Ghost in the Blood (The Ghosts)

by Moeller, Jonathan

  “Or we’ll all die,” said Caina. “Win or lose.”

  “Thank you,” said Ark. “For finding them. No one else could have gone into that evil place and come out alive.”

  Caina sighed. “It was a stupid thing to do. I’m lucky to be alive.”

  And she would have died, if not for the aid of Lydia’s spirit.

  Ark snorted. “You are a madwoman. I’ve always said so.”

  “Aye,” said Caina. “And you’d be right.” She tugged her mask and cloak into place. “Shall we?”

  Radast paused long enough to kiss Jiri, and they followed Halfdan into the street.

  Chapter 23 - Mother and Daughter

  The sun was setting by the time they were ready.

  Caina watched the sun turn to the western sea to blood. She hoped it wasn’t an omen. So many sunsets she had seen here. She had always enjoyed them, sitting on the balcony with her father, watching the sun slip below the waters. It had been their special time, especially after her mother spent more time with Jadriga…

  More of Lydia’s memories. Caina shook her head to clear it.

  They left the mansion soon after, following the armored mass of Legionaries. Hiram and Ducas had obtained a single century each, for a total of two hundred men. Caina hoped it would be enough. As before, the men carried their swords and shields, but also bore oaken quarterstaffs. Most had participated in the attack on the mansion, and Caina hoped they would be ready to face Icaraeus’s men.

  She doubted they could face Jadriga’s sorcery. Or Agria’s, for that matter. Agria’s powers were only a tiny fraction of Jadriga’s, yet if Agria threw her spells into the fray at just the right time…

  Then it would be up to Caina to deal with her.

  Yes. Lydia’s thought was sad. My mother. I love her. But she has sold her soul. Her heart has turned to ice. She must be stopped before more people are hurt.

  “You forgive her?” whispered Caina.

  Ark frowned at her.

  Yes. I must, to be at peace. Perhaps you can one day forgive your mother, and then you will have peace.

  Caina blinked back tears.

  “Are you all right?” said Ark.

  “No,” said Caina. “But neither are you. That doesn’t matter. Not now.”

  Dusk had fallen by the time they reached the crag, Black Angel Tower looming in the darkening sky. A squad of Legionaries formed up before the door, shields raised. It made them look like a giant wooden turtle. Halfdan, masked and hooded, took up position besides the door, a short sword and dagger in hand. Radast waited besides him, that intricate double crossbow ready in his arms.

  “These are your orders!” called out Hiram. “The first and second squads from my century will go down the stairs, shields raised. The rest of you will follow, and spread out to attack. Kill all the mercenaries. If you have the opportunity to take Lord Icaraeus alive, well and good, but it isn’t necessary. You might also encounter three noblewomen: Agria Palaegus, Messana Heliorus, and Vorena Chlorus. All of them are guilty of conspiring with a traitor to the Empire, slave trading, murder, and the practice of unlawful sorcery. Take them alive if you can, but if they attempt to use their sorcerous powers, kill them. Finally, the chief of our foes is a woman called Jadriga. She will be marked with designs in black paint, and will probably be wearing a crimson cloak and carrying a black staff. She is a sorceress of considerable power, and our task is to kill her, whatever the cost. Am I understood?”

  The Legionaries banged their armored fists upon their breastplates in answer.

  Hiram looked at Caina. She nodded, pulled the rune-carved key from her belt, and crossed to the door. The key slid into the lock, and she pulled. The door swung open, stone grinding upon stone.

  Caina found herself face to face with a startled mercenary, a crossbow in his arms.

  She flung herself to the side as he took aim.

  “Now!” roared Hiram.

  The first squads surged forward, shields extended. The crossbow went off, the quarrel burying itself in the thick oak. The mercenary just had time to scream before he disappeared in a flood of shields and armor. The men clattered down the stairs, vanishing into the darkness. A moment later Hiram gestured, and the rest of the men raced forward, quarterstaffs ready. Caina followed them, ghostsilver dagger in hand, Ark besides her.

  She hurried down the steps as fast as she dared, following the Legionaries. They burst through to the great pillared chamber. The glowing spheres on their iron stands remained, but Icaraeus’s men had lit a dozen bonfires. With the enhanced vision Lydia had given her, it seemed bright as high noon.

