Ghost in the Winds (Ghost Exile #9)

by Jonathan Moeller

  The corsairs parted as Sanjar Murat, notorious pirate and corsair captain, strode towards her. He was a towering man, nearly seven feet tall, his flashing white teeth a stark contrast to his dark skin. Murat wore black boots, black trousers, and a red coat hanging open to show a muscular torso, a bandoleer of throwing knives slung across his chest.

  “Thank you for waiting,” said Caina.

  Murat shrugged. “You paid us to do nothing. It’s a rare situation, and I prefer to enjoy it. Plus, once we take you back to Istarinmul, Glasshand will pay us again. Though I am curious. What the devil happened on that island?”

  “Well,” said Caina, “if you must know, I burned down the island.”

  Morgant snorted.

  “Did you, now,” said Murat, his eyes narrowed with bemusement. “Why?”

  “Long story,” said Caina. “If we live through the next few days, perhaps I’ll tell you the entire story. Right now, I need to get to Istarinmul as soon as possible.”

  “Very well,” said Murat, and he barked a few orders at his first mate, who in turn began shouting orders at the crew.

  “How long?” said Caina.

  “To get to Istarinmul from here?” said Murat with a shrug. “Six to eight days. Maybe longer, if we hit the winds wrong, but six days is the fastest we can manage.”

  Caina’s heart sank. Six days. As she looked towards the pulsing gray glow in the northwest, she knew that would be far too long. They didn’t have six days.

  They might not even have a day.

  There was no way she could get to Istarinmul in time, no way she could stop Callatas.

  Caina let out a ragged breath.

  She had failed. She couldn’t get to Istarinmul…

  A thought occurred to her.

  Caina couldn’t get to Istarinmul, but perhaps someone else could. She remembered the dream in the Tomb of Kharnaces, the dream where Samnirdamnus had told her that she was the one she had sought. Caina still could not guess at the djinni’s motivations, but she was certain he had not expended so much effort to save her life just so she could die aboard the Sandstorm when Callatas finished the Apotheosis.

  He had said he could call upon him, that she would know the time.

  This seemed like the time.

  Caina closed her eyes and concentrated, trying to reach out with her mind.

  “Samnirdamnus,” she said. “Samnirdamnus, Knight of Wind and Air, hear me. Samnirdamnus, hear my call.”

  Something shifted around her.

  Caina opened her eyes and saw that the Sandstorm and the sea had frozen, the corsairs motionless in mid-step. All color had leached away from the world, painting everything in shades of gray.

  Everything but Samnirdamnus himself.

  The Knight of Wind and Air stood on the deck a few yards away, again wearing the black-robed form of Emperor Alexius Naerius, his eyes burning with the smokeless flame of the djinn.

  “And here we are, at last, my darling demonslayer,” said Samnirdamnus in his sardonic drawl. “It has been a long journey, has it not? A long and difficult journey.” He smiled. “But the moment has come at last.”

  “What moment is that?” said Caina.

  “The moment when I may at last act,” said Samnirdamnus.

  “Haven’t you been acting already?” said Caina.

  “Certainly not,” said Samnirdamnus. “I have done nothing at all, my dear Balarigar. I simply have made suggestions. To you. To the Razor. To the stormdancer. To Prince Nasser Glasshand and the loremaster Annarah, and a few other exceptional individuals. But I have done absolutely nothing at all. I merely make suggestions. It is not my fault if mortals choose to follow those suggestions…and I have not violated the terms of the binding Callatas placed upon me.”

  “But you can act now?” said Caina. “What changed?”

  “The Apotheosis is beginning,” said Samnirdamnus. “Callatas opens the door for the nagataaru to devour your world. The nagataaru are the ancient enemies of the djinn of the Court of the Azure Sovereign, and my duty to oppose them supersedes any duty I have to Callatas.” He smirked. “That, and you asked so very nicely.”

  “Then what can you do?” said Caina.

  “Myself?” said Samnirdamnus. “Sadly little. Alas, I have but meager rank among the lords and knights of the Court of the Azure Sovereign. Spies are not well-regarded among lords, as you have likely learned by now.”

  “No,” said Caina. “But can you do anything to aid us?”

