Ghost in the Ring (Ghost Night Book 1)

by Jonathan Moeller

  Kylon let out a long breath. “All right.”

  Seb frowned at them. “What should I tell the ardivid?” he said in Caerish.

  “Whatever you want,” said Caina in the same language, and she started walking forward.

  She walked into the creature’s necromantic aura. It felt unpleasantly cold, and she started to shiver beneath her heavy coat but suffered no other ill effects. The pyrikon’s vibration increased, growing so violent that it would make her left hand go numb before much longer.

  The ghostly face shifted to her. Lesser undead, Caina knew, could not perceive her, since they did not have physical eyes and could not sense a valikarion. More powerful undead could perceive physical light, and the ardivid seemed able to see her as she walked towards it. Likely the undead szlacht assumed she was coming to surrender.

  But the closer Caina drew, the more likely it was that the ardivid would realize something was wrong.

  The creature focused on her, ghostly eyes narrowed, and said something in the Ulkaari tongue. Caina didn’t know what the words meant, but she expected it wasn’t even remotely complimentary. She kept walking at a steady, unhurried pace, the pyrikon buzzing on her left wrist, the valikon burning in her right hand.

  Again, the undead szlacht said something. This time it sounded like a question. Caina only smiled and kept walking, her heartbeat like a drum in her ears. Fear pulsed through her in time to her heartbeat, but long practice kept her hands steady and the smile on her face.

  Once more the ardivid barked its question. The translucent face shifted, the eyes narrowing as they looked at Caina, the valikon, and back at Caina.

  Suddenly she saw the realization strike home.

  The ghostly eyes widened, and the creature shouted and yanked the sword from its belt. Unlike its face, the sword was real, a curved Kagari-style saber with jewels glittering in the guard and pommel. Caina sprinted forward, covering the distance between them, and struck with the valikon. The ghostsilver blade scraped the ardivid’s forearm, disrupting the spells, and the undead szlacht screamed in pain. Caina drove her valikon towards its neck, but the szlacht reacted with inhuman speed. The saber blurred towards her face, and Caina had no choice but to abandon her attack and raise the valikon in a parry, both hands clenching its hilt.

  Her valikon turned the edge of its saber, but the impact drove Caina back with enough force that she lost her balance and fell in the snow. The ardivid stalked after her, raising its saber for the kill.

  There was a blur and a flash of white fire, and Kylon landed in front of the ardivid, his valikon hammering down. His sword took of the undead szlacht’s arms at the elbow, and both forearms and saber fell uselessly to the ground. The ardivid screamed, the ghostly face twisting in agony, and Kylon’s valikon took the creature’s head off.

  The head rolled away across the snow, and the armored body collapsed with a clang to the ground.

  The necromantic aura faded. Caina rolled to one knee, looking back and forth, but she saw no further necromantic auras, and no sorcerous auras save for those around Kylon and Seb.

  Her pyrikon folded in on itself, returning to its bracelet form.

  Kylon extended a hand, and Caina took it. He pulled her to her feet without the slightest hint of strain. By the Divine, he was strong, even without his water sorcery.

  “Are you all right?” said Kylon.

  “Yes,” said Caina. She let out a long breath, the fear draining away. “A little bruised, but I’ve had worse.”

  A shadow moved through the trees, and a new aura blazed before Caina’s vision.

  She whirled, bringing up her valikon, and for a moment she saw a hooded shadow standing at the foot of a tree, hands tucked into its voluminous sleeves, its cowled head bowed. Caina caught a glimpse of tentacles writhing below the hem of the robe, and something in its crooked posture reminded her of the Temnoti she had seen in the corridors of Sigilsoara.

  Then the shadow vanished without a trace, the arcane aura vanishing. It had never really been there, Caina realized. It had been a spell of illusion, a projection.

  One of the Temnoti had been watching the fight.

  Likely it had been the Syvashar that the undead szlacht had mentioned.

  Seb jogged over, armor clanking, and Sophia trailed after him.

  “You slew an ardivid,” whispered Sophia.

  “It was already dead,” said Caina.

  Sophia let out a strangled sound that was halfway between a laugh and a cough.

  “A question,” said Seb. “Why was that ardivid looking for you in particular?”

