Corvalis rolled to a crouch and drew his sword.
"For the gods' sake," said Caina. "I have no idea what you're talking about. Could you at least tell me what this is all about before you kill me?"
"A likely trick," said the man. His rod flared with white light, and Caina felt the surge of sorcerous power.
Corvalis jumped to his feet, and the masked man turned to face him, leveling the silver rod at his chest.
Caina gripped the frying pan like a discus and flung it with all her strength. It slammed into the masked man's bad leg. The masked man dropped him to one knee, a pale pulse of white light spitting from his rod, but the blast missed Corvalis to splash against the side of Barimaz's wagon.
Corvalis lunged forward and buried his sword in the masked man's chest. The man toppled backwards without a sound, the rod and mask falling away. Corvalis released his sword and stepped back, and Caina hurried to his side, shooting a quick look around the street.
No one had noticed the fight.
"Damn it," said Corvalis, looking at the dying man. "I should have taken him alive." He reached for the silvery rod.
"No!" said Caina. "Don't touch it! There's a spell on it. I don't know what it will do to you."
Corvalis stepped away from the rod. All at once Caina remembered where she had seen the symbols before. They were Maatish hieroglyphs, the same kind that adorned the ancient scroll her father had found.
The ancient scroll that had led to his death, that Maglarion had almost used to destroy Malarae.
Caina looked at the dying man. Blood bubbled at his lips, and his skin had turned gray.
"Who are you?" she said.
The man glared at her, his blue eyes full of pain and fear.
"Moroaica!" he spat, and then died.
Chapter 2 - To The Highest Bidder
The next morning Caina sat next to Corvalis at the table in Theodosia’s sitting room as he cleaned his weapons.
He cleaned, sharpened, and oiled his swords and daggers every day, whether they needed cleaning or not. He had told her that the Kindred had drilled the habit into him as a child. From went Caina knew of the Kindred, it meant that if his weapons and armor had shown a single spot of rust, his trainers would beat him black and blue.
So he cleaned his weapons.
Caina understood. Her own experiences had taught her the value of keeping her blades sharp.
“Nothing,” said Caina, keeping the annoyed frustration out of her voice. She rolled a throwing knife across her fingers over and over again. The motion helped her to concentrate. “We checked every inn and tavern for a mile in every direction. No one remembered him or had ever seen him.”
Across the table, a blond woman in her middle forties frowned. She was a bit plump, but tall enough to bear the excess weight. She was the leading lady of the Grand Imperial Opera company, and looked the part of a temperamental and demanding singer. Caina knew better. Theodosia of Malarae was as dangerous as any assassin of the Kindred.
“Nothing in his pockets?” Theodosia said.
“Nothing,” said Caina. “No coins, no notes, no weapons.” She gazed at the balcony doors. “Some sand inside his boots and in the folds of his coat. He probably traveled through the Sarbian desert to get here. But beyond that, we know nothing.”
Theodosia grunted. “A man of mystery. What about those enspelled toys of his?”
Both Caina and Theodosia looked at the woman sitting at the end of the table. She was twenty-seven, three years younger than Corvalis, with bright green eyes and long blond hair. She wore a green gown that matched her eyes, its sleeves and bodice adorned with black embroidery. Caina thought it suited her.
Certainly it suited her better than the black robe of a magus of the Imperial Magisterium.
“They’re dangerous, whatever they are,” said Claudia Aberon, brushing a bit of dust from her sleeves. “The spells upon them are…complex. Certainly beyond my skill, and far beyond the skill of all but the most powerful magi of the Magisterium.”
“Did you have Nicasia look at them?” said Theodosia.
“Yes,” said Claudia. “But the Defender was…less than forthcoming.” An earth elemental had been bound within Nicasia’s flesh, and would inhabit the girl until the day she died. “Or, rather, it was candid, but I could not understand it. The Defender only said that the spells upon the objects were potent, more potent than anything mortals should use. That was all.”
Caina found herself agreeing with the Defender. She had seen firsthand the horror sorcery wreaked. If she could kill every last magus, every last wielder of arcane forces, she would do it.
