Ghost in the Ring (Ghost Night Book 1)

by Jonathan Moeller

  They lay in silence for a moment.

  “Then we take the Ring back to Iramis,” said Kylon. “The Temnoti won’t be able to get it there.”

  “No,” said Caina.

  That was a good plan, but Iramis was a long journey away…and many things could happen in that time.

  She turned her head, wondering if Kylon would take her in his arms, yet she saw that he had fallen asleep. A smile went over Caina’s face. Her brave husband had killed at eight of the mavrokhi by himself. If he wanted to take her, he could have her…but by the Divine, he had earned his sleep. The aftermath of a brush with death often fired Caina’s blood, but she was exhausted, and her head hurt.

  Caina kissed him, slumped against the pillows, and went to sleep.

  Later she awoke. It was not yet dawn, and the wind howled outside the White Boar. Kylon was still asleep, his breathing slow and steady. Caina’s head still throbbed, and she doubted she would get any more sleep, so she rose and dressed in silence. She slipped through the door and onto the balcony overlooking the common room.

  The common room was deserted, but Seb leaned against the railing, gazing at the hearth. He had removed his black armor and wore only a rough tunic and trousers and his boots. The lack of armor made him seem more human somehow. He looked up as she approached and offered a shallow bow.

  “Couldn’t sleep either, I see?” said Seb.

  “Not really,” said Caina. “I usually sleep after a battle, but my head hurts too much.”

  “Mmm.” Seb leaned back against the railing. “If I may be perfectly candid, what I usually want after a battle is to get drunk and find a woman, but right now that seems unwise.”

  Caina shrugged. “I’m sure one of the townswomen would be grateful to the man who helped save Kostiv from its cruel boyar.”

  Seb gave her a surprised look. “Such a thing for a married woman to say.”

  “I think it’s best to see people as they are,” said Caina, leaning on the railing next to him, “rather than pretending that they are better or worse than they really are. Both are errors.”

  “Wise of you,” said Seb. Suddenly he grinned. “We did rescue Kostiv, didn’t we? Like the valikarion of old.”

  “We did,” said Caina. Something clicked in her mind. “You used to be married, didn’t you?”

  Seb’s smile drained away. “Yes. How did you know? Did Lord Kylon tell you?”

  “No. But Kylon didn’t need to. You’re in mourning,” said Caina. “I’m afraid it’s obvious, if you’ve experienced it for yourself, and I have. And you wanted to save Kostiv…probably because you couldn’t save your wife.”

  “I forget how irritating it must be,” said Seb, “to meet someone with our deductive abilities.”

  “It is annoying, isn’t it?”

  They stood in silence, watching the flames in the hearth.

  “Her name was Katrina,” said Seb at last. “Aunt Talmania murdered her.”

  “I’m sorry,” said Caina.

  Seb let out a long breath. “It is just as well Talmania chose the Umbarian side of the war because I am going to have to kill her someday.” He looked down at her. “But only after we get you and the Iron King’s relic to Iramis, I think. It would annoy Talmania to no end if the Umbarians failed to acquire the Ring, and the thought of her annoyance pleases me a great deal.”

  “You were right,” said Caina.

  “Eh?” said Seb, blinking out of the dark memories of his past.

  “We did save Kostiv,” said Caina. “And we couldn’t have done it without your help. Thank you.” She hesitated. “Brother.”

  Seb paused. “I suspect that may have been a difficult admission for you.”

  “It was,” said Caina. “I hated my mother. I don’t like how you remind me of her. I hated my mother, but I came from her, and I don’t hate myself…so I suppose it isn’t fair to hate you, either.”

  “If it helps,” said Seb, “I’m not at all fond of her either.”

  “Neither was I,” said Caina, “and I knew her personally.”

  “Well.” Seb offered her another bow, deeper this time. “Then I am very pleased to know you, Caina Amalas Tarshahzon Kardamnos. I think I already like you better than my full sister.”

  “Is she an Umbarian?” said Caina.

  “No,” said Seb. “I don’t think she’s loyal to anyone except herself. Will we leave tomorrow?”

