Ghost Dagger

by Jonathan Moeller

  Caina froze.

  A silver door stood in the warehouse's brick wall. Just looking at the strange silvery metal gave Caina a headache, and a hellish yellow-orange glow leaked through the cracks around the door. Like the door opened in a raging furnace that would sear the flesh from her bones.

  And she had seen that damned door before. She was sure of it.

  "What is that?" said Caina.

  "The door to Nicolai's cell," said Tanya. "Open it, and meet my son."

  "He's your son," said Caina. "Yours and Ark's. Why did you leave him in there?"

  "We need you to open the door for us," said Ark.

  "It doesn't look locked," said Caina.

  "It's not," said Tanya. "But, please, open it for us. Reunite us with our son, after so long."

  Caina gave a short, sharp nod. She could never have children of her own, not after what Maglarion had done to her. But she could reunite those grieving mothers with their captured children. She could make sure no slaver took a child ever again.

  She could return Nicolai to his mother and father.

  Caina stepped forward, reached for the door, and stopped.

  "I've seen this before," she murmured.

  Ark frowned. "What do you mean?"

  "Oh, for the gods' sake!" said Tanya. "Must you be so truculent? Just open the damned door already!"

  "It's not locked," said Caina, turning to face Tanya. "Why don't you open it? He's your son. Go and open the door."

  "You have to be the one to open it!" said Tanya, her voice rising. "It's the most important thing in the world. Open that door right now or my son will die!"

  "I have seen this door before, I’m sure of it" muttered Caina. She had seen that door in her father's library and the ballroom where she had danced with Alastair.

  But her father's library had burned, and Maglarion had blasted the ballroom to rubble.

  "Help me," pleaded Tanya. "Help me save my..."

  Then Caina remembered a dagger made from the same silvery metal as the door.

  "Shut up," said Caina.

  Tanya flinched, and rage flashed across Ark's face.

  "How dare you?" said Tanya. "My son is in there, and you'll leave him to die!"

  "No, he's not," said Caina, "because none of this is real."

  "What are you talking about?" said Ark.

  "This is a dream," said Caina. "Made by the dagger Tormalus dug up below Reorn's hall. And," she looked over Ark and Tanya, "I think one of you is actually Helena. Probably Tanya."

  "You've gone mad," said Tanya, "utterly..."

  Caina yanked a throwing knife from her belt and flung it at Tanya.

  Ark bellowed in fury, but Tanya disappeared in a silvery blur. She reappeared a dozen yards away as the knife bounced off the brick wall.

  "Ark!" shouted Tanya. "Stop her! She's trying to kill me!"

  Ark surged forward and seized Caina by the throat, slamming her against the wall. Caina felt herself choke, felt pain explode through her chest and the back of her head.

  "Put her through the door!" said Tanya. "I command it!"

  Ark heaved Caina towards the door. She struggled, but his hands held her in an iron grip. Caina tried to wrench her arms free from his grasp, tried to kick him, but it was like fighting a mountain...

  But it wasn't real.

  This was only a dream.

  She remembered how Tanya - or the woman wearing Tanya's form - had moved across the room in a heartbeat. No one could move like that, not even with the aid of sorcery. But in a dream, who could say what was possible?

  And if Helena could control the dream...why could Caina not do so as well?

  She concentrated, ignoring the pain, ignoring the ache in her bones. The pain wasn't real. Ark wasn't real. None of this was real.

  She pulled herself away from him...and his fingers parted like water.

  Caina stepped back, her breathing slow and steady. Ark bellowed in rage and came at her again, and Caina reached up with one hand. She caught his fist and held it there. His hand was twice the size of hers, his arm a solid column of muscle, yet she held it in place as easily as the hand of a small child.

  Then Caina punched him in the chest with her free hand.

  Ark rocketed upward, exploding through the ceiling, and soared into the air. She caught a brief glimpse of him, a distant speck in the blue sky, and then he vanished.

  Caina turned back to Tanya.

  "You may as well drop the disguise," she said. "I know who you are."

  Tanya rippled, like a reflection caught in the water, and she vanished.