But Claudia was a magus. Corvalis swore his sister had a kindly heart, had risked everything to save her.
But she was still a sorceress.
Caina kept a close eye upon her.
“Then it seems,” said Theodosia, “there is nothing more to be done. I’ve arranged for Marzhod to dump the corpse in the harbor, and we’ll keep that mask and rod under lock and key. We’ll take it back to Malarae. Meanwhile, we’ll see if any of this mysterious sorcerer’s associates reveal themselves.”
Claudia nodded, but Caina said nothing.
She had her own theory, one she did not want to share with Claudia.
“Moroaica,” the masked man had said.
Somehow, he had known the Moroaica’s spirit was trapped within Caina. Had he been one of her students, like Maglarion or Ranarius? Or had he been one of her enemies come to hunt her down? If so, he had been a fool. Killing Caina would only release the Moroaica to claim another host.
Again Caina wished they had captured the masked man alive.
Still, she and Corvalis were unharmed, so it could have been worse.
“So,” said Corvalis, “we will wait here until we receive instructions from your superiors?”
“Does that trouble you?” said Theodosia.
“Not at all,” said Corvalis. “In deference to your venerable majesty, I will gladly wait.”
Claudia laughed.
“Venerable?” said Theodosia. “I may yet have you killed, but not today. We’ll leave for Malarae in a few days, when Lord Corbould Maraeus departs for the capital. And since I have a former assassin, a former magus, and a girl with an earth elemental in her head who want to join the Ghosts, I imagine my superiors will want to meet with you in…”
Someone knocked at the door.
Caina slipped her throwing knife against her palm, while Corvalis sat up straighter, hand tightening around his sword hilt. Claudia looked at the door, and Caina felt the low thrum of arcane power as she gathered force for a spell.
“Enter,” said Theodosia, her voice calm.
A middle-aged man wearing the fine fur-trimmed robe of a prosperous merchant stepped into the room. He wore a cap with a gleaming silver badge over iron-gray hair, and carried a short sword and dagger at his belt.
Caina grinned, and Theodosia blinked in surprise.
“Well, well, this is certainly a surprise,” said Theodosia.
“I doubt,” said Halfdan, looking at Claudia and Corvalis, “that you expected to see me quite so soon.”
His tone was light, but Caina saw the tension around his eyes. Halfdan was one of the high circlemasters, one of the Ghosts’ leaders, and he was one of the most dangerous and knowledgeable men in the Empire.
Lord Armizid and Ranarius had been slain a few days ago, and it was a week’s journey from the Imperial capital. Which meant Halfdan had left before Armizid’s plot had been foiled and Ranarius had been stopped.
And that meant something was wrong.
“I admit that I did not,” said Theodosia. “Has something happened? You couldn’t have received any of the news from Cyrioch yet.”
Halfdan looked at Caina, and Corvalis, and then back at Caina, and his eyes widened, just a little bit.
“Yes,” he said. “It seems you have a tale of your own to tell me.”
“Well,” said Theodosia. She stood, as if prep
aring to deliver an aria. “Wherever shall I begin?”
She told Halfdan what had happened, albeit with plenty of dramatic flair. Halfdan listened in silence. Once or twice he scowled, and he laughed aloud when Theodosia described how Caina had infiltrated the Haven of the Kindred assassins.
“And that,” said Theodosia, after she described the strange man in the jade mask, “is everything.”
“Well,” said Halfdan. “You have been busy, haven’t you?” He rubbed at his jaw, thinking.
“What is,” said Caina, “this grim news of yours?”
“In a moment,” said Halfdan. “Some of what you’ve done here changes things. Especially that fellow in the mask.” He nodded to himself. “But let us deal with business before news. First, Corvalis Aberon, Claudia Aberon, if you wish to join the Ghosts, you will be welcome among us. I cannot tell you my true name for obvious reasons. But you may call me Basil Callenius, a master merchant of the Imperial Collegium of jewelers.”
“Master Basil,” said Claudia, rising and offering a bow to him. “If you will have us, we shall be glad to join.” Caina noted that she spoke for Corvalis, rather than the other way around. “We have seen the corruption within the Magisterium, and the harm my father would do if he gained control of the Empire. We shall gladly to lend our talents to your cause.”
