“You are different.”
“How?”
“You are different!” said Lydia. “You can see me. No one else can. You can see me. Because you are different.” She pointed at Caina’s stomach. “You are scarred. Changed. And so you can see me.”
Caina flinched. “You mean…what Maglarion did to me. When I was a child. I can see you because of what they did to me.”
The specter nodded. “You knew the pain I knew. Your mother betrayed you. Her teacher used your blood. But I died. You survived.”
“But why have you appeared to me?” said Caina.
“She must be stopped.”
“Who?” said Caina. “Agria, your mother? Jadriga?”
“Both.”
“You want revenge, then.”
“No!” Lydia’s face flickered with pain. “No. Blood begets only more blood. You must stop them. You must stop them!”
“Because of the Opening of the Way,” said Caina.
“They will do a wicked thing,” said Lydia. “Many terrible things are chained in the prison. They will do great evil, if my mother and her teacher free them. You must stop it.”
“How?” said Caina. “Jadriga is powerful, more powerful than anyone I’ve ever met. Do you know how to stop her?”
The specter shook her head.
“So it’s up to me, then,” muttered Caina. Water splashed against her boots. The level of the pool had indeed risen, and seawater was trickling from some of the tunnels. The tide was coming in. Very soon this entire cavern would lie underwater.
And so would Caina, if she didn’t find a way out.
“I must go,” said Caina. “You have my word that I will stop Jadriga and your mother, or die trying. But if I stay here any longer I will join you in death.”
She stepped towards the middle passageway.
“No!”
Caina turned. Lydia walked, or perhaps floated, across the rippling pool, her arms raised in supplication.
“You cannot go that way,” said Lydia. “That way lies your death.”
“Then how can I get out of here?” said Caina.
“I can show you,” said Lydia. “But I am bound to this place. Let me enter you, and I can show you the way out.”
“You mean…possess me?” said Caina. She remembered what Jadriga had done to her memory at Agria’s mansion. “Absolutely not. I’ve had enough of people digging through my mind.”
“No,” said Lydia. “I cannot harm you. I cannot control you. I can only aid you. Please. All other paths end in your death. I have seen it.”
The water was splashing over the toes of Caina’s boots. She stared at the specter, thinking hard. It could be a trap. She had heard stories of the restless dead lingering upon the earth, but had never thought to see one.
But Lydia had helped her once already, hadn’t she?
“All right,” said Caina. “Do it.”
Lydia nodded, stepped forward, and touched Caina’s chest.
The world changed around her. Caina shivered and grabbed at the wall for support. The dizziness passed, and Lydia vanished. Yet Caina still felt her presence, like a breeze upon her face. It was not onerous, but not something she could ignore, either. Caina straightened up, and stepped away from the wall.
The first thing she noticed was how much sharper her vision had become. She saw the cavern in far greater detail than before, could practically count the individual grains of sand upon the floor. The blue light strapped to her arm did a far better job of illuminating the cave.
The second thing she saw was the spirits.
Dozens of them drifted through the cavern, faces twisted in silent grief. A specter who looked much like Hiram Palaegus stood a short distance away, staring at Caina in anguish. The spirit of Martin Palaegus, she realized, Lydia’s father. All the spirits looked as if their throats had been cut, and wandered in silence.
Jadriga’s victims.
“So many,” whispered Caina.
You see why she must be stopped.
Lydia’s faint voice echoed inside Caina’s head.
“Which way?” said Caina.
The rightmost passage.
Caina nodded and started walking. The rightmost passage was narrow and twisting, but sloped downward only gently. The water got deeper, soon splashing around her ankles, then her knees. The tunnel opened into another small room, more bones heaped against the wall, more anguished spirits watching her with pleading eyes.
There were three more tunnels in the far wall.
“Well?” said Caina.
The leftmost. Hurry. Soon the tunnels will flood.
