Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 06 - Ghost in the Forge

by Jonathan Moeller

  “The Magisterium,” he said at last, “should teach their battle magi to wear helms.”

  Torius, being dead, did not respond.

  ###

  The blast of shadow slammed into Kylon’s chest and threw him back a dozen steps. He landed hard atop the corpse of a slain mercenary, an icy chill washing through him. But this was not the chill of frost and snow. Cold tendrils of necromancy sank into him, sucking away his life and warmth. Veins of shadow crawled over his chest and arms, like black roots sinking into his skin.

  “And so ends the mighty exploits of the great Kylon Shipbreaker,” said Sicarion. “Pity, really.”

  He walked closer.

  Kylon shuddered. The spell was sucking away his physical strength…but it had not touched his sorcery.

  Unfortunately, he did not have the strength to stand.

  “You have a good sword arm,” said Sicarion. His scarred lips twitched into a grin, his yellow teeth gleaming. “I think I’ll take it for my own.”

  Kylon saw a set of throwing knives resting in the dead mercenary’s belt. He remember how the Ghost had used throwing knives in battle with remarkable effectiveness.

  Kylon didn’t think he could stand…but he thought he could throw a knife.

  Sicarion raised his sword.

  Kylon snatched a throwing knife and drew on the sorcery of water. White mist swirled around the blade, and he flung the weapon with all the force he could muster. His aim was off, but the power of water drove his arm, and the blade sank to the hilt in Sicarion’s stomach.

  The scarred assassin stumbled back with a strangled scream, his eyes going wide. No blood came from the wound, and a rime of frost spread over his leather armor. Sicarion ripped the weapon free from his belly with a curse, and cursed again as the fingers of his left hand turned black with frost.

  And the icy chill settling into Kylon vanished, the black veins of shadow disappearing.

  He surged back to his feet, the sorcery of water filling his limbs with renewed strength. Sicarion twisted aside at the last moment, and Kylon’s mist-wreathed blade slashed through his leather armor and tore a gash down his torso, ice spreading over the wound.

  Sicarion flung out his good hand, and a bar of shadow stabbed from his fingers. Kylon raised his sword to block it, and he felt Sicarion’s cold power strain against the sorcery of water. He stumbled, hands wrapped around his sword hilt as he struggled to hold Sicarion’s spell as bay.

  Sicarion whirled and fled, vanishing into the chaos as the mercenaries battled the Imperial Guards.

  ###

  Caina blocked another punch, and then another, trying to line up for a blow at Mihaela’s helmet.

  She realized that she was overmatched.

  Caina knew far more about hand-to-hand combat than Mihaela. But Mihaela had created the glypharmor and knew it inside and out.

  And that meant she knew the armor’s weaknesses.

  The glypharmor had protected Caina so far, but she tasted blood in her mouth and her body ached from the battering. Mihaela’s blows had left a dozen dents in the crimson steel, and Caina heard an ominous squealing noise every time she moved her arms. She had managed to land a dozen solid blows on Mihaela, but the black glypharmor had not slowed at all.

  “It hurts,” whispered Ardasha, “it hurts so much.”

  “We’re not finished yet,” said Caina, but her words sounded hollow.

  Mihaela lunged at her, and Caina dodged away. One of the hieroglyphs on her legs sputtered, and for a moment she stumbled. Caina brought her arms up block the coming attack, but instead Mihaela stepped back, the black glypharmor’s stance radiating wariness.

  Caina didn’t understand. If Mihaela had struck, she could have ended the fight then and there. Why hadn’t she pressed her advantage?

  Mihaela took a step to the left, and Caina understood.

  She was keeping herself between Caina and the Forge. She knew Caina would try to destroy the Forge. If Mihaela blocked the way, she would need only wear down Caina bit by bit.

  But the Forge was perched right at the molten pool’s edge. The thing was enormous, but if Caina hit it hard enough, perhaps she could knock it into the metal.

  “Yes,” murmured Ardasha, her voice trembling. “Yes, end it. Let me die. Please let me die at last.”

  Caina feinted, throwing a palm strike at Mihaela’s face, followed by a sweeping kick for her legs. Mihaela jumped back, but the movement forced her to the left.

