Ghost in the Tower

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Pentarion!” said Talmania.

  Before anyone could react, Talmania thrust out her hand, and a blast of psychokinetic force erupted from her, expanding in all directions. It knocked Ariadne, Morgant, Sophia, and Calaver to the floor, and it tore past Caina in a gale, throwing up a cloud of dust. She thrashed as she tried to dig her way free, and she saw Talmania seize the Amulet of Rasarion Yagar, the Ring clinking against it, and cast a spell.

  Pentarion took a step to the side, the twisted aura of power around him pulsing.

  His appearance changed.

  One moment he was a effete-looking young man in the black coat of an Umbarian magus. The next his face ripped itself apart from the inside out, blood gushing down his chest, the muscles and bones snapping and reshaping themselves. The heartbeat after that he was a hideous thing that looked like a cross between a giant insect and a skinned wolf, red and bloody and glistening, fangs filling his distended mouth, his arms like bladed scythes.

  The thing that Pentarion had become surged forward, and Caina feared that he would rip apart the others as they lay stunned. But Pentarion smashed open one of the display cases and screamed in agony as the warding spell discharged into him. In the same instant, Talmania finished her spell, and the emeralds in the Ring and the Amulet shone with an eerie light. Behind her, a translucent doorway appeared, and through the flickering door, Caina saw a corridor of stone, its walls and lofty ceiling covered with strange black veins and twisted growths.

  A corridor within Sigilsoara, the ancient stronghold of the Iron King.

  The Amulet had given Talmania the ability to summon Sigilsoara out of the netherworld. It seemed that the Ring allowed her to refine that power to a far greater degree.

  “Come!” shouted Talmania, and she leaped through the doorway and into the corridor of Sigilsoara. Ariadne surged back to her feet, as did Calaver, both magi casting spells. Kylon heaved himself out of the dirt, showers of sand falling from him, and Caina tried to pull free.

  Pentarion seized the book that had been in the display case, and in one insect-like leap, covered the distance to the strange doorway. The instant he was inside, Talmania gestured with the Amulet, and the doorway vanished, the gate to Sigilsoara closing.

  She was gone, along with Pentarion and the book he had taken from the display case.

  “Caina!” said Kylon, stooping over her. “Are you hurt?”

  “No,” said Caina. Or wheezed, since it was hard to breathe with so much weight on her stomach. “Just stuck.”

  Kylon took her under the arms and pulled, and she both saw and felt the surge of water sorcery around him. He tugged her free from the dirt, and Caina got to her feet, brushing off her coat and trouser legs. The dirt was bone dry, which was just as well since it meant it came off without any trouble. “Is anyone hurt?”

  “No,” said Ariadne. “No, I don’t think so. Just a little shaken up.”

  “What the hell was all that?” said Calaver. His eyes were a little wild. “I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

  “To give you the short version of the story,” said Caina, “Talmania Scorneus has been seeking the relics of the Iron King. She has the Ring and the Amulet of Rasarion Yagar, and I think together they let her control and summon Sigilsoara. She opened a gateway to Sigilsoara and escaped into it.”

  Her mind spun at the implications. If Talmania had control of Sigilsoara, and if she could summon it out of the netherworld – could she use its power to travel? Could she move from Artifel to Risiviri in the space of a few hours instead of days of shipboard travel?

  Could she move armies that way?

  Such a power could change the course of the civil war, and not in a good way.

  “Pentarion,” said Calaver. “What the hell happened to him?”

  “You knew him?” said Kylon, brushing more dust from his trousers.

  “Aye,” said Calaver, his face twisting with disgust. “He was one of my father’s toadies. Hanging on his every word, did quiet jobs for him when the fat old bastard wanted them done. Pentarion disappeared after the civil war started. I figured he either joined the Umbarians or went into hiding. Some of the magi have done that, those who want to keep their heads down until the fighting is over. But I never saw Pentarion do anything like that.” He looked at Morgant. “You, old man. What did you call him?”

  “Rulkavak,” said Morgant. “A skin-changer.”

  “That sounds Ulkaari,” said Calaver.

