The woman was a disturbingly good actress. I wondered if she was fooling me about anything.
“Good morning,” said Caina with a smile. Her accent had changed again. Now she sounded like an upper-class New Yorker, like she should be giving private tours at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
“Hi,” I said. “You look like you’re on your way to close a factory and lay everyone off.”
Her cool smile turned to a grin. “The right clothes for the right occasions. Shall we?”
We went inside, the blast of the air conditioning making me shiver even beneath my heavy coat. The interior of the House was all polished hardwood and black stone, with two levels of balconies rising overhead. The owner herself, a woman in a black T-shirt, pants, and headscarf named Damla, hurried over and greeted Caina enthusiastically. Damla bustled us to the top floor, gave us a booth with a good view of the East River, and hurried away to get our coffee.
“You know her,” I said.
Caina nodded. “I helped her sons out of a jam right after I moved to New York. She’s never forgotten it, and so I use the House when I want a quiet meeting with someone. She’ll make sure no one bothers us.”
Damla returned with our coffee and departed. The coffee was exactly as I had ordered it, strong, black, and bitter, with no cream or sugar.
“We have the same order,” I said.
Caina glanced at me over her sunglasses, smiled, and sipped her coffee. “Coffee should be coffee. If I wanted to drink a cup of sugar syrup, that’s what I’d order.”
Her voice had switched back to the posh Brit accent. I wondered if that was her native pattern of speech.
“A good argument,” I said. I took another sip of the excellent coffee and set the cup down. “So. How do you want to do this?”
“I assume you’ve researched me thoroughly by now,” said Caina, “so I’ll let you go first. You’ve got a question for me.”
“Yeah,” I said. “That sword you can summon, the valikon. What is it?”
She took off her sunglasses and set them on the table. “Do you know what the valikarion are?”
“No. I assume it has something to do with a valikon.”
Caina nodded. “Have you ever wondered how the Elves policed themselves?”
I shrugged. “The High Queen and the nobles bring them up on charges.”
“They all have magic, but some of them have more magic than others,” said Caina. “It’s a lot harder to bring someone like Lord Morvilind or Lord Inquisitor Arvalaeon to bay because they’re so powerful.”
“I’ve heard that,” I said. I didn’t want to tell Caina that I had met both men.
“The word ‘valikarion’ is an ancient Elven term that refers to the bearer of a valikon,” said Caina. “The valikarion were an order of Elven knights dedicated to preventing the abuse of magic. The valikarion can see magical fields and spells. Our minds interpret magical energy as auras and lines of light. Valikarion are immune to any spells that affect the mind, and a valikon sword is immune to any kind of magic and can pierce any defensive spell.”
“Must come in handy,” I said. “Guess that explains how you could see me and why I couldn’t use the mindtouch spell on you.” Caina nodded. “So why haven’t I heard of the valikarion before?”
“Because they went extinct a very long time ago,” said Caina. “To become a valikarion, you have to renounce magic and lose your ability to use it. For someone like me, with no magical ability, that wasn’t a problem. But the Elves are innately magical. Asking them to give up magic is like asking a human to give up one of his senses. Some Elves were willing to do it, but fewer and fewer. Eventually, they died out, the way some Catholic monastic orders died out because no one was willing to take the necessary vows of poverty and chastity. The valikarion are all but forgotten. Hardly any humans know they ever existed, and even among the Elves, only a few people still know of the valikarion.” She shrugged. “As far as I know, I’m the only one, whether human or Elven.”
“Huh,” I said. “So how did you become a valikarion? An online course?”
Her smile was brief. “Against my will and with great pain.”
I could tell she didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe it had something to do with that scar on her stomach.
“You're very open with me,” I said.
Caina took another sip of coffee, and I followed suit.
“Three reasons,” she said. “One, if this goes the way I think it will, you’re going to find out all about me anyway. Two, if that little ‘light show’ last night is any indication of the Congressman’s friends, I’m going to need help finding proof against him. Three, I already know quite a bit about you.”
I scowled. “Suppose you researched me, too.”