  And it gave Caina the opening she needed.

  She sprinted forward. Mihaela’s metal fingers raked at her shoulder plates, but Caina tore free, driven by Ardasha’s weakening fury and red glypharmor’s colossal mass. She barreled out of the Hall of Assembly and towards the Forge’s gleaming steel coffin.

  “No!” shouted Mihaela, and Caina heard the thunder of her pursuit.

  But she was too slow. Caina leaped, the power of her steel legs throwing her through the air like a catapult stone, and slammed into the Forge with all of Ardasha’s strength and the red glypharmor’s weight behind her.

  The Forge clanged like a tremendous gong, its hieroglyphs pulsing with white fire. Fingers of blue-white lightning erupted from the hieroglyphs, pouring into the red glypharmor. Ardasha screamed in pain, and Caina heard herself screaming with her.

  But the Forge began slide backwards into the molten pool. Caina strained against it, pushing with the red glypharmor’s arms. Just a little further…

  “No!” shouted Mihaela, her footsteps growing closer.

  And all at once Caina knew how she could destroy the Forge and defeat Mihaela.

  It would only cost her life.

  Well. She had died once already today. What was one more time?

  Caina whirled, her back against the tottering Forge as Mihaela sprang for her, hands reaching for her helmet.

  She reached out, seized Mihaela’s shoulders, and pulled the black glypharmor towards her even as Mihaela’s steel fingers wrapped around her helmet. Mihaela’s own momentum drove her forward, slamming Caina against the Forge.

  The Forge toppled backwards into the molten pool, Caina on top of the closed steel coffin, Mihaela pinning her in place.

  “Damn you!” shrieked Mihaela, her steel hands closing around Caina’s helmet. “Damn you, damn you, damn you!”

  The Forge’s hieroglyphs sputtered and flared, shooting sparks into the molten steel. Even through the red glypharmor, Caina felt the heat radiating from the liquid metal. Mihaela snarled and tried to pull away, but Caina gripped her shoulders, pinning her in place. This horror ended now. The Forge would burn, Mihaela would burn, and Caina would burn with them, but it was worth it if she could stop Mihaela …

  “No!”

  Ardasha’s voice rang in Caina’s head like a trumpet.

  “No! I am dead. I am already dead!” said Ardasha. “But you still live. Go, Balargiar! Look after Shaizid, I beg you.” The dead woman’s voice grew hard. “I will break Mihaela’s precious Forge!”

  The red glypharmor’s cuirass swung open, the helmet sliding back. The heat exploded over Caina in a torrent, and her awareness of the red glypharmor and Ardasha’s presence drained away. Above her she saw the black glypharmor swinging open, saw Mihaela’s furious face as she clawed her way free.

  “Go!” said Ardasha, her voice fading from the inside of Caina’s head.

  Caina scrambled to her feet and raced across the rocking steel coffin, the heat searing her face and filling her lungs with pain. Mihaela stumbled after her, snarling and spitting in fury. Caina reached the edge of the Forge and jumped, the molten metal rippling beneath her. For a terrible moment she thought she would plunge into the liquid steel.

  But she struck the edge of the pool and rolled across the cracked stone floor, coughing and wheezing from the heat.

  Mihaela landed next to her. Caina got to one knee, reaching for her remaining throwing knives, but Mihaela was faster. The rod of a Sage glimmered in her hand, and invisible force slammed into
Caina and pinned her against the floor.

  “You ruined everything!” howled Mihaela, sweat pouring down her face. “I’m going to make…”

  With a hideous metallic scream, the Forge cracked into a dozen fragments. Both the red glypharmor and the black glypharmor melted and warped, twisting into an unrecognizable shapes before they sank into the white-hot steel. Snarling lighting crackled around the shards of the Forge…

  Mihaela shuddered, and she started to scream.

  A pulse of white light exploded from the Forge’s wreckage and ripped through the chamber. The white light shot through Caina, and she felt the tingling pain of powerful sorcery. The light passed through the remaining suits of glypharmor, their hieroglyphs pulsing, and the suits collapsed into piles of broken steel.