  “It is Ulkaari,” said Morgant.

  Calaver scoffed. “The Ulkaari are full of superstitious nonsense.” Sophia scowled at that. “All their talk of Temnoti and vyrkolaki and reveniri…”

  “You’ve never been to Ulkaar, have you?” said Kylon.

  “No,” said Calaver. “What’s that to do with anything?”

  “I have,” said Caina, brushing the last of the dirt from her trousers, “and in the last month I’ve seen Temnoti and vyrkolaki and reveniri and even quite a few mavrokhi. What is a rulkavak?”

  “A demon,” said Sophia with a shiver. “A follower of Temnuzash.”

  Calaver scoffed again. “No such thing.”

  “You just saw it with your own damned eyes, didn’t you?” said Kylon.

  Calaver had no response for that.

  “So what is a rulkavak?” said Caina.

  “Well,” said Morgant, “you said you’ve seen Temnoti priests. Damned ugly bastards, aren’t they? When Rasarion Yagar tried to summon Temnuzash, his priests received their promised immortality, but it twisted and warped them into the things they are now. The rulkavaki, though, the skin-changers…they can rearrange their damned guts, rip apart their bodies and make themselves into new shapes. For quick and dirty changes, they turn themselves into things like the form Pentarion just took. If they’ve got enough time to concentrate and work it out, they can make themselves look like anyone.” He grinned. “Useful trick, aye?”

  “I suppose they would make the perfect infiltrators,” said Caina.

  “Except for one thing,” said Morgant. “Valikarion can always see them. Don’t know why, but they can. Or so the old tales say.”

  “Nothing can escape the keen gaze of the Arvaltyri,” agreed Sophia.

  “Maybe,” said Caina. “His aura was all…twisted and malignant. I won’t forget it any time soon, I’m sure of that.”

  “So Pentarion’s a Temnoti priest now?” said Calaver. “Seems unlikely. The little bastard never believed in anything but himself.”

  “Maybe he had a conversion,” said Caina.

  “I wonder what Talmania was doing here,” said Kylon. “It was a peculiar coincidence to find her here just as we are chasing the First Magus.”

  “I think it was just bad luck,” said Ariadne, pointing at the broken display case. “She wanted whatever book was in that case.”

  “You’re right,” said Caina. “Talmania and Pentarion were looking through the display cases when I saw them. She must have come here to find that book.”

  Caina looked at the shattered case. The broken glass and wood lay shattered around the case’s interior, and there was no sign to indicate what book had once rested inside. Caina wished the Cataphract could have been bothered to label his rare books.

  “Whatever she wanted,” said Ariadne, voice grim, “we can’t do anything about it now.”

  “No,” said Caina, and she looked towards the stairs on the far end of the chamber. “We need to keep moving.”

  Chapter 18: An Unfinished Doom

  The stairs ended, and Ariadne looked around.

  This time, the spiral stairwell emerged into a round chamber lined with a dozen Mirrors of Worlds. The Mirrors were small, the size of a single doorway, and their pale gray glow filled the chamber. To her right was an archway that opened into a dark corridor, and a chill wind blew from that corridor, tugging at Ariadne’s hair and robe.

  “There was a fight here, and recently,” said Caina, pointing at the green marble of the floor.

/>   She was right. Ariadne saw scorch marks, and there was a faint scent of ozone in the air that the cold wind hadn’t carried off yet. Someone had used powerful spells in this chamber.

  “It seems Decius and Riona had to fight their way through,” said Kylon.

  Calaver scowled at the scorch marks. “Don’t suppose we’re lucky enough that the phobomorphic spirits or the elementals or whatever killed them.”

  “No,” said Caina. “There’s no blood. And the residual aura of the spells…I think they cast banishment spells here. No, they won the fight.” She pointed at the dark archway. “And the source of power…it’s that way. On this level of the Tower. We’re not far from it now.”

  “Before we go any further,” said Calaver, “what are we going to do when we find the First Magus?”

  “Kill him,” said Markaine, “before he kills us.”

  Ariadne shook her head. “We should give him a chance to surrender first.”

