After a moment Caina realized she could not pinpoint the source of the weeping.
An instant after that, she realized the crying was coming from inside her own head.
She raised her hands to cover her ears. Still the crying echoed inside her own head, a voice full of misery and woe. Was the voice even real? Had Mihaela’s spell damaged Caina’s mind, leaving her to hear things that weren’t there?
“Gods,” said Caina. “The last thing I need is to go mad.”
The crying stopped with a gasp.
“You can hear me?” said the woman’s voice, speaking Anshani. “Please, by the Living Flame, tell me that you can hear me!”
“I can,” said Caina, turning in a circle. “Where are you?”
“Here!” said the woman. “I am here! Why can you not see me?”
Caina’s eyes fell upon the suit of red glypharmor, the one Mihaela had used to slaughter the criminals. Again she felt the peculiar attraction to the suit. But it was…different, this time, less compelling, less magnetic. Yet it was still there. Some of the attraction had been Jadriga’s power responding to the glypharmor, but the Moroaica was gone now.
So why did Caina still feel drawn to the armor?
Flawed. Mihaela had said the designs created using red Nhabati steel had been flawed.
“You,” said the woman’s voice. “I remember you. I saw you after Mihaela…after Mihaela made me kill all those men.”
The armor was talking to her?
The thought was ludicrous. But was it? Mihaela had created it using necromancy, binding the soul of a living sorcerer into the steel. Torius had gloated how Marcus would remaining screaming inside the armor for all eternity. And if Mihaela had said the red armor was flawed, did that mean the soul within retained more power that she had liked?
“You had two souls,” said the woman’s voice, “one dark, and one scarred. I could see them both. I couldn’t see that way when I served in the Hall…”
The realization struck Caina like a physical blow.
“Oh,” she said. “You’re Ardasha, aren’t you?”
Stunned silence answered her.
“You know me?” said the voice at last. “How do you know me?”
“Shaizid,” said Caina, limping towards the red glypharmor. “Your brother Shaizid. He asked me to find you.”
“Oh, my poor Shaizid,” said Ardasha. “I promised my mother I would look after him always, and now I have failed. Oh, Shaizid!”
“Mihaela betrayed you, didn’t she?” said Caina. “She murdered you and bound your soul into the armor.”
“She promised to teach me,” said Ardasha. “She said I would become a Seeker, that I would help her. I thought…I thought if I was a Seeker, I could take care of Shaizid, like I promised my mother.” She groaned. “But she betrayed me. Mihaela strapped me into the Forge, and cast her spells, and…and…”
Her voice dissolved into sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” said Caina. “Shaizid is still alive, if it’s any comfort. But he might not be for long if Mihaela finishes her work.”
“What is she doing?” said Ardasha.
“She lured the most powerful sorcerers in the world here with promises of glypharmor,” said Caina. “She’s incapacitated both them and the Sages, and she’s going to transform them into glypharmor.”
“Oh, by the Living Flame,” moaned Ardasha. “This is my fault. My fault. If…”
“It’s Mihaela’s fault,” said Caina. “She murdered you.”
“Why can you hear me?” said Ardasha. “No one else can. Not even Mihaela. I have screamed and screamed, but you are the first to hear me.”
“I think it is because of what happened to me as a child,” said Caina. She stopped before the red glypharmor, gazing up at the helm. “I was wounded by a necromancer, and ever since I have been able to feel the presence of sorcery. That’s why I can hear you. I think…I’m going to try something…”
She reached out with her bare hand and placed it upon the cold steel of the glypharmor’s leg.
An electric jolt shot through Caina. A vision burned before her eyes of an Anshani woman hanging in a net of chains, the links piercing her flesh, blood running down her dark skin. The woman screamed and fought, but the chains held her fast.
And they would hold her fast for all eternity.
Caina stepped back, breathing hard, her head spinning.
“I saw you,” said Ardasha, her voice full of wonder. “I saw who you really are. You are the Balarigar. Shaizid and I heard the stories. How the Balarigar freed the slaves in Marsis.”
