Ghost in the Pact

by Jonathan Moeller

  Much like the nagataaru.

  Caina staggered to her feet, the ghostsilver dagger burning white in her hand, the currents of power rippling around her. The Staff of Iramis, she had learned, had the power to call spirits from the netherworld. Apparently that included the ability to open gates from the mortal world. Callatas’s power had activated the Staff, which had likely brought them both here.

  She spun, and saw Callatas standing thirty yards away.

  In the mortal world, the vision of the valikarion had seen the power of the wards wrapped around Callatas, the spells woven into his robes, and the mighty strength of the Staff and the Seal and the Star of Iramis. Here, with the vision so much sharper, the force of his spells shone like rivers of molten metal.

  More, she saw the shadow within him.

  It was huge, colossal, larger than the mountains rising over the Imperial Citadel in Malarae, burning like the volcanoes in the Saddaic provinces. Caina had seen that shadow before, first when she had entered the netherworld while escaping Callatas’s Maze and again when rescuing Annarah from the nagataaru.

  It was the terrible shadow of Kotuluk Iblis, the lord of the nagataaru. The Voice might have inhabited Kalgri and the Harbinger resided in the undead flesh of Kharnaces, but Kotuluk Iblis himself possessed the mind of Grand Master Callatas.

  “The Balarigar,” spat Callatas.

  Caina took a step closer, and Callatas lifted his hand, tremendous amounts of sorcerous power swirling around him. She had caught him off-guard on the beach as he struggled against Kharnaces’s compulsion, but now she had his full attention.

  The netherworld flickered around her, shifting from a plain to the courtyard of Ulvan’s palace, where Caina had first seen Callatas after coming to Istarinmul. Usually it took longer for the netherworld to react to her thoughts, but she saw the currents of power lashing around her, reacting to her presence. Perhaps they reacted more violently since she had become a valikarion.

  “How has someone like you caused me so much trouble?” said Callatas. “One woman without sorcery, and you have caused me more difficulty than anyone else in the last century and a half.” He gave a disdainful sneer. “How did Ricimer and Anburj and Kalgri and Rolukhan and Cassander all fail to stop you?”

  “Listen to me,” said Caina. “You’re not in control of yourself. Kharnaces put a compulsion upon your mind…”

  “Ah, that was it,” snarled Callatas, pointing at her. “Those fools let you talk. I shall not make the same mistake.”

  He gestured, and the gray light exploded from his hand into a wall of invisible force forty feet across and forty high, moving so quickly and so powerfully that the psychokinetic blast would likely reduce her body to bloody mist. Caina had avoided spells like that a dozen times, but she saw no way to avoid this wall of force.

  But as she thought of them, the netherworld flickered and blurred, matching her memories of those battles in Malarae and Rasadda and Marsis and a dozen other places. The netherworld changed a dozen times in a single heartbeat, and Caina had never seen it change so quickly.

  The netherworld had always been psychomorphic.

  But perhaps now that Caina was a valikarion, she could see it happening.

  And since she could see it happening, could she control it?

  The wall of Callatas’s spell hurtled towards her, and Caina concentrated as hard as she could, thinking of shields and towers and fortresses…

  And the netherworld reshaped itself to her will.

  A wall of dark iron erupted from the ground before her, a thousand feet tall and a thousand wide, and Callatas’s spell slammed into it. The wall rang like a titanic bell, and the vast expanse of iron unraveled into mist and vanished. Callatas gaped at her, his eyes wide with astonishment, but his astonishment did not last long, and he started casting another spell. Golden fire blazed around his hand, power doubling and redoubling. It was a spell of transmutation, one she had seen him use before. It would transform her into a crystalline statue, killing her in the process, and the amount of power he had called would be sufficient to turn her and the ground for ten yards in all directions to glittering crystal.

  Caina saw the currents of sorcerous force gathering around his fingers, but she also saw the flows of power rippling through the netherworld. They were reacting to Callatas’s presence, but they were also reacting far more violently to Caina’s presence, and with a shock she realized they were reacting to her because she could see them. She had called that wall of iron into existence.