  “What manner of aid do you require?” said Samnirdamnus.

  “Callatas is starting the Apotheosis,” said Caina. “I have to get to Istarinmul to stop him. But Istarinmul is six to eight days away, assuming the ship doesn’t hit a storm and get blown off course or attacked by pirates. We don’t have six to eight days. We may not even have a full day.”

  “You have, at most, twenty-four hours before Callatas completes his spells,” said Samnirdamnus. “Another twenty-four hours and this world will belong to the nagataaru.”

  Caina grimaced. Twenty-four hours?

  “And it is entirely possible,” said Samnirdamnus, “that he will finish sooner. The spell is rather like an avalanche. The further down the hill it slides, the more speed it again…”

  “You see my problem, then,” said Caina. “I have to get to Istarinmul before it’s too late. Callatas…he must have somehow used the Staff of Iramis to traverse the netherworld and return to Istarinmul.”

  “He did,” said Samnirdamnus. “Alas, you have no such option. Annarah could open the way to the netherworld for you, but if you did, you would be promptly overcome and slain by the nagataaru. Kotuluk Iblis, you see, thinks you are a threat.”

  “We’ve met a few times,” said Caina.

  “And you escaped those meetings,” said Samnirdamnus, the Emperor’s face smiling. “Mortals whom Kotuluk Iblis finds annoying rarely escape meetings with him, yet here you are. The nagataaru are flooding through the netherworld, waiting for Callatas to let them into the mortal world. Were you to enter the netherworld now, you would not make it three steps before you were slain.”

  “Fine,” said Caina. “We can’t do that. Can you get me to Istarinmul before it is too late?”

  “Yes,” said Samnirdamnus, and the smokeless flame in his eyes seemed to pulse brighter.

  “How?” said Caina.

  “By calling the Court of the Azure Sovereign to battle,” said Samnirdamnus.

  “You…can do that?” said Caina.

  “I can,” said Samnirdamnus. “It is within my authority as Knight of Wind and Air. The Azure Sovereign hibernates, many of our nobles have been imprisoned, and the Court has been scattered far and wide. Few of us remain to resist the nagataaru. Yet when we are called together for battle, we are still formidable, and we may be able to delay the nagataaru.”

  “And…the Court of the Azure Sovereign can get us to Istarinmul in time?” said Caina.

  “Certainly,” said Samnirdamnus.

  “How?” said Caina again.

  “The explanation would be rather complicated, and our time grows short,” said Samnirdamnus. “If we are to do this, you must ask for my help.”

  “I already did,” said Caina.

  “You must petition the Court of the Azure Sovereign to defend your world,” said Samnirdamnus. “As a mortal upon a world about to be destroyed by the nagataaru, that is within your right.”

  “Fine,” said Caina. “Is that you want? Is that the reason you have manipulated us? So you could have permission to fight the nagataaru?”

  “I can do nothing,” said Samnirdamnus with a calm smile, “without your petition.”

  “All right,” said Caina. “I, Caina Amalas, do petition you, Samnirdamnus, Knight of Wind and Air, to call the Court of the Azure Sovereign to our aid. Is that enough? Do you need something in writing? Maybe if I ever see Sulaman again, I can borrow his signet ring and use it to seal it.”

  “Ah,” said Samnirdamnus.

  He let o
ut a long, contented sigh, like a man at least seeing the fruition of a long and wearisome task.

  “Well?” said Caina. “Is that enough?”

  “Turn,” said Samnirdamnus, his black robe starting to ripple in a sudden wind, “and see a sight that few mortals have ever beheld.”

  Caina turned, looking over the rail of the Sandstorm towards Pyramid Isle, where the frozen plumes of black smoke rose from the island.

  Except…that was not all she saw.

  Smokeless fire flashed in the sky.

  A lot of smokeless fire.

  A storm was coming, flowing through the frozen clouds of smoke, a massive, towering storm, larger than any storm Caina had ever seen, so large that it looked as if a colossal wall of thunderheads rose from the sea to the heavens themselves. It was no natural storm.

  “Is that…” she heard herself say.

  “The Host of the Court of the Azure Sovereign,” said Samnirdamnus, “riding to war against Kotuluk Iblis and his nagataaru.”