  In her place stood Helena, face twisted with livid fury.

  "How did you do that?" hissed Helena. "Neither Tormalus nor Maelana could see past the illusions I spun. They walked through the door without hesitation."

  "If you were trying to lure me through that door," said Caina, "you did a poor job of choosing your illusions. I regret Alastair's death, but I never loved him, nor did he love me. I will never bear living children. Ark will never find his wife. And I watched my father die. I want those I have lost back, yes. I want to have children. I want Ark to find his wife and son. But I know those things will never happen. You might as well have promised to make me queen of the moon or the empress of the ocean."

  "An error," snarled Helena, "that I will now rectify!"

  She lifted her hand, and a sword appeared in her grasp, sharp and gleaming. She hurtled at Caina with the superhuman speed granted by this unreal place.

  But Caina was ready. She yanked a dagger from her belt, dodged the sword's flickering blade, and buried the dagger in Helena's chest.

  Helena screamed, and the world exploded in white light.

  ###

  Caina opened her eyes.

  She lay flat upon her back, and saw nothing but blank whiteness in all directions. For dreadful moment she thought she had gone blind, and she lifted her hands in front of her face. But she saw her fingers, saw the muscles in her forearms clenching.

  She frowned, looked down at herself, and realized that she was naked.

  Caina sat up in alarm. In all directions, she saw nothing but blank whiteness. She felt the floor beneath the bare skin of her legs, but if felt like...nothing at all.

  Now more curious than alarmed, she got her legs beneath her and stood.

  A pale man in a crimson robe with elaborate golden trim appeared before her.

  Caina took a step back, hands coming up to defend or attack. But the man only gazed at her with black, lifeless eyes, and did not move. His expression held not a hint of emotion. Not even a trace of interest, and Caina suspected that few men could have a naked woman appear in front of them without displaying some sort of reaction.

  "Those robes," she said. "Those robes were worn by the Saddai Ashbringers of old."

  "Yes," said the man, his voice deep and rumbling.

  "Are you an Ashbringer?" said Caina.

  "No," said the man.

  He said nothing else.

  "Who are you, then?" said Caina.

  "I am a portion of the memories," said the robed man, "of the Ashbringer known to you as the Master of Dreams. When he created this dagger," he gestured at the whiteness around him, "he left an imprint of his thoughts upon the spells binding it. I am that imprint."

  "Where am I?" said Caina.

  "You are within the artificial dream realm created by the dagger," said the Master of Dreams. "I practiced the forbidden sciences of oneiromancy, blasphemous to the Burning Flame, and created this dagger as a weapon against my enemies. Using it, I would control the dreams of my foes, and plant compulsions and commands within their minds."

  "But something went wrong," said Caina, "didn't it?"

  "You are correct," said the Master of Dreams. "Unfortunately, my creation was flawed. At best, it would induce homicidal insanity in its victims. At worst, it would kill them in a particularly horrible fashion - their blood would erupt from every orifice, killing them in a matter of moments."
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  "I noticed," said Caina.

  "I attempted to repair the flawed spells," said the Master of Dreams, "but the process went amiss, and I killed myself in the attempt. All that remains is this imprint of my memories upon the dagger's binding spells." The shade looked around the empty whiteness. "Spells which are now collapsing."

  “Collapsing?” said Caina. “What do you mean?”

  "I sense two minds linked to the dagger," said the Master of Dreams. "Yours, and the woman attempting to kill you. When you struck her dream-image, you shattered one of the controlling spells upon the dagger. The rest are now unraveling. The dream realm your opponent created vanished, and you found yourself here."

  "So the dagger's spells are about to break," said Caina. "And when they do, I wake up."

  "Your assessment is optimistic," said the Master of Dreams. "If your mind is still linked to the dagger when the spells collapse, it will almost certainly result in your death."

  "Then if this is a dream," said Caina, "why can’t I just wake up?"

  "You cannot," said the Master of Dreams, "because you were brought here against your will. You can only escape by overpowering the one who brought you here."

  "Helena," said Caina. "How?"

