Child of the Ghosts

by Jonathan Moeller

  Caina hurried up the stairs, cloak flowing behind her. The stairs opened into a narrow upstairs hallway, with two doors on the left and one on the right. She had spied out Vanio’s townhouse yesterday, and knew that the left doors opened into the study and the solar, while the right door lead to Vanio’s bedchamber.

  The burnt smell was very strong up here, almost overpowering. The air almost tasted of it, even through her mask. No wonder the watchmen had complained. Caina crossed the hall, listened at the study door for a moment, and swung it open.

  The study shared the townhouse’s ostentatious opulence. The shelves held the sort of works an educated man was expected to own; histories of the Nighmarian Empire, lives of the Emperors, treatises on oratory and virtue. A thin layer of dust covered most of the books, except for a trio of weighty histories in the corner. She pushed aside the books, and saw the gleam of a safe built into the wall.

  Caina grinned, produced her tools, and got to work. The safe, like the lock on the front door, was excellent work, but Caina had seen better. After a short time, she tugged and the door swung open. Only one thing lay in the safe, a battered merchant’s ledger, worn with much use. Caina took the ledger, carried it to the window, and flipped through the pages.

  Her mouth tightened into a hard line. The ledger detailed Vanio’s inventory of slaves. It seemed that he specialized in buying children at cut-rate prices from impoverished peasant farmers, and selling them at an enormous profit to the Carthian and Alqaarin merchants who dealt in such things. He also turned a substantial profit dealing in artworks, old Saddai and Kyracian artifacts and the like, but the bulk of his money came from selling children. Caina closed the ledger, her hand twitching towards the knives in her belt. A short detour on her way out, a quick slash of her knife, and the villainous scum would die choking in his own blood…

  No. Not yet. Halfdan had only wanted evidence, not blood. And the Emperor had declared slaving a crime against the Empire, and the penalty for a crime against the Empire was worse than anything Caina had time to inflict upon Vanio now. She closed the safe, replaced the books, tucked the ledger under her arm, and made for the door.

  She stepped into the hallway just in time to see the watchmen come up the stairs.

  Caina froze in the doorway. For a moment she thought the watchmen wouldn’t see her. They were arguing about the smell again, and none of them even glanced towards the study door.

  “I’m telling you,” said the man in the lead, “that damned smell is worse! Where the hell is that coming from?” He looked around, glancing at the study door.

  His eyes got wide.

  “Gods!” he said, fumbling for his sword, “what the hell is…”

  Caina stepped forward and flung a knife, her foot forward, her arm thrown back, her back arched. Her entire body snapped like a bowstring. The knife hurtled forward and buried itself in the man’s throat. He fell to his knees, gagging. The other two watchmen leapt past the fallen man, yanking their swords from their scabbards. Caina threw the heavy ledger. It caught the older man in the face, and he stumbled back with a curse, bouncing off the door to Vanio’s bedchamber.

  The last man ran at her, his sword a silvery blur.

  Caina stepped back and yanked the daggers from her boots. She did not want to take the man in a fair fight. She had trained with short blades for years, along with the open-handed fighting style favored by the Ghosts. She was quick and agile, but she was not a large woman, and she simply did not have the raw strength to fight toe-to-toe with most men.

  No matter. She had learned long ago that to fight fair was to lose.

  The sword came towards her head, and Caina caught it in a cross-parry between her daggers, her arms straining with the effort. Her left foot lashed out and slammed hard into the man’s knee. He gasped with pain, leaning forward, and Caina disengaged and whirled to the side. The watchman stumbled forward, and as he did Caina slashed with her right hand. The blade opened the artery in his neck, and the watchman toppled, blood spurting between his fingers as he vainly tried to stem the flow.

  Caina turned just in time to meet the older, silent watchman’s attack. He came at her with both sword and dagger, and he knew how to use his weapons. Caina retreated before his advance, her blades working to beat aside his attacks. She sent a knife spinning for his face, but a flick of his sword sent the blade clattering to the floor. Sooner or later he would pin her against a wall, and that would be that.

  In a fair fight.