Caina shook her head. “No. I just paid attention. Watched the details.”
“That sounds like bullshit,” I said.
Caina set down her coffee cup and leaned closer, the cold blue eyes unblinking. I suddenly felt uneasy under that stare, as if there was nothing I could hide from it.
“You just got married,” she said, her voice quiet, “and you miss your husband terribly. He’s probably out of the country. He’s also a wealthy man, familiar with violence, and one with considerable force of personality. Your magic is much, much stronger than normal for a human, but you learned or obtained that power in highly traumatic circumstances. You exercise a great deal, but have trouble eating, and suffer from chronic insomnia and nightmares.”
My unease increased. All of that was exactly right.
“Oh, bullshit,” I said, trying to hide the unease. “I was on the national news. You just looked me up.”
“I haven’t yet,” said Caina, “and I know all that from talking to you. I’ll prove it.” She pointed at my hand. “Your wedding ring. It’s new, not worn at all. That means you were recently married. You keep touching it because it reminds you of your husband.”
“Okay,” I said. “How did you know he was rich and familiar with violence?”
Caina smiled. “An educated guess after talking with you. You wouldn’t marry any man for whom you had contempt, which means no one weaker than you. You might have married for money, but that would be pointless since if you wanted money, you could just Cloak and steal it. Probably your husband is a confident man who is either in the Wizard’s Legion or an independent mercenary contractor of some kind. As for the fact that he’s rich, your coat is new, and it’s an expensive brand. Your shoes aren’t new, and they’re fairly worn. The logical inference is that he bought the coat for you, and its cost didn’t concern him.”
“And the nightmares and insomnia?” I said, voice quiet.
“It’s nine in the morning, and it’s already eighty degrees out, but you’re wearing a sweater and a pea coat,” said Caina. “Wizards sometimes suffer from a form of PTSD where they keep drawing on their magic and make themselves cold. Combined with your powerful magic, that is the obvious conclusion. Nightmares and insomnia are also a common symptom of PTSD.” She sighed. “I hate to say it, but your bloodshot eyes and the dark circles beneath them are additional evidence for that. You also look rather underweight, which means you have trouble eating. I don’t know whether it’s connected to your other difficulties or not, but it seems likely. Then again, it could just be bad gut bacteria.” She shrugged. “How much did I get right?”
“Most of it,” I said, staring into my coffee. “You’re a very dangerous woman.”
“Yes,” said Caina. “I do apologize. I always regret unsettling people like that.”
“No, you don’t,” I said.
She smiled. “It never hurts to be polite.” Her smile faded. “You asked me a question, and I need to ask you one in turn.”
“Go ahead.”
Caina sipped coffee. “What do you know about necromancy?”
I shuddered, remembering my fights with the myothar and Vastarion. “Bad business.”
“You’ve encountered it, then?” said Caina.
“A couple of times,” I said. “It’s...a kind of magic based off death and stealing life energy. The myothar use it a lot. So do some other races.” I thought of the naelgoth cairns I had seen in the Shadowlands. “The Elves, for the most part, hate it and refuse to have anything to do with it. Even the Archons found it loathsome and wouldn’t use it.”
“It’s their nature,” said Caina. “The Elves are more attuned to magic to humans, and they regard necromancy as...something obscene. A grotesque perversion. The way humans would regard deliberate self-mutilation.” I nodded. “But some Elves do use it. There was a renegade Elven necromancer named Vastarion...”
I blinked. “Vastarion?”
“You know him?” said Caina.
“You could say that,” I said. “I killed him a few weeks before the battle of New York.”
Her eyebrows climbed halfway up her forehead. “Seriously? We thought he had disappeared, or that he had been killed in Venomhold.”
I shook my head. “No. I killed him.”
“How did you do it?” said Caina. “He was powerful.”
“Quickly,” I said. “Also thoroughly. Like you said, Vastarion was powerful, and I didn’t want him getting back up again.”