  "The controlling spells have collapsed," said the Master of Dreams. "She can no more end the artificial dream than you can. You must therefore face each other in a contest of will. Should you prevail, you will awaken without harm."

  "And if Helena prevails?" said Caina.

  "Then your mind will be linked to the dagger when the spells unravel," said the Master of Dreams, "and you will die."

  "A contest of will?" said Caina. "What does that mean?"

  The Master of Dreams gestured at the white nothingness. "This is the dream realm. Your thoughts create the reality here. Wield your mind against hers, and you shall prevail. Or she shall destroy you."

  "Thoughts make reality?" said Caina.

  She lifted her right hand and stared at it, imaging a dagger. She remembered the heft of a weapon, the feel of a hilt against her fingers, the gleam of the blade...

  A dagger appeared in her hand.

  "Nice trick," said Caina, turning the blade over.

  "It is no trick," said the Master of Dreams, "merely the applied force of your will altering..."

  Caina ignored him and concentrated on herself. Her nightfighter clothes appeared around her, the black jacket, the black pants, the black boots and gloves. Her shadow-cloak fell from her shoulders, and her belt of weapons wrapped itself around her waist.

  "A door," said Caina. "I want a door that will take me to Helena."

  A steel door appeared before her, the exact color of her throwing knives.

  Caina took a deep breath, opened the steel door, and stepped through it.

  Chapter 9 - Take My Memories

  A storm raged overhead, lightning dancing through the clouds.

  The lightning illuminated a surreal landscape. Caina stood on a cliff of lusterless black ice overlooking a jagged valley. Mountains and peaks and crags rose around her, all carved from the same black ice. She saw no traces of any living things, neither plants nor animals nor people.

  The silver door stood at the far end of the valley.

  A web of cracks covered the silvery door, leaking fiery light of their own. The door was starting to shatter, just as the spells upon the dagger had begun to unravel. Caina wondered what would happen when they broke entirely.

  She didn't want to be here to find out.

  "Caina Amalas!"

  The voice screamed from the black sky, the lightning rumbling overhead in answer.

  Helena appeared before the silver door, clad in black armor that looked as if it had been fashioned by a blacksmith with a taste for the macabre. Spikes and metal skulls adorned the plates, and the reliefs across the cuirass showed Reorn dying upon a wooden stake. A twelve foot spear of glittering black ice rested in Helena's right hand. The thing was twice her height and at least thrice her weight, but Helena hefted the weapon as if it were a slender branch.

  "You ruined it!" said Helena. "I could have had everything I wanted! Money, freedom, and Reorn rotting in the ground! But you had to come along and ruin everything!"

  "You murdered Tormalus and Maelana," said Caina.

  Helena laughed. "I have seen into your mind! I know you detest the magi, Ghost. If I had not killed Tormalus, you would have done so!"

  "Only if he had abused the dagger the way you have," said Caina. "And you murdered Maelana."

  "She deserved it!" said Helena. "Reorn thought to divorce me and wed her! Well, she died screaming, and I'll do the same to Reorn."

  "Not unless I stop you," said Caina.

  "But you won't," said Helena, grinning beneath her black helm. "I spoke with the shade of the Ashbringer that forged this dagger, and I know how to prevail. I will break you, Ghost, and return to the waking world. And when I do, I will trap Reorn's mind here, and blame the deaths upon you."

  "Brave words," said Caina. "Are you bold enough to act upon them?"

  In answer, Helena flung the massive black spear.

  She stood hundreds of yards away, yet the spear shot across the valley with incredible speed. Caina threw herself to the left, moving as fast as she could. She knew how fast her legs could take her in the waking world, but her, in this strange dream, her thoughts threw her forward terrific speed.

  The spear slammed into the ledge where Caina had been standing, and the black cliff exploded into a billion jagged shards of ice. The ledge disintegrated beneath Caina's boots, and she jumped, soaring over the valley like a stone fired from a catapult, her shadow-cloak billowing behind her.

  She plunged down, daggers angled to stab.

  Helena turned and sped away.

  Caina thrust both of her boots down, imagining the ice beneath her shattering.