  “He won’t,” said Caina, her face grim. “He murdered five high magi and that serving maid at the Black Mirror to get this far. He won’t stop now, not unless we force him to do it. I know he’s a powerful sorcerer, and Riona has to be strong to deal with him as an equal. We had better strike from concealment and kill them both before they can bring their power to bear.”

  “A compromise, then,” said Ariadne. “I will go alone and try to convince Decius to see reason. You and the others can remain concealed and strike when the moment is right.”

  Caina shook her head. “He isn’t worth your time. Nor is he worth risking your life.”

  “I agree,” said Calaver. “Not that my opinion matters. But the First Magus won’t hesitate to kill you.”

  “Nonetheless,” said Ariadne. “I have to try.” She met Caina’s gaze. “You know why.”

  Caina let out a breath. “All right. We’ll make up our minds when we find him. It won’t matter if he attacks us on sight.”

  Ariadne nodded. She knew that Caina and Calaver and Markaine were right, that it would be better to strike first before Decius and Riona realized that someone had followed them into the Tower of the Cataphract. Yet Ariadne could not bring herself to do it. She had killed in the heat of battle numerous times, but she had killed in cold blood only once, and it had scarred her so badly that she could not bring herself to do it again. She did not regret what she had done to Quartius and his business partners, not after looking into the shattered eyes of the children she had taken from Quartius’s warehouse.

  No, she did not regret it.

  But she would never forget the dead lying on the floor, the cold wine pooling near Quartius’s hand, and she would see it in her dreams for the rest of her days.

  She couldn’t kill Decius in cold blood. She just couldn’t. Ariadne wondered if Caina had agreed to get her to acquiesce but was planning on killing Decius at the first opportunity anyway.

  Maybe that would be for the best.

  “Come,” said Caina, and she led the way to the corridor.

  Only to come to a startled halt a few paces beyond the arch.

  Beyond was a vast, empty void, stretching away in all directions as far as Ariadne could see. It was impossibly huge. It could have held the exterior of the Tower of the Cataphract with ease, perhaps even the Motherhouse itself or the entire city of Artifel. A narrow stone bridge, wide enough for two men to walk abreast, stretched into the void.

  And in the distance, Ariadne saw a cold green light that painted the narrow bridge with an eerie glow.

  The cold wind came from the strange light.

  “Is this more coaxial dimensional folding?” said Caina, looking around the void. Ariadne wondered if her valikarion vision saw things in the darkness.

  “Aye,” said Ariadne. “But I’ve never heard of anything like this.”

  “This Cataphract fellow was a mad genius, that is obvious,” said Markaine. “Guess he figured out a few things the rest of the Magisterium never understood.”

  “Decius would have gone this way,” said Caina.

  She and Kylon strode forward, leading the way along the narrow stone bridge, and Ariadne and the others followed. She kept a careful eye on Calaver. If he wanted to attempt treachery, this would be the perfect place. All he needed was to trip someone, and they would tumble to their deaths in the strange void. Yet Calaver looked grim and wary, his eyes scanning the darkness for any signs of foes.

  “What is this place?” said Calaver. “You’re a high magus, and you have the vision of the valikarion. Between the two of you, you ought to be able to figure it out.”

  “I don’t know,” said Caina. “It’s a piece of the netherworld anchored in the material realm. Stable, but…” She glanced back at Calaver. “Whatever you do, don’t cast any summoning spells.”

  Calaver grunted. “One elemental lord was enough.”

  “That light, though,” said Caina. “I think it’s from a necromantic spell.”

  “Aye,” said Ariadne, and she worked the spell to sense the presence of sorcerous forces. She detected the mighty forces surging around her, the potent spells that had created this strange void and anchored it within the Tower of the Cataphract. She also felt a faint necromantic aura, cold and icy and greasy, but it seemed peculiarly…constrained. Hopefully, it meant that Decius hadn’t claimed the weapon yet, whatever it was. “It’s definitely necromantic. I think the purpose of this void is to isolate the necromantic aura from the rest of the Tower and perhaps the city of Artifel itself.”

