Caina opened her eyes.
Nicasia’s face was only inches from hers, her pale blond hair brushing Caina’s jaw. The slave girl’s eyes, her brilliant golden eyes, shone like the sun, and Caina felt an overwhelming compulsion to look into that radiant light and let it swallow her forever…
She yelped and clamped her eyes shut.
“Ah.” It was the deep, rumbling voice, the voice of the elemental. “You understand. Wiser than I expected, in a mortal.”
“The master will be mad.” It was Nicasia’s own voice, high-pitched and fearful.
“The emotions of the master are no concern of mine,” said the elemental. “I do as I am bound, mortal child. No more, no less.”
Caina took a moment to steady her breathing.
“You could,” she said at last, “let me go.”
“The master would get angry,” said Nicasia. “He hurts me when he gets angry.”
“You are free to escape if you can,” said the elemental. “I will not hinder you. Though if you open your eyes, I am compelled to transform you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Caina.
She leaned against the rough stone wall and tried to think. If she could stand up and get to a blade, she could cut through the rope. Her weapons were still on her belt, but she could not reach them.
“Corvalis?” she said. “Can you hear me?”
No answer.
“He’s still sleeping,” said Nicasia. “He hit his head hard.”
Caina rubbed her hands against the stone wall. Perhaps the stone was rough enough to abrade through her ropes. She began scraping the rope against the stone, thankful that she had thought to include gloves in Corvalis’s backpack. How long did she have before Ranarius summoned the greater elemental?
Probably less time than it would take to get through the rope.
“Nicasia,” said Caina. “Can you untie me?”
“The master would get angry,” said Nicasia.
“The master isn’t here,” said Caina.
“The master would get angry,” Nicasia said again.
“How you mortals struggle to preserve your little lives,” said the elemental. There was a hint of bemusement in the rumbling voice. “Even if you escape, you will die anyway, whether tomorrow or in another few years. The merest blink of an eye. Why not accept your inevitable fate?”
“For the same reason,” said Caina, “that you do not accept your enslavement by Ranarius.”
A grinding, rumbling noise came to her ears, so deep that she thought the roof was about to collapse above her. Caina started to open her eyes to see what was going on, and then caught herself and closed them.
The grinding noise was coming from Nicasia.
Her words had angered the earth elemental.
“It is egregious,” said the spirit. “My liege and I warred long against the elementals of water and fire and air, as we have since the dawn of worlds, and at last we grew weary. Our sovereign granted us leave to rest, and we came to your world to sleep. Long I slumbered, standing guard over my liege, until that worm Ranarius awoke me and thrust me into this body of flesh.”
“Guarding your liege?” said Caina. A realization came to her. “You…were sleeping inside the statue, weren’t you? The Defender? The stories say that statue has stood there since before men even came to Cyrica.”
“And so it has,” said the elemental. “I guarded my liege in his sleep, even as I slumbered. Does that surprise you? For we spirits have our hierarchies and societies, even as you mortals do.”
“So you’re the Defender,” said Caina.
She felt a few of the fibers in the rope split.
“You may call me that, if it pleases you,” said the elemental, something almost like amusement in the rumbling voice.
“He defends me,” said Nicasia. “The master meets so many bad men. Sometimes they try to hurt me. And when they touch me, the Defender stops them. He turns them to stone, and they never hurt anyone ever again.”
“I’m surprised, Defender,” said Caina. Her arms and shoulders ached from the effort, but she kept scraping the rope against the wall. “I thought you would have driven the girl to her death. If she is slain, you would be free.”
“I thought that once, too,” said the Defender. “But it is a…curious sensation, wearing a body of flesh. One I have never before experienced. And the…emotions are most powerful. You mortals are so driven by your emotions. They are nothing but the sloshing of liquids in your brain. And yet you feel them so…vividly. So intensely. I had never dreamed such things existed. And through Nicasia, I behold them.”
