Child of the Ghosts

by Jonathan Moeller

  Then she saw him.

  He stood on the high balcony running along the length of the Great Hall, watching the crowd with amused interest. A patch hid the glowing green crystal embedded in his left eye socket, and he wore a cloak with the hood pulled up, no doubt to keep anyone from identifying him.

  But Caina could never forget him, no matter how much she wanted to.

  "Excuse me, sirs," said Caina, moving away from a group of nobles. Riogan looked up as she approached, and she whispered into his ear.

  "There," she said. "On the balcony, behind me. In the cloak."

  "That's him?" said Riogan. "Fellow with the patch over his eye?"

  Caina nodded.

  Riogan grunted. "Shorter than I expected. He's talking to someone."

  Caina turned, looking up just long enough to see Maglarion talking to a stout lord in an expensive blue coat.

  "We're taking him," said Riogan. "Now."

  "Just like that?" said Caina.

  Riogan nodded. "He's isolated on that balcony. Best chance we'll have. You distract him, and I'll creep up from behind and ventilate his guts with the ghostsilver blade. Now make up an excuse."

  Caina stepped to Julia. "I feel the need to stretch my legs. I think I will take a walk. Up to that balcony, perhaps. There's a fascinating man I've wanted to talk to for some time."

  Both Julia and Halfdan looked at her, eyes hard, and then nodded.

  "Do be careful, my dear," said Julia.

  "Not to worry," said Caina. "Raccard here," she glanced at Riogan, "will deal with anyone who threatens me, I'm sure."

  "Good luck," said Halfdan, "my lady."

  Caina nodded and followed Riogan across the Great Hall. A narrow flight of stairs led up to the balcony. Caina wished that she was wearing her shadow-cloak. It would have ruined her disguise, of course, but so long as she had it on, Maglarion could not break into her mind.

  Not that it would stop his spells from shattering every bone in her body, of course.

  She reached the balcony, Riogan a half-step ahead of her.

  Maglarion was gone.

  She looked around, saw him vanishing into a hallway, the stout lord in the blue coat walking before him. Riogan jerked his head in that direction, and Caina nodded, her heart racing. Would Maglarion recognize her face? She doubted it - she had been only one among his hundreds, even thousands, of victims. If he realized who she was, he might kill her on the spot. Or perhaps he would try to find out how she had escaped from his lair all those years ago.

  But if he remembered her from Lord Haeron's birthday, he would kill her on sight.

  Either way, she had to distract him long enough for Riogan to strike.

  The hallway was long and high, statues and busts standing in niches along the walls. Caina saw Maglarion vanish into a door of polished wood. She took a deep breath and followed. She would go in, get his attention, and give Riogan the chance to...

  "Where are you going?"

  The voice was toneless. Caina turned, as did Riogan.

  A tall, pale woman crossed the hallway towards them, dressed all in black. A black dagger hung in a sheath at her belt, her hand curled around the hilt. Her face was emotionless. Almost lifeless. Caina had seen corpses with more expression. The woman's pale eyes were cold, almost like looking into a frozen pond. Caina had seen eyes like that before, had...

  Recognition shot through her.

  Ikhana. Maglarion's lieutenant.

  She felt a nauseated tingle as Ikhana stepped forward. The dagger, Caina remembered. Ikhana had claimed that it could drain life energies from its victim and into its wielder. At the time, Caina had been too terrified to care. But now she felt the aura of dark power surrounding the weapon.

  "Where are you going?" said Ikhana, her voice still dead, but her knuckles tightened around the dagger's hilt.

  Caina drew up her chin. "It is not any of your concern, servant. I am a Countess of the Nighmarian Empire and may go where I wish. Now be off, or else I'll tell Lord Haeron of your insolence, and he'll have you beaten black and blue."

  "I know you," said Ikhana.

  "I've never seen you before," said Caina.

  Riogan stepped forward, hand on his sword hilt. "You offer my mistress impertinent words, wench. Get out of our way or you'll feel the back of my hand."

  The sight of Riogan with hand on sword would have frightened most people. But Ikhana did not move, did not blink her icy eyes.

  "Where have I seen you before?" she murmured. "Have I seen you before? No...I think not. But you are familiar. Yes. That is it. You remind me of someone. Someone the Master knew."

