Ghost in the Hunt

by Moeller, Jonathan

  The Huntress raised her bow, and Caina snatched a knife from her belt and flung it with her left hand. The arrow shot from the bow an instant before Caina’s spinning blade slashed through the string. Nasser staggered as the arrow sank into his chest, and he fell backward without a sound, the valikon bouncing from his hand.

  Kalgri threw aside the ruined bow and stalked forward.

  Caina looked at her, at the valikon, and back at her.

  “Go ahead, take it,” spat Kalgri, her eyes burning with purple fire, shadows swirling around her left hand. “It won’t do you any good. I’ve shot him before, you know. This time if I cut off his head, he won’t be able to come back.”

  The immaterial sword of the nagataaru appeared in her left hand. Caina blinked in astonishment, wondering why Kalgri would use the weapon against her.

  Of course. Kalgri thought Claudia still had Annarah’s pyrikon. She didn’t know it had returned to Caina.

  Caina stepped closer to Nasser, trying to see if he was still breathing. It was too dark to tell. Kalgri broke into a run, raising the sword of shadow and flame.

  Caina ducked, reaching for the valikon, and Kalgri snarled with triumph. The immaterial weapon touched Caina and shattered, the pyrikon again growing hot against her arm. Kalgri let out a shriek of mingled surprise and fury and stumbled. Caina seized the valikon’s hilt, the symbols bursting back into white flame as the weapon trembled beneath her fingers, and stabbed for Kalgri’s chest.

  The Huntress reeled to the side, the movement almost drunken, and the valikon ripped across the right side of her ribs. Kalgri threw back her head and screamed, the Voice joining her cry, and drew the scimitar and dagger from her belt.

  She charged at Caina, weapons flying, and Caina retreated, desperately trying to keep the Huntress from gutting her.

  And her astonishment, she found that she could.

  Kalgri was still fast and strong, but her movements had lost their inhuman speed and power. Evidently the Voice had suffered enough damage that it could no longer transform Kalgri into an invincible killing machine.

  Enough damage that perhaps Caina could strike a killing blow?

  Yet she could get nowhere near Kalgri. The Huntress’s scimitar and dagger wove a fortress of blurring steel around her, and her attacks drove Caina back. She found herself in full retreat, backing over the rubble pile and into the terrace outside the temple.

  And still Kalgri’s fury did not slow.

  ###

  Claudia’s mind swam back into focus.

  Gods, but her head hurt.

  She sat up, her mind going to the training she had received from Komnene in Calvarium. She was conscious, that was good. If she had cracked her skull, likely she would never have awakened. Dust was still in the air from the collapsing wall, so she could not have been out long.

  The baby. Could she had fallen hard enough to lose the baby? Probably not – she had landed on her back and had not broken any bones. But the very thought filled her with sick terror.

  Martin. Where was Martin? The terror redoubled, and Claudia staggered to her feet, looking for him.

  Instead she saw the Red Huntress and the Balarigar dueling across the terrace.

  The Huntress’s ragged cloak swirled around her like a veil of blood, a scimitar in her right hand and a dagger in her left. Caina’s shadow-cloak billowed around her as she wielded the valikon in both hands, the symbols upon its blade shining bright.

  Caina was losing.

  Claudia knew nothing about hand-to-hand combat, but even she could see that Caina was overmatched. Kalgri lacked her usual inhuman speed, but she was still stronger and more skilled, and Caina had no choice but to fall back. Only Kalgri’s obvious fear of the valikon kept her from closing, but sooner or later Caina would make a mistake and Kalgri would kill her.

  Or the Huntress would just drive Caina over the edge of the terrace.

  Claudia cursed and half-ran, half-wobbled after the combatants.

  ###

  Even with Kalgri’s wounds, Caina could not keep up.

  She simply was not good enough with a sword. All her early training had been with knives and daggers, and her reflexes and instincts were for short blades. Corvalis had tried to teach her more, but she had never taken to it. Caina preferred to strike from the shadows, not to face her foes in a sword fight.

  Kalgri had decades of experience with swords, experience that showed. Only Kalgri’s avoidance of the valikon and the empty space of the terrace had allowed Caina to stay alive.