  Golden fire burst from Callatas’s hand, lancing towards her.

  Just how fast could Caina reshape the netherworld?

  She supposed it depended on what she could imagine, and she could imagine a lot.

  The fire blazed towards her, and Caina concentrated. The ground heaved beneath her feet, and a tall hill rose up beneath Caina, the earth bunching up like a wadded blanket. The transmutation spell struck the hill, and the entire thing transformed into crystal. But the crystal was slippery, and Caina threw herself forward. She hurtled down the slope of the hill as if it was a greased chute, the ghostsilver dagger a white torch in her hand, and hit the ground running. Callatas was casting another spell, but his eyes widened as she hurtled towards him, and he changed his spell. The flow of power burst from his hand and into the ground, and a chasm yawned at Caina’s feet, the gray, colorless plain splitting in two. Caina caught her balance and came to a stop as the chasm froze in place, thirty yards across, Callatas on the other side.

  The Grand Master began casting another spell, grayish-white light burning around his hands, the Staff of Iramis glowing in his hands. He was reactivating the Staff, preparing to use its power to open the way back to the mortal world. No doubt he would leave Caina behind to be killed by the nagataaru or the phobomorphic spirits or the ifriti or whatever else caught up to her first.

  It was the most efficient way of dealing with her. Caina had no way back to the mortal world, no way of escaping the netherworld without the Staff. Leaving her behind would be an easy way for Callatas to kill her without exposing himself to risk.

  Yet as Callatas cast his spell, Caina understood.

  She could control the netherworld more easily than he could.

  When the Alchemist Sinan had sent her into the netherworld, Caina had been able to reshape the psychomorphic terrain, calling the maze of Malarae’s dockside alleys into existence to confuse the phobomorphic spirits. Now that she was a valikarion, it seemed she could reshape the terrain with far less effort. Callatas could do the same…but he had required a spell to create his chasm. He needed to control the psychomorphic terrain through his spells. Caina could control the netherworld through thought alone.

  Just how far could she reshape the terrain?

  It was time to find out.

  Callatas continued his spell, the Staff glowing brighter, and Caina concentrated. The netherworld rippled around her, and a bolt of pain went through her head, but the chasm shrank like a man slamming a book closed. It vanished in an instant, and Caina sprinted forward, drawing back the ghostsilver dagger to strike at Callatas.

  The Grand Master whirled again and released his spell, throwing another wall of invisible force at Caina, but to the vision of valikarion his attack shone with power. Once again she imagined a wall, a fortified wall studded with bastions like the ancient wall that encircled Istarinmul, and it erupted from the ground beneath Caina, the earth reshaping itself to match her thoughts. Callatas’s spell slammed into the wall, and it shattered into mist beneath Caina’s boots, but she was already running, and she leaped from the ramparts as the wall vanished. She soared through the air a hundred feet over the ground, but she focused her will, and the ground erupted, rising in a plateau to meet her, and Caina’s leap turned into a gentle fall of a few feet.

  The plateau also lifted Callatas, and the Grand Master stumbled as he caught his balance. Caina slashed the dagger at him, and Callatas whipped the Staff of Iramis up to deflect. The block was clu
msy, and Caina could tell that the Grand Master had not used a physical weapon in a long time. Yet the gash the ghostsilver dagger had carved into his forearm had almost healed, and his shoulder was no longer dislocated.

  She had to kill him and take the Staff. It was the only way to stop him, to stop both the Apotheosis and Kharnaces’s plans. The Staff was the only way she had back to the mortal world.

  The only way she had to see Kylon again.

  Callatas summoned power, but Caina slashed again, forcing the old man to abandon his spell and block again. The ghostsilver dagger clanged off the staff, and Caina rolled her wrist, flicking the dagger along the outside of Callatas’s right arm. Again the blade tore through his wards, opening a smoking gash upon his skin. Callatas screamed in pain and rage and Caina lunged at him, hoping to grab his arm and pull him onto the dagger.