  “Then we had better find and destroy the damned thing before Decius gets his hands on it,” said Kylon.

  They kept walking. Ariadne noted that the bridge should have collapsed long ago. It had no visible method of support, and the relative tensile strength of stone meant it should have snapped off from the wall beneath its own weight. Yet the bridge felt steady and firm beneath her boots. The Cataphract had used sorcery in its construction, linking it to the spells that kept the Tower stable. Despite the urgency of their situation, Ariadne felt an intense curiosity to speak with the Cataphract and find out just how he had constructed this place. She found herself imagining the sort of buildings that could be constructed if the Cataphract’s lost sciences were brought into the light once more.

  “Another archway,” said Caina, interrupting Ariadne’s train of thought.

  Ariadne saw that she was right, that the bridge ended in another arch. The green light came from beyond it. Through the archway, Ariadne saw a…

  She blinked, wondering if it was an illusion.

  Was that a forest?

  They reached the end of the narrow bridge and walked through a doorway, and Ariadne looked at one of the strangest places she had ever seen in her life.

  The ground beneath her boots was soil, uneven with roots and covered with a layer of dead leaves. Trees rose from the earth, gnarled and twisted, their leaves a peculiar grayish-green color. The air smelled of leaves and decay, the way a real forest would.

  And yet the ceiling far overhead was vaulted, and massive pillars of worked stone rose from the ground. Ariadne looked left and right, and the forest and the rows of pillars stretched in all directions as far as she could see. The doorway stood behind her, and she saw the void and the narrow bridge beyond. A road of flagstones led into the forest and towards the source of the green glow.

  There was a flash of white light, and Ariadne turned in time to see Caina lift her left arm and push back her sleeve. She wore a delicate bracelet of ghostsilver links around her left wrist, and the metal flashed with a white glow.

  “My lady,” said Sophia. “Your pyrikon.”

  “Pyrikon?” said Calaver, startled. “What, are you a loremaster and a valikarion at the same time?”

  “No,” said Caina. “The pyrikon chose me before I became a valikarion. But it’s reacting to something here.” Her blue eyes darted back and forth. “I think…”

  “The trees,” said Kylon. “They’re spirits in material form.”

  “Wha
t?” said Calaver, lifting his sword and taking an alarmed step back.

  “They are not malicious spirits,” said Kylon. “Most of the spirits of the netherworld are indifferent to humans. But a few of them defend the mortal world. The pyrikons of the loremasters are spirits of defense and vigilance bound within material form. I think…I think these trees are guardian spirits. Defenders.”

  “What are they defending against?” said Ariadne, looking around the strange forest.

  “The aura,” said Caina. Her face looked ghostly in the harsh green light shining from the heart of the forest. “The necromantic aura. It should be far stronger than it is, but those trees are like…like levees. They’re working with that void to keep the aura from flooding through the Tower, maybe even into all of Artifel.” Her lips thinned, her eyes reflecting the eerie light. “I’ve seen an aura like this before…”

  “You know what it is, don’t you?” said Ariadne. She wondered what sort of relic would require such powerful defenses to keep its dark aura contained.

  “I hope not,” said Caina. “By the Divine, I hope I’m wrong.”

  “Ah, but when you really hope you’re wrong, that’s when you turn out to be right,” said Markaine.

  “That’s the gods’ own truth,” said Calaver.

  “We need to hurry,” said Caina, looking at Kylon. “If I’m right, Decius Aberon absolutely cannot have a weapon like this. He’ll destroy Artifel if he tries to use it.”

  Kylon nodded, and he and Caina hurried forward, Ariadne and the others following.

  A strange mixture of emotions went through Ariadne as they followed the winding stone road into the forest, and she was experienced enough with sorcery to recognize that the emotions were artificial, induced by the sorcerous auras around her. The necromantic aura filled her with fear and misgiving, but the feeling lifted as she drew nearer to one of the twisted trees. Caina was right. The trees were absorbing the necromantic aura. Ariadne did a brief calculation and realized that if not for the trees, the aura would have been potent enough to drain the life from any living thing.