Grave Ghost

by Tia Reed

  “Are those ice crystals on his eyelashes?”

  A gentle hand wiped the needles from his lids and lips. Another wrapped a blanket around him.

  Timak moaned. “No.”

  Someone slapped him. “Wake up, Timak.”

  The chant grew louder. His eyelids fluttered open. He nestled into the master magus. Out on the lake, the blue ghosts danced underneath the stars.

  “It’s over, lad,” Drucilamere said, cradling him tight.

  There was comfort in the strong arms, and warmth. Timak snuggled close. His father had held him thus when he was little, while his mother sang him to sleep with her sweet lullaby. Yazmine’s lullaby.

  Down by the lake, up the tree

  Flowers to smell, come with me

  The gentle words lulled him to sleep.

  Chapter 19

  THE AIR POPPED.

  “Will this convince you?” The shimmering rose genie waved a length of dark green fabric at Vinsant.

  Vinsant whirled, slipped, and knocked his head against the seal. The kaidon went wild, lurching against the barrier again and again as he scrambled away. His foot caught in the hem of his robe and he went sprawling across the stones, just missing the splattered berry pie. The rose genie flew past. She giggled when she saw he had only scraped his hands, of all the insensitive, humiliating creatures in the world. He sure hoped she wasn’t always going to bring him to his hands and knees. He picked himself up and dusted himself off.

  “Are you always so jumpy?” she asked.

  Vinsant found himself grinning like an idiot. “Only when pretty genies sneak up on me.”

  “Do many do that then?”

  “No.”

  “Pretty, huh?” She tossed her ponytail.

  He had said that? What was he thinking? “Not pretty enough to charm a kaidon.”

  “You think I’m going to fall for that?” She blew and his hood fell off.

  “It was worth a shot.” And a good save. He circled her, walking right around the pedestal with the stone statue of the mahktashaan god, past the empty alcove that was supposed to contain the Eye of Mahktos, and the alcove with the secret tomes. She bobbed around so she was always facing him. “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to convince you.” She held out the fabric.

  “I’m not going to deal. I’ve banished you once, I can do it again.”

  She stuck her hands on her hips. “I left because I wanted to.”

  “Oh really?” Vinsant held his quartz and assumed an expression of fake resolve. “Begone I say.”

  “I’m still here.” She darted around him, twisting this way and that, the length of fabric billowing until he was so dizzy he stopped trying to follow her. He pointed. She stopped still and rolled her eyes. “Oh, give up. I might be new at this but so are you.”

  Vinsant crossed his arms. “I’m not going to deal.”

  “Maybe this will change your mind.”

  Holding up the gold embroidered fabric, she blew. There was something familiar about it as it sailed his way and drifted to the ground.

  “That’s my sister’s veil.” He snatched it up. One corner was stiffer than the rest. He found a note pinned there. This was way cool, even it was a trick. Anyway, no harm could come from reading it.

  Dear Vinsant,

  If this note reaches you, then you are plagued by a genie. I beg you to set aside your notions of adventure and read this with caution, for I do not know if the creature can alter my words upon the page. I can only trust that you know me well enough to hear the advice I would give regardless.

  The genie floated behind him and peered over his shoulder.

  “Do you mind? This is private.”

  “Sorry.” She vanished and reappeared in front of him. For a genie, she sure had a sense of decency.

  The rose genie has been a friend to Ahkdul’s page, Timak, who is safe and well in Myklaan. In all the times I have seen her, she has offered a scant help without ever brokering a pact. It is for that reason alone I do not summon the minoria. But she is djinn, and she consorts with the indigo creature. I do not trust her. Do not deal unless you must, unless your life depends on it, and then only if you know for what you deal, and only if you can bear to live with an eternity of consequences. Seek advice from the majoria if you must. He will serve your interests more than this creature ever will. By that last, you may come to understand the extent of my caution. You cannot know how much I miss you. I beg you to do naught that will jeopardise your future. Until we can next talk, and even more until we can next meet, I remain,

  Your loving sister,

  Kordahla.