  Yet her fingers rebounded from his arm with a flash of light, a jolt of pain stabbing up her arm and into her shoulder. His wards would not allow her to touch him. Caina stumbled, and Callatas caught his breath, flinging out his arms with a shout. His spell sent psychokinetic force blasting from him in all directions. The spell did not last long, but it was enough to strike Caina and send her spinning through the air as if she had been struck by a giant pillow. She managed to concentrate upon the ground, making it softer than it would have been, and the landing that would have killed her instead only knocked the wind from her lungs.

  Caina scrambled back to her feet as Callatas cast another spell.

  His power reshaped the terrain of the netherworld like a lump of clay squeezed in a potter’s fist. The plain vanished beneath Caina’s boots, replaced by gleaming white flagstones. Walls erupted around her, enclosing her in a vast courtyard. Domes and towers rose overhead, brilliant and shining. To her left she saw a familiar garden and a white tower, the tower that marked the entrance to Callatas’s Maze and laboratory.

  Callatas’s spell had created a perfect replica of his palace in Istarinmul.

  Caina turned and saw the Grand Master at the far end of the courtyard, standing before the massive double doors to the palace proper. Callatas cast a spell, and a wall of brilliant golden flame erupted from him, spreading in a semicircle across the courtyard. Everything it touched transmuted into shining blue crystal, and the wall of transmuting fire rushed towards Caina. As it did, Callatas flung open the double doors to his palace.

  Callatas had likely expected Caina to flee or dodge, but instead she sprinted towards the fire, the shadow-cloak streaming behind her like a dark banner. The golden fire rose before her, and Caina concentrated. Part of the courtyard heaved, the stone flowing up like mercury, and it rose in a narrow arch before Caina, the fire blazing above the arch. She flung herself through the arch, still concentrating, and the double doors to the palace transformed into towering slabs of stone, freezing in place as Callatas tugged at them. The Grand Master snarled in rage, casting another spell as Caina ran at him. Another deadly lance of invisible psychokinetic force burst from his hand, and Caina concentrated again. Part of the courtyard reshaped itself into one of the Iramisian warding stones she had seen upon the beach, and the psychokinetic burst shattered against it.

  Yet as it did a wave of agony rolled through Caina’s skull, and she stumbled for half a step. Her headache had been growing worse, and now it felt as if she had hot nails jammed into her temples. Reshaping the psychomorphic terrain so quickly seemed to have a steep physical cost, one that was building up. It felt almost like the pain in her back and shoulders if she tried to lift something too heavy, the sinews and muscles straining beyond their capacity. Perhaps Caina’s mind was unused to the effort of so quickly reshaping the terrain. If she pushed too hard and too fast…

  It didn’t matter. Pushing too hard might kill her. Failing to push too hard would almost certainly let Callatas kill her.

  Caina grabbed the warding stone, using it as a pivot to change direction. She swung around the edge of the stone, hurtling towards Callatas, slashing the ghostsilver dagger. The Grand Master reeled back, starting a spell as he did, and this time the dagger’s tip nicked his jaw. Callatas hissed in pain, but continued his spell, and Caina dodged against the palace’s wall as psychokinetic force erupted from the Grand Master’s hands.

  But this time, the spell was not aimed at Caina.

  The Grand Master’s will sent him hurtling backwards across the courtyard, his bloodstained white robes and cloak billowing around him like wings. He landed on the outer wall of the courtyard. Callatas began another spell, and Caina sprinted towards him, concentrating as she ran. Pain flared through her head, but she pulled the wall towards her, even as she made a stone ramp rise from the courtyard.

  Callatas finished his spell, but this time the power flowed to the Seal upon his finger, the carved stone in the ring blazing with force.

  “Aid me!” thundered Callatas. “By the power of the Seal, I summon you! By the power of the Seal, I bind you! By the power of the Seal, I compel you!” He pointed at Caina, the Seal’s carved stone shining with blue light. “Slay the Balarigar! By the power of the Seal, by the command of Callatas, by the will of Kotuluk Iblis, slay the Balarigar!”

