Caina frowned and walked around the coffin, the valikon’s point before her.
On the other side of the coffin, about halfway down the steps to the bier, crouched a young woman.
She wore only a linen shift that was stained with blood and sweat, her brown hair hanging in greasy cords down the back of her neck and onto her shoulders. Her arms and legs were thin, and she looked as if she had lost a great deal of weight recently. A collar of black iron encircled her neck, affixed to a length of chain that had been driven into one of the stone steps. Around each wrist and ankle went another band of black iron, joined to a chain that connected to her collar. The chains were long enough that she could stand, but she would not be able to take more than a few short, halting steps.
And to Caina’s eyes, the black chains glowed with necromantic power.
“Go to…” started the woman. Then she saw Caina and the burning sword, and her eyes went wide. She scrambled backward, the chains jangling, her bare feet slapping against the ground. Caina stepped closer, and the woman reached the end of her leash with a jerk.
“You’re not Libavya,” said the woman.
“No, I’m not,” said Caina.
“That is a valikon,” said the woman, wonder replacing fear for a moment. “The sword of an Arvaltyr.” She blinked. “An Arvaltyr who’s dressed as a noblewoman’s maid. By the Divine, I’m losing my mind and hallucinating.”
“You might have lost your mind,” said Caina, “but you’re not hallucinating.” As she stepped closer, the white light from the valikon’s blade drowned out the green glow from the coffin, and she got a good look at the woman’s face. It was too hard-featured to be pretty, with a commanding, square jaw. Come to think of it, that jaw looked familiar. So did the green eyes.
Teodor had eyes and a jaw like that.
“Let me take a guess,” said Caina. “Your name is Svetlana Valcezak, and you’re a sister of the Imperial Magisterium from Risiviri.”
The green eyes went wide. “How did you know who I am?”
“Your father told me about you,” said Caina.
“My father?” said Svetlana. “He’s alive?”
“Aye,” said Caina. “Not well, though. I think Libavya tried to wipe his memory.”
Svetlana shook her head. “No, it was one of the Temnoti, the Malvashar…”
“Malvashar?” said Caina.
“The ranking priest among a group of Temnoti,” said Svetlana. Likely that had been the lead Temnoti priest in the group of three that Caina had seen. “Libavya didn’t care why we were here, she just wanted to feed us to that thing in the coffin. The Malvashar was more cautious. He was afraid that more witchfinders might be coming, that the Boyar of Risiviri or the Magisterium might have sent forces north to deal with the Temnoti of Vagraastrad. He tried to read each of our minds before Libavya killed us. Not that it mattered. The Boyar didn’t have anyone else to send. We were it.” She blinked. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Caina.” She hesitated, wondering how to explain the situation quickly. Likely they did not have much time.
“Are you an Arvaltyr?” said Svetlana. “The rumors in Risiviri said that some renegade Ghost had brought Iramis back from the ashes of the past, that the loremasters and Arvaltyri had returned. But there’s been all kinds of crazy talk since the civil war started, and…”
“That rumor, at least, is true,” said Caina. “I was in Iramis until a few weeks ago.”
“Listen,” said Svetlana. “You need to run. I don’t know how long you have until Libavya and the Syvashar come back. If you’ve come this far, you know what they’re doing. Get the hell out of here and find High Brother Basarab. Everyone in Vagraastrad thinks he’s a gluttonous drunk, but that’s just a cover so the Temnoti don’t assassinate him. He’s a good man, and if you tell him what you’ve found, he’ll act. He’ll…”
“Actually, I’ve already met him,” said Caina. She went to one knee next to Svetlana and scrutinized the iron chain. “And if all goes well, you’ll see him again in a few moments.”
Svetlana shook her head, the chains jangling. “No, I won’t. The Temnoti made these chains to bind a user of arcane force. I can’t use any spells, and I can’t leave. I can’t break these chains…”
“I have a valikon,” said Caina, looking at the framework of spells on the chains and shackles.
“So?” said Svetlana.
“So,” said Caina, “I think I can break the spells on your chains, and then you’ll escape with me.” And Ilona, assuming she didn’t panic and run out of her cell.