Caina broke into a jog. The water was up to her hips by now, surging against her, and Caina fought to keep her balance. A glimmer of yellow light shone ahead. Caina raced forward, struggling against the water, and reached the cavern’s entrance.
She emerged from a salt-stained pile of rocks into a swirling tidal pool. The morning sun peered from the east, just rising over the horizon, and Caina turned to face it, letting the warmth soak into her.
She had never been so glad to see the sun.
I never thought I would see the sun again.
It may have been Lydia’s thought, but it matched Caina’s.
She struggled to a rocky beach and looked around. The walls of Marsis loomed over her, the distant shape of the Citadel and Black Angel Tower rising even higher. The harbor lay perhaps three-quarters of a mile to the north, a maze of masts and piers entangled together. Beyond the harbor stretched the city, rows upon rows of houses and warehouses and mansions and temples, home to thousands of people.
Thousands of people that would die, if she did not find a way to stop Jadriga.
Caina pulled off her cloak and mask. Her black clothing would stand out during the day, but between the salt stains on her boots and trousers, and the sweat and dirt on her face, hopefully she could pass as a drunken man wobbling his way home after a long night of drinking.
She moved as fast as she dared.
###
Caina pounded the correct sequence of knocks on the warehouse door, waited, pounded it again. She gritted her teeth, thinking. She had no idea where Halfdan or Ark might be by now, but…
The door swung open, and Jiri stood just inside, one of Radast’s complex crossbows held at the ready.
“You’re alive!” said Jiri. “Come in, come in quickly. All the news has been bad. Basil sent a message, saying that Icaraeus escaped and you disappeared…”
Caina gripped Jiri’s arm. “Did Basil leave a way to send him a message?”
“He did,” said Jiri. “He and Arlann were searching the mansion and the docks for any sign of Icaraeus or…”
“Send the message now,” said Caina. “Tell him to get back here and hurry.” She looked at the light leaking underneath the warehouse door and frowned. “We’ve only got until midnight.”
Chapter 22 - Battle Plans
Caina worked at one of the tables, cleaning her weapons. She sharpened the blades and laid a fresh coat of oil over them. From time to time she took a bite from the plate of bread and sausage Jiri had given her, washing it down with a mouthful of wine.
Caina was surprised to find that she was ravenous. After the horrors she had witness, she thought her appetite would have fled. But it had been a busy night, after all.
“You look terrible,” said Jiri.
“I probably do,” said Caina, finishing with one knife and starting on the next.
“What happened?” said Jiri.
“Radast was right,” muttered Caina. “All those vanished beggars. All those people afraid to let their children go outside. There is something wrong in Marsis. We just couldn’t see it.”
“And you saw it?” said Jiri. “You found what is wrong?”
“Yes,” said Caina. “I did.”
The correct knock came at the warehouse door. Jiri hobbled over, crossbow in hand, and opened it. Halfdan, Ark, Ducas, Radast, and Hiram Palaegus entered, looking tired and grim.
> A surge of emotion went through Caina at the sight of Hiram, and she took a half-step towards him. Her uncle. He had always smiled at her, given her presents, and she had drawn pictures for him. She had never thought to see him again…
It took a moment for Caina to realize that the emotions and memories were Lydia’s, and not her own.
“Should he be here?” said Jiri, pointing the bow at Hiram.
“He’s in as deep as we are,” said Ducas, voice morose. “When Lord Governor Corbould finds out that we moved our men into the city and didn’t capture Icaraeus…he’ll have our hides. If we’re lucky.”
Hiram stared at Caina, blinking in surprise. “Anna Callenius? You, too, are a Ghost?”
Caina nodded.
“Gods of the Empire,” muttered Hiram. “Am I surrounded by spies?”
Despite her exhaustion and fear, Caina smiled. “It would seem so.” She used her disguised voice, and Hiram flinched in recognition.
Ducas snorted. “So you had an unmarried woman in your room, Hiram? Just like you not to do anything about it.”
