Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 09 - Ghost in the Surge Read online

  “Very small,” said Caina, “given that I have a centuries-old assassin and a body-changing necromancer coming to kill me. And that the Moroaica is about to complete her great work.”

  “Do you think Ryther was telling the truth?” said Halfdan.

  “I don’t see why not,” said Caina. “He thought I was going to die. And I would have, too, if he had been a little smarter and kept me out of reach of the shelves.”

  “This is a serious threat,” said Halfdan, “if the Moroaica is truly preparing her great work, and it’s damned inconvenient timing.”

  “Why?” said Caina.

  “Because,” said Halfdan, “in a few days the Emperor is leaving Malarae to visit New Kyre and make peace with the Assembly.”

  Corvalis blinked in surprise, and silence hung over the dining room for a moment.

  “How?” said Caina at last. “I thought Lord Corbould was determined to destroy New Kyre, and he had persuaded the Emperor.”

  “I am very persuasive,” said Halfdan, “and I had a better argument on my side. Specifically, the conversation you had with Lord Kylon of House Kardamnos in Calvarium. Lord Corbould could convince the Anshani to stop selling grain to the Kyracians, aye. But if he did…”

  “If he did,” said Caina, remembering the warning Kylon had given her. “If he did, the Kyracian stormsingers would use their sorcery to alter the weather over the Empire, to stop the rain and cause a famine.”

  She wondered if Kylon had been able to cure his betrothed with the blue bloodcrystal from the ruins of Caer Magia.

  “And if we drove the stormsingers to that,” said Halfdan, “then it would be war without end. The Emperor would have no choice but to destroy New Kyre. To do that, the Legions would need to cross Anshan, which would mean war with the Shahenshah. The Istarish would join the war, as would the city-states near Catekharon, and the barbarians north of the Imperial Pale and the horse nomads south of Anshan would surely take part in the chaos. Uncounted thousands would die in the famines, and thousands more in the fighting.”

  “I can see how you persuaded the Emperor to your view,” said Caina.

  “It helped that Lord Titus Iconias agreed with me,” said Halfdan. “Kylon of House Kardamnos helped save his life in Catekharon, you will recall, and he therefore has a somewhat higher opinion of the Kyracians than Lord Corbould.” He rubbed his face, and for a moment he looked more tired than Caina had ever seen him. “We persuaded the Emperor to seek peace with New Kyre. Lord Titus agreed to serve as his emissary, and Kylon and the Lord Speaker Tiraedes negotiated on behalf of the Assembly of New Kyre. They exchanged letters back and forth using smugglers.”

  “Did they reach an agreement?” said Corvalis.

  “They did,” said Halfdan. “The Assembly will admit the attack upon Marsis was unprovoked, and pay a small indemnity to the Emperor for the next five years. In exchange, the Emperor will persuade the Padishah to open the Starfall Straits to Kyracian trade once more, and travel to New Kyre to formally sign the pact.”

  Caina frowned. “Does not the defeated party traditionally visit the victor’s capital?”

  “He does,” said Halfdan, “but the journey is a concession on the Emperor’s part. The Kyracians are paying an indemnity and admitting fault. The Emperor’s visit to New Kyre is a concession that allows the Assembly to save face. Perhaps that is for the best. This war benefits no one. New Kyre might have destroyed the Emperor’s western fleet, but the Assembly cannot possibly conquer the Empire. They could not even conquer Marsis. It is within the Empire’s strength to destroy New Kyre, but the cost would beggar the Empire and bring famine to two-thirds of the provinces.”

  “The war has been a waste,” said Caina. “Andromache started it under false pretenses, for her own power and aggrandizement. And even that was a lie. The Moroaica and Sicarion deceived her and led her to destruction. Many men have died for nothing.”

  “If all goes well,” said Halfdan, “we can put an end to it before the month is out.” He sat up straighter. “I feared the reports of slavers in Varia Province meant the Istarish were reentering the war, or that a faction in the Assembly was conspiring against the peace. But it was Ranarius’s vendetta against you, not a plot from the Assembly or the Padishah.”

  “Then that means,” said Caina, “our task is to ensure the Emperor reaches New Kyre safely, concludes the peace, and returns to Malarae.”