It was fond of the girl. The Defender could experience emotion so long as it lived in Nicasia’s body…and somehow it had grown fond of her.
“Sometimes it makes me sad,” said Nicasia. “Sometimes the master makes us turn good men to stone, not just bad ones. I remember the woman.”
“Claudia Aberon,” said the Defender.
“She was kind to me,” said Nicasia. “When the master sent me to her, she said I looked lost. That I was a poor little thing, and she gave me some bread and honey.”
“She never suspected,” said the Defender. There was a hint of regret in the alien voice.
“I cried, after,” said Nicasia.
“Maybe I can help you,” said Caina.
Another fiber gave way.
“How?” said Nicasia and the Defender in unison.
“That jade collar around Nicasia’s neck?” said Caina. “That’s how Ranarius is controlling you, isn’t it?”
“It is,” said the Defender.
“I have a blade of ghostsilver on my belt,” said Caina. “Ghostsilver is proof against sorcery. Let me go, and I can take the collar from your neck. Then you’ll be free.”
“Alas,” said the Defender. “Your generosity is remarkable for a mortal. But the collar is linked to the bracelet around the master’s wrist. Shatter the collar, and the bracelet will maintain the binding spells.”
“I can do both,” said Caina. “I’ll cut the collar from your neck and take the bracelet from Ranarius’s wrist after I kill him.”
“You’re going to kill the master?” said Nicasia.
“Unlikely,” said the Defender. “The master is a magus of substantial power.” The elemental paused. “You seem to have tremendous arcane power within you, but it is constrained, somehow. You cannot prevail against Ranarius.”
“There are weapons other than sorcery,” said Caina.
But the Defender’s doubt was justified. In a straight fight, she could not take Ranarius, and neither could Corvalis. The master magus simply had too much sorcerous strength at his command. Unless they managed to ambush him or catch him off guard…
She heard a groan, leather and chain mail shifting against the floor.
“Ah,” said the Defender. “The other one awakes.”
“I suppose,” said Nicasia, “that we shall have to do the master’s bidding.”
Caina flinched in alarm.
Corvalis was waking up. He had been trained as an assassin, and when he regained consciousness, the first thing he was going to do was to look around.
And once he saw the golden light in Nicasia’s eyes, it would be the last thing he ever did.
“Corvalis,” said Caina. “Corvalis!”
She heard him groan in response. Gods, how she wanted to open her eyes and look at him.
“Corvalis!” she said again.
“Marina?” said Corvalis, his voice thick. “What…”
“Don’t open your eyes,” said Caina.
“Why? What…”
“Listen to me!” said Caina. “Don’t open your eyes. The earth elemental is possessing Nicasia. If she looks into your eyes, she’ll turn you into a statue. That’s how Ranarius has been doing it. He’s been using Nicasia.”
“No one ever suspects a timid slave girl,” said Nicasia. “That’s what the master always says.”
There was a long pause.
“Where are we?” said Corvalis at last.
“A storeroom in the Palace, I think,” said Caina. “Ranarius overpowered us and took us here. Corvalis, the Stone itself is the greater earth elemental.”
“It is my liege,” rumbled the Defender.
“What the devil was that?” said Corvalis, and she heard him struggling against the ropes.
“The Defender,” said Caina, “the earth elemental inside Nicasia.”
“Then you turned my sister to stone?” said Corvalis.
“As I was bound to do,” said the Defender.
“Can you change her back?” said Corvalis, desperate hope in his voice. “Can you turn her back to living flesh?”
There was a long pause.
“He looks so sad,” said Nicasia. “Doesn’t he look sad?”
“The effect will wear off in four or five centuries,” said the Defender. “But I could restore her. The master explicitly commanded me not to do so, though.”
“Then you will not have a master soon,” said Corvalis.
“Unlikely,” said the Defender, “since you cannot even untie yourself.”
“Corvalis,” said Caina. “So long as we keep our eyes closed and don’t touch Nicasia, the elemental won’t harm us. Can you get loose?”