  Caina sighed. “I didn’t intend it, but I’m afraid I may have put our lives in danger.”

  Chapter 9: Bronze Witch

  In the two years since Boyar Vlad Nagrach had died, Sophia Zomanek had known fear.

  Vlad Nagrach had been a brutal man, but he had been a predictable one. His taxes had been steep, but so long as they were paid, the boyar’s szlachts and officers left the people of the town alone. Criminals had regularly been hanged from the gibbets in the town market, and the penalty for even minor crimes was death, but those who had stayed inside the law had nothing to fear. The boyar had also protected his people. Bandits and highwaymen met a swift and merciless end, and the boyar’s szlachts and men-at-arms defended the town when the undead came wandering out of the wilderness. While Vlad Nagrach had not been a pious man, he had respected the Temple, and he had executed anyone caught following the old ways and the teachings of Temnuzash.

  Then the old man had died, and his son Razdan became boyar.

  With the Empire divided, and the Magisterium’s attention turned elsewhere, Razdan had proclaimed his devotion to the old ways. It was said the new boyar and his young szlachts would go into the woods and visit the altars of the Temnoti, learning forbidden secrets. People caught outside at night were killed, sometimes torn apart. Rumors said that Razdan and his men wanted to follow the paths of the ancient Ulkaari nobles, to become the Hounds of the Iron King as their ancestors had been in the days of Rasarion Yagar.

  Even if that were not true, Razdan was capricious where his father had been predictable, executing those who displeased him and taking whatever money and goods he wished. In the old days, the men of Kostiv could have appealed to the Imperial Lord Governor for succor, but the Lord Governor had been killed by the Umbarians, and no one had come to take his place. Razdan had the friendship of the Voivode of Vagraastrad, the most powerful pro-Umbarian noble in Ulkaar, and he could do whatever he wished.

  All that was bad enough.

  But as Sophia grew older, her ability to sense emotions became stronger, no matter how hard she tried to keep it secret. Brother Valexis knew, and he told her that in the old days the Magisterium would have taken her for training, but now they had to keep her abilities secret lest the Umbarians come for her.

  And so she sensed the boyar’s hungry lust whenever he looked at her.

  Another girl would have been flattered. Razdan was handsome and rich and charming when he felt like it. But Sophia’s ability meant she sensed the rage and hatred and hunger in his mind, a hunger that only sharpened when his eyes rested on her. More and more Sophia had feared that the boyar would kidnap her and take her to his castle as his unwilling concubine.

  Then the boyar’s szlachts had announced that Razdan would reinstitute the ancient custom of the Boyar’s Hunt…and that Sophia had been one of the seven women chosen for the honor.

  Compared to that, Sophia would have preferred to become the boyar’s unwilling concubine.

  So, Sophia had fled into the forest and stumbled into Sigilsoara, where she had learned a whole new kind of fear.

  And then she had met Caina, and for the first time in two years, Sophia felt something other than fear.

  Mostly bafflement.

  Right now, Caina was kneeling next to the destroyed ardivid, using a scavenged dagger to lever the gemstones from its breastplate one by one.

  “We need the money,”
said Caina as she began searching the destroyed undead. Some of the undead had been carrying ancient pouches of crumbled leather, and the pouches still held some silver and copper coins.

  “Is this really the time to be looting corpses?” said Seb in a dry voice.

  “Food isn’t free,” said Caina, taking more coins. “I can always steal what we need, but it’s safe and easier to just buy it.”

  “More honest, too,” said Sophia. Somehow, she never imagined the valikarion of ancient legend displaying Caina’s streak of ruthless practicality.

  “That, too,” said Caina, looking at the ardivid’s armored corpse. Sophia could barely make herself look at the thing. Ardivids were some of the most dangerous undead of the forests, second only to the vyrkolaki and a few others, and Sophia had never heard of anyone who had defeated one in a fight.

  Perhaps Caina really was one of the Arvaltyri of old. Though Sophia had never imagined a valikarion who looked like an Imperial noblewoman.

  “Isn’t this grave robbing?” said Seb.