  He read and reread the letter. It sure sounded like Kordahla, telling him what to do, worried about his future. He looked up. Kneeling on air, hands on her thighs, the genie was studying him.

  “So you want to convince me not to deal.”

  “What?”

  “Kordahla says not to trust you.”

  The genie looked horror struck. “But you must.”

  “Please go. Unless you want to tell me your name.”

  “I shan’t go. In fact, I shall stay right here until you agree. You can just freeze until you catch your death.” She crossed her arms and glowered. The temperature plummeted.

  Vinsant chuckled, concentrated and, with a flash of crimson from his quartz, called forth two balls of heat and light. Just for effect, he made them dance around his head.

  “Uhh!” She was right upset, to jerk her shoulders that way. She was even pouting.

  He should have guessed the pout would turn into a blow, and the blow into a wind. The heat balls whisked away from him. Vinsant hunkered down. The gale was tugging his robe off him, whipping books off the shelves, even gusting berries off the floor and right into his hair. Magic training had not provided an antidote to djinn, but perhaps if he conjured a shield?

  Domas. It worked. Seating himself snug inside, he twitched his eyebrows at her. Too bad about the cold. If he could just expand the shield, he might fit a heat ball in here. Then the floating genie might change her expression from aggrieved to annoyed. Making a big pretence of yawning, he settled in for a long wait. It was just a few seconds before an idea lit her face.

  “Oooh,” Vinsant said as she floated him right up to the ceiling.

  She executed a perfect twirl of triumph, her long pony tail swinging, her crystals aglow. Crossing her arms, she gave him a nod. “Better keep concentrating. You’re going to run out of air soon.”

  His mouth was open. Vinsant snapped it shut. Hands flat on the bottom of the shield he blinked the hard, stone floor into focus. It was a long way down. Knowing his luck, he would fall asleep and plunge to his death. “Levitos,” he said, changing his focus. The shield broke, he dropped. “Levitooosssss.” He halted so close to the ground, the fleshy tip of his nose was touching the stone. It had to be the save of the century. With a smug lift of his chin, he turned himself over, stuck his hands behind his head, and started whistling.

  The genie floated right over him. He had never been this close to a girl before, not if you didn’t count Kordahla. She was pretty and she smelt nice, of pink roses, like her shimmery colour. Too bad she was a genie. He supposed that meant she wasn’t really a girl.

  “We could stay here all day. I’m not going to deal.”

  “If you won’t deal, maybe your sister will.”

  “She won’t.”

  “She already has.”

  “Take that back.” He reached out but she vanished.

  She reappeared over the statue. Swinging himself onto his feet, Vinsant summoned his Myklaani sword. If nothing else, he could look threatening. “If you hurt my sister, I’ll walk the entire Three Realms to discover your name.”

  “Don’t you get it? I’m trying to help her. I’m trying to help you.”

  “You’re not going to leave me or my sister alone, are you?”

  She shook her head, her solemn eyes pleading. Things had gone too far, but Vinsant was
not about to be bested by a girl, even if she was a genie. He initiated the thoughtlink to Arun. I need to speak to Kordahla. Nothing. He tensed and shouted the message.

  What in the name of Mahktos has got into you, apprentice?

  Arun, there’s a genie here and she’s got a message from Kordahla. I need to speak to her. Now.

  He felt Arun move, sensed the distraction as he hurried. Where is here?

  Er.

  Don’t even think about lying to me.

  The library.

  Nice try.

  It’s true.

  I know you well enough to understand you’re exactly where you shouldn’t be. Are you alone?

  Apart from her and a kaidon, yup. Arun’s alarm forced him to backtrack. Don’t worry. The kaidon’s behind a seal.

  Vinsant, you alone with a genie in the heart of a mahktashaan secret is enough to worry me to my grave. And that’s without the kaidon.

  I’m fine. Just don’t tell Levi. Please.

  Don’t count on it. If you got past the lock he needs to know, and to strengthen the seal. Arun was perturbed. That he had managed to do it.

  Um, actually, a mahktashaan let me in with a key. This time, anyway. He caught a hint of relief. A useful mahktashaan secret lay somewhere in all this.