  A dozen different melees raged among the pillars. At least a hundred mercenaries struggled against the Legionaries. Either Icaraeus had lied to Jadriga about how many men he had left, or he had recruited some more. As Caina watched, a mercenary went down with a quarterstaff over the head, while a Legionary fell, a sword driven through the gaps in his armor.

  “Fight!” roared a voice, booming over the sounds of metal on metal. Caina saw Icaraeus standing by the far archway, just beneath the great iron portcullis. He had his sword in hand, and Caina saw the faint green flickers from the warding bracers. “Kill them all!”

  Caina had to get to the pit chamber. But to do that, she had to find a way through the melee and past Icaraeus. And she couldn’t see a way to do that. A dozen little fights choked the aisles between the pillars, and any one of them could pull Caina in.

  “Ark!” she called.

  Ark looked back and forth, quarterstaff in hand, eyes cold and narrow beneath his helm.

  “We’ve got to get past them,” said Caina. “The longer this goes on, the more likely it is that Jadriga will take a hand.”

  Ark gave a sharp nod. “There.” He pointed with the staff at four mercenaries facing off against three Legionaries. “Straight through. Ready?”

  Caina nodded, took a deep breath, and started running.

  Even with the bonfires, confused shadows still filled the great chamber. Perhaps that was why the mercenaries didn’t see Caina until she was almost on top of them. She swept the legs out from under the nearest mercenary, his head cracking on the floor. The other men turned towards her in alarm, and Caina recovered her balance and sprang at them. As before, they wore no armor, trusting in their enspelled bracers to protect them. So she had no trouble slashing her ghostsilver dagger across the nearest man’s ribs. He gasped in pain, smoke rising from the wound, and one of the Legionaries put him down with a solid blow. The remaining two men advanced towards Caina, intending to skewer her.

  They ran into Ark instead.

  He beat aside their thrusts with a quick whirl of his staff, pivoted, and punched straight out. The heavy oak caught the nearest man in the face, and he went down with a groan. The final man threw down his sword and ran. He got maybe five steps before one of Radast’s blunted quarrels hurtled out of the darkness and impacted his knee.

  “You three follow me!” said Caina, gesturing to the Legionaries. “Take down Icaraeus!”

  Caina and Ark broke free from the melee, the three Legionaries following. Icaraeus paced before the far archway like an enraged panther, his sword held in the loose and confident grip of a master. He turned as they approached, the blade coming up in guard.

  “You,” snarled Icaraeus as his eyes fell upon Caina. “You continue to hound me, Ghost! How did you follow me down here? How did you even get down here?”

  “No more words,” said Caina. “It’s over.”

  “Yes,” said Icaraeus, backing into the archway. “It is.”

  A shape in a crimson robe stepped into the light, hands outstretched. For a panicked instant Caina thought it was Jadriga. But the robe’s hood fell away, and Caina saw Agria Palaegus’s taut face staring out at her, blond hair flying wildly.

  Lydia’s surge of grief and pain flooded through Caina’s mind.

  Agria rolled her wrist and thrust out her palm, shouting a word, and Caina felt the tingling surge of arcane p
ower.

  She ducked just in time. Invisible force lashed out, struck the three Legionaries, sent them tumbling backwards like children’s toys. Caina’s free hand dipped to her belt, and she flung a throwing knife at Agria. But there was a green flash, and the knife fell in twisted splinters to the floor. Agria lifted her hands in another spell, and Caina saw the rune-marked bracers as the robe’s sleeves fell away.

  She sprang forward, ghostsilver dagger in hand.

  Too late. Agria thrust out her palms again, and Caina felt another surge of power, far stronger than before. Agria’s face twisted with agony, and her voice rose to a scream.

  The spell caught Caina full in the face. She staggered back a dozen steps, numbness and pain spreading through her, and she fell to one knee. The sounds of battle trailed off, replaced by groans of pain. The spell, Caina realized. Agria’s spell had flooded the chamber with an aura of pain and numbness. Caina tried to stand, failed, grabbed at the rough stone of a nearby pillar for support.