  And now she was out of space.

  Her boot bumped against the low wall at the edge of the terrace, a thousand feet of empty air yawning below her. Kalgri slashed, and Caina managed to parry, the scimitar ringing against the valikon’s blade. She tried to retreat, but with the cliff on her right, there was no more room to maneuver, and Caina had to duck beneath Kalgri’s next stab.

  As she straightened up, Kalgri’s boot slammed into her stomach. The breath exploded out of her, and Caina collapsed against the wall as her legs went limp. For an awful instant she tottered on the edge, terrified that she would fall to her death, but managed to push herself away. She landed with a painful thump, the valikon tumbling from her grasp.

  Kalgri sneered and kicked the sword away.

  Caina scrambled backward, and Kalgri raised her scimitar to end the fight.

  ###

  Claudia saw Caina fall, the valikon spinning across the terrace, the Huntress lifting her blade for the kill.

  If Claudia didn’t act, Kalgri would kill Caina, and then kill the rest of them.

  She summoned power, blue light flaring around her fingers, and cast the banishment spell. Sparks volleyed from her hands and slammed into the Huntress, and Kalgri stumbled with a cry of pain and fear. For an instant Claudia hoped the pain would drive Kalgri over the edge of the terrace, but the Huntress caught her balance, her left hand blurring.

  She threw her dagger at Claudia.

  Claudia dodged, but the blade sank into her left thigh. She screamed and fell, agony throbbing through her, her spell collapsing.

  Caina tried to rise and fell again.

  The Huntress turned back to her, scimitar in both hands.

  ###

  Caina watched her death approach.

  She tried to rise, tried to reach for the valikon or the ghostsilver dagger at her belt, but the Huntress’s last kick had stolen her breath and turned her legs to water. She had not fully recovered from Drynemet, and Caina had reached the end of her endurance.

  She wanted to scream with frustration. They had come so close!

  Kalgri looked every bit as battered as Caina felt.

  “You know,” said the Huntress, “I am going…”

  A loud click and a twanging noise drowned out the rest of the sentence.

  Kalgri turned her head in surprise.

  Caina looked at the outer wall. She saw a man in dark armor and a second in chain mail standing over one of the ballistae. Martin and Laertes, both of them bent over the war engine. The ballista trembled, the cord snapping back.

  Kalgri started to dodge, and an instant later the ballista bolt slammed into her.

  The result was messy.

  The bolt plunged into Kalgri’s stomach and erupted from her back, her flesh and muscle and bone barely slowing the razor-tipped shaft. The force of the impact threw Kalgri backwards along with the bolt, and she tumbled over the low wall, screaming incoherently.

  Caina grabbed the wall and pulled herself up, watching Kalgri hurtle towards the valley below, the ballista bolt still jutting from her belly. As she spun the shaft slammed against the cliff face, acting as a lever to drive the razor-edged head deeper into her guts.

  The impact tore her in half. Her legs went one way, and most of the rest of her body went another way in a crimson mist of blood.

  Even if the Voice had been unharmed, Caina doubted the nagataaru could have healed that.

  She watched as the various pieces that ha
d been the Red Huntress vanished into the darkness, and then heaved herself to her feet with a groan. Claudia sat upon the ground nearby, and Caina saw Martin and Laertes running from the temple. She wondered what Laertes would do now that Nasser was dead. Retire, likely. With his share of the earnings from the theft upon Callatas’s Maze, Laertes would have enough…

  Then Strabane emerged from the rubble, helped along by Nasser, who looked none the worse for wear.

  Caina blinked in surprise. She remembered the potent sorcerous aura Nasser’s left hand, and the strange blue light that had shone from that hand when the glove had been torn in Drynemet.

  She would question him about it later.

  “Your leg,” said Caina. Claudia pulled up her skirt, scowling at the long but shallow gash along her thigh. It didn’t look too serious. “Is…”

  “Missed the blood vessels,” said Claudia. She let out a shaky little laugh. “I think…I think the Huntress was distracted. Is…is she truly dead?”

  “Hunt’s over,” said Caina.

