“That was clever,” said Dio, “that business at the bathhouse.”
“Silence,” said Ephaeron. “So Dio’s eyes did not play him false. There are two of you. I should have known. The Ghosts never operate singly.”
“How did you find us?” said Caina, making sure to keep her voice disguised.
“I offered your companion a glass of wine at Lord Nicephorus’s banquet, and he drank. The wine was quite harmless, along with the tincture I added to it. Of my own design, I might add. Once it entered his blood, my spells could locate him anywhere in the city.”
That, at least, explained how the Black Wolves had found them.
“Why are you trying to kill us?” said Caina.
Ephaeron’s face hardened. “Don’t play the fool with me, Ghost. I know that you are behind everything that has happened here.”
Caina blinked. “What?”
“This entire affair, from the start, has been a Ghost plot to discredit the Magisterium,” said Ephaeron. “When you realized that Nicephorus was a corrupt fool, you saw your chance. You encouraged the Saddai to rebel against his depredations, forming the Sons of Corazain. And then, no doubt, you gave safe haven to some Brother of the Living Flame to train as an Ashbringer, little dreaming of the horror your folly would unleash.”
Caina stared at him in astonishment. “You thundering idiot,” she said. “Kalastus is the pyromancer. He found one of Corazain’s books and…”
“Kalastus?” said Ephaeron with a bitter laugh. “Kalastus is too stupid to clean himself, let alone to study forbidden arcane sciences. He spends half his time ranting about the Saddai, and the other half molesting the servant women. No, I knew that the Ghosts were behind this plot. And proof came when I saw him,” he pointed at Ark, “at Lord Nicephorus’s banquet. He was a decorated centurion in the Eighteenth Legion, and I served as battle magus for the Eighteenth. Such a coincidence captured my attention. When I observed him spying upon the Sons of Corazain, I knew that he was a Ghost, sent to incite the Saddai to rebellion.”
“Idiot,” said Caina, “Kalastus slaughtered every Ghost in Rasadda. His sanity has gone and I don’t know what he’ll do next. If you have any wit at all you’ll help us to stop…”
“Enough,” said Ephaeron. “I will not listen to your lies. It is clear that the Ghosts instigated this revolt to discredit the Magisterium before the Imperial Curia and the Emperor.” His mouth tightened. “You fools could not even see the danger in unleashing an Ashbringer upon the city, could you? All these deaths are upon your heads. But you will answer for them, I promise.” He gestured to the Black Wolves. “Captain, take them. Cripple them if you must, but I want them alive. I can interrogate them at leisure in the chapterhouse after I’ve dealt with the Ashbringer.”
The four mercenaries started forward, swords ready, shields held out before them. Caina flung the knife in her right hand, not at the mercenaries but at Ephaeron. Her aim was true, and the blade struck home at the soft skin of his throat.
Only to bounce away in a shower of sparks.
“Please,” said Ephaeron. “I was a battle magus. Did you think I would take no precautions against weapons of steel?”
Dio and two of the Black Wolves converged on Ark, who backed away, shield raised and face grim. The fourth came at Caina, shield ready to block any thrown knives, sword drawn back for a stabbing thrust. Caina snatched a dagger from her boot, watching the sword. The mercenary was too well-armored, too well-trained. No way could she take him in a straight fight.
Fine. So she would have to do something clever.
Caina tossed the dagger to her right hand and held it out before her. With her left hand she reached up and undid the black brooch holding her cloak shut. The shadow-woven cloth came close without a sound, draping over her left arm. The mercenary’s eyes creased in a faint frown, but still he stepped closer. A dead Son of Corazain lay behind Caina, a short sword still in his grasp. She stepped over the corpse’s left arm, and let herself stumble.
Instantly the mercenary came at her, his sword a blur of steel. Caina twisted as she fell, the blade shooting past her face, and flung the cloak at him. It billowed over his outstretched sword arm and fell over his head. Cursing, the mercenary stepped back, clawing at the cloak. Caina rolled, came to one knee, and stabbed. The mercenary yanked off her cloak just in time for her dagger to angle beneath the skirt of his mail shirt and plunge into his belly. He doubled over with a groan of pain, and Caina leapt to her feet, bringing the pommel of the dagger onto the back of his helmet. The metal dented, and the mercenary fell.