  I need to speak to Mariano, Arun said. I’m going to sever the link.

  No, don’t! Too late. He no longer had a connection.

  Vinsant circled the room. He couldn’t help biting a fingernail. The crazy genie floated cross-legged above the statue, watching him with precise movements of her head that set her pony tail in continual motion.

  “You’re making me dizzy,” she said.

  “I’m making you dizzy?” He hopped over the squashed pie.

  She stood. On air. “Shall I return the favour?” She whirled around herself until she was a blur of colour.

  Vinsant grabbed at her. He missed, but found himself staggering into the statue. The eyes blinked. Vinsant sprang back. The genie stopped spinning. She dropped so her head was below Mahktos’s, and kowtowed in mid air. Crimson light beamed from the eyes, bathing her. Vinsant wobbled because the room was still spinning around him. He wasn’t so dizzy he couldn’t tell the genie’s face was shining when she lifted her head. He put a hand on the pedestal to steady himself, and stepped inside the light.

  “Mahktos?”

  The crimson light faded. It was gradual and he almost didn’t notice it. Vinsant frowned.

  “Hey, how come Mahktos doesn’t affect you?” he asked.

  She sighed. “Because I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  Vinsant, Arun’s voice said, preventing further interrogation.

  Kordahla?

  Vinsant, you mustn’t deal, his sister said.

  Vinsant squeezed his eyes tight. The room was still spinning when he opened them. He plonked onto the floor and dropped the sword. That’s funny. I was about to say the same thing to you. The genie said you did, but I know you wouldn’t. You didn’t, did you? I mean to get the note to me.

  Vinsant, what does she want you to do? Kordahla asked.

  That was no answer.

  Arun must have thought the same. Kordahla. What did you agree to? He was tender with her. That was plain unfair. If it had been Vinsant who had made a deal, he would have been tied in chains and stone deaf from a good rollicking. Kordahla, you need to answer me.

  Vinsant felt her resist. No way was he going to allow her to slide into the apathy he had felt yesterday. She doesn’t have to. It’s none of your business.

  Vinsant, Arun said, accompanying the word with a sharp feeling of warning.

  Promise me you will not deal. Promise me. This hysterical person was not his sister.

  I promise. I won’t deal. Ever. Not even if my life depends on it. He was beginning to panic. Mariano doesn’t know, does he, Arun? You didn’t tell him. You can’t tell him I talk to her.

  No, Vinsant. Mariano thinks I’m easing a physical hurt. Arun did not even try to hide how displeased he was. Well if he didn’t want to help, Vinsant would find another way to reach Kordahla.

  Kordahla, what did the genie ask? Arun persisted.

  I did not deal. The thought was accompanied with a surge of despair.

  I believe – The link to Kordahla broke. Hey! Where is she? What happened?

  She needs to rest. Vinsant, you are the one person who can keep her sound. Promise me again, as an apprentice mahktashaan. She will need reassurance in the morning.

  What happened to her? Why is she like this? This is Ahkdul’s fault. I know it is.

  Calm down. This mess is too complex to lay the blame on any one person. She will heal in time but I want that promise, apprentice.

  I promise I will not deal. And just so you know, my promise to Kordahla means as much as my promise to you.

  Good. Now tell me what it is you want.

  What do you mean? He threw a good dose of sulking suspicion down the link.

  I mean the djinn deal by offering a prize their victim finds irresistible. And before you answer, I will remind you of your oath to tell the truth.

  What did he have to lose? The worst that could happen was that Arun would tell Fenz, who would clap him in shackles. He was stuck in the mines anyway, and he needed Arun on side. The last part of the secret to the Eye of Mahktos is hidden in the alcove with the kaidon. The genie wants to get it for me.

  What did she ask in return?

  We didn’t get that far because I wasn’t prepared to deal. He was mighty glad Arun didn’t have a ready response. Now do you trust me?

  Since Fenz doesn’t know you are in Guntek’s chamber, and you are looking for ways to get past a kaidon to access a secret you have no business knowing, I can’t say that I do.

  How do you know Fenz doesn’t know?

