghost Omens, The Fall of Kyrace, Ghost Thorns, Ghost Undying and Ghost Dagger. Get the first three books bundled together in The Ghosts Omnibus One.

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  Caina Amalas was a nightfighter of the Ghosts, the spies and assassins of the Emperor of Nighmar, and through her boldness and cunning saved the Empire and the world from sorcerous annihilation.

  But the victory cost her everything.

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  Read Ghost in the Cowl and Ghost in the Maze, along with the short stories Ghost Sword and Ghost Price.

  The Third Soul

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  Those who fail the Testing are never seen again.

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  If Rachaelis survives the Testing, she will face even more dangerous foes. The demons of the astral world watch the world of mortal men, desiring to rule it for themselves.

  And some Adepts of the Conclave are eager to help them.

  Read The Testing for free. Rachelis's trials continue in The Assassins, The Blood Shaman, The High Demon, The Burning Child, The Outlaw Adept, The Black Paladin, and The Tomb of Baligant. Read the entire series in The Third Soul Omnibus One and The Third Soul Omnibus Two.

  The Frostborn Series

  A thousand years ago, the last grandson of Arthur Pendragon led the survivors of Britain through a magical gate to a new world, a world of magic and high elves, of orcs and kobolds and stranger, darker creatures. Now the descendants of the exiles rule a mighty kingdom, peaceful and prosperous under the rule of the High King.

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/>   For she alone holds the secret that can save the world…or destroy it utterly.

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  Read Frostborn: The First Quest, followed by Frostborn: The Gray Knight, Frostborn: The Eightfold Knife, Frostborn: The Undying Wizard, and Frostborn: The Master Thief along with the short stories The Orc's Tale, The Mage's Tale, and The Thief's Tale .

  The Tower of Endless Worlds

  THOMAS WYCLIFFE just wants to finish his dissertation in peace and quiet. So when a man in a black robe appears in his closet, claiming to be the last of the Warlocks, Wycliffe figures it is a bad joke.

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  SIMON WESTER needs a job. Badly. So when a rich and powerful Senator offers him employment, he jumps at the chance. Sure, Simon expects to find some corruption, some shady deals.

  He doesn't expect to find black magic.

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  By daring the horrors of the Tower of Endless Worlds…

  Read The Tower of Endless Worlds for free. The saga of the Tower continues in A Knight of the Sacred Blade, A Wizard of the White Council, and The Destroyer of Worlds.

  About the Author

  Standing over six feet tall, Jonathan Moeller has the piercing blue eyes of a Conan of Cimmeria, the bronze-colored hair a Visigothic warrior-king, and the stern visage of a captain of men, none of which are useful in his career as a computer repairman, alas.