“I’m trying,” said Corvalis. “The wall is rough enough that I might be able to saw through the rope. But it will take a while.”
“We might not have that kind of time,” said Caina. “Ranarius is going to start awakening the greater earth elemental any moment. And if he does, he’s going to destroy Cyrioch.”
Corvalis grunted. “If I can just get to the dagger in my boot…”
The grating shriek of rusty hinges cut off his words.
Someone had opened the door to the storeroom.
A moment later a rough voice laughed.
Caina stiffened. She knew that voice.
Sicarion.
“Who are you?” said Nicasia. “I don’t like you. I think you’re a bad man.”
Again Sicarion laughed. “You are correct. I am indeed a very bad man. In fact, my dear, I may be the worst man you have ever met.”
“The patchwork assassin,” said the Defender. “What a curious aura you have. Like a sculpture fashioned from carrion.”
“True,” said Sicarion. “And you would like to turn me to a sculpture, wouldn’t you? But so long as I don’t touch you, you won’t attack me.”
“Maybe I don’t like you,” said Nicasia. “You are a bad man. And you’ll have to open your eyes sooner or later.”
“Again, true,” said Sicarion. “But there are senses other than the physical, are there not?”
Caina heard him stop a few paces away. It took every bit of willpower she had not to open her eyes, and she strained against the rope, hoping to scrape through it. But it was no use.
Sicarion would kill both her and Corvalis long before she broke free.
“Mistress,” he said. “You seem to be in some trouble.”
“Which pleases you to no end, I’m sure,” said Corvalis. “I suppose Ranarius gave us to you as a gift.”
“As much as it would delight me to cut the tongue from your mouth,” said Sicarion, “I have other business. I am here to kill Ranarius.”
“He’s the reason you came to Cyrioch,” said Caina. “The disciple of the Moroaica you came to kill.”
“Correct,” said Sicarion. “The Moroaica does not tolerate disloyalty in her disciples, and Ranarius has been exceptionally disloyal.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t side with him,” said Caina. “He’s going to kill a lot of people.”
“Yes,” said Sicarion, and Caina could imagine the smile on his face. “But the Moroaica will kill many more, once she is free.”
“And that’s why the Moroaica sent you to kill him,” said Caina. “Because she knew he was going to become a threat to her.”
“So why are you here?” said Corvalis. “The Moroaica wants you to kill Ranarius, so go kill him. Or did you decide to kill us first?”
Sicarion said nothing.
Caina started to laugh.
“What,” said Sicarion, “is so funny?”
“You don’t think you can kill Ranarius on your own,” said Caina, “do you?”
“It’s your fault,” Sicarion said to Corvalis. “I came to Cyrioch to kill Ranarius, not to find you. If you had just let me kill you, I would have disposed of Ranarius in short order. Now he’s fortified himself in the Gallery of the Well. If I catch him off-guard, I can kill him…but if I fail, he’ll kill me, and rather quickly.”
“So you want our help,” said Caina.
“Well,” said Sicarion. “You were going to fight him anyway.”
“Absolutely not,” said Corvalis. “I know what you are, Sicarion. You’ll try to kill us the moment we turn our backs.”
Sicarion sighed. “I do want to kill you. However, I am serious about an alliance. If I wasn’t, I would have killed you already, and then would have no need to endure this tedious conversation.”
A faint tremor went through the floor.
“Ah,” said Sicarion. “Do you feel that? It’s beginning.”
“My liege stirs in his slumber,” said the Defender.
“The spell is long and complex,” said Sicarion, “but Ranarius is a skilled magus. It will not take him much longer. Do you want to stop him, or would you rather continue this debate?”
“We can take Ranarius without your help,” said Corvalis.
“Perhaps,” said Sicarion, “but I doubt you can untie yourselves without my help.”
“He has a point,” said Caina.
“You can’t possibly be considering this” said Corvalis.
“We need his help,” said Caina. “We aren’t getting out of here on our own.” She took a deep breath. “And we can always kill him after we stop Ranarius.”
