Cloak & Ghost: Lost Gate

by Moeller, Jonathan

  “Mmm,” I said. “Is this a job for the High Queen?”

  “Somewhat,” said Caina. I started pacing. I kind of wanted to sit down, but I was drenched in sweat, and I didn’t want to stain the couches. “Andromache Kardamnos asked for my help, but the High Queen would like the situation resolved quietly.”

  “I don’t,” I said. “I don’t really want to get involved.”

  “Someone at the hospital is summoning a Shadowlands creature that is attacking newborn infants,” said Caina.

  I didn’t say anything. I remembered the battle of New York, all those rows of school buses parked on the street where I had killed Nicholas. All those children who would have burned if the Sky Hammer had detonated. I didn’t have kids and was indifferent to the prospect of having them (and since Riordan was a Shadow Hunter, it probably wasn’t going to happen), but something about someone threatening a kid just pissed me off. Like when the Elven necromancer Vastarion had threated to take Alexandra Ross’s baby, and I had responded by shooting a blast of magical fire through the top half of his skull.

  Yeah. That kind of pissed off.

  “Fine,” I said. “I’m not promising anything, but I’ll hear you out. You want to meet up and talk about it?”

  “Yes. Can you make the House of Agabyzus by noon?” said Caina.

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten now. I had slept in, which was a luxury after all those jobs for Morvilind that required rising at the crack of dawn. Riordan had been up before me and had gotten his own workout in before I used the gym. Anyway, morning rush hour was over, and it would be easy to get to the House of Agabyzus in Red Hook without much trouble.

  “I can,” I said. “You’re buying the coffee, though.”

  “That seems only fair,” said Caina. “Thank you, Nadia. I’ll see you soon.”

  She ended the call.

  I grimaced at my phone, sighed, and looked at Riordan.

  “That sounded serious,” he observed. He had eyes the color of expensive bookcases, and they regarded me now.

  “Might be,” I said. “You remember that woman I told you about? Caina Amalas?”

  “The regional director of Ghost Securities,” said Riordan.

  “She wants my help with something,” I said. “A problem at Kardamnos Memorial Hospital. Apparently, there’s a Shadowlands creature preying on infants there.”

  Riordan frowned. “If that’s true, then the hospital should go to their Elven noble. Baron Thronaris, I think. He’s not incompetent, and he would deal with it. And if the Baron doesn’t want to handle it or isn’t able to handle it, he could always call in the Shadow Hunters.” He smiled. “We have very reasonable rates for this sort of thing.”

  “Caina said that the High Queen wants the situation dealt with quietly,” I said. “Guess that makes sense. Everyone in New York’s still on edge after the battle. I suppose if word got around that some monster was killing babies in the hospital, it would cause a panic. People might start fighting to get the last case of bottled water at the store or something.”

  “Bottled water?”

  “I saw that on the news once.”

  “I think that’s for hurricanes,” said Riordan. “Are you going to help her?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I’m probably going to. I’ll at least hear her out.” I shrugged. “She did save my life when Sulzer’s undead came after us.”

  “Yes,” said Riordan. A bit of shadow went over his face. I wondered what was wrong, and then realized I had spoken casually about nearly getting killed. I was still new to the whole business of being married, and still adjusting to the idea that there was someone who cared, a lot, what happened to me.

  “I did some research about the valikarion,” said Riordan. He set his closed laptop aside. “After you told me about that business with Sulzer.”

  I frowned. “I couldn’t find out anything about them.”

  “The library of the Family has some information sources that aren’t available to the general public,” said Riordan. “Including some volumes of Elven history. I found an account of the valikarion in one of those books. They were an order of Elven knights who policed the abuse of magic, and their abilities match what you told me about Caina.” Riordan shrugged. “They eventually died out because the Elves have to cut themselves off from magic to become valikarion, and too few of them were willing to do that.”

  “But for someone like Caina who doesn’t have magic,” I said, “that’s no big deal.” Though Caina said she had become a valikarion through great pain. “I wonder why the High Queen doesn’t make more of them.”

  “Because Caina could kill any Elven noble she wanted,” said Riordan. “That sword of hers could tear through any warding spell. Imagine if a dozen valikarion had sided with Connor.”

