Ghost in the Glass

by Jonathan Moeller

  Basarab snorted. “With all respect to Theodosia, a theater company would not be much help against a Temnoti necromancer.”

  “Maybe not,” said Calugar. “But haven’t you realized the truth yet, sir?”

  Basarab looked at the witchfinder. “And what truth is that?”

  “Theodosia's a spy,” said Calugar. “Not for the Umbarians, but for the Empire. Likely she is a Ghost circlemaster, sent to spy out the movements and plots of the Umbarians within Ulkaar.”

  Calugar, Kylon noted, was a rather perceptive man.

  “I see,” said Basarab. He rubbed his forehead, grimaced at the sweat on his palm, and then shook his head. “Well, I asked for help, and the Divine provided. But what do you propose we do? We cannot stroll up to the sanitarium’s gates and break into it. It is too well guarded for that. Svetlana and Teodor tried storming the building, and we know how that ended.”

  “Aye,” said Theodosia. “But before we decide upon a course of action, it would help to have more information. We need to break into the sanitarium and have a look around.”

  “And what do you propose?” said Basarab. “We dress up in black, climb up the wall, and sneak through the hallways?”

  “That doesn’t work as well as people think,” said Caina, who had done just that many times. Kylon kept himself from laughing. “No, better to have a reason to be there, something that would hold the attention of any guards and Lady Libavya herself…”

  “Such as the Voivode’s birthday party,” said Theodosia with a smile.

  “Birthday party?” said Basarab.

  “High Brother, you need to pay closer attention to these things,” said Theodosia. “In two nights, Lady Libavya is hosting a masquerade ball in honor of Voivode Gregor’s birthday at her sanitarium. All the chief nobles and szlachts and merchants of Vagraastrad are invited.”

  “Why the devil would he want to have his birthday party at a sanitarium?” said Seb. “It hardly seems like the most festive setting.”

  “Because if he is a member of the cult of Temnuzash,” said Caina, “then it would serve him well to don a public mask of piety and charity. No doubt instead of gifts, the Voivode will announce that he would prefer donations be made in his name to the sanitarium. They all win. The Voivode looks charitable, the sanitarium gets money to keep running,” her face darkened, “and Lady Libavya has a constant supply of patients she can use to create new reveniri.”

  “But why do this?” said Seb. “Why create so many reveniri? Why start this sanitarium and murder the patients to create undead? It seems like a great deal of effort for relatively little gain.”

  “I don’t know,” said Caina. “Hopefully that is one of the things we can discover.”

  “All this is moot,” said Basarab, “if we cannot obtain invitations to the Voivode’s party. As you no doubt have realized, I am not terribly popular with the nobility of Vagraastrad, and I would not be welcome there.” He looked at Caina and then at Seb. “For that matter, you two are obviously members of the House of Scorneus. Lady Caina looks like Talmania Scorneus at first and even second glance. Given that Libavya is friends with Talmania, your presence would be obvious.”

  “Fortunately, I have a solution to this problem,” said Theodosia. “I shall be invited to sing at the Voivode’s masquerade ball.”

  Basarab laughed. “And just how will you manage that?”

  “Several of the Voivode’s szlachts have attended our performances here,” said Theodosia, waving a hand at the darkened theater. “A few of them suggested that I sing at the Voivode’s party. I declined since I intended to leave Vagraastrad for Risiviri.”

  “Very well,” said Basarab. “So you obtain invitations to the party. Then what?”

  “Then we investigate the sanitarium,” said Caina. “We find proof that Lady Libavya has been murdering her patients and raising them as undead. If we can unmask her publicly, the Voivode will have no choice to have her executed.”

  “Would it not be simpler to just kill her?” said Calugar. “The witchfinders of the Temple have the authority to summarily execute necromancers.”

  “I would advise against that,” said Theodosia. “The Voivode is clever enough to make a martyr out of her. The generous and respected Libavya Jordizi, murdered at the Voivode’s birthday party? If Gregor Vagastru has half the wits the gods gave a goat, he would decide to blame the murder on you.”