  Caina felt a drop of icy sweat trickle down her spine. The woman's monotone, her motionless eyes, made her seem like a dead thing. Ikhana remembered her. Or she remembered Laeria Amalas, and Caina looked like her mother.

  She had to distract Ikhana.

  The answer came to her.

  "Raccard," she said, putting a whine into her voice, and curling her arms around Riogan's neck. She had the brief satisfaction of seeing astonishment shoot into his cold eyes. "Raccard, you said we could sneak off together. And if Lady Julia ever found out about this, oh, I'd never heard the end of it. Raccard, make her go away."

  She planted a kiss on his cheek and rested her head against his shoulder.

  "Woman," said Rekan, his voice gruff. "My mistress, ah...she is feeling ill, and needs to lie down. Find her a bed she can use, now."

  Ikhana's eyes narrowed in contempt, and she walked away without another word.

  Caina disentangled herself from Riogan as soon as Ikhana was out of sight.

  "What is the matter?" said Riogan, smirking. "My lady is too good for a romp with her bodyguard?"

  "We have work to do," said Caina.

  Riogan's smirk vanished. No doubt he was more interested in killing Maglarion than kissing her. Or anyone. "Did you see where he went?"

  "That door," said Caina.

  Riogan nodded. "Then let's finish this. You distract him, I'll gut him."

  Caina reached for the door a crack, stopped.

  "What is it?" said Riogan.

  Her skin tingled. "He's casting a spell."

  "At us?"

  "No," said Caina. "And it's not...it's not powerful." She took a deep breath and opened the door.

  Beyond she saw a cavernous, darkened sitting room, with overstuffed couches and chairs resting on at thick carpet. Double doors opened onto a broad balcony, Maglarion standing near the marble railing.

  Six men in the black robes and purple sashes of master magi stood with him.

  "Stop," hissed Caina.

  "What?" murmured Riogan.

  "There are master magi with Maglarion," said Caina. "Six of them. Not even you can sneak up on all of them."

  "Go," said Riogan. "We'll try again later."

  Caina started to step back, then stopped. One of the magi wore a red sash instead of a purple one, and she recognized his face.

  Rekan.

  "Rekan's here," said Caina.

  Riogan cursed. "He's supposed to be at the Magisterium's chapterhouse."

  She dropped into a crouch and crept forward, skirts gathered in one hand. Riogan scowled at her for a moment, but followed. Caina huddled behind one of the massive couches and peered around the edge, listening. She didn't dare come any closer. She knew that Maglarion could reach into the minds of others, and he might sense her presence, or Riogan's. Or one of the master magi might have similar powers.

  "We respect you, of course, Maglarion," said one of the master magi, a balding man with a crooked nose. "You were one of the great magi of the Fourth Empire, and none of us can match your skill. Furthermore, your ability to survive for such a span of time is indeed remarkable. But you ask a great deal of us. The Magisterium is under constant pressure from the Ghosts and their allies among the nobles, and Emperor Alexius detests us. Flashy displays of power draw...unwelcome attention. As Lord Macrinius learned, you might recall. The storm you wish us t
o conjure will draw a great deal of unwelcome attention."

  "True, Caprinius, I ask a great deal of you," said Maglarion, smiling as he always smiled, "but I offer much in return. Observe."

  He gestured.

  The fat lord in the blue coat floated into Caina's field of vision, suspended in the power of Maglarion's spell.

  “Who is that?” said Caprinius.

  “Some lord or another,” said Maglarion. “He recognized me, and threatened to turn me over to the Magisterium unless I used my sorcery to enspell a wife for him.”

  The magi laughed.

  “You fear the Ghosts and their noble allies? You fear the Emperor?” said Maglarion. “With this, you need not fear them ever again.”

  He reached into his coat pocket and drew out a glass vial. Black fluid filled the vial, thick and viscous, and looking at it made the tingling sensation against Caina’s skin worse.

  And yet…she felt drawn towards the vial. Pulled towards it, like iron towards a lodestone. She blinked in confusion. She had never felt anything similar in the presence of sorcery before.

  “What is that?” said Caprinius. “Some manner of poison?”