  “Is that what you meant when you said you were looking for someone like me?” said Caina. “Someone who could call the Court to battle in this world?”

  “Close,” said Samnirdamnus, “but not quite. You will soon…”

  “Knight of Wind and Air!”

  The colossal voice boomed from the storm cloud.

  It wasn’t quite as terrifying and alien as the voice of Kotuluk Iblis. Samnirdamnus had always used a human voice to speak with Caina. Nevertheless, this sounded like a voice fashioned from blasts of thunder.

  “Lord of Storm and Frost!” called Samnirdamnus. “By my authority as Knight of Wind and Air, I summon the Court of the Azure Sovereign to battle. The nagataaru host of Kotuluk Iblis prepares to consume this world, and a mortal denizen has petitioned for our aid. Therefore, by the laws that govern us and the duties that bind us, I summon the Court to battle.”

  For a moment there was silence, and then tremendous laughter thundered from the vast storm.

  “What cunning stratagem is this?” said the Lord of Storm and Frost. “Have you another game to play, Knight of Wind and Air? Long you have tarried upon this world, and the Court is scattered and weak. Our Sovereign sleeps, our greatest lords are bound, and we have not the strength to resist the nagataaru.”

  “Nevertheless, our duty is clear, and our duty governs us in all things,” said Samnirdamnus. “The chances of victory or defeat are immaterial. Our duty binds us. You are the marshal of the Host of the Azure Court, Lord of Storm and Frost. Therefore we must act.”

  For a moment silence fell, though the storm cloud swelled and expanded. Caina suspected that the Lord of Storm and Frost was another djinni of the Court, though one of greater authority than Samnirdamnus. Yet it seemed that the Lord of Storm and Frost was listening to Samnirdamnus…just as the Ghost circlemasters often advised the lords of the Empire and even the Emperor himself.

  Just as Caina herself had advised Sulaman, the true heir to the throne of Istarinmul.

  “So be it,” said the Lord of Storm and Frost. “You have a stratagem to play, Knight of Wind and Air? Then we shall play it to the end. Perhaps we shall be victorious, though I see not how. Perhaps we shall be defeated, which seems the more likely outcome. But we shall fight, for it is indeed our duty.”

  Caina looked back at Samnirdamnus, saw him gazing at the colossal storm with satisfaction.

  “What did we just do?” she said.

  “What we needed to do,” said Samnirdamnus. “We summoned the Court of the Azure Sovereign to war. You may want to hold onto something. It is possible the ride will become a little bumpy.”

  He vanished, and the world around Caina erupted back into noise and motion and color. She staggered a little, catching her balance. Murat was still shouting his orders to his crew, seconded by his first mate. Annarah caught Caina’s elbow, helping her to steady herself.

  “What happened?” said Annarah.

  “Samnirdamnus,” said Caina.

  Morgant scowled. “The Knight of Wind and Air is up to his old tricks?”

  “No,” said Caina. “No, I think Callatas has finally crossed some kind of line. Samnirdamnus is free to act against him now. And I think if Samnirdamnus is invited, he can bring allies to fight against Callatas.”

  “Allies?” said Annarah.

  Morgant’s eyes narrowed. “Just what did you do?”

  Caina started to answer, but Murat’s astonished shout cut her off.

  “What the hell is that?” said the corsair captain. He looked as astonished as Caina had ever seen him.

  She turned and saw the storm.

  The colossal storm had followed her from the strange black-and-white place where she had spoken with Samnirdamnus.

  It was even larger in the waking world, so large it stretched from the horizon to the horizon, so large that the huge plumes of smoke still rising from Pyramid Isle seemed like trees at the base of a mountain. Lightning flashed and danced within the roiling gray clouds, and Caina saw the gleam of smokeless fire in its depths.

  “By the Living Flame!” said one of the corsairs. “It is a storm to end all storms! The world has come to an end!”

  Murat stared at the huge, impossible storm, and Caina saw his resolve starting to waver. The corsairs had faced all manner of deadly foes and prevailed, yet they had never faced anything like this.

  Come to think of it, Caina had never faced anything like this.

  “What did you do?” said Morgant again.

