The Ghosts Omnibus One

by Jonathan Moeller

  The mention of Agria stirred Caina’s mind. “There’s something else you should know. I think I figured out what Agria and her friends are doing with those slaves.”

  Both Halfdan and Ark looked at her.

  “She’s killing them,” said Caina, voice quiet. “Whenever I meet her, she keeps talking about how her mystic ‘blessings’ can smooth away wrinkles, can turn back age itself. That kind of transformation is possible…but only with black sorcery. Necromancy. The way Maglarion did it. She’s the necromancer Nicorus warned us about. She’s murdering the slaves and using their blood and flesh to fuel her spells. I’m certain of it.”

  “That is monstrous,” said Ark. “Dealing in slaves is bad enough, but this…”

  There was no conviction to his voice.

  “That explains how Agria and her friends purchased hundreds of slaves,” said Caina, “and why we haven’t seen a single trace of them. She probably has a mass grave somewhere under her mansion, or in Messana’s grounds.”

  Halfdan’s face grew grimmer. “Then Icaraeus has even more to answer for when we catch him. And it looks like Hiram gets to become Lord of House Palaegus after all.”

  “There’s something else, too,” said Caina. She looked at Ark. “You’re not going to like this.”

  He did his almost-smile. “I’ve been a Ghost for over five years. I’m used to bad news by now.”

  “Tigrane was at Hruzac,” said Caina. “He and another man named Rhicon. They mentioned it in passing.”

  Halfdan muttered a curse. Ark remained motionless. He did not even blink. Caina knew him well enough to be alarmed.

  “Did they say anything else?” said Ark, voice toneless.

  “Only that whatever happened at Hruzac was a mess, and that Tigrane didn’t want to talk about it,” said Caina. “I’m sorry.”

  Ark shook his head. “No. Don’t be.” His fist squeezed against the hilt of his broadsword. “I am…glad that the slave ship sank, I suppose. Yes. I am glad. At least my wife and son were spared…whatever it is that Lady Palaegus does to her slaves. At least they were spared that.”

  “We’ll bring them down, Ark,” said Halfdan. “Icaraeus and Agria Palaegus both.”

  “You had better,” said Ark. Caina saw the veins standing out on his temples. “Otherwise I’ll kill them myself. Both of them.”

  “Hiram will be disappointed,” said Caina.

  “Hiram can be damned,” said Ark. “I’ll give him Lady Palaegus’s head for an apology.” He fell silent, breath rasping through his nostrils.

  Caina hesitated, and touched his arm. Ark flinched, and Caina saw the anguish in his eyes. “We’ll find Icaraeus, and he’ll pay for what he’s done. One way or another. I promise you that, Ark.”

  Ark took a deep breath, collected himself, and gave a sharp nod. “We’d better get back to the Inn.”

  ###

  The next morning, Caina awoke, shaking off the final shreds of the strange nightmares that still plagued her. She went through her morning ritual of unarmed forms and a bath, and felt much better afterwards. In fact she felt a fierce eagerness. For years Icaraeus had been free to spread misery and sorrow.

  Tomorrow night, they might find the key to his defeat.

  Caina wrapped herself in a robe and went to the living room in search of breakfast. Ark sat at the table, sharpening his weapons.

  “This came for you,” said Ark, nodding at a sealed scroll on the table. “From a messenger in Palaegus livery.”

  Caina scowled, picked up the scroll, and broke the seal.

  “It’s an invitation,” said Caina. “Lady Agria is holding a dinner tonight for a few friends, and she would like me to join her.” She sighed and tossed the scroll aside.

  “Are you going to go?” said Ark.

  “I have to go,” said Caina. “If I don’t go, she might become suspicious. And if she becomes suspicious, she might flee the city before we can take her. Someone of her sorcerous abilities…if she flees, we’ll never catch her again.”

  “If she’s as powerful as you think,” said Ark, “it will be dangerous.”

  “Of course it will be dangerous,” said Caina. “I’ll just have to be on my guard.”

  She hoped that would be enough.