  “Certainly not,” said Caina. “Not until it stops snowing, and not until we can actually travel on the road or maybe on top of the frozen river. I fear we’ll be stuck here for at least a week.” Hopefully, the snowfall would slow the Temnoti as well.

  “We ought to move as soon as possible,” said Seb. “I’m afraid that trinket you took from Sigilsoara will draw attention sooner rather than later, and maybe more dangerous attention than the late and unlamented Razdan Nagrach.”

  Caina nodded. “Figured that out too, did you?”

  “I did.” Seb shrugged again. “Someone had to turn Razdan and his friends into mavrokhi. The Temnoti are the most likely suspects.”

  “They are,” said Caina. “But I hope it doesn’t matter. If we can get out of Ulkaar fast enough, we can take the Ring to Iramis, and then it can’t hurt anyone.”

  “I can’t think of a better plan,” said Seb. “Have you decided what to do about Sophia?”

  “She said she would come with us to Iramis,” said Caina. “I suppose she might change her mind, now that she is the heir to the title of boyar.”

  “At least until Ivan marries some young woman and fathers his own heir upon her,” said Seb.

  “True.” Caina shrugged. “But when she’s recovered, I will ask her if she still wants to accompany us. I think she will. She loves her uncle…but I don’t think she loves Kostiv.”

  In all the years since she had killed her mother, Caina had never returned to visit the ruins of her father’s house overlooking the Bay of Empire. Perhaps Sophia felt the same way about Kostiv.

  “If she is willing and you do not object,” said Seb, “I can start training her during the journey.”

  Caina frowned. “You’re a magus of the Magisterium. Her talents are in the sorcery of water, and I hope she will become a loremaster. Would you be able to train her?”

  “In the basics, at least,” said Seb. “There are many different forms of the arcane sciences, which you know as well as I do, but many of the fundamentals are the same. At the very least I can teach her to keep her power from erupting out of control as it did during the fight. Which saved your life, I know, but any strong emotion might trigger it. If she meets a young man she fancies she might accidentally encase her hands in ice or generate a burst of psychokinetic force.”

  “I suppose that’s one way to keep unwelcome suitors away,” said Caina.

  “In a fashion, it is not so different than learning a skill with a weapon,” said Seb. “The sword, the axe, the spear, the bow, and the javelin are all very different weapons. Yet becoming fit and strong helps master each. What I will teach Sophia is the sorcerous equivalent of becoming fit and strong. When she comes to Iramis and if the loremasters accept her, that kind of training will only serve her.”

  “Very well,” said Caina. “If she is amenable, I see no objection to it.”

  “If it makes you feel better,” said Seb, “you’ll be able to see everything I teach her in a way no one else could. After all, no one can lie to an Arvaltyr, or so the legends say.”

  “People lie to me all the time,” said Caina. “They just need to be better at it.”

  Seb snorted. “That’s not the motto of House Scorneus, but it really should be.” He pushed away from the railing. “I think I am tired enough to sleep now.”

  Caina smiled. “Talking to me tired you out, is that it?”

  “Another phrase that should be the motto of House Scorneus,” said Seb. “Good night, Caina.”

  “Good night, Seb.”

  He bowed once more and disappeared into h
is room.

  Caina turned back and leaned against the railing, lost in thought. Her life had indeed taken some odd directions. Once she had hated sorcerers with a passion and would have been happy to see the entire Magisterium destroyed. And now…she was married to a sorcerer, even if he thought of himself as a warrior first, her half-brother was a sorcerer, and she was taking a girl to Iramis to be trained as a loremaster.

  Her younger self would have been appalled. Now, though…now she had come to realize that life was more complicated. Some forms of arcane science were innately evil. Others were not. They were like any other form of power. A sword was power, and a man could use a sword to kill children or to defend his family.

  She was thinking about arcane power, so it did not surprise her when she saw a flicker of a familiar ward.

  Caina turned and saw the Bronze Witch standing a few yards further down the balcony, the bronze staff grasped in both gnarled hands, the glow of the familiar warding spell around her.