“That’s a good way to do it. Anyway, you know I work for Ghost Securities,” said Caina. “Our...client hired us to expose and ruin Sulzer. The customer knows that Vastarion came to Earth multiple times and visited Sulzer and that Sulzer paid Vastarion multiple times for something.”
“Jeez,” I said. “Consorting with Archons and Rebels is bad enough. But a necromancer? If that gets out, there’s no way Sulzer can escape. Homeland Security will take him down.”
“If Sulzer has a necromancer on his staff, or if he’s a necromancer himself, we’ll need more than Homeland Security to take him down,” said Caina, voice quiet. “You saw those specters. Bullets wouldn’t work on them. They would tear through an entire Homeland Security precinct in about five minutes. We’d need the Inquisition, or maybe the Wizard’s Legion to deal with someone like him.”
“If we get the right evidence,” I said, “I know people who can act on it. People who can call in heavy hitters like the Wizard’s Legion.”
“As do I,” said Caina. “I would like your help with this. You’re the only human I’ve ever met who can cast Masking and Cloaking spells, at least legally. The mirroring case on Sulzer’s phone gave us several leads, but it will take time to follow them up.”
“What do you have in mind?” I said.
“Sulzer or his necromancer must have a base somewhere,” said Caina. “A place where Sulzer or his friends can practice necromancy without anyone disturbing them. Probably someplace close to the river where they can dispose of corpses. If we can find that place and link it to Sulzer, he’s finished.”
“He’s a rich guy,” I said. “He has a lot of different properties and corporations.”
“With your help, sorting through them will go a lot faster,” said Caina. “What do you say?”
“All right,” I said. “Let’s finish our coffee, and then go take down a Congressman.”
“Thank you, Miss Moran,” said Caina, lifting her cup.
I hesitated. My initial impulse was to tell Caina that it was actually Mrs. MacCormac, but I stopped myself. She was so observant that I didn’t want to tell her anything more about me than necessary.
“Call me Nadia,” I said. “It’s quicker to say.”
***
Chapter 5: Server Room
After they finished their coffee, Caina volunteered to drive, and Nadia agreed.
“So, if you’re the branch director for a private security company, why don’t you have a nicer car?” said Nadia, looking at the blue four-door Lone Star Motors sedan that Caina had driven to the House of Agabyzus. The car had seen both a hundred and fifty thousand miles and better days.
“No one pays any attention to an unremarkable car,” said Caina, unlocking the doors. The interior was upholstered in an inoffensive shade of industrial gray. “Also, it’s a lot easier to get into the parking spots here with a car like this. You need to have the hands of a neurosurgeon to fit into some of them.”
Nadia snorted. “True enough.” She settled into the passenger seat, wrapping her coat around her even though it was hot in the car. “Do you mind if we stop by my SUV first? I need to feed some more quarters into the meter.”
“No problem,” said Caina.
She drove to the SUV, and Nadia hopped out and dumped another handful of quarters into the parking meter. Once that was done, Caina set off for the Ghost Securities office in Queens, Nadia riding in the passenger seat. Nadia, Caina noted, was a bit twitchy. At first, Caina thought she had drunk too much coffee, but then Caina realized the other woman simply could not relax. She never stopped looking for danger, her eyes wary, and she glanced at every passing vehicle and every pedestrian as if they were potential threats.
Whatever had happened to Nadia Moran to make her so powerful, it had left its scars upon her.
But Caina knew all about scars, didn’t she?
“So,” said Nadia, staring out the window. “How does a valikarion wind up working as a private investigator?”
Caina hid a smile. No, Nadia wasn’t a fool. She might have been twitching, but her brain was still working.
“Technically, I’m a branch director, not a private investigator,” said Caina.
“I don’t suppose too many branch directors wait tables while wearing skin-tight shorts and tank tops,” said Nadia. “Though given that most private investigators are middle-aged men, maybe we should be grateful for that.”
Caina laughed aloud, and Nadia grinned at her.
“Thank God for small favors,” said Caina as they came to yet another red light. “If you must know, my mother fell in with the Rebels, and she murdered my father and tried to murder me. It...didn’t quite take. My predecessor recruited me when I was barely a teenager, and I’ve done this kind of thing ever since.”