“The old stories said that a valikon can break any spell,” said Svetlana. “I didn’t think…”
“Talk to me,” said Caina, her eyes following the lines of power upon the chains. She thought the spells were focused on the shackles and the collar. “Tell me what’s going on here. I know some of it, but not all, but I wager that you know all of it.”
“All right,” said Svetlana. “Ah…I’m a sister of the Imperial Magisterium, part of the chapterhouse in Risiviri. We were summoned to join the Legions in the Disali provinces, but with the Umbarians besieging Artifel, we aren’t able to get out of Ulkaar. So, we remained in Risiviri to assist Boyar Mircea. He’s a supporter of the Emperor and an enemy of the Temnoti, but Gregor Vagastru supports the Umbarians and protects the cult of Temnuzash.”
“Go on,” said Caina, examining the band on Svetlana’s left ankle.
“Um,” said Svetlana. The magus was terrified, Caina could tell, and also wrestling with the unexpected hope of her appearance. Nonetheless, Svetlana pulled herself together. The disciplined training of the Magisterium was good for at least that much. “The Great Temple in Risiviri and the Boyar Mircea got a letter from High Brother Basarab, asking for help. One of the Voivode’s vassals was killing the citizens of Vagraastrad and raising them as undead reveniri.”
“Libavya Jordizi,” said Caina. She raised the valikon.
“Boyar Mircea, the preceptor of the chapterhouse, and the Highest Brother of Risiviri decided to send help to Basarab,” said Svetlana. “We thought we could defend the people of Vagraastrad and weaken both the Voivode and the Umbarians’ position in Ulkaar…what are you doing?”
“Hold still,” said Caina. “This might sting a little.”
She pushed the point of the valikon into the iron shackle on Svetlana’s left ankle. The hilt warmed under Caina’s hand, and white smoke started to rise from the chain. Svetlana let out a hiss of pain but had sense enough to remain still. The cords of power upon the shackle unraveled, and it shattered into smoking pieces.
“Sorry that hurt,” said Caina, turning her attention to the band upon Svetlana’s right ankle.
“It just burned a little,” said Svetlana. “But by the Divine, if you can get me out of here, I will accept all that and more.”
“Keep talking,” said Caina, examining the right shackle. “What happened after you came to Risiviri?”
“When we arrived, it was clear that Libavya Jordizi had murdered all the patients in the sanitarium and raised them as undead,” said Svetlana. “My father was furious. He was one of the chief witchfinders of Risiviri, and the thought that an Ulkaari noble had done such things unchallenged enraged him. He and Basarab wanted to wait and gather more information, but I wanted to attack at once. I persuaded my father, and so we attacked. By the Divine, I was a fool.”
“What went wrong?” said Caina.
“Libavya was waiting for us with a mob of reveniri and three Temnoti priests,” said Svetlana. “Most of the witchfinders were overwhelmed and killed, and Libavya raised them as reveniri. She took me captive and is draining my power to help fuel her spells on the coffin. My father played dead after the Malvashar tried to read his mind, and I told him to escape and find help. Since you’re here, I guess that he did.”
The band around her right ankle shattered, and Svetlana winced.
“Sit up and hold out your left hand,” said Caina. Svetlana obeyed, her chain
s clanking. “The coffin. Do you know what Libavya wants with it?”
“It’s the coffin of Cazmar Vagastru, one of the Iron King’s szlachts,” said Svetlana.
Caina pressed the valikon into the shackle around Svetlana’s left hand, and it hissed, heated up, and then shattered. Svetlana winced and flexed her fingers.
“Cazmar’s coffin,” said Caina. “I take it he’s…not quite dead?”
“No,” said Svetlana, holding out her right hand. Caina started examining the spells on the shackle. “The Warmaiden destroyed him, but the Temnoti found his remains and put them in the coffin. Maybe they thought the Iron King might need him when the time of the Final Night comes. Libavya’s been trying to restore him, killing victims in necromantic spells and feeding their life force into the coffin. She wants to raise Cazmar as a vyrkolak, bind him, and force him to tell her the secrets of becoming a vyrkolak.”
“Then she can live forever, I assume,” said Caina. She shattered the shackle on Svetlana’s right hand, the pieces of smoking iron falling to the steps.