“The Balarigar,” said Caina, “is only a story.”
“You can free Shaizid,” said Ardasha, “and you can stop Mihaela.”
“How?” said Caina. “I can’t do it by myself. Mihaela and her allies will kill me on sight. I can get help from the Imperial Guards, but just one suit of glypharmor can slaughter them all.” Her hands curled into fists. “I might be able to kill Mihaela from a distance with a crossbow. But I can’t destroy her damned Forge. Even if I kill her, Sicarion or Torius will keep using the Forge.”
“There is a way,” said Ardasha, her voice full of terrified hope.
“What?” said Caina.
“Use me,” said Ardasha.
“Use you?” said Caina, puzzled. “What does…”
Then she understood.
“No,” Caina said. “Absolutely not. The Forge is monstrous, and what Mihaela did to you is monstrous. I will not wield that kind of power.”
If she did, she would be no better than Claudia.
“You must,” said Ardasha. “You have no chance alone. With my help, you can destroy the Forge and bring Mihaela to account.”
“Sorcery is evil,” said Caina. “I want to stop it, not use it.”
“Mihaela used the sorcery,” said Ardasha. “Mihaela did this to me. You will help stop her from doing it to others.”
“You were a slave when you came to Catekharon,” said Caina. “Mihaela promised you freedom, and instead she enslaved you more profoundly than ever.” She shook her head. “If I do this, if I use the glypharmor, I would be no better than her. She made you a slave, and I would do the same in turn.”
“You must!” said Ardasha, her voice full of anguish. “Else Shaizid will surely die.”
“And using you would be suicide,” said Caina. “If I try to attack Mihaela wearing a suit of glypharmor, she’ll take control of me.”
“She cannot!” said Ardasha. “Not with this glypharmor. The design was flawed. That is why she abandoned using red steel. Her spells of domination did not work. I am still enslaved in the steel…but she cannot control anyone wearing a suit of red glypharmor.”
Caina had seen firsthand the brutal power of the red glypharmor. With it, Caina would be all but invincible. She could force her way through Mihaela’s mercenaries, smash the Forge to shreds, and kill Mihaela herself. Neither Torius nor Sicarion would be able to stop her.
But it would mean using sorcery. It would mean using an enslaved soul as a weapon.
“I cannot do this!” whispered Caina.
“Please,” said Ardasha. “Mihaela did this to me against my will. But I want you to use me. I give you permission. If you don’t…more people will suffer as I have suffered. You can save them.”
Caina could use the glypharmor to defeat Mihaela. But Claudia had thought to use the power of the glypharmor for good, and her folly had all but guaranteed Mihaela’s victory. What would happen if Caina tried to use the glypharmor?
“Is there no one you want to save?” said Ardasha. “Someone you love as I love Shaizid? Mihaela will wage war against the entire world. If you love anyone, they will perish when she unleashes the glypharmor.”
Caina thought of Corvalis, of Halfdan. They would try to stop Mihaela, and Mihaela would kill them both. Kylon and Claudia would be fed to the Forge, enslaved forever as living suits of necromantic armor. Neither of them deserved that. Theodosia and Ark and Ta
nya and Nicolai lived in Malarae…and if Mihaela was victorious, then one day warriors wearing suits of glypharmor would stalk the streets of the Imperial capital, killing with every stride.
Unless Caina stopped Mihaela first.
“Damn it,” she whispered. “How do I get into this thing?”
“Under the bottom edge of the cuirass,” said Ardasha. “There is a groove. Rest your hand there, and the armor will open.”
Caina ran her fingers along the bottom edge of the cuirass, the potent sorcery within the steel making her skin crawl. Her fingers found the groove, and she felt a flicker in the glypharmor’s aura. The cuirass swung open like the doors of a wardrobe, and the helmet rotated back with a metallic groan. The glypharmor’s chest was hollow, the steel lined with hundreds of hieroglyphs, and Caina saw a pair of footrests.
She took a deep breath, gripped the edge of the interior compartment, and pulled herself up. Caina caught her balance and stood within the armor, her boots sinking into the footrests.