  Chapter 21 - Wider Circles

  Two weeks after the Huntress’s death, Claudia wore a rich gown and sat at a table in the Court of the Fountain in the Padishah’s Golden Palace, eating from a plate of rice and peppers and skewered lamb. Or she pretended to, pushing the food around the plate with her fork. At least she had a good excuse for finding Istarish food repulsive. Pregnancy frequently disrupted a woman’s stomach.

  Of course, maybe the Istarish food really was that repulsive.

  She ignored the food and listened to the discussion between her husband, the Grand Wazir, and Cassander Nilas.

  “So you truly slew her?” said Erghulan.

  He stood near the table, a glass of wine in his hand, Martin at his right and Cassander on his left. At the base of the wall the dancers whirled and spun through their elaborate routines. Claudia remembered wearing one of those costumes and shuddered. Then she laughed at herself. After everything she had endured in Istarinmul and the Kaltari Highlands, it was odd that the memory should still embarrass her.

  “Aye, my lord Wazir,” said Martin. “The monks of Silent Ash Temple witnessed the battle, and would be happy to testify if you doubt my sincerity.”

  Erghulan waved a hand. “You are a man of honor, my lord, and I do not doubt your word.” He gave a dismayed shake of his head. “Still, assassins daring to profane a sacred monastery? Truly, we live in dark times.”

  “A grievous affront, my lord,” said Cassander, his smile never wavering. “Yet one easily explained. I doubt Lord Martin’s claim…”

  “You are calling me a liar?” said Martin. “A curious claim from a man who brought assassins into the Padishah’s capital.”

  “Not at all,” said Cassander without missing a beat. “I suspect Lord Martin simply slew an impostor, a woman dressing up as the legendary Red Huntress to…”

  “I suspect that as well,” said Erghulan, “but it is entirely irrelevant. You saw the woman’s prowess yourself, Cassander. One woman slaying fifteen Immortals singlehandedly? I would not have believed such a tale had I not seen it with my own eyes. Yes, the assassin was a sorceress who masqueraded as the Red Huntress, but she was nonetheless a deadly and capable foe. You are to be commended, my lord Martin, for ridding the Padishah’s realm of such a dangerous creature.”

  For just an instant Cassander’s glassy smile flickered into a scowl.

  Martin bowed. “The pleasure was entirely mine, Grand Wazir.” He smiled. “Given how she was trying to kill me, after all.”

  “Ha!” said Erghulan. “Bold! I like that. Though it does make me wonder,” his eyes turned to Cassander, “who would send assassins after Lord Martin.”

  Cassander shrugged. “Doubtless Lord Martin has many enemies within the Empire.”

  “Doubtless,” said Martin, his voice bland. “And among the rebels of the Umbarian Order, I would imagine.”

  “I object, my lord Wazir,” said Cassander, “to these unjustified aspersions upon the honor of the Umbarian Order…”

  “Unjustified?” snorted Erghulan. “I have seen the bodies of your Silent Hunters. I saw how your Adamant Guards suspiciously failed to fight against this so-called Huntress when she tried to assassinate Lord Martin. Dozens of witnesses saw your Adamant Guards running through the Golden Palace.”

  “They merely wished to defend the Padishah,” said Cassander, “if the assassin decided to turn her malevolent attentions towards the most divine ruler.”

  “Yes, I am sure you were deeply concerned with the Padishah’s welfare,” said Erghulan. “I shall be plain, my lord Cassander. You were sloppy. I have no doubt you intended some plot…but Silent Hunters running amok in Istarinmul? A sorcerous assassin attacking the Golden Palace? I have no proof you are behind anything, but I am not a blind man.”

  “Is that an accusation, my lord?” said Cassander, his deep voice taking a hard edge.

  “Not at all,” said Erghulan. “I make no accusations and I offer no threats. I do, however, promise you that that the Empire and the Order will keep their quarrel outside of both Istarinmul and the entirety of the Padishah’s domain. The Padishah will tolerate no violence between the Empire and the Order, or their agents and emissaries, within his borders. I trust I have made the Padishah’s will clear?”

  Or, Claudia thought, the will of Grand Master Callatas.

  “Perfectly clear, my lord,” said Martin with a bow. “The Emperor shall be most delighted to leave his brother monarch the Padishah in peace, so long as the Padishah is willing to return that courtesy to the Emperor.”