  “Ugh,” I said. “Hey, can we continue this conversation in the kitchen? I’m really thirsty.” I grinned. “Bet I stink, too.”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything,” said Riordan in a dry voice. He got up and followed me to the kitchen, which frankly was the nicest kitchen I had ever used. I poured myself a glass of water, drank it, filled up another one, and then leaned against the counter so I could look at Riordan. Well, look up at him, since he was a lot taller than I was.

  “So, uh,” I said. “We were talking. Valikarion.”

  “Based on what you’ve told me,” said Riordan, “she really is a valikarion. I’ve never met anyone who could see through a Cloak spell.”

  “Neither have I,” I said. “Nasty shock, let me tell you. And Caina was clever enough to not let it show until she could surprise me.”

  “Do you trust her?” said Riordan.

  “I think so,” I said. I drained off another glass of water. “At least when something like this is concerned. Caina doesn’t like human wizards at all, but she does a good job of keeping it under wraps.” I finished off the glass of water and put it in the sink. Drinking all the water had caused fresh sweat to break out on my face and chest. “But I’ll meet her and hear her out.”

  “I would like to come with you,” said Riordan.

  “Why?” I said. “I can take care of myself.”

  I felt bad as soon as I said it. I could take care of myself…except when I couldn’t. And Riordan had gone to great lengths, even insane lengths, to protect me.

  “I know you can,” said Riordan. “You’re clever and good at what you do. But you’re not infallible, Nadia. No one is. And if there’s going to be trouble, someone should watch your back.”

  “That’s a good point,” I said. “That’s a really good point.”

  “And if there is some Shadowlands creature loose in the hospital,” said Riordan, “then it is my business, regardless of what Miss Amalas thinks. That’s what the Family does. When things from the Shadowlands get to Earth and start preying on people, we find them and stop them.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Yeah, you do. And you’re good at it. All right. We’ll go together.” I smiled. “I kept thinking we should go to the House of Agabyzus together, and we’ll finally get to do it. And it will be good to have you along. Having a big scary guy with me might throw Caina off her stride.”

  Riordan lifted his eyebrows. “Should I be insulted?”

  “It’s a compliment. Calling a guy big and scary is like calling a woman pretty,” I said. “I mean, I think you’d be offended if I called you small and unintimidating. Anyway.” I leaned up and gave him a kiss. “I’m going to go shower and get ready. Then we can find out what Caina wants.”

  “If you really wanted to throw her off her stride,” said Riordan, “you could show up in your gym clothes.”

  I laughed. “I don’t want to throw Caina off her stride that badly. I’d have to smell myself for the next three hours.”

  But a grim feeling settled over me as I undressed and got into the shower.

  The last time I’d met Caina, I’d been attacked by a small army of undead creatures, and then wound up fighting a
human necromancer and one of the few remaining Archon Elves.

  What was going to happen this time?

  ***

  Chapter 5: Handshake Deals

  Caina walked to the doors of the House of Agabyzus a few minutes before noon.

  She had been uncertain of what to wear and had settled on jeans, a T-shirt, a leather jacket to ward off the growing autumn chill, and a ball cap, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. A little informal, but Nadia already knew who and what Caina really was. It was a cloudy, gray day, the heat of the summer fading its way to autumn.

  The coffeehouse was a big building of brick and glass not far from the East River, and booths on the second floor had a great view of the harbor, the East River, and the Statue of Liberty and Governor’s Island in the distance. A broad terrace with tables and chairs stretched before the main doors, and on the terrace was a life-size bronze statue of Baron Kaldmask of Brooklyn in a heroic pose, his face stern and his cloak streaming dramatically behind him.

  Caina had met the Baron a few times, and he looked much less impressive in person. For that matter, Caina didn’t think that Kaldmask had ever looked as benevolent as his statue. Still, the owner of the coffee house was one of the Turkish refugees Kaldmask had resettled in Brooklyn, and her devotion to the Baron was absolute.