She whirled, saw Ark pressed hard by the Black Wolves, his shield gashed and torn, blood running down his face. More Black Wolves ran through the Temple doors, weapons in hand, and ran at Ark. If they saw her they would cut her down in a heartbeat.
Ephaeron. She had to deal with Ephaeron. If she could kill him, she might be able to talk the Black Wolves out of killing them. No sense fighting if Ephaeron couldn’t pay them, after all. She spotted the master magus watching the fight with an impatient expression, drumming his fingers on his leg. Moving silently, Caina crept up behind him, bloody dagger ready in her hand. She drove the dagger between his shoulders, aiming for his heart.
She felt the blade rip through his cloak and robes, but when it touched his skin, there was a burst of sparks, and the dagger clanged away as if Caina had stabbed a stone wall. Ephaeron spun, pointed two fingers at her, and barked a word. Invisible force slammed into Caina’s torso and flung her back a dozen steps. She rolled, trying to slow her momentum, and slammed into a pile of rubble.
“I commend your persistence,” said Ephaeron, making a hooking motion with his right hand. Again Caina felt unseen force seize her, and she floated into the air, as Gaidan had floated. “But I told you that I am warded against steel.”
Steel, yes. But would his spells stop a rock? Caina seized a chunk of stone as Ephaeron’s sorcery lifted her into the air.
“I confess that I have failed in one respect,” said Ephaeron. “I have absolutely no idea who you are. Someone else in that flirtatious minx of a Countess’s household, I expect. Let’s see what is under that mask, shall we?”
She heard Ark growl in sudden pain.
Ephaeron beckoned again, drawing Caina closer, and she flung the broken stone at him as hard as he could.
It hit him right in the mouth, and his head snapped back with a spray of blood. The force holding Caina vanished, and she hit the floor again. Ephaeron stumbled back, clutching at his face, and Caina scrambled to her feet. A rock, she needed a bigger rock. She looked up at the jagged fingers of the shattered dome, and wild idea took her. She yanked the grapnel and the slender knotted rope from her belt and flung it. The grapnel caught on the very edge of one of the jagged fingers, and Caina began to scramble up.
The ruined shard of dome made an ominous groaning noise.
“Get back here!” She looked down and saw Ephaeron standing below her, his mouth a bloody ruin. He raised his hand, fingers hooked into claws. Invisible power wrapped tight around Caina, and she gripped the rope tighter.
Then the shard collapsed.
Caina just had time to see the surprise on Ephaeron’s face. Then she hit the ground and rolled, rocks raining around her. Fist sized stones bounced off her wounded hip, her shoulder, her arm, and Caina came to a stop with a groan. She managed to get to her knees, looking for Ephaeron.
He lay a short distance away. His head and neck had disappeared beneath a chunk of stone the size of a wagon wheel. Blood oozed out from beneath the stone, along with a gray soup that Caina realized had been Ephaeron’s brain.
She climbed to her feet and saw the mercenaries staring at her. Ark lay motionless between them. She took a step towards him, and the mercenaries raised their swords.
“You killed him,” said Dio, shocked. “You actually killed him.”
“I’d planned it all along,” lied Caina. “Shall we fight? A dead man can’t pay you for it.”
&
nbsp; “He killed Pitor,” said one of the mercenaries. “Stabbed him right in the belly, he did.”
Caina walked to the man she had stabbed – Pitor, presumably – and retrieved her cloak. She desperately wondered if Ark was hurt, or even alive. Feigning unconcern, she settled her cloak back in place and turned to face the Black Wolves.
“I never liked Pitor,” said Dio.
An inspiration struck Caina. “We could fight.” She reached into her belt and produced two of the platinum coins Ephaeron had given her. “Or, you could work for the Ghosts.”
She tossed the coins. They rolled across the floor and came to a halt at Dio’s feet. The mercenary captain scooped them up.
“Of course,” said Dio, “there’s no reason to be unreasonable.”
Caina walked past him and knelt besides Ark.
His armor and the left side of his face were wet with blood. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and darted back and forth. He trembled and shuddered with every breath.