  “The Umbarian Order,” said Cassander, his bright blue eyes like disks of ice, “merely wishes to restore order and good governance to the Empire under the wise hands of the Provosts. We have no desire to interfere in the internal business of Istarinmul.”

  “Splendid,” said Erghulan, a thin smile on his lips. “Istarinmul will remain neutral in the war between the Emperor and the Order. No warships shall be allowed to pass through the Starfall Straits, and no foreign armies shall be permitted to cross Istarish soil. Trade vessels shall be permitted, as shall caravans, but no armies or fleets.”

  Claudia fought the urge to smile. They had been successful. Despite everything, they had been successful. The Istarish would not aid the Umbarians against the Empire.

  “The Padishah is both gracious and wise,” said Martin.

  “Indeed he is,” said Cassander, his rage plain behind the smiling mask of his face. “The Umbarian Order shall remember his wisdom and act accordingly.”

  Erghulan smiled, clearly enjoying the discomfiture of his inferiors. “As will the Padishah, my lord Cassander.”

  Later Claudia walked with Caina through the Court of the Fountain. They were hardly alone, with the dancers whirling below the walls and the various guests and soldiers filling the courtyard. Yet they were out of earshot of anyone else, and the noise from the musicians masked their words.

  “We did it,” said Claudia. “Istarinmul will stay neutral.”

  “For now,” said Caina. She wore again the white robes and turban of Kyrazid Tomurzu, factor to the lords of Imperial Cyrica, her face disguised with the fake beard. She moved a bit stiffly, still recovering from the battle at Silent Ash Temple. “Cassander will not give up. You will have to be on your guard against him.”

  “And you, too,” said Claudia. “He knows you are in Istarinmul. If he can find you and kill you, or take you alive, that might give him enough favor with Callatas to bring Istarinmul into the war.”

  “I know,” said Caina. “I suppose we will both have to be careful.”

  They walked in silence for a moment.

  “How is the leg?” said Caina at last.

  “Sore,” said Claudia. “Itching. Which is a good sign. It’s healing. And I’m…frightened. And hopeful, too. I…wish I could bring the child into a more peaceful world. But since I cannot, I am hopeful anyway.”

  “You remind me of Mahdriva,” said Caina.

/>   “Oh? Who is that?” said Claudia. “Someone good, I hope.”

  “She is,” said Caina. “She was an Istarish woman who fled to Malarae to get away from an Alchemist who wanted to murder her unborn child. She had lost her husband and her sisters, but hadn’t given up hope.” Her voice grew quieter. “Perhaps there is a lesson in that.”

  “Oh!” said Claudia. “I know her. Muravin’s daughter?” Caina nodded. “She married again. One of Arcion’s foundry workers. She was pregnant again when we left Malarae.”

  Caina smiled. “That is good news.”

  “I’ve been thinking about names,” said Claudia. “If the child is a boy…I think I will persuade Martin to name him Corvalis.”

  Caina stopped, blinked several times, looked away.

  “A good name,” she said at last.

  “If the child is a girl, we’ll name her after you,” said Claudia.

  “What?” said Caina. “Absolutely not. Absolutely not! Cassander is looking for me. Don’t you think it will be a little suspicious if you suddenly have a child with my name? I…oh.” She stopped as Claudia laughed. “You’re joking.”

  “Yes,” said Claudia. “But only a little. If I could, though…I would.”

  Caina nodded again. “Thank you.” She looked at where Martin and Erghulan stood talking. “I should disappear for a while, especially if Cassander starts looking for me. I don’t want to be near you or Martin if he decides to come for me. I will set up a system of messengers, so you can summon me if necessary, and I can inform you of anything you need to know.”

  “We should stay in touch regularly,” said Claudia, “if we are to keep Istarinmul neutral…and if we are to stop Callatas’s Apotheosis.”

  “You see the importance of that now?” said Caina.

  Claudia nodded. “I didn’t, not at first. But, gods, all those wraithblood addicts. And seeing what the Huntress could do, how she reveled in slaughter…if that was what the nagataaru are like, then they have to be stopped.”