  “You understand,” said Halfdan. “Tomorrow we will board one of Lord Titus’s smuggler ships and sail to New Kyre. We should arrive before the Emperor and his escort. We must make certain the Emperor completes the treaty with the Assembly and returns to Malarae, and we must ensure the Assembly and the Archons are safe as well. If the Emperor is assassinated, or one of the Archons, war is inevitable.”

  “Who wants to kill the Emperor?” said Corvalis.

  Halfdan shrugged. “It would be easier to recite the people who do not wish him dead. Factions among the Imperial nobility wish to continue the war. The Magisterium wants to continue the war for reasons of its own, and your father has tried to have the Emperor assassinated for years, though he’s always been clever enough to keep his hands clean.”

  Corvalis scowled. “He always did like to recruit others to do his dirty work.”

  “And among the Kyracians, I am sure there are fools who want to unleash a famine across the Empire, who think that New Kyre could survive the resultant war,” said Halfdan. “They would have everything to gain from killing the Emperor. Or one of their own Archons, for that matter. The Ghost circle in New Kyre will aid us, but you see the magnitude of the task.”

  Corvalis nodded. “Well, you never summon us for easy work.”

  “I can’t come,” said Caina.

  Both men looked at her.

  “Why not?” said Halfdan.

  “You heard what I said,” said Caina. “Sicarion and Ranarius are hunting for me. They are coming to kill me…and they will kill anyone who gets in their way. Ranarius butchered all those people in Mornu just to draw me there. He won’t hesitate to kill the Emperor to get at me, and neither will Sicarion. If I go with you, I will endanger the Emperor and anyone near him.”

  “The Emperor is in danger simply from the fact that he is the Emperor,” said Halfdan. “And I need your help, Caina. I have nightfighters that are better with blades and bows, but none as clever and observant as you.”

  “I think you overstate my abilities,” said Caina. “And Ranarius and Sicarion will not scruple at any crime to get at me. The best thing I can do, I think, is go alone and lure them into a trap in an isolated place. Away from anyone else they could hurt.”

  Corvalis frowned. “Certainly you will not do it alone.”

  “It’s for the best,” said Caina. “Sicarion and Ranarius both want you dead. If you…”

  Corvalis started to argue, but Halfdan’s quiet voice cut him off.

  “Actually,” said Halfdan, “you could cut your throat right now, and the Emperor would be in just as much danger from the Moroaica’s servants.”

  “Why?” said Caina.

  “Because,” said Halfdan, “I suspect the Moroaica will cast her great work in New Kyre.”

  “Why New Kyre?” said Caina. “Why not Marsis or Malarae?”

  “I don’t know,” said Halfdan. “We don’t even know what this ‘great work’ of hers is, properly speaking, a spell or a ritual or something else, only that she means to remake the world and wage war upon the gods.”

  “But how do you know it is going to be in New Kyre?” said Caina.

  “You met the Order of the Venatorii in Calvarium?” said Halfdan.

  “I did.” Caina felt herself scowl. “They thought I was the Moroaica and tried to kill me. But I do not think we could have overcome Rhames and Maena without their help.”

  “The high circlemasters of the Ghosts have dealt with the Venatorii in the past,” said Halfdan. “But until you met Talekhris, we never knew that he had founded them to oppose the M
oroaica. And it is well you did. I have received a message from Talekhris and the Order.”

  “You have?” said Caina, surprised. The Ghosts were the eyes and ears of the Emperor, but the Order of the Venatorii hunted sorcerous predators and corrupt sorcerers. The Venatorii cared little for politics, and nothing at all for the war between the Empire and New Kyre. “What did he say?”

  “That he believed the Moroaica will cast her great work in New Kyre within weeks,” said Halfdan, “and that he has found a way to kill the Moroaica.”

  Caina blinked, unsure that she had heard correctly.

  “Truly?” she said. “To kill her permanently? She will not be able to take another body?”