  “That is a good point,” said Basarab. “Very well. I agree to this plan, and will help you carry it out.” He smiled. “I may not be as good at this kind of game as you, mistress Theodosia, and I may not be as popular as Lady Libavya, but I do have some resources. How shall we begin?”

  They all looked at Caina. She had been looking at Theodosia as if expecting the older woman to take charge. No doubt Caina was accustomed to following Theodosia’s orders. But Caina was a valikarion, and she was the one who had set them upon this path.

  “I think,” said Caina, “that we had better get you ready for an audition.”

  Chapter 10: Costumes

  Seb had been a soldier for most of his adult life, had fought in more battles and skirmishes than he cared to remember. He knew what it felt like to prepare for battle, to ready oneself for the fighting to come.

  To his surprise, preparing to infiltrate Lady Libavya’s ball felt exactly like preparing for a battle.

  Granted, Seb had never gone into battle alongside a theater company before.

  That thought unsettled him. During his time as a battle magus, he had gone into battle to assist the soldiers of the Imperial Legions, the best infantry in the world. He had fought side-by-side with battle magi who had the power to kill a dozen men with a wave of their hand, had followed the commands of grim old lords who had won dozens of battles during their service to the Empire.

  Now he was going to go into battle with a theater company and his mad half-sister.

  Still, it could have been worse. Caina was a valikarion, which meant that Libavya and the Temnoti could not use any spells without her knowledge. Both Caina and Kylon carried valikons, which were extremely effective against the reveniri. Neither the Voivode nor Lady Libavya had realized that Theodosia was a Ghost, though Seb suspected that Antonin Crailov could figure it out in short order. Hopefully, the dangerous assassin would not take a hand in the matter.

  Then again, if Crailov had been hired to protect the Voivode, and Crailov decided that Caina was a threat to him…

  Seb sighed and pinched his nose.

  “You seem troubled,” said Kylon.

  “Really?” said Seb. “What possible cause would I have to be troubled?”

  Another cold winter day had come to Vagraastrad. The sky was the color of iron, and flurries of snow blew past. The icy wind tugged at Seb and seemed to slice into him like a knife. Kylon walked at his side, the towers of the Voivode’s Castle rising behind them. Seb and Kylon had gone there to speak with the Voivode’s seneschal and arrange an audition for Theodosia. To Seb’s mild surprise, the seneschal had proven enthusiastic about the idea, and Theodosia would sing for Gregor Vagastru himself later this afternoon.

  That, at least, had gone well.

  “I can think of a few dozen reasons,” said Kylon.

  “Only a few dozen?” said Seb. “Lord Kylon, I had thought you a man of greater imagination.”

  Kylon laughed. “Not really. You and Caina are the ones who think too much.”

  “Sometimes,” said Seb. “But what of your thoughts? Do you think this is a good idea?”

  “You do not, I take it,” said Kylon.

  “Not particularly,” said Seb. “I fear that we are picking a fight that we might lose.”

  “The Temnoti know that we have the Ring,” said Kylon. “Did you wonder why all those reveniri attacked the inn?”

  “It did cross my mind,” said Seb. “I assumed that they had come for Teodor, but as I think back on the fight…it does seem unlikely that Libavya would have sent so many reveniri just to kill on
e old man.”

  “Maybe,” said Kylon. “Apparently Libavya is using her reveniri to snatch people from the street. She cares about secrecy, but only to a point.” He rolled his shoulders. The cold never seemed to trouble him very much, probably because of his skill with the sorcery of elemental water. “I think she knew that we have the Ring and it was at the Szlacht’s Sword. I also think she sent the reveniri after us as a test, to see what would happen.”

  “A sortie to gauge our strength, then,” said Seb.

  “Exactly,” said Kylon. They turned onto the street leading to the Szlacht’s Sword and the theater. “And we destroyed that sortie. Lady Libavya’s next move will be to strike back, but much harder. She will gather as many powerful allies as she can and attack when advantageous. That’s why I didn’t want to leave for Risiviri as soon as possible. We’d be vulnerable on the road, and Libavya would have more time to prepare her next attack.”

  “Then you want to attack her before she can strike at us again,” said Seb.