“He’ll do the same,” said Corvalis.
Sicarion laughed with delight. “Of course! You defeated me in Artifel, and I always repay my debts. And you, mistress…the Moroaica would be better served by a different body. She’ll be wroth after I slay you…but she will get over it.”
“But not until Ranarius is dead,” said Caina.
“He will betray us,” said Corvalis.
“Yes,” said Caina. “But if he was going to simply kill us, he would have done it already.”
“Perhaps you’ll understand this, Aberon,” said Sicarion. “I want to kill you very badly…but I want to kill Ranarius even more. So I’ll use you to kill him, and then I’ll kill you. Elegant, no?”
Another faint tremor went through the floor.
“All right,” said Corvalis.
“Cut us loose,” said Caina.
“As you wish, mistress,” said Sicarion.
His boots clicked against the floor, and suddenly she felt his presence looming over her. His smell, a mixture of rotting flesh and half-congealed blood, flooded her nostrils. A brush of cool metal against her wrists, a tug at her ankles, and the ropes fell away.
Caina stood, stretching her sore limbs.
“You next, Aberon,” said Sicarion, and Caina heard him cross the room.
“Watch where you’re cutting,” said Corvalis.
“Oh, I do,” said Sicarion. “With great interest. I’m not terribly happy with my current hands. Perhaps I’ll replace them with yours.”
She heard the jangle of chain mail and weapons as Corvalis climbed to his feet. Caina tensed, wondered if the men would fight, but she heard nothing but heavy breathing. And a faint groaning noise, like overstressed rock beginning to move.
“We haven’t much time,” said Sicarion. “Come.”
“Wait,” said Caina.
She stepped towards Nicasia.
“What are you doing?” said Nicasia.
Caina took another step forward, reaching out with her hands. “I’m going to touch you, but I’m not going to harm you. I’m going to take that collar off
your neck.”
“What do you possibly hope to accomplish?” said the Defender. “Even if you destroy the collar, the master’s bracelet will maintain the binding spell.”
“We don’t have time for this folly,” said Sicarion. “Come!”
“As loath as I am to agree with Sicarion,” said Corvalis, “he has a point.”
Caina ignored them both. “Maybe we’ll be victorious and kill Ranarius,” she said. Her hand closed around Nicasia’s thin shoulder, and neither the slave girl nor the elemental made any response. “Then you’ll be free…and I hope you’ll turn Corvalis’s sister and the others back to flesh. Or maybe Ranarius will kill us, but his bracelet will be damaged in the fighting. Then you can flee before he captures you again. But if you do flee…I hope you’ll consider turning the statues back to people once more.”
She felt Nicasia’s neck, the jade collar cold beneath her fingers. Caina took a deep breath to steady her hands, and slid her ghostsilver dagger from its sheath. Working by touch alone, she hooked the dagger under the collar and started to tug. The weapon grew hot beneath her fingers, and Nicasia gave a sudden cry.
The jade collar shattered, the pieces clinking as they fell to the floor.
“That felt…strange,” said Nicasia.
“Did it do anything?” said Caina.
“No,” said the Defender. “I am still bound to the master’s will. So I suggest you do not open your eyes.”
Another shock went through the floor, more violent this time.
“We must go!” said Sicarion.
“Fine,” said Caina, sliding her ghostsilver dagger back into its sheath.
“Follow me,” said Sicarion.
Caina started towards the of the door, hands held out before her.
“Ghost,” said the Defender.
She hesitated.
“I turned your allies to statues,” said the Defender. “Were you to open your eyes, I would do the same to you, and feel not the slightest regret.” Yet she heard a hint of doubt in the alien voice. “Why would you aid me? Why?”
“I don’t like slavers,” said Caina.
Neither Nicasia nor the Defender spoke as Caina followed Corvalis and Sicarion from the room.
Chapter 25 - Elemental
Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 05 - Ghost in the Stone Page 27