  Caina reached up and undid the black silver brooch that pinned her cloak. It came loose and dangled from her right hand, a drape of shadow billowing from her arm. The watchman stopped, frowning at her, and Caina flung the cloak at his face. He sneered and slashed his dagger to knock the cloak aside.

  But mundane steel passed through the shadow-spun cloak without touching it, and the black cloth fell over him. He snarled in fury and clawed at his face, his sword sweeping back and forth before him. Caina ducked below the waving sword and drove her dagger into his gut. The watchman screamed and fell to his knees, the cloak slipping from his face, and Caina dragged her blade across his throat.

  He joined the others on the floor a few seconds later, his blood pooling across the tiles.

  Caina retrieved her cloak and stood, breathing hard. She stared down at the bodies, and the blood staining the floor and walls. They would have killed her, and not thought twice about it. Yet her stomach still twisted with nausea. Suddenly she was eleven years old again, and she saw the men lying sprawled on the floor of her father’s library, their glassy eyes staring at the ceiling…

  Later. The noise might have woken the servants. And there was no way Vanio could have slept through the racket. She had to get out of here now. Caina retrieved her knives, picked up the dropped ledger, and started for their stairs.

  And stopped.

  The burnt smell was stronger. Much stronger. Almost overpowering. Caina turned, puzzled. She saw that the door to Vanio’s bedchamber stood partway open. For a moment she thought Vanio himself had opened it, but the door must have been knocked ajar during the fight.

  The burnt smell poured out through the open door.

  Caina hesitated for a heartbeat. She ought to get out of the townhouse, now, before someone discovered the bodies. Yet that smell. Had Vanio taken to burning pork in his bedchamber? It made no sense, and Caina did not like things that made no sense.

  She pushed the door open the rest of the way and glided into the bedchamber.

  If the townhouse was opulent, the bedchamber was palatial. Her boots sank into a rich, thick carpet. Tapestries hung from the walls, and the wooden furniture gleamed. A massive double bed stood in the center of the room, draped in curtains. The smell was very bad in here, almost overpowering.

  It was coming from the bed.

  Again another memory from that awful day came to her, as she crossed her father’s study, her heart pounding with terror, towards the chair at his desk…

  Caina shook aside the memory. She crossed the room, flung open the curtains, and found the source of the awful stench.

  Vanio himself lay sprawled across the silken sheets.

  Or, rather, what was left of Vanio.

  His corpulent body had been reduced to a twisted mass of black char, his fingers curled into shriveled claws, his mouth yawning in an eternal scream, his eyes and nose blackened pits. His teeth seemed shockingly white in the black ruin of his face. The smell rolled off his charred flesh in nauseating waves. Grease seeped from red cracks in his torso, staining into the silken sheets.

  Impossible.

  Caina stepped back, staring at the gruesome corpse. Vanio looked as if he had been roasted atop a pyre, or burned at the stake. Yet she saw no fire damage to the bed or the room, no smoke stains on the walls. Had he been burned elsewhere and carried here? That made no sense either. Caina had been able to sneak into the townhouse, but she doubted a pair of men carrying a charred corpse could have managed the same feat.

 
Her mouth tightened. That left only…

  “Murder!” shrieked a woman’s voice from the hallway. One of the maids, no doubt. “Murder! Murder! Master Vanio!”

  Time to go.

  Caina tore the curtain from the bed, wrapped her fist in it, and smashed the window. Leaded glass fell in a rain to the courtyard below. She threw the ledger out the window, and then went through herself, finding easy footholds in the townhouse’s stonework. More lights came on in the windows, and Caina heard more shouts, followed by a shrill scream from the broken windows.

  No doubt the poor maid had found Vanio’s corpse.

  Caina dropped into the courtyard, retrieved the ledger, and scrambled over the wall. More screams and panicked shouts came from the house, but it didn’t sound as if anyone had spotted her. Caina had only wanted to get in and out with Vanio’s ledger, and she hadn’t wanted to kill anyone. How had things gone so wrong?

  Well. She hadn’t planned on finding a charred corpse, for one thing.