  For a moment, they stared at each other. Caina caught the glint of the firelight reflecting off the dark eyes beneath the Witch’s ragged cowl. The greening bronze teeth also glinted in the light.

  “Thank you,” said Caina.

  “For what, dear girl?” said the Witch.

  “Your advice was correct,” said Caina. “Razdan refused to back down, even after Kylon killed half of his szlachts.”

  “Your husband is a powerful warrior,” said the Witch, “with a healthy disdain for prophecies.”

  “Did the Temnoti send the boyar after the Ring?” said Caina.

  “Oh, most certainly,” said the Witch. “You see, there are ranks in the hierarchy of the Temnoti. The lower rank, the deluded cultists who gather in cellars with the petty necromancers and conjurers, they are dangerous but mortal. But the elder Temnoti, they are virtually immortal and most patient. They were the ones you saw in Sigilsoara, the twisted ones. They were with Rasarion Yagar when he attempted his great spell and the Warmaiden slew him, and the backlash of that spell made them into the creatures that they are now. They are most patient, most patient indeed, patient in a way that you can scarce imagine. If poor stupid Razdan failed, they will simply try again, though they will not show themselves to you. That is not their way. They prefer to operate from the shadows…and they are wise enough not to face a valikarion directly, for no spell will turn aside a valikon’s fury.”

  “A poor choice, then,” said Caina. “I also prefer to operate from the shadows.”

  The Witch cackled. “Indeed! Indeed! Though you’re not very good at remaining in the shadows, amirja of Istarinmul and Liberator of Iramis.”

  “You helped us,” said Caina. “Why?”

  “Because that is my duty, dear girl,” said the Witch. “It has been my duty for a very long time. And I must say you provided some excellent help with that obligation. I confess, I thought Razdan might eat you all. Instead, the mavrokhi are dead, and old Ivan Zomanek shall give the town of Kostiv a better ruler than it has known for quite a long time. If you take the Ring from Ulkaar and secure it within the Towers of Lore, the deaths of many shall be averted.”

  “Who are you?” said Caina.

  “Why, I am the Bronze Witch,” said the old woman. “No more and no less. A legend.”

  “In other words,” said Caina, “if the Umbarians and the Temnoti figure out who you really are, they’ll try to kill you, so it’s safer to hide behind the legend of this Bronze Witch.”

  The old woman said nothing.

  “I know a thing or two about legends, I’m afraid,” said Caina.

  “That clever tongue of yours,” said the Bronze Witch, “is going to get you into trouble, girl.”

  Caina smiled. “Who says that it hasn’t?”

  The Bronze Witch snorted once, her lined face twitching into something that might have been a scowl, or maybe a smile. It was hard to tell beneath the shadows of her cowl. Then Caina saw a flare of arcane power, and the Witch vanished without a trace.

  She stood in silence for a moment, then shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose.

  Her headache had gotten worse.

  “Again?” Caina said. In Istarinmul, Nasser, Prince Kutal Sulaman, and Samnirdamnus had all kept their true purposes hidden from her. Granted, it had worked out for the best, but it was still exasperating.

  By the Divine, Caina was tired of games.

  Still, it meant that she was tired enough to go back to sleep.

  The next morning, she sat in the common room eating a breakfast prepared by a dazed-looking Rachov and his family. The shock of the boyar’s defeat still hung over the town, and the townsmen that Caina had seen had a stunned look. Likely it would take a few days before it began to feel real. Kylon sat next to her, eating a piece of bread and discussing the finer points of swordplay with Seb.

  Caina looked up as Sophia descended to the common room, tired-looking and bleary-eyed. She stopped at the base of the stairs, seemed to pull herself together, and walked straight towards Caina.

  “Good morning,” said Caina. “How are you feeling?”

  “Very tired,” said Sophia. “But alive. Thanks to you, my lady.”

  “You saved my life,” said Caina. “The boyar would have killed me if you hadn’t shot him. Thank you.”

  Sophia shook her head in bewilderment. “I was so angry. I can barely remember it. It was like a dream or something that happened to someone else. I wasn’t even scared. I just…I just was so angry with the boyar that I wanted to hurt him no matter what, and the ice exploded out of me.”