“Yes,” said Svetlana. A shudder of pain went through her lean frame. The iron shackles had left faint red burns upon her wrists. “Ever since the civil war started, the Temnoti priests have been coming out of the shadows. The Magisterium and the Emperor are too busy to deal with them, and the Temnoti think the Final Night is coming soon.”
“Hold still,” said Caina, “and arch your head back, please. I don’t want to accidentally slice your throat open.”
Svetlana blinked a few times, nodded, and arched her head back, exposing her throat and the iron collar around it. Caina nodded to herself and pressed the point of the valikon against the collar. She started to ease the sword into the collar’s spells, and Svetlana swallowed again, her pulse fluttering in her throat. The valikon’s power overcame the necromantic spells of the collar, and it shattered with a loud crack. Svetlana flinched, and the hot pieces of iron fell from her neck and clanged against the floor.
“That really hurt,” croaked Svetlana. “I…I can still breathe, so I guess it didn’t cut my throat.”
“No,” said Caina. “It burned you a little, and one of the broken edges left a scratch, but that’s all. Can you stand?”
“Aye,” said Svetlana. Caina straightened up and stepped back, dismissing the valikon, and Svetlana got to her feet. Her legs trembled a little, but she kept her balance. “If it means getting out of here, I’d run naked through the snow. Where did your valikon go?”
“Elsewhere,” said Caina. “I can call it back if I need it.”
“Let me try something,” said Svetlana. She lifted her right hand and concentrated, and Caina saw and felt the faint surge of arcane power. A shimmering sphere of blue light appeared over Svetlana’s palm and then vanished. “I can still cast spells. That ought to help us get out of here.” More fear went over her face. “But if we have to fight…”
“There are six reveniri guarding the corridor with the prison cells,” said Caina.
“Six?” said Svetlana. “The two of us cannot fight six of them alone, even with your valikon.”
Caina beckoned, and Svetlana followed her, taking care to avoid cutting her bare feet on the bones and rusted weapons littering the floor. “We can’t. But I’m an Arvaltyr, and the carrion spirits within the reveniri cannot perceive me. So I’m just going to walk up and destroy them one by one.”
“That hardly seems fair,” said Svetlana, though she managed to laugh a little.
“Fighting fair is a good way to get killed,” said Caina. “This way.”
They walked through the library, and then into the abandoned armory. Caina had left the door to the prison corridor partway open, and she beckoned for Svetlana to move out of sight. The magus nodded and eased against the wall, and Caina peered through the door. The six reveniri had not moved since she had last seen them, and the door to Ilona’s cell remained closed.
“Listen to me,” Caina whispered, and Svetlana nodded. She didn’t know if the reveniri could hear or not, but best not to take any chances. “I’ll take care of the reveniri. Don’t get involved unless it looks like I’m in trouble. Do you have any spells that would be effective against them?”
“One,” said Svetlana. “I know a banishment spell that will send the carrion spirits back to the netherworld, but I can only cast it a few times before I need rest.”
Caina nodded. “Best to conserve your strength, then. I have a friend in one of those cells. Once I deal with the reveniri, we’ll free her, and then we’ll get the hell out of here.”
Svetlana took a deep breath and nodded, and Caina called her valikon again. The blade assembled itself in her hand, and she eased through the door and into the prison corridor. The two reveniri stood motionless on either side of the door, the white light burning in their eyes. Caina had feared that they might sense the valikon, or that they might sense Svetlana’s approach, but the creatures did neither. Perhaps Libavya had not commanded them to watch for Svetlana’s potential escape, trusting in the chains to keep the magus from escaping.
Caina took her valikon’s hilt in both hands and drove the blade into the reveniri on her left. The ghostsilver sword pulsed with white fire, and the reveniri collapsed as the valikon destroyed the carrion spirit within it. She wrenched the blade free and stabbed it into the reveniri on her right, and the creature fell to the floor.
That got the attention of the remaining four reveniri. The carrion spirits might not have been able to detect Caina’s presence, but they could sense when one of them had been destroyed. The four creatures rushed towards the armory door, and Caina moved to the side. They ran past her, and Caina stepped behind them and stabbed. The valikon bit into the back of the nearest reveniri and the white fire destroyed the carrion spirit.