  Chapter 13 - Jadriga

  The coach rattled to a halt before Agria Palaegus’s mansion, and Caina tried to take a deep breath. Her blue gown felt too tight around the bodice and stomach, and she wished she had worn something else. But too late now.

  Caina stepped into the night, Ark waiting for her.

  “Are you ready for this?” said Caina.

  Ark gave a short, sharp nod, his eyes burning.

  “You sure?” said Caina. “You look like you want to kill someone.”

  Ark glanced at the mansion. “I do.”

  “Don’t let it show,” said Caina, voice low. “The whole point of this is to avoid suspicion. If Agria notices you, she might decide to look into your mind. That would be very bad for us.”

  Ark took a deep breath, nodded again, and closed his eyes. A moment later his face settled into its usual grim mask. “Better?”

  “Much,” said Caina.

  “What if they try to look into your thoughts?” said Ark.

  “I'll be on my guard,” said Caina. “And Agria’s tried and failed before. I know what it feels like. Hopefully I can distract Agria, break her concentration, if she does try something.” Again Caina tried to take a deep breath and failed. Damned gown. “Let’s get this over with.”

  Agria’s footmen bowed and opened the doors for her. A liveried servant greeted her, and led her into the mansion’s cavernous hall. A single small table stood in the center, laden with rich foods and wine. Agria Palaegus, Messana Heliorus, and Vorena Chlorus sat around the table, laughing and talking.

  “My lady,” said the servant. “Anna Callenius, daughter of Basil, master of the Imperial Collegium of Jewelers.”

  “Anna, dear,” said Agria, rising. She took both of Caina’s hands and kissed her cheek.

  It took every ounce of Caina’s self-control to keep smiling, now that she knew what Agria was, but she did it. She kissed the older woman on the cheek and stepped back. “It is…good to see you again, my lady. I fear I have not had the chance for a good talk with other women since my father brought me to Marsis.”

  “We’ll just have to take care of that, won’t we?” said Agria. She glanced at Ark and frowned. “My dear, I thought I invited just you, and you alone.”

  “But I did come alone,” said Caina. “Oh, you mean Arlann? Well, you don’t expect me to travel the streets alone at night? My father would never hear of it.”

  “Of course, of course. That was thoughtless of me,” said Agria. She waved a dismissive hand at Ark. “You may wait by the doors.”

  Ark bowed and retreated. Agria forgot about him at once. She looked…excited, somehow, almost anticipatory. She led Caina to the table, and they both sat down.

  “So nice that you could come,” said Messana.

  “Thank you, my lady,” said Caina. “I am honored.”

  “Tell us,” said Agria, “have you found a husband yet?”

  “No,” said Caina. She looked at the wine, wondered if it was drugged. “Not yet, I am afraid. My father has yet to find a fat old man with an adequate amount of money.”

  “Well,” said Vorena, “when you do get married, do whatever you can not to have children.”

  “I am sorry?” said Caina.

  “Children,” said Vorena. “I have one son…and just between us, I regret it sorely.”

  “You wanted more, my lady?” said Caina. “Or perhaps a daughter as well?”

  “More?” said Vorena. “Don’t be ridiculous, child. I wish the little brat had never been born.”

  Agria leaned forward, a predatory glint in her eye. “Go on.”

  “I hate him,” said Vorena. She gestured at herself. “I used to be slender and pretty. And now look at me! Look at what giving birth
has done to me. I used to draw the eye of every man in the room.” She shook her head. “I would take him back if I could. I look at him…and see that he has his whole life ahead of him, years of youth and vigor and strength. I gave that to him. I gave that to him! Why shouldn’t I take it back? It belonged to me, after all. He stole it from me.”

  Caina was aghast. She hoped it didn’t show on her expression.

  “Now, Vorena,” said Agria. She reached over and patted the other woman’s hand. “We all have those feelings sometimes.”

  “Sometimes?” said Vorena. “I feel this way all the time. I used to feel guilty about it…but then I listened to you. I started to think about what you had to say. And it made sense to me. Why shouldn’t I be free? Why shouldn’t I be free of…of my son?”

  “But,” said Caina, “I don’t want to marry a fat old man, of course, but…children were always the one bright spot.”