  Caina walked to the front door and stepped inside. The interior of the House was all polished hardwood and black stone, with two levels of balconies rising overhead. A woman in black trousers, a black T-shirt, and a black headscarf stood near the door, frowning at the service counter. She was somewhere in her late thirties, with bronze-colored skin and dark eyes. Her frown vanished when she saw Caina, and her eyes lit up.

  “Good morning, Damla,” said Caina.

  Damla grinned at her. “It is good to see you, Caina.” Caina had helped Damla’s two sons out of a serious problem a few weeks after she had arrived in New York, and they had been friends ever since. “Are you meeting someone here?”

  “Yes,” said Caina, looking around. She didn’t see any sign of Nadia. “A shorter woman, brown hair. Probably scowling like she just took a bite out of a lemon.”

  “Pity,” said Damla.

  Caina blinked. “Why is that a pity? I always take business here.”

  Damla smiled. “I keep hoping you will walk through my door on the arm of some dashing man.”

  Caina laughed. “My work…really doesn’t leave me time for such things.” About a year ago, Damla had decided that Caina was lonely and needed to find someone. Well, she wasn’t wrong.

  It was just that the man Caina wanted had been dead for two years.

  “Mmm. Well, maybe you will someday make the time,” said Damla.

  “Maybe,” said Caina, mostly because she did not want to talk about it. “How is business?”

  “Better,” said Damla. “It is recovering. After the battle in Manhattan, business dropped down for a while. People were afraid and did not want to spend money on coffee.” She shrugged. “But then the Mage Fall happened, and they announced that the Archons had been destroyed…perhaps better times are coming. My oldest will soon be old enough to serve Lord Kaldmask as a man-at-arms. I hope that his time of service is peaceful.”

  “I hope that, too,” said Caina. Damla had already lost her husband, her homeland, and much of her extended family. It would be monstrously cruel for her to lose her sons as well.

  “It is in the hands of God,” said Damla. “Have you seen the Great Gate?”

  “No,” said Caina. “I haven’t been to Milwaukee since the Great Gate opened. Maybe my work will take me there at some point.”

  “It must be a strange thing to see,” said Damla. “To travel from Earth to Kalvarion in a single stride. It’s going to change the world, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” said Caina. Damla was more correct than she knew. Caina’s recent mission to New Robotics Corporation had been because the High Queen was going to relax the ban on robotics and automation research. Caina never saw more than a fraction of Tarlia’s plans, but she wondered how many other irons the High Queen had in the fire. Governing two different worlds at once was going to be an enormous challenge, and perhaps Tarlia wanted humans to have more autonomy so she didn’t have to deal with them as often. “I hope for the better. We…”

  The door opened, and Caina glanced to the side as Nadia Moran stepped into the coffee shop.

  Caina blinked in surprise. The last time she had met Nadia here, Nadia had been wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a motorcycle jacket. Caina had gotten the overall impression that Nadia had been something of a tomboy. Not today, though. Today Nadia wore a snug red sweater dress that came to her knees, black leggings, and black ankle boots with high heels. She had on makeup and earrings, and her brown hair had been combed so it rested against her left shoulder. With her wedding ring, Nadia looked like a young, pretty wife, newly-married to some man-at-arms released from his term of service to an Elven lord.

  Except for her eyes. Her eyes looked ancient and cold and a little crazed. The vision of the valikarion showed Caina the magical aura around Nadia, and it was powerful. More powerful than Baron Thronaris’s, in truth. An Elven noble who challenged Nadia would get a nasty surprise. Caina had never encountered a human wizard of Nadia’s power, and she wondered how Nadia had become so strong.

  It likely had something to do with why her eyes looked so crazed.

  Caina wondered why Nadia had dressed up and then saw the man walking with her.

  Ah. Nadia had brought her husband.

  Caina’s eyes flicked over him, noting details. He was a big man, well over six feet tall, and heavily muscled. He was wearing a blue button-down shirt tucked into black jeans, and a sports coat that was loose enough to conceal a shoulder holster. Despite his size, he moved with the fluid grace of an expert fighter, his head turning slightly as he examined the room for threats. For some reason, he was wearing heavy wrap-around sunglasses that concealed his eyes entirely. Maybe there was something wrong with them. Caina’s earlier deductions about Nadia’s husband had been correct. She had expected someone strong and competent since she couldn’t see Nadia falling in love with anyone she didn’t respect. Caina wasn’t surprised to see that the man had a magical aura. Likely former Wizard’s Legion, then. Maybe he knew Kylon. But there was something wrong with his aura, something off, and…

  She sucked in a startled breath.