The remaining three creatures spread out around her, realizing that an unseen foe moved among them. Caina stepped away, circled to the left, and destroyed another reveniri. The remaining two creatures turned back and forth, raking their freezing claws through the air, and Caina destroyed one and then the second, sending their bodies to the floor. She looked around, but nothing else moved in the corridor.
She jogged back to the armory door. “Svetlana?”
Svetlana peered through the door, and her green eyes went wide. “You dealt with all of them already? That was quick.”
“A valikon is a useful thing,” said Caina. “Come on.”
Caina walked to the cell door, Svetlana padding after her, and swung it open. Ilona stood against the back wall, blinking.
“Caina?” said Ilona. “You’re unhurt?” Caina nodded and stepped to the side so Ilona could get out of the cell, her elaborate skirts rustling against the doorframe. “And…you found someone else.”
“Svetlana Valcezak, meet Ilona,” said Caina. The two women looked at each other. “It seems that Cazmar Vagastru is hibernating in a glass coffin under the Lord’s Castle, and Libavya wants to resurrect him as her slave and become a vyrkolak. She kept Svetlana as a captive and drew on her power to enhance her spells.”
“Oh,” said Ilona, and then her dark eyes went wide. “Oh! That makes a great deal of sense. That explains everything, doesn’t it?”
“It does,” said Caina. “Now let’s get out of here and explain it all to Basarab so he can arrest Lady Libavya.”
“Libavya won’t let herself be arrested,” said Svetlana. “She’ll fight. She might win, too. She was strong enough to beat my father and the witchfinders, and she has the help of the Temnoti and the reveniri.”
“I’m not the only one who has a valikon,” said Caina, “and we can worry about it once we’re out of here. Follow me.”
She led the way down the corridor, her mind sorting through the next steps. Once they returned to the sanitarium, they would have to escape. Going out through the front doors wouldn’t work since the footmen would see them. For that matter, if Libavya saw Svetlana, that would be disastrous. Libavya would realize that the game was up. Probably the b
est thing to do would be to overpower one of the servants, tie him up, and steal his clothes. That would let them disguise Svetlana as a servant, and for that matter, it would let Svetlana reach Basarab’s Temple without having her fingers and toes drop off from frostbite. It was cold enough that going outside in only a thin shift might prove fatal.
Caina stepped through the door to the pillared hall and stopped.
Ilona cursed, and Svetlana let out a little moan of fear.
Lady Libavya Jordizi stood near the door to the passageway back to the ossuary, her red dress seeming black in the eerie green light. Six of her footmen waited behind her, clubs in hand, and a score of reveniri lined the wall. The Malvashar and two of the Temnoti stood a short distance away, and Caina saw the glow of waiting spells around them.
Libavya stepped forward, green fire crackling around the fingers of her left hand.
“Well,” she said. “The Balarigar herself.”
Chapter 15: Wrath of the Temple
Kylon waited.
He didn’t enjoy waiting, but he was good at it.
After Lady Libavya had unceremoniously ordered them to leave, Kylon had known a split second of indecision. Caina was making her way into the mansion’s cellars, seeking for proof of Libavya’s guilt, and if he and Theodosia and Ilona left her behind, she might be in trouble. Kylon had wanted to find an excuse to stay behind or a reason to go after Caina. Either idea, he knew, was a bad one. If he remained, sooner or later someone would ask his business or realize that he had been with Theodosia, and they would order him to leave. Or, worse, Lady Libavya’s guards would realize that Caina had disappeared, and they would search the mansion for her.
And if Kylon went after Caina, that might bring disaster. A young woman in a serving woman’s dress could move through the mansion without drawing much notice. A man in chain mail with a sword at his belt was something else entirely. If Kylon went after Caina, he might find himself in a fight.
He would have to trust that Caina knew what she was doing. Which she did. Caina had been doing this kind of thing long before she had ever met him. Kylon supposed that most husbands and wives had to trust each other not to waste money, not to break into the mansions of suspected necromancers and come out alive again.
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