  “Oh, my poor innocent child,” said Messana, smiling. “Tell me. Have you ever even shared a bed with a man?”

  Caina had. Better that they didn’t know that. She shook her head.

  “My dear,” said Agria, “I find that I like you, so please don’t take this too harshly. You are young, and I’m afraid your head has been filled with nonsense. A husband and children are not good things. They are curses, chains holding you back from your full potential. Husband and children and pregnancy and age…these things are the bane of women. But the blessings we have learned can drive these things back, can defeat them once and for all. We can be free…free of all constraint and law, free to do whatsoever we will.”

  Agria went on for some time, describing the wonders of her mystic blessings. Caina listened, keeping an interested face, but her heart and mind roiled with rage. She wanted children of her own. The ability to bear them had been carved from her flesh by Maglarion's knife. And to sit here and listen to these women who murdered slaves and used their blood in arcane spells…

  Yet she her mind still worked. It seemed that Agria and Messana had been trying to persuade Vorena Chlorus to do something…and that Vorena had just decided to do it. But what?

  “It seems to me,” said Agria, “that the old Szaldic story of the Moroaica ought to be our guide.”

  Caina blinked. “The…Moroaica? Forgive me, lady, but isn’t that just a fable?”

  “And a grisly one, too,” said Messana with a smile. “A demon that snatches away the souls of newborn children? Only the Szalds could believe that sort of nonsense.”

  “But instructive nonsense,” said Agria. “Think of it. A woman of power, bound to no laws save her own will, free to do as she pleases. That is what I desire for myself. That is what I desire for each of you. That glorious freedom.”

  “I…fear I am far weaker than you, my lady,” said Caina. “I desire only a home of my own, and to live in peace and quiet.”

  Agria laughed and shook her head. “Young women always think that way. If you gain those things you will find them stifling. I did, and…”

  She stopped, her eyes going distant for a moment.

  “Yes,” said Agria. “Yes, I think so.”

  “Agria?” said Messana. “Is it…”

  “Yes,” said Agria, rising from the table. “It is time.” She smiled at Caina. “Come with us, child. It is time for you to see something that will allay all your doubts, all your fears.”

  Caina hesitated. She doubted that Agria had anything good in mind. Yet Caina could not back out now. If worse came to worse, she could overpower Agria and the others and escape. Only Agria had demonstrated any serious ability to wield arcane power, and Caina doubted that any of the noblewomen had much skill in hand-to-hand combat. Caina could escape, if it became necessary.

  Assuming, of course, that she overpowered Agria before the older woman cast a spell.

  Caina rose with the others. “Where are we going, my lady?”

  “The gardens,” said Agria. “You’ll see when we get there.”

  Caina followed Agria to the gardens, and then down a gravel path, trimmed bushes and rows of flowers on either side. Caina shivered in the nighttime chill, and then realized that she felt more than a chill. Her skin tingled with the faint presence of sorcerous power. She looked around, but neither Agria nor the others were casting a spell.

  The path ended at a small pond, its rippling waters reflecting the moonlight. The Citadel and Black Angel Tower loomed in the background. A woman in a flowing crimson gown stood by the waters, gazing up at Black Angel Tower. The silvery light glimmered in her black hair, and a black veil hid her face.

  She stood motionless as a statue, her attention fixed upon Black Angel Tower.

  The tingle sharpened, and Caina’s skin crawled, her stomach twisting.

  “You wondered,” said Agria, “how I learned my arts, how I learned the path of blessings. Didn’t you?”

  “I did,” said Caina.

  “This is the one who opened my eyes,” said Agria, voice reverent. “This is the one who showed me how the world could be.”

  The veiled woman turned towards them.

  “This is my teacher,” said Agria. “Her true title you cannot learn until you have become one of us. But for now, you may call her Jadriga.”

  Jadriga. Caina remembered what Hiram had said about Agria’s mysterious teacher.

  Agria gripped her skirts and did a deep curtsy, as did her friends. Caina followed suit, not wanting to draw suspicion. The veiled woman regarded them for a moment, neither moving nor speaking.

  The sorcerous tingle sharpened, tightened.