“The Ghosts always have need of men and women of skill,” said Halfdan. “Even sorcerous talent, if they are willing to serve.” Caina ignored the cutting remark that came to mind. Claudia was a magus…but she was Corvalis’s sister. “Magi have joined the Magisterium before. Your father rules the Magisterium with an iron fist...but he has a knack for making enemies.”
“Indeed,” said Corvalis, voice quiet. “Even his own children.”
“Indeed. And Nicasia’s particular…gifts would be welcome,” said Halfdan. “But it seems we owe you a great deal. Without your aid Ranarius would have destroyed Cyrica Urbana.”
“Give the credit to her,” said Corvalis, and Caina felt his hand touch hers beneath the table. “She unraveled the mystery, and her wits defeated Ranarius. Had I turned away her aid as I thought to do, Ranarius would have destroyed Cyrioch and left my sister imprisoned within the stone forever.”
Halfdan smiled at Caina. “Child. Again you have done it. Malarae, Rasadda, Marsis, and now Cyrioch. The Empire would lie in ruins, if not for your valor.”
Caina shrugged. “It was…a very close thing.” If Sicarion had managed to kill her. If the Kindred Elder had foreseen the trap. If Caina hadn’t unraveled the nature of the Defender’s imprisonment. If she had been a heartbeat slower, she would have been slain…and Ranarius would have released the great elemental below the Stone.
Hundreds of thousands of people, dead in an instant.
She shivered.
“But you all have done well,” said Halfdan. “This news is far better than I hoped. I expected Cyrica to revolt against the Empire and join Istarinmul. Instead Lord Khosrau will keep the Cyrican provinces within the Empire.”
Theodosia smiled. “Lord Khosrau has fine taste in opera. But come! What is this grim news of yours?”
“That mask and rod,” said Halfdan. “Show them to me.”
Claudia rose, retrieved the jade mask and the metallic rod from a locked chest, and brought them to the table. She carried them wrapped in cloth. “I suggest, Master Basil, that you do not touch them. I don’t know what effect they might have.”
“Sound counsel, my dear,” said Halfdan as Claudia tugged away the cloth. The empty eyes of the jade mask gazed at Caina, and she felt the crawling tingle of sorcery from the aura of power surrounding both the mask and the rod.
“Those hieroglyphics are Maatish,” said Caina. “I’m sure of it.”
She remembered the Maatish scroll upon the podium atop Haeron Icaraeus’s mansion, the storm screaming overhead, Maglarion laughing as he worked the spell that would have killed every living thing in Malarae…
“You’re right,” said Halfdan. “Those are Maatish symbols. But this mask and rod aren’t Maatish. They’re Catekhari.”
“Catekhari?” exclaimed Claudia. “But that is impossible. The Catekhari are reclusive.”
“You know of them?” said Halfdan.
Claudia straightened up, hands behind her back, and she reminded Caina of a student about to recite a lesson for her tutor. “Catekharon is one of the free cities, west of Anshan and southeast of New Kyre. A reclusive society of sorcerers who call themselves the Scholae rule the city, though outsiders refer to them as the Masked Ones…” She blinked. “You mean Marina was attacked by a Masked One?”
Corvalis glanced at Caina. She had told him her true name, but she had not given it to Claudia. Caina could not bring herself to do it. Her true name was a measure of trust…and she could not bring herself to trust a magus that much.
Not even Corvalis’s sister.
“That seems likely,” said Halfdan.
“But that is impossible,” said Claudia. “Everything I read about the Masked Ones said they were reclusive, and loathed leaving their city for any reason. And by all accounts the Masked Ones are sorcerers of great puissance. How are Marina and my brother still alive?”
Halfdan shrugged. “Perhaps the Masked One was overconfident. Or unused to physical fights. Or Marina simply outwitted him. She’s rather good at outwitting sorcerers.”
“If those are Maatish symbols,” said Caina, “then are the Masked Ones necromancers?”