  “Exactly,” said Kylon. “If we can expose her, that will put the Temnoti of Vagraastrad into disarray. We can get to Risiviri, hire a ship, and get out Ulkaar before the Temnoti or the Umbarians can stop us. Once we’re out of Ulkaar, we’ll be out of reach of the Temnoti, and we can get to Iramis without any problems.”

  They stopped in the street between the Szlacht’s Sword and the theater. Seb had not seen many people out and about. When it was this cold, the Ulkaari sensibly conducted their business indoors. Even the vendors and peddlers in the market squares huddled around braziers of hot coals for warmth.

  “You’ve thought this through,” said Seb.

  “Hopefully,” said Kylon. “Or we’ll all get killed.”

  “Reassuring,” said Seb.

  Kylon's smile was hard. “You’ve done this before. You know as well as I do that nothing is ever guaranteed in battle. It is a risk, yes, but I think it would be a worse risk to simply leave and give Libavya the time she needs to prepare against us.”

  “As you say,” said Seb.

  “You did tell me that you wanted to be a valikarion when you were a child,” said Kylon. “Isn’t hunting down a necromancer in her lair the sort of thing a valikarion does?”

  Seb laughed. “I suppose so. You’ll have to ask your wife, though. She is the one who would know.”

  Kylon nodded. “Go find Theodosia and let her know when the Voivode will see her. I want to check on Teodor and Sophia. Teodor seems in better control of himself now, but I want to make sure he stays lucid.”

  Seb nodded. “Do you think his daughter is dead?”

  “Probably,” said Kylon. “I hope not, but there’s no reason for Libavya not to have killed her. For his sake, I hope he doesn’t see her as a reveniri.”

  “That would be a small mercy,” said Seb.

  Kylon headed into the inn, and Seb pushed open the doors to the theater. The cavernous space was empty, dim gray light leaking through the windows and onto the benches and the stage. Seb walked to the maze of rooms behind the stage where the theater company stored their props and costumes and other equipment. He grimaced, looked around the gloomy hallway, and headed for a doorway that spilled light into the corridor.

  Beyond was a room that served as a bath house, with four wooden tubs sitting on the floor. Multiple lanterns provided light, and a table sat against one wall, supporting a large mirror. Seb stopped in sudden embarrassment. A blond woman wearing only a large towel wrapped around her torso and upper legs sat on a stool before the mirror, running a comb through her wet hair, the muscles shifting in her sinewy arms as she did so. Seb caught a glimpse of the woman’s reflection in the mirror, saw cold blue eyes in a sharp-featured face.

  “Caina?” he said, startled.

  Caina didn’t turn around, but he saw her reflection smile. “You should really learn to knock, Seb.”

  “The door was open,” said Seb. “We’re about to attempt to expose a powerful necromancer…and you’re dyeing your hair?”

  Her smile widened in the mirror. “Think you can figure out why?”

  “Ah,” said Seb. It was, of course, obvious. “You look too much like a Scorneus in general and Talmania Scorneus in particular. Changing your hair color is a quick and effective way of altering your appearance.” He paused. “Though now you look at least somewhat like Rania Scorneus.”

  Caina kept combing. “But not her mirror image?”

  “No.”

  “And from what I understand,” said Caina, “Rania Scorneus hasn’t been in Ulkaar in years. Talmania was just here, in Vagraastrad, a few days ago. With some proper clothing choices, no one should make the connection.”

  “That seems…prudent,” said Seb.

  Caina turned her head back and forth before the mirror, scrutinizing her reflection. “I’ve done this before. But I never like this color. It makes my face look too sallow.”

  “Calvia always said she likes the contrast of black hair and a pale face,” said Seb.

  “Mmm.” Caina set down the comb and turned around, one hand holding her towel closed. “Well, she’s not wrong. I’d like to get dressed now if you don’t mind.”

  “Yes, of course,” said Seb. “Do you know where Theodosia is? Lord Kylon and I just returned from the Voivode’s Castle. Theodosia is to sing for the Voivode himself in two hours.”