  Caina only listened with half an ear. If Murat and the crew panicked and abandoned the ship, they would likely drown. For that matter, despite whatever Samnirdamnus had planned, Caina doubted she could get to Istarinmul without a crew manning the Sandstorm.

  “Murat!” she shouted.

  Murat’s dark gaze snapped to her.

  “There is no need to fear,” said Caina.

  Murat snorted. “Are you insane?”

  “Oh, probably,” said Caina. She didn’t need to look at Morgant to know that he had rolled his eyes at that. “But there is no need to fear because I called the storm.”

  “You did?” said Murat, incredulous. “And who are you to do that?”

  Caina grinned at him. There was a time and a place for secrecy. But there was also a time and a place to tell the truth, and she thought that time had come at last.

  “My name isn’t really Ciaran,” said Caina. “It’s Caina Amalas. I am the Balarigar.”

  “Oh, gods,” muttered Morgant.

  Murat blinked. “The…Balarigar? The one with the bounty?”

  “I burned down the Widow’s Tower and the Craven’s Tower,” said Caina, exaggerating a little. She felt the stunned eyes of the corsairs upon her. “I destroyed the Inferno, and I raised the emirs of the south to rebellion. I killed the Umbarian magus Cassander Nilas and kept him from burning Istarinmul to ashes.” Actually, Kylon had killed Cassander, but Caina thought he wouldn’t mind the small lie. “That’s who I really am.”

  Murat stared at her, an incredulous scowl coming over his face. “You mean to say I’ve had a woman with a bounty of two million bezants on her head strutting around my ship?”

  Caina gestured at the huge storm racing towards them. “Do you wish to collect on it? Anyone? Do we have volunteers?”

  No one stirred.

  “If you called the storm,” said Murat at last, “what is it going to do?”

  “It’s going to war,” said Caina. “It’s not really a storm. It is an army of djinn, the Host of the Court of the Azure Sovereign. Grand Master Callatas is about to summon a horde of demons into the world. The djinn don’t like the demons, so they’re going to fight them. Along the way, they’re going to give us a ride back to Istarinmul.”

  “A ride?” said Murat.

  “Yes,” said Caina. She was beginning to suspect how Samnirdamnus would accomplish that. “Make sure the ship is ready to move. I think we’ll be in Istarinmul in a few hours.”

  The huge storm hurtled closer
. Murat stared at her, and Caina stared right back. At last the corsair captain shook his head, turned, and shouted for his men to make the ship ready for speed, banking the oars and raising the sails. Caina stood next to Morgant and Annarah as the massive wall of cloud raced towards them, faster and faster.

  “You know,” said Morgant in a contemplative tone. “I wish…”

  “You really wish there was time to paint that?” said Caina.

  “Yes, indeed,” said Morgant. “But, gods! Who would believe it?”

  The storm swept past Pyramid Isle, making it disappear, and the vast wall of cloud yawned up before Caina and the others on the Sandstorm.

  And in that instant, she saw that it wasn’t really a storm at all.

  It was the djinn.

  Thousands and thousands of djinn.

  Caina saw horsemen and chariots fashioned from cloud and mist, carrying swords and spears fashioned from lightning, their eyes burning with smokeless flame. It was an army of djinn, hurtling forward to do battle with the nagataaru.

  The storm hurtled past the Sandstorm, the sails billowing, the masts and deck creaking, and the ship jolted forward with such speed that Caina almost lost her balance. Horsemen of cloud and mist galloped alongside the ship, some of them on the surface of the water, others of them riding through the air. The Sandstorm shot forward so fast that the motion should have ripped the ship apart.

  Murat looked over the railing and shouted a furious curse.

  Caina looked at him, and then at the waves.

  The water was receding away below the Sandstorm.

  The djinn had lifted the corsair ship into the air, carrying it as they hurtled to the northwest at terrific speed. The Sandstorm rose higher, the sails billowing, the waves shrinking below them as the djinn lifted the ship.

  It was one the single most exhilarating and terrifying moments in Caina’s life. She had gone to many places and seen many wonderful and horrifying things, but never in her life had she flown as the birds soared over the earth. The reaction of the corsairs ranged from the same wonder to stark terror (which was probably the more rational response), and Murat himself simply looked astonished, his mouth hanging open.