“Enough,” said Halfdan, crossing the room to stand by Caina. He poured himself a cup of wine, swallowed, and sighed. “At least you’re alive, thank the gods. Arlann told me that you took off after Icaraeus. Well, we haven’t found Icaraeus, but at least we’ve found you. What happened?”
“I…” said Caina.
She found herself staring at Ark. His face was grim, as always, his gray eyes cold and watchful. How would he react, she wondered?
Lydia’s thought whispered inside her head. You love him.
She did. He was her brother, joined by bonds of pain and battle if not by blood. And now she had to tell him that his wife had been held captive in a sunless pit for five years, that his son would die tonight upon a slab of black stone.
“I…” repeated Caina.
“Gods,” said Halfdan. “You look terrible. What happened to you?”
“Ark,” said Caina. “I’m so sorry.”
He blinked and managed a small smile. “But for what? I am pleased you are alive. And it seems I owe you my life, yet again. Icaraeus would have had my head if you had not stopped him.”
“Your son’s name is Nicolai,” said Caina.
Ark did reply, did not move, but his face went still. Like the instant of calm before a thunderstorm.
“How do you know that?” said Ark. “I never told you his name.”
“Ark,” said Caina. “There’s no simple way to say this, so I shall simply say it. Tanya and Nicolai are alive. The reason their ship never arrived in any of the slave ports is that the ship never left Marsis. There are tunnels and vaults underneath Black Angel Tower. I followed Icaraeus there, after he fled. That’s where he’s been keeping his slaves all these years. Tanya and Nicolai are down there.”
“No,” said Ark. “No. That’s not possible.”
“She thought you were dead,” said Caina. “Jadriga told her that you died in the attack.”
Ark shook his head. “No. I looked everywhere for them. Everywhere. I’ve gone from one side of the Empire to the other.”
“I saw them, Ark,” said Caina. “They’re still alive.”
His voice began to shake. “And all this time, all this time, they’ve been here in Marsis?” His face remained calm, but the muscles in his jaw trembled like overstressed wire. “Right underneath my damned feet? All this time? All this time? Icaraeus has been hiding them here the entire time?”
His sword appeared in his hand, and he stormed towards the door. Halfdan barked a command, and Ducas and Hiram seized Ark’s arms. Ark bellowed at them, and almost broke free, but Ducas and Hiram together were too strong.
“Let me go,” snarled Ark, “let me go.”
“You idiot,” said Ducas. “She hasn’t told you where your wife and son are. What are you going to do, run around the streets waving your sword and screaming at the sky? That will surely succeed.”
Ark kept struggling.
“Ark!” said Caina. She hurried over, grabbed his shoulders. “Ark, listen to me.” He stopped struggling and stared at her. His eyes were full of anguish, and she had never seen such a bleak expression on his face. It frightened her. “You can’t get them back by yourself. I swear to you that I will help you find them, that we’ll get them back, or we’ll die trying.”
Ark nodded, his face compressing back into its usual cold mask. Ducas and Hiram let him go, and he rammed his sword back into its scabbard.
“Then tell me where they are,” Ark said. “Tell me now.”
“Yes,” said Halfdan. “I think you had better tell us everything.”
So Caina did. She told them how she had chased Icaraeus, how she followed him into the darkness below Black Angel Tower. She described the endless rows of collared slaves, staring blankly as they sat in their own filth. The domed chamber, and the shadow-choked pit in its heart.
Vorena plunging the knife into her son. Her voice caught a little on that one.
The butchered slaves, and the streams of blood. Tanya, Nicolai, and Peter, imprisoned in comfort, like fattened calves awaiting the butcher’s block. Jadriga’s cruelty and power, and what she planned to do.
She did not tell them about Lydia Palaegus.
They stared at her in silence after she had finished.