  Caina grunted as she searched the ardivid’s corpse. “I don’t think it counts when the occupants of the graves try to kill you without provocation. I think…yes.” She took the ardivid’s sword belt, which had survived the passage of the centuries without decay, sheathed the saber, and passed the belt to her husband. “We’ll get a good price for those if we’re smart about it. I’ll pry the jewels out of the armor. It’s too heavy to take with us.”

  Kylon nodded and slung the sword belt over his shoulder.

  Sophia was not quite sure what to make of Kylon and Caina. Brother Valexis had said a wife ought to obey her husband, but more often than not, Caina told Kylon what to do. On the other hand, on the infrequent occasions when Kylon told Caina to do something, she did it immediately. Perhaps he simply trusted her judgment as much as he trusted his own, and she trusted him in turn.

  Sophia wondered if her own mother and father had been like that.

  “Are not the jewels cursed?” said Sophia. “The szlacht was cursed to rise as an undead. Maybe the jewels will be cursed as well.”

  Caina shook her head. “No. There are no sorcerous auras on the gems.”

  “Trust me, she would know,” said Kylon.

  Caina flashed him a smile and resumed prying out gemstones. “But it’s only fair that we split this four ways, I think. If you sell your share properly, Sophia, you’ll have enough money to last at least a few years.” She glanced at Sophia and then went back to her work. “Enough to get far away from Kostiv, if you want.”

  Sophia swallowed. Maybe the boyar would find her wherever she went. He had friends in the Umbarian Order. Maybe if the Umbarians defeated the Emperor, they would find Sophia and give her as a present to Razdan Nagrach.

  “Once you have finished looting,” said Seb, “perhaps you can explain just how you have placed our lives in danger.” He gave the ardivid’s head a kick, and it rolled away. “Other than the immediate dangers that threaten us, of course.”

  “Of course,” said Caina, her voice just as dry as his. Sophia was struck by the resemblance between them. It was obvious that they were siblings, and strange that they had never met before Sigilsoara.

  But perhaps Caina’s mother had been someone like Razdan Nagrach.

  A few moments they returned to the campfire.

  “I didn’t want to tell you this,” said Caina, “since I suspect the knowledge is dangerous…”

  “And you weren’t sure,” said Seb, “how I would react?”

  Caina shrugged. “Can you blame me? My experiences with the Magisterium have not been pleasant in the past.”

  “Neither have mine,” said Seb, “and I am a brother of the Magisterium. But to employ a metaphor that Lord Kylon would appreciate, we are all in this ship together, so it seems we must row together or sink together.”

  “Very well,” said Caina. “While we were in Sigilsoara, I found out what the Umbarians wanted. I think it is a sorcerous relic of Rasarion Yagar.”

  Sophia shivered. All her life, the Iron King had been a legend of fear and dread. The Warmaiden had slain him long ago, but his creatures still haunted the forest…and Boyar Razdan wished to become one of his Hounds.

  “Oh.” Seb sighed. “And you took it with you.”

  “It was either that,” said Caina, reaching into a pocket of the red coat, “or leave it behind for the Umbarians to find.”

  She drew out something. Sophia blinked in surprise, peering at the object. It was a man’s heavy signet ring, but it was made from gray iron instead of gold or silver. It did have a stone, a massive emerald that glittered in the firelight, and the emerald had been carved into the shape of a roaring dragon…

  Sophia’s breath hissed through her teeth.

  “That is his ring,” she said. “That is the Ring of Rasarion Yagar.”

  “Dear gods,” said Seb, as astonished as she had yet seen him.

  “Why didn’t you leave that evil thing in Sigilsoara?” said Sophia, horrified.

  “Because,” said Caina, still calm. “If I had, the Umbarians would have found it. And judging from your reaction, this is something the Umbarians should never have.”

  “No,” said Seb. “And I know the Umbarians better than you do. You cannot imagine the kind of horror they could wreak.”

  “Do I not?” said Caina, those cold eyes glittering. “Because I have seen the kind of horrors the Umbarians have wreaked. Kylon and I killed Cassander Nilas, but before we did, he almost defeated us. An assassin he hired stabbed me in the back, and I barely survived. Cassander almost worked a spell that killed every man, woman, and child in Istarinmul. A million people, nearly burned to ashes, all so the Umbarian fleet could pass through the Starfall Straits and destroy the Empire.”