“Now what?” said Caina.
“There are bars inside the arms,” said Ardasha. “Grip them, and the glypharmor will heed your will.”
Caina reached into the arms, her fingers curling around the bars, and squeezed. For a moment nothing happened.
Then the cuirass swung shut with a clang, the helmet dropping over Caina’s head, darkness and silence swallowing her. She felt as if she had sealed herself in a coffin, and she remembered lying chained atop that metal table in Maglarion’s lair, the necromancer standing over her with a glittering dagger.
Then a pulse of sorcery surged through the steel, the hieroglyphs filling the gloom with white light…
…and the glypharmor came alive around Caina.
She felt it wrap around her like a second skin. Suddenly she could see the workshop around her with stunning clarity, hear the hiss of the superheated air over the stream of molten metal. The massive shell of steel felt like a part of her, like a second body around her body of flesh.
A body of steel that felt neither pain nor weakness, a body stronger than blood and bone and muscle.
Much stronger.
“How do I move?” said Caina.
“As if you were walking,” said Ardasha. “The armor reads your thoughts, and acts in response to your will.”
Caina took a hesitant step forward. She expected the motion to feel cumbersome. Yet she moved as lightly as if she were naked. She took another step, and then another, and it felt no different than strolling along a street in Malarae.
“This is…” said Caina, trying to work moisture into her dry throat, “this is remarkable.”
She could not help but admire Mihaela’s skill. For all its evil origins, the glypharmor was the work of an unmatched genius. Neither Maglarion nor Kalastus nor Ranarius had ever made anything like this.
“It is,” said Ardasha, voice quiet. “I thought I would help Mihaela make something wonderful. Instead she used me to create a horror. But together we can stop her.”
“How much stronger will this make me?” said Caina.
“Much stronger, Balarigar,” said Ardasha. “The glypharmor has the strength of a hundred men.”
“Let me try something,” said Caina.
She came to a stop, turned, and moved in one of the unarmed attacks Akragas had taught her years ago.
Her steel fist slammed into the cuirass of a suit of black glypharmor, striking with enough force to lift the armor a few inches off the ground. It toppled backwards and struck the floor with a deafening clang, the stone tiles of the floor cracking into dust and splinters, a tremor shooting up Caina’s steel feet.
She felt her body of flesh blink in surprise. That suit of glypharmor weighed tons, and she had sent it to the ground with a single punch.
“The Hall of Assembly,” said Caina. “We have to hurry. Mihaela will have started by now.”
She strode towards the door to the Seekers’ quarters. The door was far too small to accommodate the glypharmor or the Forge, and Mihaela must have used a different route to move the Forge to the Hall of Assembly.
Caina had no time to search for it.
Steel fists ripped a gaping hole in the stone wall, and she strode through without slowing.
###
“To the foe!” roared the Imperial Guard tribune, pointing with his sword. “Kill every last one of the mercenaries!”
The Imperial Guards bellowed a battle cry and marched forward in lockstep, shields raised, javelins ready. Saddiq and his mercenaries fanned out on the left, scimitars and shields in hand, the men shouting taunts.
Corvalis stayed behind them, sword in his right hand, Caina’s ghostsilver dagger in his left. He was an assassin, not a Legionary, and the Imperial Guards had years of experience fighting together as a unit. He would only get in their way. But the Sarbians fought as desert raiders, relying on chaos and disorder, and Corvalis would fight in their midst.
And he could use them as a distraction to hunt down Mihaela.
Basil had asked that of both Corvalis and Kylon. No matter how many men died today, no matter what happened in the Hall of Assembly, Mihaela had to die. She knew how to create the glypharmor.
“Kill them!” Mihaela’s voice rang over the Hall. “Kill them all!”
A screaming mob of mercenaries charged the Imperial Guards. The mercenaries kept no formation, and they couldn’t have done so, anyway. Hundreds of unconscious men and women, sorcerers and lords and guards both, lay scattered across the Hall’s floor. A lot of them were going to die in the next few moments, Corvalis knew, slain by errant blows in the fighting.