“Tanya?” he rasped, a shaking hand closing on Caina’s forearm. “Is that you?”
“Your name’s Tanya?” said Dio.
“Tanya, I’m sorry,” said Ark. “I’m so sorry.”
“No,” said Caina. “Tanya’s the name of his dead wife. How badly is he hurt?”
Dio hesitated. “Bad. Not so much from the wounds, but because he took so many of them. He wouldn’t go down. He’s a tough bastard, I’ll give him that.”
Caina stood. “You’ll get a lot more money from me if he’s still alive when I come back.”
“Where are you going?” said Dio.
Two things happened then.
The tingling struck Caina again, her skin crawling, but stronger than ever before. Kalastus was working pyromancy again, but on a far larger scale.
And she heard someone make wet, thick groans of pain.
She turned, and saw Gaidan crumpled against the wall. His arms and legs rested at grotesque angles, and odd bulges deformed his belly and chest. Yet he was still alive. Caina walked to his side and knelt over him.
Gaidan’s feverish eyes widened. “Are you Death, come for me?”
“I might be,” said Caina, “if you don’t tell me what I want to know. Why did Kalastus take Sister Tadaia to Corazain’s pyramid?”
Gaidan laughed, and wept at the pain it caused him. “Or what? You’ll kill me? I’m going to die anyway. You can do nothing to threaten me, nothing to stop what’s coming. Nothing!”
“Yes,” agreed Caina. She remembered the fear on Gaidan’s face as he had prayed weeping over his bed. “You’re about to die. And Kalastus is about to kill a lot of people, I’ll wager. Probably a lot of Saddai. Unless I stop him. And I can’t stop him unless you tell me. Which means that unless you tell me, the blood of all those people will be on your soul. When you stand before your god in another hour or so, how are you going to explain that to him?”
Gaidan’s gray face crumpled in sudden horror.
“Tell me,” said Caina.
“He didn’t say why he wanted Tadaia,” said Gaidan, sobbing. “But…but I figured out what he’s going to do. Corazain’s final spell.”
“What?” said Caina, horrified. Corazain’s final spell had leveled Rasadda, devouring the city in a colossal firestorm. Hundreds of thousands had perished as the flames devoured their flesh, no doubt screaming as Ostros had screamed. “He’s going to cast Corazain’s final spell?”
“Yes,” said Gaidan. “It requires blood of great power. Tadaia has power, and he will use her blood to fuel the spell. Kalastus will burn every last man, woman, and child in Rasadda, and draw their life forces into himself. And then he will become Corazain reborn…and the Empire will burn!” He began to giggle, tears streaming down his face. “He will become the Burning Flame made flesh, and the Saddai will be freed from Empire.”
“You fool,” said Caina, “he’ll burn the Saddai along with everyone else.”
But Gaidan only laughed at her, sobbing at the same time, blood and tears dripping down his face.
The tingling against Caina’s skin got worse. How long until Kalastus finished his spell and everyone in Rasadda died as Ostros had died?”
She had to act now.
She stood, leaving Gaidan to die, and rejoined Dio. Two of his men labored over Ark, stripping away the ruined armor and cleaning his wounds. “Stay here at the Temple and keep him under guard. As I told you, if he’s still alive when I return, I’ll pay you double what I’ve already paid. Also, there’s a wagon outside, with some papers inside. Bring the papers here and don’t let anything happen to them. Am I understood?”
“Perfectly,” said Dio. “But where are you going?”
“I’ve already killed one mad sorcerer today,” said Caina, running for the doors. “What’s one more?”
Chapter 26 - A Final Charge
Storm clouds raced overhead.
Caina’s mount, one of the wagon horses she had stolen from Maltaer, galloped through the streets. If chaos had reigned before, now outright pandemonium gripped the city. Men and women fled for the gates, clutching their children, and few stopped to stare at the horrors taking shape in the sky.
It was not hard to see why.
The clouds were black, and flickered with ruby lighting. They moved faster than clouds had any right to move, the wind howling through Rasadda’s streets. The writhing clouds spun like water pouring down a drain, whirling around a central point.
The apex of Corazain’s pyramid.
The funeral pyre blazed brighter than it had before, the flames leaping higher, as if reaching for the clouds. Caina heard men shout that the end of the world had come.