  “Perhaps I have not seen destruction on such a scale, my lady,” said Seb. His eyes glittered in the same way as Caina’s, like disks of blue ice. “But I spent years looking over my shoulder for an assassin’s blade, lest the Umbarians kill me for refusing them. After they had declared themselves openly, I fought them openly. I have seen their Dead Legion, their cataphracti, their mutants and elemental spirits and all the other horrors they have called up. I have seen the slaughtered villages, the towns burned to ashes, the entire nations reduced to slavery. I fear I know the Umbarians just as well as you do.”

  For a moment, they stared at each other. It wasn’t quite a glare, but it was close.

  “So, you’re just saying you both hate the Umbarian Order,” said Sophia.

  Kylon laughed. “Gods, the girl has the truth of it.”

  “If I had left the Ring behind,” said Caina, “the Umbarians would have gotten it.”

  “You’re right,” said Seb. “The Umbarians cannot have this. Not for any reason.”

  “Then throw the evil thing away,” said Sophia. Despite the heat from the fire, she shivered. “There are lakes and streams near Kostiv. Throw it into the waters and let it never see the sunlight again. Or wait until you get to the Inner Sea and throw it into the depths.”

  “We can’t, I’m afraid,” said Seb. “That ring will give off a powerful necromantic aura. I suspect the only reason that Lord Kylon and I are not overwhelmed by its presence is that it is in physical contact with a valikarion. If you dropped it on the ground or into the water, I expect every sorcerer for a dozen miles would sense it at once.”

  “Aye,” said Caina. “I saw a shadow with that ardivid and its undead. I think it was a projection spell, that one of the Temnoti was watching the fight from a distance. If we leave it here, the Temnoti will take it, and I think that might be as bad as if the Umbarians claimed it.”

  “Then what do you suggest we do with the thing?” said Seb.

  “We will take it to Iramis,” said Caina. “In the Towers of Lore, the loremasters have secured many dangerous relics behind powerful wards. This Ring can be one more of them.” She shrugged. “Of course, I doubt you’ll want to travel all the way to Iramis. You’ll probably
need to return to duty with the Legions once we get past Artifel.”

  “I will,” said Seb. He hesitated. “Though I will be obliged to report this to my superiors in the Magisterium and the Legion.”

  Caina shrugged. “Report anything you want. The Ring is going to Iramis where it can’t hurt anyone.”

  Sophia looked back and forth between them. “What…what should I do? I can’t go back to Kostiv. The boyar…Boyar Razdan will kill me for stealing his sunstone.” Of course, that was a lie. The sunstone belonged to Sophia, had belonged to her since she had been a child. Razdan Nagrach would not give a damn if anyone stole a sunstone.

  But Caina and Kylon were both nobles. Caina was even the adoptive sister of the Padishah of Istarinmul if she was telling the truth. Nobles looked out for each other. Granted, Sophia was technically a noble as well, which was why she simply couldn’t join the Temple, since nobles could not take the Temple’s vows. But if Caina and Kylon knew the truth about why Sophia had fled, perhaps they would side with Razdan and insist that Sophia return for the Boyar’s Hunt.

  “You can do whatever you wish,” said Caina. “I don’t have any authority over you. But if you want, you can come with us to Iramis, to be trained by the loremasters of the Towers of Lore.”

  “Why would they want to train me?” said Sophia.

  “Dear child,” said Seb, “you might have been able to hide the truth from those in Kostiv, but I am afraid it will be much harder to conceal it from us. You have sorcerous talent, do you not? Some degree of water sorcery. Likely you can sense my emotions right now.”

  Sophia hesitated. “Brother Valexis in the Temple in Kostiv knows. So does my Uncle Ivan. No one else does. I've kept it a secret from everyone else.”

  “At some point,” said Caina, “it will become obvious. You’re…fifteen?” Sophia nodded. “As you get older, it will grow more powerful, and you will need training before you hurt yourself or someone else. If you stay in Ulkaar, sooner or later you’ll get recruited into either the Magisterium or the Umbarians.”

  “I don’t want anything to do with either one,” said Sophia. She realized that might have been the wrong thing to say. “No offense, Lord Sebastian.”