  “Oh, good,” said Caina. She stood up, still holding the towel in place. The muscles in her legs were sharp and defined. No doubt she had spent a lot of time running for her life.

  “You don’t sound surprised,” said Seb.

  “That’s good because I’m not,” said Caina. “Theodosia is very good at what she does. I think she should be in the back room with Ilona. Be sure to close the door on your way out.”

  “I remind you once again,” said Seb, “it wasn’t closed.”

  Caina grinned at him, and Seb sighed and stepped back into the corridor, closing the door behind him. It was just as well, he thought, that Kylon obviously loved Caina. Being married to a Scorneus woman had to be a trial. Katrina had been nothing like any of Seb’s relatives, a fact for which Seb had been duly grateful.

  Light came from an open door at the end of the corridor. Seb strode towards it, making sure his footfalls rang against the floor. He did not want to walk in on anyone else today. He stopped at the door, drawing breath to speak…

  Sheer surprise froze him.

  It was a small dressing room. A pair of lanterns rested on either side of a mirrored table, and Ilona sat on a stool before the mirror. She was wearing a robe, and she had just started to take it off and lower it to her waist as Seb stepped in front of the door.

  Underneath the robe, she was wearing nothing.

  The sight of her locked Seb’s mind for a moment. Her black hair cascaded against her slim shoulders and her pale back. Her skin looked soft and clear and fair, and Seb was gripped by the overwhelming urge to find out what it felt like.

  “Caina?” said Ilona. “Is Lord Kylon back yet?”

  Seb forced moisture into his throat and stepped back, rebuking himself as a fool. “My pardon, madam. I was looking for Theodosia.”

  “Lord Sebastian?” said Ilona. To his great discomfort and embarrassment, she turned on the stool and smiled at him. Her left arm was raised to cover her breasts, and it took every bit of Seb’s self-control and discipline as a magus to look at her face. “Do the magi of the Magisterium forget to knock?”

  “For the gods’ sake,” said Seb. “The door was open…”

  Her smile widened. “Or do the magi regularly spy upon women as they get dressed?”

  Today, Seb reflected, was not going to be his day.

  “Some do,” said Seb. “I do not. Forgive me. I was only looking for Theodosia, and…”

  Ilona laughed. “I am just teasing you, Lord Sebastian. I know you are a decent man. If you were not, I would be screaming at the top of my lungs and threatening to stab you.”

  “How flattering,” sai
d Seb. He should have left, he knew, but he could not make himself walk away. “And how do you know I am a decent man?”

  She shrugged, which made her chest do interesting things, and Seb could not stop himself from looking down. “You did get upset about my jokes with the prostitutes. I’m sorry about that, by the way.”

  “It is of no concern, madam,” said Seb.

  “And you know I’m a Ghost nightkeeper,” said Ilona. “Before that…well, I’ll admit I did a bit of thievery. Singing and acting do not always pay the bills. If I couldn’t tell when a man had a good heart or not, I would have been dead a long time ago.”

  “How do you know I have a good heart?” said Seb.

  Ilona shrugged again. “I heard the story Lady Caina told Theodosia. You helped fight all those mavrokhi at Kostiv, even though you could have left.” Her eyes grew distant. “I saw a mavrokh once, years ago, in Risiviri. It killed someone in the street. Horrible.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I could make myself face a creature like that. But you did.”

  “That makes it sound more impressive than it really was,” said Seb. “I could not have abandoned Kostiv in good conscience. Nor could I have abandoned Caina…”

  “Your half-sister,” said Ilona. “Was that strange, learning that you had a sister you never knew existed?”

  “Immensely,” said Seb. Part of his mind was pleased that he was managing to have a civil conversation with a half-dressed woman he found attractive. “But knowing my mother, it was not at all surprising.”

  “Caina is a strange woman,” said Ilona.

  “How do you mean?” said Seb, though he could take a half-dozen guesses in that direction.

  “I would say she is mad,” said Ilona, “but she isn’t. There is something…fey about her, is there not? I wonder if the ancient Arvaltyri were like her. She looks at you, and it’s like those eyes slice into you and learn all your secrets.”