They weren’t far wrong.
At last she thundered into the plaza below the Great Pyramid of Corazain, the Inn of Mirrors on right, the Imperial Basilica on her left. The pyramid’s raging inferno filled the plaza with bloody light. Caina urged her mount towards the pyramid, towards the steps climbing the first terrace. The climb would probably kill the poor horse, but Caina had no time.
Twin points of flame erupted atop the stairs.
Caina saw two black-armored Magisterial Guards standing atop the terrace, burning swords held out before them. The wind made the fires of their blades dance in billowing trails. Apparently Kalastus had not sent all his mind-slaved Guards to die at Romarion’s mansion. Caina’s mount shied at the sight of the flames, dancing sideways across the steps.
She soothed the horse, stroking its trembling flank, and the Magisterial Guards walked towards her. Caina put her boots to the horse’s sides, and the terrified animal leapt forward. She leaned to the right, steering towards the nearest Guard. The blank-faced man came at her, raising his sword for an overhand blow.
Caina snatched Romarion’s rapier from the saddle, braced herself, and whipped the blade around. The sword ripped halfway through the Guard’s neck, driven by her arm and the horse’s speed. The hilt almost tore from Caina’s fingers, but she kept her grip and wheeled the horse around. The second Guard came at her, sword raised, and Caina kicked the horse to another burst of speed. The animal plowed into the Guard, knocking him off balance, and Caina brought the rapier’s pommel down onto the back of his neck. The Guard’s sword tumbled from his fingers, the flames vanishing, and he rolled down the stairs.
Caina reached the first terrace, the horse’s hooves clicking against the polished black marble. Her horse trembled, frightened by the smell of blood, but Caina kept the beast under control. She steered for the next flight of stairs and stopped.
A dozen more Magisterial Guards stood atop the stairs, their burning swords bright points in the sullen gloom. There were more men standing behind them, Caina saw, Sons of Corazain, even ragged Saddai peasants. They shared the Guards’ blank, glassy expressions, and their short swords and daggers flickered with flames as well.
Kalastus must have enslaved them as he made his way from the Temple to the pyramid. It seemed that he had retained enough sanity to guard himself from interf
erence during his final spell. Caina could not possibly fight them all, and nor could she hope to sneak around them. Overhead the clouds continued their mad revolution, the flames from Corazain’s pyre clawing ever higher. The tingling against Caina’s skin grew worse. She had to reach the top of the pyramid now. Could she try to simply ride through them? She might make it past a few, but sooner or later her horse would panic, or someone would land a lucky blow…
“Ghost!”
Caina wheeled around in surprise. Men in red cloaks and leather armor hurried up the stairs, pikes and swords in hand. Valgorix walked at their head, his face strained beneath his steel helm.
“What is happening?” said Valgorix. “The heavens themselves have gone mad. Lord Nicephorus has locked himself in the Basilica, refuses to come out. I went out to do…to do something. What is going on?”
“Our murderer is atop the pyramid, Decurion,” said Caina in her disguised voice. “Master Kalastus of the Magisterium. He found a book of the Ashbringers’ old teachings, and fell under their influence. He’s going to murder Sister Tadaia and use her blood in a ritual to summon tremendous arcane power. It will probably destroy the city, unless he’s stopped.”
“Gods,” said Valgorix. He pointed at the Guards and the Sons of Corazain, who watched them blankly. “And them?”
“Victims of his sorcery,” said Caina. “He’s enslaved their minds, stolen their wills. They will fight to the death.”
Valgorix stared at them, his face gray with fear. For a moment Caina thought he would turn and flee, his men following after. Then he steeled himself and nodded. “What must be done?”
Caina smiled beneath her mask. Valgorix may not have been very bright, but he did not lack for valor.
“If I can get to Kalastus I might be able to stop him,” said Caina. “But I can’t, not with those fellows blocking the way.”
Valgorix nodded. “We can clear them for you.”
“Be careful,” said Caina. “They don’t feel pain, not even crippling blows, and the only way to stop them is to kill them. Don’t let your men handle those burning weapons. I don’t know what the sorcery might do if they touch one.”
Ghost in the Flames (The Ghosts) Page 28