  Seb nodded. “Your power manifested in fury in response to your own rage. If you wish, I can teach you to better control it. Else the next time you are under emotional duress, it might manifest again.”

  “Yes,” said Sophia. “I would like that, my lord. I don’t want to feel out of control like that again.”

  “And if you are willing,” said Caina, “we will take you with us to Iramis. You can be trained as a loremaster there.”

  “I would like that, my lady,” said Sophia. “If you would take me with you…yes, I would like to leave Kostiv. And Ulkaar. But I should do something else first.”

  “What is it?” said Caina.

  Sophia took a deep breath and dropped to her knees. Seb raised an eyebrow in surprise. Kylon looked at her, nodded, and went back to his breakfast.

  “I wish to swear fealty to you,” said Sophia.

  Caina blinked. “To me?”

  “Yes, my lady,” said Sophia. “You saved my life and the lives of those six other women. None of us would have survived if you hadn’t come to Ulkaar. I would have died in Sigilsoara, and the Boyar’s Hunt would have continued.” She stared up at Caina. “You truly are one of the Arvaltyri of old. I…I wish to swear as your liegewoman. Like how a szlacht swears to his boyar.” She frowned, thinking. “How do they say it? Yes, that’s it. The szlacht says he will be a loyal son as if the boyar was his own father. So I will swear to be a loyal daughter as if you were my own mother.”

  A tangle of sudden emotions went through Caina at those words.

  As if you were my own mother…

  It was only a ritual phrase, she knew, and a variant of it was used in every nation in the Empire. Yet it had still struck her in the heart. Caina took a deep breath to calm herself and looked Sophia in the eye.

  “You will have to obey me if you do this,” said Caina.

  Seb snorted. “As if we haven’t all been doing what you have told us to do for the last week.”

  Sophia nodded. “I shall. What greater honor could there be than serving as the liegewoman of a valikarion?”

  So they took the oath together, and Sophia swore to serve and obey her, and Caina swore to protect and guide her.

  ###

  Two weeks later they were ready to depart Kostiv.

  Truth be told, Caina had been ready to leave Ulkaar from the moment she had arrived, but the roads were finally ready for travel. The new boyar was mo
st generous with supplies and clothing from his deceased predecessor’s castle, and Caina, Kylon, Seb, and Sophia were well-equipped for the journey south.

  Caina stood in the market, wrapped in a heavy cloak lined with wolf fur (not taken from a dead mavrokh, thankfully), and watched her breath steam in the air, shivering a little even in her heavy clothes.

  “Are you ready to go home?” said Kylon, stepping next to her.

  She smiled up at him. “I am home. I told you the day that you asked me to marry you. Home is wherever you are.”

  Caina took his hand, and he leaned down and kissed her.

  “Then are you ready to go someplace warmer?” said Kylon.

  Caina laughed. “I have never heard sweeter words from you, husband.”

  The four of them left Kostiv, following the southwestern road along the river to Vagraastrad.

  Epilogue

  The power of the bronze staff had a limited range, and it took the woman who called herself the Bronze Witch three jumps to travel from Kostiv to the stinking back alleys of Vagraastrad, near the docks overlooking the Kozalin River. Even in winter, the docks reeked, and teemed with laborers going about their business.

  No one saw the Witch. A simple spell ensured that.

  The Temnoti, though, would have no trouble seeing through the spell. The Witch hastened towards the market below the Voivode’s castle, where she would change to her other disguise, the one that the twisted, mutated Temnoti would never suspect.

  For they had lost all taste for the simpler pleasures of life.

  The Witch needed to be ready. Caina was coming to Vagraastrad…and she was the only valikarion in Ulkaar.

  And Caina would need the Witch’s help if she was to survive the creatures of darkness that awaited her in Vagraastrad.

  ###

  The Syvashar glided through the woods, seven of his brothers trailing him in silence, their heads bowed, their limbs concealed within the long sleeves of their ragged brown robes. Any man of Ulkaar who saw them from a distance would assume that they were a procession of Brothers and Sisters of the Temple.