  “Not at all,” said Maglarion. “Poisons have antidotes. This does not. Think of it as…oh, a pestilence, let us say. An illness in a bottle. Lord Haeron likes to call it ‘plagueblood’. Rather melodramatic, but it does capture the essence of the thing.” He pulled the cork from the vial. “You may want to stand back. Plagueblood is rather virulent.”

  Caprinius, Rekan, and the other magi took several prudent steps back.

  "One drop," said Maglarion, standing before the floating noble, "would be sufficient to kill at least ten thousand men, should it be mixed into their drinking water."

  "You'll make him drink it, then?" said Caprinius.

  "Of course not," said Maglarion. "If I let him open his mouth, he'll start to scream. And that might disturb Lord Haeron's ball. One must keep one's priorities in order."

  The magi shared a laugh, and Maglarion let a single drop of black plagueblood fall upon the skin of the lord's throat.

  Their laughter soon stopped.

  The lord thrashed and struggled against the grip of Maglarion's spell. As Caina watched, black cysts bloomed across his face and hands. The arms of his coat and the legs of his pants bulged as cysts swelled beneath the fabric. The cysts burst in rapid succession, tearing the poor man's face to shreds, thick yellow pus and black blood oozing down his neck and shoulders.

  Just as Alastair Corus had suffered, no doubt.

  Caina curled her shaking hand into a fist, willing it to stillness. She wanted to save the nobleman, wanted to bury her throwing knives in Maglarion's neck. But that would do no good. She had no weapon that could hurt Maglarion. Riogan had the ghostsilver blade, but even he could not move fast enough to kill Maglarion before he killed them both.

  So she did nothing and watched the nobleman die.

  Maglarion flicked a finger, and the corpse tumbled into the sitting room, blood and slime soaking into the thick carpet.

  "Remarkable," said Caprinius, though he sounded a bit ill. "Forgive the question, but...ah, are we in any danger of infection?"

  "None," said Maglarion. "That is the beauty of it. Plagueblood is only contagious if its maker wishes it to be so."

  "Remarkable," repeated Caprinius.

  "Do you see the possibilities?" said Maglarion, returning the cork to the vial. "Plagueblood is a weapon against which there can be no defense. You can destroy the Ghosts and their allies among the lords with ease. The Emperor himself can die, if you wish. Once I teach you the secrets of creating plagueblood, no one can stand against you. No one."

  The magi said nothing, but Caina saw the greed shining in their eyes.

  "Yes," said Caprinius. "You...speak wisdom, Maglarion."

  "In exchange for all that," said Maglarion, spreading his hands, "conjuring a rainstorm over the city seems like a small price to pay."

  "So it does," said Caprinius. He bowed to Maglarion, low and formal. "You shall have the storm you desire. Tomorrow night."

  "Thank you, master magus," said Maglarion. "I look forward to our collaboration."

  The master magi and Rekan bowed, and started towards the door. Caina slid backwards along the couch, Riogan moving besides her, avoiding the eyes of the magi.

  "Rekan," said Maglarion, voice quiet.

  Rekan stopped, turned. "What do you wish of me, Master?" Despite the dead man on the floor, despite the fact that Rekan was almost certainly a traitor, Caina was amused. Rekan had always been so arrogant. Now he hung on Maglarion's words like a dog crouching before its master.

  "I have...an extra task for you," said Maglarion.

  Rekan returned to Maglarion's side.

  "Do you know Graywater Square?" said Maglarion.

  "I do," said Rekan.

  "You're familiar, then, with the fountain there?" said Maglarion.

  Rekan nodded. "A remarkably fine fountain for such an impoverished district of the city. I believe it feeds off the Naerian Aqueduct."

  "Indeed," said Maglarion. He held out the plagueblood vial, and Rekan took it. "Take this and poison the fountain."

  "Master?" said Rekan.

  Maglarion smiled. "I wish one final test of the plagueblood. I am curious to see how long its effects will last. Graywater Square is quite crowded. I suspect...oh, two or three thousand people draw their drinking water from that fountain. I want to see how many of them shall die."

  "Quite a few of them, I should think," said Rekan, tucking the vial into his robes. "And you will send others into the city with the same mission, yes? To spread chaos before Lord Haeron takes the throne?"