  Mihaela shrieked as blood poured from her nose and mouth and ears. Jadriga had said that Mihaela had created a psychic link with the Forge.

  And if the Forge shattered…would Mihaela’s mind shatter too?

  Mihaela groaned once, fell upon her back, and did not move again.

  Caina tried to stand, and managed it on the fourth try. The battle was almost over. The mercenaries had been slain or driven off, and the Imperial Guard held the Hall of Assembly. Caina gazed down at Mihaela. The Seeker’s eyes were glassy, and a thin stream of drool leaked from her open mouth to mingle with the blood.

  Evidently linking her mind to the Forge had not been a good idea.

  “Caina.”

  She turned.

  Corvalis stood a few yards away, exhausted and bloody. He carried an unconscious Claudia slung over his shoulders, her blond hair trailing down his chest.

  “Corvalis,” said Caina. She should have been angry, she knew, but she felt only relief, overpowering relief, that he was still alive.

  “Gods,” Corvalis said. “I’m sorry. I should have listened to you. I should have made Claudia listen to you. I,” he blinked several times, a muscle near his eye twitching, “I thought you were dead.”

  “Not yet,” said Caina, and despite everything, she felt herself smile. “Not yet.”

  Chapter 27 - Choices

  The next morning Caina woke up and felt terrible.

  She hobbled to the bathtub, her joints aching, her head pounding. Her skin had turned red from the heat of the molten metal, as if from a bad sunburn, and every step hurt. In a week or so she would start peeling like a coat of cheap paint.

  Still, it was better than being burned alive.

  And better than what Mihaela had done to herself.

  The hot water felt glorious against her aching body. For all their folly, at least the Masked Ones knew how to keep their guests in comfort. After, Caina dried off, put on a robe, and limped into the sitting room.

  Claudia awaited her there, a tray of food upon the table.

  “Caina,” Claudia said, voice quiet. “How do you feel?”

  Caina frowned. “How do you know my real name?”

  Claudia’s face grew red. “I’m sorry. I just…I heard Master Basil say it, after I woke up. I’m…I’m sorry if I overstepped.”

  “No,” said Caina. “It’s good to pay attention to details. Helps you to avoid mistakes later on.”

  Claudia could not meet her eyes. “Like trusting a sorceress who wants to kill you and bind your soul into necromantic armor?”

  “Something like that,” said Caina, “yes.”

  “I had the slaves bring breakfast,” said Claudia, “and coffee.”

  Caina could smell it. “Thank you. Why don’t you sit down?”

  She sat, and after a moment’s hesitation, Claudia sat as well. Caina helped herself to a cup of coffee, and recognized the smell of Shaizid’s work. She gazed into the cup, lost in thought. Shaizid had wept like a child when he had learned of Ardasha’s fate. Still, she had seen the fierce pride in his face. Ardasha had helped defeat Mihaela and shatter the Forge.

  And Mihaela would never hurt anyone ever again.

  “You don’t like the coffee?” said Claudia.

  Caina blinked, realized that she had forgotten Claudia was there.

  “I was thinking,” said Caina. “The coffee is wonderful.” She took a sip. “A pity they don’t have it in Malarae.”

  Claudia nodded, licked her lips. And as angry as Caina had been with her, she felt a moment’s pity. The former magus looked miserable.

  “You should probably get it over with,” said Caina. “Waiting won’t make you feel better.”

  “I’m sorry!” said Claudia. “I am so sorry. You were right. You didn’t even know what Mihaela planned, and you were still right.” She blinked, tears in her eyes. “I didn’t listen to you, and I got a lot of people killed.”

  “Most of those people would have died anyway,” said Caina. “Mihaela would have acted with or without your help.”

  “I know,” said Claudia, “but she had my help. You were right about me.” She wiped a hand across her eyes. “I wanted to use my powers to help people. That’s all I wanted to do, the only reason I aided Mihaela. Instead I helped her create a horror…and if you hadn’t stopped her, it would have been so much worse. Corvalis would have been killed, Mihaela would have turned me into a suit of glypharmor…and I would have to live with my guilt for all eternity.”

  “But that didn’t happen,” said Caina.