  The distortion in his aura came from a Shadowmorph, which meant that the man was a Shadow Hunter.

  Caina had dealt with the Shadow Hunters a few times before. Their Shadowmorph symbionts gave them enhanced speed and strength, but at the cost of feeding on the life force of their victims. Shadow Hunters who could not keep themselves under control inevitably went insane and descended into homicidal mania, gorging themselves on the life force of innocent victims before they were stopped. Shadow Hunters who retained their sanity, by necessity, had a tremendous amount of self-control.

  Yes, this was exactly the sort of man Caina had expected for the husband of Nadia Moran.

  Nadia saw her, grinned, and walked over, her heels making loud clicks against the hardwood floor.

  “Hi,” Nadia said. “What an enormous surprise to find you here.” Her voice was a little deeper than usual for a woman, and would have been husky if not for the Midwestern twang.

  “Good afternoon,” said Caina. “I fear I feel rather underdressed.”

  “And I feel overdressed, so that’s okay,” said Nadia. She smoothed her skirt. “Looks good on me, though, doesn’t it? Anyway, this is my husband Riordan. I told him about you, and he wanted to meet you.”

  “Miss Amalas,” said Riordan. He had a quiet voice, deep and pleasant. The slightest hint of a Texas accent. Nadia had gotten shot the last time she had worked with Caina, and likely Riordan’s real reason for coming was to make sure that didn’t happen again. Caina shook Riordan’s hand. He had a strong grip, though he didn’t try to crush her fingers, his hand marked with calluses from ex
ercise and practice with a variety of weapons.

  To her surprise, she felt a flicker of physical desire for him. That would be the Shadowmorph, sensing her life force once she had touched him. Shadow Hunters who kept themselves under control nonetheless sometimes used their Shadowmorphs to help attract a long string of lovers. Caina couldn’t imagine Nadia tolerating that, which further reinforced her impression of Riordan as a man of iron self-control. Though Riordan was so much taller than Nadia that Caina frankly wondered how they managed in bed. She supposed Riordan could…

  Stop that! Not her business. And curiosity on that subject was the Shadowmorph influencing her.

  “Riordan,” said Caina. She looked at Damla. “Could we get a table? And could you see that we’re not disturbed?”

  “Certainly,” said Damla. “And drinks, of course. Coffee?”

  “Black and straight for me,” said Caina, looking at Nadia. “You want the same?”

  “That’s right,” said Nadia as Damla led them across the coffee house to the balcony stairs. “If I wanted sugar water, I would buy sugar water.”

  Damla laughed. “A woman after my own heart. And you, sir?”

  “The same,” said Riordan.

  Damla seated them at a table in the corner of the upper balcony, the windows offering a view of the rippling gray waters of the river and the island of Manhattan beyond. Caina sat across from Nadia and Riordan, and she noted that Riordan sat on the aisle, likely to intercept any attack that might come at Nadia. This was a man who worried about his wife a great deal. Which, since she was a shadow agent of the High Queen, was probably a logical fear.

  Damla arrived with coffee, and Caina paid her.

  “So,” said Nadia, lifting her cup, “what do you want to talk about?”

  ###

  I watched Caina as I took a sip of the coffee.

  It was really excellent coffee.

  Caina could make herself look like anyone, but today she looked like an average New Yorker, with jeans, a T-shirt, a jacket, and a cap with the logo of either the state’s football team or the baseball team (I forget which, because I don’t actually care). I felt a little odd wearing a dress for this, but I didn’t care about that, either. After we had gotten married, I liked to dress up whenever I went anywhere with Riordan. I suppose I was a little insecure. I mean, he’s not perfect, obviously, but he’s kind, brave, rich, strong, and handsome. I kept wondering if he couldn’t have done better than me. Like, someone with a nicer disposition. Or a woman with a nicer disposition who was blonder, bustier, saner, and worst of all, taller…