  The creature known as the Moroaica had once been a timid, frightened girl named Malifae. The dark necromancy of ancient Maat had twisted her, transforming her into one of the Undying, to serve as the concubine of an undead pharaoh for all time. But the pharaoh had also been buried with a complete library of the sorcery of the Great Necromancers of Maat, and Malifae had been studious. She had destroyed the pharaoh and freed herself from the tomb, and then razed the Kingdom of the Rising Sun in vengeance for what had happened to her murdered father. But that was not enough. She was undead, her free will gone and her heart frozen, and she had continued her quest for vengeance across the millennia, finally deciding to make the gods pay for the sufferings of mankind.

  So the spirit of Horemb, the Moroaica’s long-dead father, had told Caina.

  “Yes,” said Halfdan. “Talekhris claims to have found a way to destroy her at last, a way that will keep her from ever taking a new body.”

  Corvalis snorted. “I don’t suppose the letter happened to say how to do it?”

  “No,” said Halfdan. “But apparently the Moroaica becomes vulnerable during the casting of her great work. Talekhris claimed he would tell me more when he met with us in person. He will arrive tonight and meet us here, accompanied by Harkus of the Venatorii. And then,” he spread his hands, “and then we shall see.”

  Caina said nothing.

  “When Ranarius and Sicarion find you,” said Halfdan, “you will have a better chance with aid at your side. Talekhris’s sorcery is mighty.”

  “It hasn’t stopped Sicarion from killing him twice,” said Caina.

  “No,” said Halfdan, “but consider. The Moroaica did not send her servants after you out of spite. She sent them to stop you.”

  “She fears you,” said Corvalis. “She was inside your head for nearly a year. She knows you…and she knows that you can stop her.”

  “I could command you, but I won’t,” said Halfdan. “I trust your judgment. But the end is coming, Caina. We can stop the war with New Kyre. And if Talekhris is right, we can finally stop the Moroaica, put an end to all the evil she has worked over the millennia.”

  Caina bowed her head. She had seen Jadriga’s rage firsthand, the bottomless fury of the creature that had once been Malifae. Jadriga would stop at nothing to destroy those she blamed for the suffering of mankind. She would declare war upon the gods themselves, and her failure might burn the world to ash.

  But Caina thought of the butchered slaves in Nisias Druzen’s mansion, the men and women and children killed to get at her.

  Yet if Caina did nothing, the war would continue and kill far more men and women and children.

  And if the Moroaica finished her great work, the entire world would burn.

  “Very well,” said Caina. “You’re right, both of you. I will come with you to New Kyre.”

  “Good,” said Halfdan with a smile. He got to his feet. “I will need to meet with the captain of our ship, a smuggler named Maltaer…”

  “Maltaer?” said Caina.

  “You know him?”

  “Aye, I met him in Rasadda, years ago,” said Caina. “Though he shouldn’t recognize me. I was wearing my mask and shadow-cloak at the time.”

  Halfdan nodded. “Both Lord Titus and the Speaker of the Assembly trusted him enough to keep his mouth shut. Though he was paid enough to do it.” He glanced out the window. “It is earlier than I thought. Let us have some of Zorgi’s fine fare, and then I will find Maltaer and tell him to prepare for our departure. I would prefer to take Corvalis with me, if you don’t mind. The alleys of Marsis’s dockside district are a dangerous place.”

  Corvalis snorted. “Have I no say in the matter?”

  Halfdan laughed. “Since your heart plainly belongs to her, no.”

  “It’s fine,” said Caina to Corvalis. “Go with him. I will stay here and keep watch for Talekhris and Harkus. I know them both on sight.”

  “And if Sicarion and Ranarius come for you while we’re gone?” said Corvalis.

  “Then I will run very fast,” said Caina. “And far enough that no one else dies on my account…”

  “Those deaths in Mornu,” said Halfdan, “were not your fault.”

  Caina scowled. “They died because of me. Ranarius killed them to get at me.”

  “He did,” said Halfdan, “but their blood is on his hands, not yours. You’ve seen deaths before.”

  “I know,” said Caina. “But…not like this. Never people killed simply to get at me. To turn them into bait for me.” She raked a hand through her hair. “This has never been about me.”

  “If you make enough enemies,” said Halfdan, “sooner or later they make the fight about you. And you, my dear, have saved so many lives and defeated so many foes that you have acquired some powerful enemies.”

  Caina nodded.