  It isn’t that hard to guess. As far as your little adventure goes, the Eye is safe with the majoria, though I’d like to know how you learned of it.

  Long story and, um, actually, no, the majoria doesn’t have the Eye. It was just an illusion. The Eye’s been lost since Guntek’s time. At least it is until someone finds the key.

  The genie giggled. Across the link. The infuriating girl started singing a stupid, old nursery song.

  Old merry Sai bit berry pie

  And it splashed right into his eye

  Her voice made it impossible to concentrate on the link. He felt it waver, and break. Vinsant jumped up with his best glower. She had chosen that rhyme on purpose.

  “Dispumos,” he growled. It cleared the squashed remnants of the pie she had made him drop. “Sumbek.” A damp towel appeared in his hand. He cleaned himself up as best he could.

  He crossed his arms. “What did you do that for?”

  “The mahktashaan was about to make you promise not to fight the kaidon.”

  “So?”

  “Now you can make up your own mind.”

  Taking a deep breath, Vinsant picked up the sword and executed a few artful but doomed swipes at an imaginary kaidon.

  The genie floated up behind his shoulder. “Its pincers are longer than that sword.”

  “Got a better idea?”

  “Yes. Make a –”

  “Save it.” He swung the sword around. She disappeared before it cut through her. Off balance he tottered towards the wall. The kaidon was lazing against the shield. Seizing him up for a meal, the way its jaws were clicking. Heat balls had not left a scorch mark on its armour and he had no idea how to throw a lethal magical bolt, not that Levi’s had had any effect. Levi and Fenz, two of the most powerful mahktashaan, had come close to dying while fighting this beastie, yet he was hoping to best it. This was starting to seem like an awful idea. Unfortunately, he was going to look a right coward if he left now.

  One eye closed, sucking on his cheek, Vinsant regarded the genie as she lay on her side near the ceiling, ankles crossed, chin on hand, watching like he was a circus performer with a new act. She had made it clear she was here to stay. He could
always deal if things went wrong. That would not be like making a deal outright, when he was safe and had a choice about it. Arun would never know and Kordahla would never blame him if he was dealing for his life. And he did have a brilliant idea about how to best the overgrown insect.

  Just to be safe, he stashed the two pieces of parchment in a heavy book, and placed it on the highest shelf in the middle alcove. He supposed he needed to levitate all the fallen books back onto the shelves so he wouldn’t trip up at a crucial moment. That done, he pulled Fenz’s forgotten key from the slot by the empty alcove, and inserted it into the one near the kaidon’s alcove. Taking a deep breath, which failed to convince him his clever plan would work, he levitated. It was hard to concentrate with the genie watching, but he managed to tip himself upside down and insert his quartz halfway in. Right way up again, he used his foot to push it the rest of the way.

  “All right.” His plan was working. The seal was wavering. The kaidon struck out. A pincer pierced the barrier and scraped his chest. Tilting, arms circling wide for balance, he lost focus and dropped to the ground. He let himself land hard, concentrated instead on forming a shield that rose three quarters of the way up the arch. The kaidon poked its upper body through the hole, bent and began to scuttle down the outside surface. Vinsant pushed the shield up. It pressed against the kaidon, holding it fast, half in, half out of the alcove. He flipped onto his stomach and wriggled forward. A pincer came crashing down. He rolled but the tip pierced a sleeve of his robe, pinning him to the ground. As the second pincer swiped over him, he arched his back. It missed him by the curl of a puffer’s tongue. Thanking Mahktos the right pincer couldn’t reach him, he tugged at the sleeve. The kaidon seemed in no hurry to let go. The mandibles were working fast. A glob of green saliva appeared at their tip. He pulled harder. Fabric ripped, but not far enough to free him. The kaidon spat. Vinsant pulled hands, feet and head into his robe as the goo dropped. Fabric sizzled. He could smell it burning, feel the dampness through the robe. Wriggling out of the garment, he rolled across the chamber and pawed at his shredded shirt. Sneaking a look at his chest took the last of his courage. His one hair, the mark of his manhood, had been burned. And not even a scar to show for it.