“That’s not possible,” said Ducas, his voice thick. “Sorcery on that scale. That can’t be possible. No brother of the Magisterium could accomplish such a feat.”
Caina shook her head. “Jadriga has power greater anything the magi could work.”
“Gods of the Empire,” said Hiram. “I’ve met that woman. I’ve spoken to her. I thought she was a fraud, a charlatan. And instead she’s this…this horror out of the ancient past. The Moroaica of the Szalds.” He shook his head. “Agria, damn her. I knew she murdered Martin and Lydia, I knew it. But I thought she used poison, or an assassin…but instead she butchered them with her own hands.”
One of Lydia’s memories flashed through Caina’s mind, hard black stone, Agria’s voice droning in a chant, the piercing agony of cold steel plunging into warm flesh…
“Jadriga must be stopped,” said Radast, scribbling into a notebook. “Sorcery of this magnitude…Anna is correct. Thousands will die, even if the spell is unsuccessful. And if hundreds of these fallen angels come out of the pit, the amount of harm they will do is…is…” His pen came to a ragged stop. “Is incalculable.”
“I don’t see how we can possibly kill Jadriga,” said Ducas. “A woman…a creature like that, she’s probably crushed more enemies than anyone here will ever see. How can we possibly kill something like her? We would be fools to even try.”
“But we must do something!” said Jiri. “At midnight, she’ll kill that boy and thousands of people will die.”
“It doesn’t matter,” said Ark. “She has my wife and my son. I will get them back. Even if I must go alone.”
“Don’t be absurd,” said Halfdan. “You won’t go alone.” He rubbed his chin. “So it seems that Jadriga was our real enemy all along. The Ghosts have been seeking Icaraeus for years, but Jadriga was always pulling the strings.” He shook his head. “No doubt he came to her for refuge, when he first fled Malarae. Now he’s her puppet, and I’ll bet he doesn’t even know it.”
“What fascinating speculation,” said Ducas, “but how does that help us kill her?”
“You’re right,” said Halfdan. “I doubt we’ll be able to kill her.”
Ducas scowled.
“But it occurs to me,” said Halfdan, “that we might not have to.”
“What do you mean?” said Ducas.
“She needs Ark’s son to cast this Opening of the Way,” said Halfdan. “So, if we can snatch him away, there will be no spell.”
“How are we going to do that?” said Caina. “Icaraeus and his surviving men are guarding the stairs. I don’t doubt that we can force our way past them, but as soon as we do, Jadriga will know. How will we survive that?�
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“We survive that,” said Halfdan, “by hurting Jadriga badly enough that she flees. Listen to me. The Ghost circlemasters have secrets, and Jadriga is not the only sorceress of great power that the Ghosts have ever faced. There’s maybe a few hundred like her in the world, ancient sorcerers that should have died a long, long time ago. In fact, I’ll wager that’s why she wants to free the fallen angels, so she can use their power to gain an advantage over an enemy that equals her strength. But underneath all her spells and arcane power, she’s still a living woman, and vulnerable to all the ills of and injuries of the flesh.”
“Such as?” said Ducas.
“Poison, for instance,” said Halfdan. He crossed to the wall and opened a crate. Inside lay a massive iron Strigosti trapbox. Halfdan produced a pair of keys, released the locks, and flipped open the lid. Carefully he reached inside and drew out a pair of clays vials.
“What are those?” said Caina.
“Poison,” said Halfdan. “The ingredients are expensive and incredibly rare, and the formula is known only to the Ghost circlemasters. Suffice it to say that if you coat a weapon with the poison, a single scratch will kill a healthy man within a few heartbeats. A sorceress as old and powerful as Jadriga will be well-protected from injury, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she can recover from even serious wounds in a matter of moments. But if we can get this poison into her blood, it will do her harm. Enough that we can snatch Nicolai and get away. Maybe even enough that we can kill her. But if we can force her to flee, that will be enough.”
The Ghosts Omnibus One Page 88