  “Because of you,” said Claudia. “My folly would have destroyed us. The nations would have burned, and millions would have died, and all because of me…”

  “Please shut up,” said Caina.

  Claudia blinked.

  “And stop crying,” said Caina. “You don’t have the complexion for it.”

  Claudia managed a sniffling laugh. “I don’t, do I?”

  “And I understand,” said Caina, “why you did it.”

  “Because I am a fool,” said Claudia.

  “We are all fools,” said Caina. “Did Corvalis ever tell you why I hate sorcery so much?”

  Claudia hesitated. “Not…in full. He said the magi murdered your father…”

  “My mother,” said Caina, “was an initiate of the Magisterium, but the high magi expelled her because she wasn’t strong enough. So instead she turned to a renegade necromancer. In exchange for his teachings, she sold me to him. When my father found out, she wiped his mind, much like happened to Mihaela. The necromancer took my blood and in the process left me barren.”

  “Oh,” said Claudia in a small voice. “I see why you hate sorcery.”

  Caina nodded. “And if I could kill them all, I would.” She took a deep breath. “If Mihaela had come to me and said she had some weapon, some device that allowed her to kill every single magus in the Empire at once…I would have used it. I would have used it without hesitation. At least you were trying to save lives by forcing peace between the Empire and Istarinmul and New Kyre.” Caina shrugged. “So I understand the temptation. But I hate sorcery, so Mihaela’s offer was not an enticing one. But for you…you wanted to use your spells to help people, to make their lives better. I can see how resisting Mihaela’s offer would have been difficult.”

  “I believed her,” said Claudia. “I thought she wanted to use her sorcery to aid mankind, not to rule over it.” She frowned. “But that was what you meant, wasn’t it? I wanted to help people, not to rule them. But by enslaving the sorcerers and forcing them to rule as I wish, I would have been using my power to rule over people.”

  Caina nodded.

  “Gods,” said Claudia. “That is a hard thing to learn about oneself. That I could be a monster. That I almost made myself into a monster.”

  “You were right about one thing,” said Caina. “You do a have a responsibility to use your power well. Just…not in the way you thought.”

  “Do you think Basil will have me killed?” said Claudia. “He was…most angry.”

  “No,” said Caina. “I won’t kill you, either. Crippling the Magisterium has always been one of the goals of the Ghosts. You just went about it…a little too enthusiastically
. But I doubt Basil will use you in the field again. He’ll probably set you up with a false identity and consult you when the Ghosts need your knowledge of sorcery.”

  Claudia shuddered. “Good. I had hoped to prove myself on this trip, but…I suppose I did, didn’t I? Just not in the way I wanted. I still wish to be of use to the Ghosts. But, gods, if I can settle in Malarae and never leave again, I think I shall die content. I have seen quite enough of Catekharon.”

  “As have I,” said Caina.

  “Thank you,” said Claudia. “For…forgiving me. I am not sure I would have the strength to do so in your place.”

  Caina shrugged. “You’re Corvalis’s sister. He loves you.”

  “And you,” said Claudia, “love him.”

  “Yes,” said Caina. She could not give him children, but she suspected that did not matter to a man like Corvalis.

  “Even though he sided with me against you?” said Claudia.

  “He did what he thought was right,” said Caina. “I don’t think I could respect a man too craven to stand up to me. He loves you, too. You have…something of a prior claim.”

  Claudia nodded. “Thank you again.”

  “You can repay me,” said Caina, finishing the coffee and getting to her feet, “by helping me get dressed. The ambassadors will be gathering soon, and I’m curious what Zalandris has to say to them.”

  “Of course,” said Claudia. “Though I fear I shall never get the knack of the hairpins you use.”

  “There’s no time like the present.”

  ###

  Kylon of House Kardamnos stood in the Hall of Assembly, Alcios at this right hand, Cimon at his left, a ring of ashtairoi around him. The other ambassadors stood surrounded by their guards, and Kylon could not blame them, given what had happened in the Hall.

  Though their anger was not aimed at each other but at the Speaker of the Scholae.

  “The Scholae is grieved that harm has come to guests under our protection,” said Zalandris. “Therefore for every man who was slain, we shall pay a dual indemnity, one to his family, and another to his monarch.”