Claudia. He had to find Claudia.
“Release!” bellowed a centurion of the Guard.
In one smooth motion, the Guards came to a halt, drew back their arms, and flung their javelins. A rain of steel pelted the charging mercenaries, and dozens of them fell with screams. Corvalis expected the mercenaries to break and run beneath the barrage, but the men kept coming.
Perhaps they feared Mihaela more than they feared the Guards.
The mercenaries crashed into the Guards’ line, and steel rang on steel as men fought and shouted and died. Saddiq bellowed a command, whirling his scimitar over his head, and the Sarbians charged into the mercenaries’ flank. Corvalis joined the fighting, his sword and dagger dealing death. A mercenary lunged at him, thrusting with a broadsword, and Corvalis blocked with his sword, sidestepped, and opened the man’s throat with the ghostsilver dagger. Another man took his place, and Corvalis cut him down, and then another, and another.
And then he was clear of the melee. Dozens of mercenaries sprinted past him, making for the fighting, but the rest of the Hall was clear of foes. Corvalis spotted Mihaela standing in the round chamber at the Tower’s heart, her damned machine perched at the edge of the molten pool. Five suits of black glypharmor stood near the giant steel coffin, no doubt created in the time since Corvalis had left the Hall.
Hopefully Claudia had not been one of them.
Corvalis turned towards the central chamber. If he could get to Mihaela and cut her down, the knowledge of the glypharmor would die with her. And then he could find Claudia and get her away …
White light flared in the suits of glypharmor. The black armor shuddered, trembling…and then four of the suits started forward, the floor trembling beneath their stride.
Corvalis cursed.
It was over.
If four of Mihaela’s mercenaries had gotten into the armor, they would rip apart the Imperial Guards and the Sarbians like wolves among a herd of crippled sheep. Corvalis ran for one of the bridges over the molten river. Mihaela had won, but Corvalis might still have a chance to get Claudia away…
He saw a dark blur in the corner of his eye.
Corvalis threw himself down, and an instant later a black sword tore through the space where his head had been. He rolled back to his feet, sword and dagger before him, and stared into the grinning face of Torius Aberon.
“Brother
,” said Torius. “I’m very glad you are here. I would have been disappointed if I didn’t get to kill you myself.”
“You’re going to feed Father into Mihaela’s damned machine,” said Corvalis, backing away. “Turn him into one of those things.”
“I thought you would approve. You have no more love for him than I do. A pity you don’t have any talent,” said Torius, “or else I would do the same to you.”
“But if you’re going to kill Father,” said Corvalis, “then there’s no need to curry his favor by killing me.”
“Very true,” said Torius. “So I’ll just kill you because I don’t like you.” He laughed. “I think I’ll make you beg before I kill you, Corvalis.”
“Try,” said Corvalis.
He had to end this fight, now, with a single blow. Else he stood no chance against Torius’s sorcery-enhanced strength and speed.
“Gladly,” said Torius, his smile widening as he lifted his sword, and as he did the entrance to the Seekers’ quarters exploded in a spray of shattered stone.
Chapter 26 - Weapons of Sorcery
The door to the Hall of Assembly was not nearly large enough to handle the red glypharmor, but that did not slow Caina in the slightest.
Her body of steel ripped through the wooden door and the surrounding stone wall as if they were thick cloth, broken chunks of stone raining around her. She felt Ardasha’s mind against hers, their thoughts merging, felt the dead woman’s grief and pain and sorrow.
And her rage, a fury to match Caina’s own.
Caina strode into the Hall of Assembly, the ground trembling beneath her steel boots.
A battle filled her sight. The cohort of the Imperial Guard struggled against Mihaela’s mercenaries, driving them back with grim efficiency. But that would not matter. Caina saw four suits of glypharmor striding across the Hall, heedless of the unconscious men and women trampled beneath their steel feet. Once the men in glypharmor reached the fighting, the battle was over.
Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 06 - Ghost in the Forge Page 27