  "Do not trouble yourself with that," said Maglarion. "Others shall deal with the Naerian Aqueduct itself tomorrow. Merely do as I bid. Fulfill my commands, Rekan, and you shall have the reward I have promised. You shall have it to the full."

  Something ugly kindled in Rekan's eyes. "Yes. Master."

  "Good," said Maglarion, walking around the nobleman's body. "Oh, have some of Haeron's servants tend to the corpse." He smiled. "They're rather used to it, by now."

  ***

  Chapter 30 - My Name Is Caina

  Caina tensed, preparing to tackle Rekan from behind.

  But he stayed too close to Maglarion, and both sorcerers left the sitting room.

  She took a deep breath, ignoring the smell of blood and decay from the dead nobleman, and hurried across the sitting room. Then she opened the door and slid into the hallway, hand tight around the handle of a throwing knife.

  Both Maglarion and Ikhana were gone. But she saw Rekan striding onto the balcony, black robes billowing around him. No doubt he was in a hurry to carry out Maglarion's instructions.

  To kill all those people in Graywater Square.

  Unless Caina stopped him.

  She started after Rekan.

  Riogan's hand closed about her shoulder. "Where do you think you're going?"

  Caina gave him an incredulous look. "To stop him."

  "Foolishness," said Riogan. "He might have allies. Better to tell Halfdan. That way we can feed Rekan false information, and dispose of him later."

  "And what about all those people in Graywater Square?" said Caina.

  Riogan shrugged. "Not our problem."

  Anger blazed up in Caina, and she almost struck him.

  "You tell Halfdan," said Caina. "I'm going after Rekan."

  Riogan did not let her go.

  "I'm going after Rekan," said Caina, "unless you stop me."

  "Foolish girl," said Riogan, but he released her shoulder.

  "Just tell Halfdan what happened," said Caina, and she hurried after Rekan.

  She did not have a hard time following him through the crowds. Rekan's black magus robe made sure that even nobles gave him a wide berth. Caina followed as closely as she dared, murmuring apologies as she slipped past frowning nobles and scowling merchants. Then Rekan walked onto the ground
s, and Caina hesitated.

  No one in their right mind troubled a brother of the Imperial Magisterium, and Rekan could walk wherever he wanted. But a noblewoman in silk and jewels had no such luxury, especially in a rough neighborhood like Graywater Square. Almost certainly Caina would draw unwelcome attention, perhaps even robbers.

  And if she was delayed, if Rekan got too far ahead of her...thousands of people in Graywater Square would die.

  But Caina knew Malarae, and she knew the fastest way to Graywater Square. If she moved quickly, she could intercept Rekan.

  She sprinted to Halfdan's coach.

  Shutting the door behind her, she knelt before the seat. A moment's work had the secret compartment open, and she pulled out a bundle of clothing.

  The darkness of the shadow-cloak fell over her hands.

  In a moment she stripped out of the blue gown and donned the black nightfighter clothes, the mask hiding her face, the cowl pulled up. She still smelled of perfume, but there was no time to wash. At least the shadow-cloak shielded her mind from any spells Rekan might throw at her.

  She left the coach and hurried into the night, keeping to the shadows. Caina moved as fast as she dared, leaving the nobles' mansions behind, entering the districts of the merchants and craftsmen. Yet she saw no sign of Rekan. If he had gotten past her, if he had taken a horse instead of walking...

  Then she saw him in the dark street, stark and tall in his black robes. Caina hurried after him, flowing from shadow to shadow, her cloak blurring with the night. Plans flitted through her mind. Should she confront him? Perhaps he would tell something useful about Maglarion. Should she try to capture him? Almost certainly he knew something about Maglarion's plans.

  Or should she simply kill him? Almost certainly she could not take him in a straight fight. If he brought his sorcery to bear against her, he would kill her quickly.

  And if Caina died, Rekan would murder everyone in Graywater Square.

  A dagger in the back, then. Before he had a chance to use his spells. Quick and easy, if not necessarily clean.

  She slipped a dagger from the sheath in her right boot. Step by step she closed upon Rekan, her feet making no sound against the street. From time to time Rekan stopped, glancing over his shoulder, but Caina melted into the shadows, and waited until he started walking again.