  “And the best way to avenge those deaths,” said Halfdan, “is to make sure Sicarion and Ranarius pay for what they have done.”

  “You’re right,” said Caina. She paced to the window. “But those people, Halfdan…they weren’t enemies of the Empire, or slaves, or soldiers. They just got in the way. And Ranarius killed them for it.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “You’re right. The Moroaica and the others. They have to be stopped. The war has to be stopped.”

  Again she wanted desperately to go to Malarae, to go home. Last year she had wondered if she had been a Ghost nightfighter for too long, if it wasn’t time to step back. Now she knew it in her bones. She wanted to return to Malarae, to run the House of Kularus, and leave death and fighting behind.

  But not before the war ended.

  And not before the Moroaica was stopped.

  “I regret many things in my life,” said Halfdan, “but there is one decision I have never regretted.”

  He picked up wrapped bundle from beneath the table, a cloth-wrapped pole about eight feet long.

  “When we found you eleven years ago,” said Halfdan, “I almost gave you to the temple of Minaerys, or to one of the noble families friendly to the Ghosts.” He started to unwrap the bundle. “I only made up my mind to have you become a nightfighter at the last minute. But I have never regretted it. You stopped Maglarion, you defeated Kalastus, and you have saved more lives than I could count.”

  He pulled away the cloth, and Caina saw that he held a spear.

  A spear with a ghostsilver head, its wooden haft scorched. With a shock of memory Caina remembered driving that spear into Maglarion’s great bloodcrystal, remembered the ancient necromancer’s screams of rage and fear.

  “The ghostsilver spear,” said Caina.

  “Aye,” said Halfdan. “If we are to face the Moroaica, a weapon resistant to sorcery will be useful.”

  “Better let Corvalis wield it,” said Caina. “I’m not skilled with a spear.”

  Halfdan nodded and passed the spear to Corvalis, who took it, tested its balance, and grunted in approval.

  “And, Halfdan?” said Caina. “Thank you.”

  He smiled. “You are welcome. Now let us eat. There is no sense facing mortal peril on an empty stomach.”

  Chapter 5 - Death Warrant

  Ark and Muravin walked into the House of Kularus.

  Five levels of balconies rose from the central floor, filled with merchants and nobles drinking c
offee and conversing in low voices. The scent of roasting coffee and baking cakes filled the air, and the soft murmur of conversation reached Ark’s ears.

  “I do not see the others,” said Muravin.

  “They won’t be on the main floor,” said Ark. “Too public.”

  Most of Malarae knew the House of Kularus as Malarae’s only coffee house, owned by Anton Kularus, a Szaldic mercenary formerly in Lord Titus’s employ. Kularus had helped save the Sages of Catekharon and Lord Titus’s embassy from Mihaela’s mad plot, and in exchange, the Sages had rewarded Kularus with a supply of coffee beans. Kularus had used the beans to found Malarae’s only coffee house, and had quickly become a wealthy and respected man.

  Ark knew the real story.

  “Anton Kularus” was only the alias used by Corvalis Aberon, the former Kindred assassin Caina had taken as a lover. Caina had defeated Mihaela in Catekharon, and had asked for the coffee beans and the freedom of one slave as a reward. With those beans, she had started the House of Kularus, using Corvalis as a public face…and the nobility and merchants of Malarae gathered in the coffee house to drink and scheme, as they did in Anshan and Istarinmul.

  And as they did, the Ghosts were there to listen.

  The slave Caina had freed in Catekharon hurried over. He was of Anshani birth, short with dusky skin and thick black hair. He wore a black jacket over a black shirt and pants, and despite his timid posture, Ark had heard the little man barking orders to his cooks and maids like a Lord Commander leading his Legion in the field.

  “Master Arcion, Master Muravin, welcome,” said Shaizid. The manager looked anxious. “Is there…is there any news of Mistress Sonya?”

  “None,” said Ark.

  “These things I have heard, they cannot be true,” said Shaizid. “Mistress Sonya would never do such things. If not for her, I would still be a slave in Catekharon.”

  “I don’t think she did, and I mean to prove it,” said Ark. “Where are the others?”

  “In the cellar, awaiting you,” said Shaizid. “This way, please. The others just arrived from Caeria Ulterior.”