  “Kill them,” snarled Agria, her voice taut with strain. “Quickly! I cannot maintain this for long, and the Moroaica will be wroth if anything disrupts the Opening.”

  A dozen mercenaries shook off the effects the spell. They rose and staggered from Legionary to Legionary, plunging their swords down, killing them one by one. Sweat poured down Agria’s face, the cords bulging in her neck.

  Distract her. Caina had to find a way to distract her, to disrupt her concentration.

  “Stop this before you destroy yourself!” Caina spat out.

  Agria glanced at her, and then turned her attention back to the Legionaries. Caina heard a scream of agony, and then another, followed by the sound of a sword plunging into flesh.

  “The Opening will kill everyone,” Caina grated, still struggling to stand. “You included.”

  “Silence,” hissed Agria, lips drawing back from her teeth. “The price is well worth the power we will receive.”

  “You think Jadriga will share?” said Caina.

  She smirked. “Wait. You must be little Anna Callenius. The Moroaica told me all about you, Ghost. You didn’t want a husband, hmm? Not to fear. You needn’t take a husband into your bed after one of Icaraeus’s men shoves his sword down your throat.”

  “The Opening of the Way will kill everyone in Marsis, you among them,” said Caina.

  But Agria ignored her, her eyes tight with strain. Caina struggled to think through the agonizing numbness, tried to find a course of action. She could try to throw her ghostsilver dagger, but it wasn’t balanced for throwing, and Caina doubted that she could hit Agria.

  And then another memory of Agria came into Caina’s mind, one not her own, and she knew what to do.

  “Lydia!” shouted Caina.

  Agria flinched, just a little.

  “Your daughter forgave you, Agria,” said Caina.

  “What did you say to me?” hissed Agria.

  “She forgives you,” said Caina. “You lied to her, dragged her to this pit, butchered her upon Jadriga’s altar, and bound her spirit to the caverns, but she forgives you. She loved you.”

  “Silence,” said Agria.

  “Do you remember what it was like before Jadriga came?” said Caina, the memories tumbling through her mind. “She would draw you pictures. One every day. You would keep them…”

  “Silence!” said Agria.

  “Or after dinner, when you would tell her stories,” said Caina, “or when your husband took her riding…”

  Agria shuddered, and the numbness filling Caina wavered.

  “Or her hair, you would help her with her hair…”

  “I said to be silent!” said Agria.

  “Braids. And after you finished the braids, you would put ribbons in her hair…”

  “Enough!” said Agria. “She was nothing, she was a chain, she and Martin were chains holding me back from my full potential, the Moroaica told me, she told me…”

  “Lydia forgives you for that,” said Caina, “she forgives you for what…”

  “Shut up!” screamed Agria, her face twisted in rage and perhaps grief, her hands hook into claws. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

  And as Agria shrieked her fury, her concentration shattered, and the painful numbness vanished.

  Caina sprang forward, ghostsilver dagger ready. But Agria thrust out her hand, screaming in rage. Invisible force struck Caina like a hammer blow, sent her rocketing backwards. She slammed hard into the nearest pillar, the sorcery pinning her in place, the ghostsilver dagger tumbling from her hand. Agria raced towards her, ceremonial dagger in hand, tears streaming down her face as she shrieked with incoherent fury.

  Caina struggled to break free from the spell, but it held her fast. Agria’s dagger drew back for the kill.

  And then Ark was there, staff lashing out. It landed hard across Agria’s wrist, and Caina heard bones shatter. The pressure pinning her in place vanished a heartbeat later, and she tumbled to the floor. Agria staggered back and lashed out with her free hand. Unseen force struck Ark, sent him staggering back.

  Caina scrambled to her feet, and Agria whirled to face her, good hand drawn back for another spell.

  But Ark was faster, Caina's ghostsilver blade glittering his hand. He stepped forward and buried the dagger in Agria’s chest. Agria howled in rage, clawing at Ark, but she had no strength left. Ark wrenched the blade free, and Agria fell to her knees. She gazed up at Caina, her eyes filled with grief and horror. Then the life faded from her eyes, and Agria crumpled to the floor, her face frozen in that horrified mask. Caina wondered what Agria had seen in the final instant of her life.