  She struck the valley floor...and the sheet of black ice exploded for a hundred yards in every direction. The mountains echoed with the terrible cracking noise, and a shock wave of jagged ice swept through the valley. The blast knocked Helena from her feet, sent her sprawling with a clang of black armor.

  Caina snatched a throwing knife from her belt. Her throwing knives could not penetrate steel plate, but she imagined the knife glowing white-hot, a shard of molten metal to rip through Helena’s armor like paper. The knife smoked in her hand, and Caina flung one blade, and then another. Helena scrambled back to her feet with a curse, and the first white-hot knife screamed past her, leaving a melted furrow in the icy ground. The second clipped Helena’s shoulder, shattering the armor plate and staggering the older woman.

  Caina shot forward, thunder booming her wake, daggers angled for Helena.

  But Helena stomped her armored foot. The entire valley shook again, more shards of jagged ice raining from the broken cliffs. Caina stumbled and lost her balance. Helena gestured, her face straining with concentration.

  And the cliffs and mountains of black ice transmuted into walls of bubbling lava. Hellish light filled the valley, the heat striking Caina like a blow. The cliffs and mountains melted, a towering wall of lava rushing towards her.

  “Burn!” shouted Helena, and she jumped, vanishing into the storm clouds overhead.

  Caina watched the sea of lava surge towards her. How to escape the lava? She couldn’t outrun it, and in a matter of moments the entire valley would drown beneath liquid stone.

  The answer occurred to her.

  If Helena could fly, then why couldn’t she?

  Caina sprang into the air, soaring over the lava as it swallowed the valley whole. She stabbed into the clouds, her shadow-cloak snapping and billowing behind her. Lightning snarled and flashed overhead, and she caught a glimpse of Helena flying through the clouds.

  Caina willed herself towards the black-armored woman.

  Helena pointed, and a dozen lightning bolts shot into Caina. The blasts sent her spinning head over heels. Agony erupted through her, her arms and legs twitching
of their own volition. Caina felt herself tumbling back towards the seething ocean of lava.

  But the pain wasn’t real.

  Her descent stopped.

  Caina willed herself back towards the clouds. Helena pointed again, but this time Caina was ready. The lightning bolts struck her and rebounded, deflected by her thoughts. Caina rose above the clouds, lightning flashing below her, and a dark and empty sky rising above.

  She saw the clouds ripple as Helena flew through them, like a fish swimming through murky water.

  If Helena could change the black ice to burning lava…then why couldn’t Caina do the same to the clouds?

  She concentrated, focusing on the writhing clouds below her.

  And all at once they transmuted from cloud to earth. The city of Malarae rose up beneath Caina, rows upon rows of mansions and warehouses and tenements and docks. If Caina guessed right, Helena was now in Malarae’s dockside warehouse district. Helena might have been born in Malarae, but Caina suspected she did not know the dockside streets and alleyways.

  Caina plunged back to earth, her boots making no sound against the street, and hurried from shadow to shadow. The shadows flowed around her in response to her mental command, and she moved far more quickly and with greater stealth than she could have managed in the waking world.

  “Face me, Ghost!” screamed Helena. A black-armored shape shot overhead, holding an enormous axe fashioned of living flame. Helena fell to earth like a comet and began stalking through the street, making warehouses and taverns disappear with a wave of her hand. Yet Caina remained hidden. The shadows followed her, keeping her wrapped in the darkness.

  Helena could not find her.

  “Come out, damn you!” shouted Helena. “You cannot hide forever.”

  Caina didn’t intend to.

  Helena walked past her hiding place, and Caina focused upon the daggers in her fists. They began to glow white-hot, like bolts of captured lightning. Helena started to turn, sensing something amiss, but it was too late.

  Caina sprang upon her, both the blades punching through Helena’s armor to sink deep into her flesh.

  Helena screamed in pain and slammed her armored fist into Caina’s chest. The force of the blow hurled her backwards, and she smashed through a dozen brick walls like a tumbling boulder, coming to a ragged stop on one of the piers jutting into the harbor. Pain flooded through her, and she could not stand.