  Caina was halfway up the ramp, and dozens of billowing black shadows erupted from the courtyard. They seemed to take the shape of hooded creatures, their eyes blazing with purple fire. They swept back and forth through the courtyard, moving with the speed of circling birds, and Caina skidded to a halt as one passed a few feet in front of her.

  They were nagataaru spirits, and Callatas had summoned hundreds of them, binding them with the Seal’s power. Caina gripped her ghostsilver dagger and held it out before her, the blade shining with white fire, but it seemed a small weapon to use against hundreds of nagataaru. They could swarm over her like rats…

  Yet the nagataaru continued sweeping back and forth…and Caina realized they could not see her.

  She was valikarion. Spirits could not perceive her, and it seemed that ability functioned in the netherworld as well. Yet even as the realization came to her, she saw that the nagataaru were sweeping through the courtyard in a systematic way. They couldn’t see her, but they knew that she was there, and once they found her…

  A nagataaru brushed her, pain shooting up her left arm. The spirit froze, shadows swirling around it like a cloak, and it let out a keening scream. Caina slashed at the nagataaru with the ghostsilver dagger, and the spirit reeled back, but it was too late. The other nagataaru swarmed towards her, hundreds of them, and she saw Callatas casting a spell from the outer wall. If the nagataaru didn’t finish her, whatever spell Callatas cast would…

  White light flashed from Caina’s left wrist.

  Her ghostsilver pyrikon unfolded itself, swelling into a towering warrior armored from head to foot in plate armor, a glowing sword in its right fist and a massive shield upon its left arm. The pyrikon attacked, sword rising and falling, and the nagataaru fell back.

  “Defend!” thundered the pyrikon, its voice like the blast of a trumpet. “Defend the liberator! To arms, my kindred! Defend the liberator!”

  Dozens of balls of white light shot across the courtyard, blurring across Caina’s vision like a rain of falling stars. The glowing spheres expanded into more armored warriors, and soon scores of pyrikon spirits contended against the nagataaru, continuing their endless, eternal war. Callatas finished his spell, golden fire bursting from his hand, and Caina focused her mind upon the stone ramp beneath her feet. It shrank and flattened, plunging her back to the courtyard, and Callatas’s spell missed by mere inches.

  Caina stumbled as a searing bolt of pain shot through her head, and she felt something wet touch her upper lip.

  Her nose was bleeding. She had a brief vision of her brain dissolving into mush from the effort of changing the terrain again and again.

  Gray light flared around the outer wall as Callatas began yet another spell. The nagataaru might not have been able to see her, but Callatas had no trouble, and he could throw spell after
spell until he killed her.

  But what if he couldn’t see her? She had been a Ghost nightfighter long before she had become a valikarion, and she preferred to strike from shadows and stealth.

  Perhaps she could do the same here.

  Caina concentrated as hard as she could, focusing upon the replica of the palace that Callatas had pulled into existence. Pain flooded her skull, and for an awful instant it felt as if she had thrust her head into a blacksmith’s fire.

  Yet the netherworld reformed itself around her.

  The palace vanished, replaced by the maze of warehouses and alleys that surrounded the harbor in the Imperial capital of Malarae. Countless warehouses of weathered brick rose around Caina, roofed in crumbling red tiles. Fog flooded through the alleys. Thick fogs often rolled into Malarae off the Bay of Empire, and sometimes it was hard to see more than a dozen feet in any direction in the hazy gloom.

  Callatas could not see Caina in the gloomy maze of the docks, and she sprinted forward in silence.

  He could not see her…but she could see him.

  For not even the fogs of Malarae could conceal the Staff and the Seal and the Star of Iramis from the vision of the valikarion. She saw the glow of the relics, saw the glow right through the walls of brick and the mist and the pyrikon spirits battling against the nagataaru.

  Callatas was not far away. The other side of the warehouse, Caina thought.

  She took a step forward…and a wave of searing pain accompanied by dizziness rolled through her head, and she had to grab at a rough brick wall to stay upright. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth, forcing the pain back, forcing herself to keep going. Power flared around Callatas, and the glow of the Staff of Iramis brightened. He was preparing to use the Staff to return to the mortal world and leave her here to die.