  Perhaps Caina was better off not knowing.

  Mother. Lydia’s thought was full of quiet grief. I forgive you. I wished you had turned from this path.

  “How did you know?” said Ark, breathing hard.

  “Know what?” said Caina, staring at the body.

  “How that would make her lose control,” said Ark, handing the dagger back to her.

  “I didn’t,” muttered Caina. “But she murdered her daughter. She loved Lydia once. She couldn’t have killed her and…and felt nothing…”

  “Are you all right?” said Ark.

  “Not really,” said Caina. “But I can still fight.” She took a quick look around the chamber. The battle raged, the mercenaries falling back, the Legionaries fighting with a vengeance. She saw no sign of Icaraeus, nor any trace of Messana Heliorus or Vorena Chlorus.

  But the path was clear to the archway.

  “Let’s go,” said Caina. “Halfdan and Hiram can handle things here.” If they were still alive.

  She started forward, and felt a surge of tingling power, far stronger than anything Agria had ever conjured. The sheer force of it knocked Caina back a step, and for a moment her head spun and her stomach crawled. And still the power redoubled, and redoubled again, until the floor trembled with it. The corridor ahead suddenly shimmered with green light, and in the distance Caina saw lines of green flame writhing and twisting within the stone of Black Angel Tower’s understructure.

  Jadriga had begun the Opening of the Way.

  “What is this?” said Ark, staring at the new glow.

  “Jadriga’s begun,” said Caina, breaking into a run. “Hurry!”

  She caught a glimpse of his face, full of pain and rage. His son now lay upon the black slab, and might die at any moment. And if Jadriga might well have killed Tanya already.

  The floor shuddered, and Caina heard the thunderous rasp of steel against stone. She looked up, saw movement. The portcullis. She had last seen Icaraeus vanishing into the archway. He must have loosed the chains holding the portcullis.

  Even as the thought came to her, the massive portcullis began to fall.

  Caina flung herself forward. She hit the ground, rolled, and slid through the archway. An instant later the portcullis fell, slamming into the ground with the force of an earthquake, so close that she felt the breeze of its passage.

  Seali
ng her off from the others.

  Chapter 24 - The Duel

  “Ark!” called Caina, looking around as she rolled to her feet. “Ark, are you there?”

  “Aye,” snarled Ark, rising to one knee. He, too, had made it through before the portcullis had fallen. “The damn thing nearly gave me a shave, though.” He looked at the thick iron bars and grimaced. “It will take the others at least an hour to get through this.”

  “We might not have an hour,” said Caina.

  Ark nodded, and they started running. The rough stonework ended, and the smooth black stone of Black Angel Tower’s vaults began. Lines and ripples of green flame writhed within the dark stone, like lights shining through black glass. From time to time Caina caught glimpses of screaming faces within the stone, as if they had been frozen within the rock. The effect was disturbing, to say the least. But it provided better lighting than Caina’s last visit.

  It also meant that she could see Naelon Icaraeus waiting for them in the middle of the corridor, the green light shimmering on the length of his sword blade. Caina came to a stop twenty feet away, adjusting her grip on the ghostsilver dagger. Ark raised his staff in guard.

  “Both of you?” said Icaraeus, his deep voice amused. “Again? You are persistent to the point of madness.” His eyes shifted to Caina. “And you? Jadriga was right to warn me about you.” He shook his head. “All the trouble you’ve caused me. I should have killed you myself.” His eyes flicked back to the portcullis, the sword turning lazy circles in his hand. “I suppose Agria is dead?”

  “She is,” snarled Ark.

  “Useless bitch,” muttered Icaraeus. “She could never do anything right. What Jadriga saw in her, I’ll never know.”

  “I quite agree,” said Caina. Could she attempt a throw with the dagger? No, Icaraeus would see it coming. “Her taste in hirelings is deplorable.”

  Icaraeus’s lip curled. “You damnable Ghosts. Defiant to the end.”

  “And this is the end,” said Caina, circling to the side. “Jadriga’s spell will kill everyone in these vaults, everyone in Marsis. You among them.”