“Alexander Halfdan,” said Nadia.
Caina blinked. Yes, Nadia had done her homework.
“That’s right,” said Caina. “I’ve been with the company ever since he found me. Formally since I’ve turned sixteen, though I lied about my age and said I was eighteen.”
“Mmm,” said Nadia. “I’m sorry about your parents. Mine died when I was a child.” She blinked and straightened up. “Is your office near the JFK airport?”
“Actually, yes,” said Caina.
“God, that must be annoying,” said Nadia. “All that traffic.”
“Sometimes,” said Caina. “It does come in handy, though.”
A few minutes later, they reached the New York branch office of Ghost Securities. It was a former warehouse and still looked like a warehouse from the outside, dull gray cinder blocks topped with a corrugated metal roof. A chain-link fence encircled the warehouse yard, twelve feet tall and crowned with barbed wire, and various vehicles were parked outside. Caina pulled up to the gate, waved her keycard before the scanner, and the gate slid open. She pulled into the manager’s spot and shut off the engine.
The heat struck her like a fist when she got out of the car. September 1st, and it was still this hot. Black clothes had been a poor choice today, but Caina was grateful that her suit was so light.
“Your own private little fortress here?” said Nadia, looking around.
“Sometimes, if necessary,” said Caina. “This way, please.”
Nadia followed her to an unmarked metal door in the cinder block wall. Caina unlocked it with her keycard and opened it to reveal a comfortable reception area. A blue carpet covered the floor, and chairs lined the walls. A large desk stood against the back wall, and a scowling middle-aged man in a blue Ghosts Securities uniform sat behind it, glaring at a display of camera feeds. He had thick, scarred hands, and a rough face with an oft-broken nose.
“Good morning, Director,” said the man, looking over Nadia.
�
�Morning, Desmond,” said Caina. “Any messages?” She gestured at Nadia. “She’s with me.”
“Bunch of messages, but they’re all on your office computer,” said Desmond. He squinted at Nadia. “She’ll need a visitor’s badge.”
“Gosh, I feel so special,” said Nadia.
Caina took the offered badge and gave it to Nadia, who clipped it to the lapel of her coat.
“Also, Strake’s been looking at that phone you gave her,” said Desmond. Nadia’s gaze swung back to him. “I don’t think she’s left the server room since.”
“I’ll talk to her in a few minutes,” said Caina. She looked at Nadia. “Strake’s my cybersecurity expert, and I’ve got her looking at the phone we discussed. I just need to stop by my office to pass some messages, and then we’ll talk to her.”
Nadia gestured. “Lead the way.”
Caina nodded to Desmond, stepped behind his desk, and opened the door. The hallway beyond was uncarpeted, polished concrete, the walls built of cinder blocks, with more steel doors every few yards. Caina walked to her office door and unlocked it.
“Have a seat,” said Caina, pulling open the door. “Help yourself to coffee if you want some. This will just be a minute.”
Her office was fairly large (rank had some privileges), though she had never gotten around to furnishing it properly. Her desk was a plastic folding table that supported a trio of flatpanel monitors and a pair of computer towers. One complete wall held shelves stuffed with as many books as Caina could fit onto them. The other wall held cabinets storing weapons, ammunition, clothing, and equipment, and a battered little table that held her coffee maker.
“That is a lot of books,” said Nadia, who did not sit down.
Caina seated herself at her computer, unlocked it, and started sorting through her messages. “Everyone needs a hobby.”
Nadia started looking at the books, and Caina scrolled through her messages. There weren’t too many, which was good. The investigation of Sulzer had taken up all her time for the last two weeks, and she was relieved that nothing major had come up. There were a few minor administrative matters, and she signed off on them. One of the hospitals in the Bronx that the company provided security for was having personnel problems again, so Caina directed the site manager to fire whoever he thought best. Kardamnos Memorial Hospital was notoriously picky about their employees.
Cloak & Ghost: Blood Ring Page 6