  Caina broke into a full run, the cloak billowing out behind her like a living shadow.

  Click on this link to continue reading Ghost in the Flames (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1265), or click this link to read The Ghosts Omnibus One (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4484).

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  Acknowledgements

  I would like to thank the readers of the "Choose Your Own Adventure" series on my blog (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer) for bringing such a strong interest to the Caina stories.

  More specifically, I would also like to thank Marsheila Rockwell (author of "Legacy of Wolves" and "The Shard Axe" from Wizards of the Coast) for excellent suggestions concerning cover art, and for much encouragement.

  I would also like to thank Chad & Jenny Heins, Dale Jordan, and Tami Board for reading the first Caina book (the sequel to this one, actually) and providing a great deal of valuable insight and encouragement. Chad is a biologist, and noted that while I spent time in the book describing architecture and landscapes, I only rarely described plants or animals - a weakness in my writing I have since tried to correct.

  Finally, I would like to thank Elisabeth Waters, who bought the very first Caina story for "Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword & Sorceress XXII" way back in 2007.

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  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.

  He has written the DEMONSOULED series of sword-and-sorcery novels, and continues to write THE GHOSTS sequence about assassin and spy Caina Amalas, the COMPUTER BEGINNER'S GUIDE series of computer books, and numerous other works.

  Visit his website at:

  https://www.jonathanmoeller.com

  Visit his technology blog at:

  https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/screed

  Contact him at:

  jmcontact@jonathanmoeller.com

  You can sign up for his email newsletter here (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1854), or watch for news on his Facebook page (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jonathan-Moeller/328773987230189).

  ***

  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.

  The Malrag hordes are coming, vast armies of terrible, inhuman beasts, filled with a lust for cruelty and torment. The Malrags care nothing for conquest or treasure, only slaughter. And the human realms are ripe for the harvest. Only a warrior of Mazael’s power can hope to defeat them.

  The Dominiar Order and the Justiciar Order were once noble and respected, dedicated to fighting the powers of dark magic. Now they are corrupt and cynical, and scheme only for power and glory. They will kill anyone who stands in their way.

  To defeat these foes, Mazael will need all the strength of his Demonsouled blood.

  Yet he faces a far more terrible foe.

  For centuries the Old Demon has manipulated kings and lords. Now he shall seize the power of the Demonsouled for himself, and become the a god of torment and tyranny.

  Unless Mazael can stop him.

  Read Demonsouled (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=880) for free. Mazael's adventures continue in Soul of Tyrants (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=911), Soul of Serpents (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1287), Soul of Dragons (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1727), Soul of Sorcery (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1845), Soul of Skulls (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=2808), and Soul of Swords (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=3599), along with the short stories The Wandering Knight (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=3073), The Tournament Knight (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=3677), and The Dragon's Shadow (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=2635). Get the first three books bundled together in Demonsouled Omnibus One (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4442).

  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 (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1057) for free. Caina's adventures continue in Ghost in the Flames (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1265), Ghost in the Blood (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1383), Ghost in the Storm (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1931), Ghost in the Stone (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=2520), Ghost in the Forge (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=3181), Ghost in the Ashes (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=3932), Ghost in the Mask (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4231), and Ghost in the Surge (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4637), along with the short stories Ghost Aria (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=3243), Ghost Claws (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=3930),
Ghost Omens (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4235), The Fall of Kyrace (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4258), Ghost Thorns (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4639), Ghost Undying (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4662) and Ghost Dagger (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=2371). Get the first three books bundled together in The Ghosts Omnibus One (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4484).

  The Ghost Exile Series

  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.

  Now she is exiled and alone in the city of Istarinmul, far from her home and friends. Yet a centuries-old darkness now stirs in Istarinmul, eager to devour the city and the world itself.

  And Caina is the only one that stands in its way...

  Read Ghost in the Cowl (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4903), Ghost in the Maze (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=5090), and Ghost in the Hunt (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=5244), along with the short stories Ghost Sword (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=4911), Ghost Price (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=5105), and Ghost Relics (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=5265)

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