“No,” said Halfdan. “From what I understand, it seems the Masked Ones were once a society of some sort in ancient Maat. The necromancer-priests and the pharaohs ruled Maat, while the Masked Ones were a lesser order of sorcerers charged with making enspelled artifacts for the necromancer-priests. When the Kingdom of the Rising Sun collapsed two thousand years ago, the Masked Ones fled north and settled in Catekharon.”
“The Masked Ones are rumored to be artificers of unequalled skill,” said Claudia.
“They are,” said Halfdan. “What I am about to tell you is a secret known to few outside of the Ghosts. Even I did not know it until two weeks ago. The Masked Ones are perhaps the most powerful sorcerers in the world. The Magisterium, Istarinmul’s College of Alchemists, the stormsingers of New Kyre, the occultists of Anshan…none of them dare challenge the Masked Ones and their enspelled artifacts.”
“If they have such power,” said Caina, “why do they not rule the world?”
“Apparently they have no interest in it,” said Halfdan. “The Masked Ones study the arcane sciences and little else. They ignore the outside world, but if threatened, they respond with deadly force. Both Old Kyrace and Anshan tried to conquer Catekharon. Both were utterly defeated. The Anshani were defeated so badly that they suffered seventy years of civil war afterward.”
Something clicked in Caina’s head.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” said Caina.
Claudia frowned. “How could you possibly know that? He hasn’t said anything yet!”
Halfdan lifted a hand. “Go on.”
“You’re here,” said Caina, “because the Masked Ones have done something to the outside world, something that threatens the Empire. You have too many duties to come this far south otherwise.”
“You’re right,” said Halfdan. “A few days after you left Malarae, an embassy from Catekharon arrived before the Emperor. We also know the Masked Ones sent embassies to the Shahenshah of Anshan, the Padishah of Istarinmul, the Assembly of New Kyre, and numerous others.”
“What did the embassies say?” said Theodosia.
“They said,” said Halfdan, “that the Scholae of Catekharon had created a weapon of sorcery. A weapon so powerful, so potent, that it would grant its bearer dominion over the entire world.”
“And they demanded that the Empire submit to Catekharon, I suppose?” said Corvalis.
“Not at all,” said Halfdan. “The embassy said the Masked Ones would sell the weapon to the highest bidder.”
S
ilence answered him.
“That,” said Caina at last, “is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. If they had such a weapon, why would they sell it? Why not use it themselves? Or if they want to be left alone to study sorcery, why not keep the weapon a secret and use it if they are attacked? No one in their right mind would sell it.” She shook her head. “This has to be a trick of some sort.”
“I agree,” said Halfdan. “But I do not know the nature of the game. And there is the remote possibility that they are telling the truth. That they do indeed possess such a weapon, and are unworldly and foolish enough to sell it.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “All this…and then you are attacked by a Masked One on the street.”
“A coincidence, perhaps,” said Claudia.
Caina laughed. “A coincidence means only there is an underlying pattern that we cannot yet see.”
“Precisely,” said Halfdan. “The Emperor has sent Lord Titus Iconias to act as his ambassador to the Catekhari. Our ships came into the harbor this morning. Tomorrow he will take the Great Western Caravan Road to Catekharon, and we will accompany him.”
“We?” said Theodosia. “Basil, you know that desert air is dreadful to my skin.”
“You’re going back to Malarae with Lord Corbould,” said Halfdan. “And you’ll take Nicasia with you. Bringing a girl possessed by an earth elemental into a city full of sorcerers is a poor idea.” He looked at Caina. “You, Corvalis, and Claudia will accompany me to Catekharon, and together we will get to the bottom of this.”
“Why take me?” said Caina. “I’ve never been to Catekharon, and I don’t know the language.”
“That hardly matters,” said Halfdan. “Catekhari is a form of Maatish, and the Masked Ones use it as a formal language. Most of the Catekhari speak either Anshani or Kyracian, and you know both of those. But you have a more important skill. You can sense the presence of sorcery, and that will prove invaluable.” He looked at Claudia. “You are a trained magus, and your expertise will be useful.” Claudia nodded, and Halfdan’s gaze shifted to Corvalis. “And if we need someone killed…I suspect you shall be capable.”
The Ghosts Omnibus: The Kyracian War Page 64