  “My daughters,” said Jadriga at last. Her voice was strong and rich. Caina could image it filling an amphitheater with song as the crowd roared its approval. She spoke High Nighmarian flawlessly, with an almost archaic formality. “It is good of you to come.”

  “How could we refuse you?” said Agria. “You, who have given us so much.”

  “And you has served me well,” said Jadriga. Caina felt the weight of the veiled woman’s gaze. “Is this the one you have told me of, my daughter?”

  “She is,” said Agria.

  “What is your name, child?” said Jadriga.

  “Anna Callenius, daughter of Basil Callenius, a master of the Imperial Collegium of Jewelers,” said Caina.

  “And I have had many names, and I am of many places,” said Jadriga. “But as Agria said, you may simply call me Jadriga. Tell me. What is your purpose in coming to Marsis?”

  “My father wishes me to find a husband,” said Caina.

  “Ah,” said Jadriga. “So I see. Yes, Agria. You did well in bringing her to me.”

  Agria beamed.

  Jadriga reached to her face, drawing back the black veil, and despite herself, Caina gasped.

  Jadriga was beautiful, radiant. Flawless. She looked like a Szaldic maiden of eighteen years or so. Except for her black eyes. They were ancient, heavy with the weight of knowledge and power and will. Caina had looked into the eyes of hardened killers, of power-mad magi, of men who could kill a child and sleep dreamlessly afterwards.

  None of them had eyes as cold or as hard as Jadriga’s.

  “Agria,” said Jadriga, voice soft. “Leave us for a moment. I would like to speak with Anna.”

  Agria did another curtsy, and she withdrew with the others, leaving Caina alone with Jadriga. Caina stared at the other woman, trying to keep her face calm. It was hard. Jadriga stepped closer, and the sorcerous tingle redoubled, became almost painful. Caina realized that Jadriga must have an active spell upon her person. Probably several of them, to judge from the strength of the tingle. Defensive wards, most likely.

  “Pardon, my lady,” said Caina. “But…I am not very much older than you. How did you learn such tremendous knowledge?”

  “I am…considerably…older than I look. You’re not like them,” said Jadriga.

  “Who, my lady?” said Caina.

  “Agria and her friends.”

  “Of…of course not,” said Caina. “They are no
ble born, of high Imperial lineage, and I am only a merchant’s daughter.”

  A flicker of a smile passed Jadriga’s red lips. “No. Titles mean nothing. I may look young, but I am not. I know how to use my eyes. I can see that you have known pain. Terrible pain. It almost destroyed you, didn’t it? Yet you endured. You have become strong.”

  “Yes,” said Caina. “Yes, I have known pain. But all who live have known pain.” The memory of her torments with Maglarion and his students filled her, and she shoved it aside. “But pain is to be endured, nothing more.”

  This time Jadriga did smile. “You remind me of myself, when I was still young.”

  Caina could think of nothing to say to that.

  “I knew pain,” said Jadriga. “But, like you, it made me strong. It made me stronger than my tormentors, and I destroyed them. Now I grow even stronger. And soon I shall become so strong than no one will ever have the power to harm me again. How has your pain made you strong, I wonder?”

  “I…” said Caina. She knew a dozen different languages, how to throw knives and open locks, how to fight with her bare hands, how to move unseen, how to disguise herself so she could pass unnoticed. Yet she often wondered what her life would have been like if her mother had not sold her to Maglarion.

  Again she shoved the thoughts aside. Whether though sorcery or simple cunning, Jadriga was far more observant than Caina liked. “I don’t understand what you mean, my lady. My father only made me come to Marsis to find a husband.”

  “A husband,” said Jadriga. “Yes. Of course. Like the widows Agria and Messana and Vorena, perhaps?” She looked at the mansion, black hair and veil stirring in the breeze. “They have no vision, no ambition. They want only to live forever in luxury and carnality. They think they have known pain, but they have not. Their lives have been ones of comfort and ease. They are small-minded, enslaved to petty indulgences. They know little of real pain.” She looked back at Caina. “Unlike us.”

  “Then why teach them?” said Caina.