“Have you?” said Caina. “That’s quite a feat, given that you were trapped here.”
Kharnaces only smiled. “You have met Callatas, have you not?”
Caina blinked. “How did you know?”
He pointed at the lead-lined leather pouch at her belt, the pouch that held the vials of Elixir Restorata. “You carry items fashioned by his sorcery. I recognize his mark, for I taught him much of what he knows.”
“He came here, did he not?” said Caina. “To learn from you?”
“You have indeed met my wayward student. So talented, but so arrogant,” said Kharnaces. Caina was beginning to suspect that Kharnaces liked to talk to himself. The Moroaica had been the same way. If Caina could goad Kharnaces into revealing useful information…
“I have,” said Caina. “He must have angered you greatly.”
“No more than I expected,” said Kharnaces. “I anticipated his treachery, though the timing was most inconvenient. He came to me after some personal loss or tragedy. I never bothered to learn the details. Some men learn wisdom through suffering, but Callatas was not one of them. He had a grand plan to make all mankind anew, to end suffering and death and pain by creating a new humanity, one that was immortal and invincible. So he came to me to learn the secrets of Maatish necromancy, in hopes of creating a new and immortal mankind.” He shook his head. “He failed to see the truth. Mankind is like a horse with a broken leg. It cannot be healed. It can only be put out of its misery.”
“That is madness,” said Caina.
“Unquestionably, for the world and all mankind shall be devoured by the nagataaru of Kotuluk Iblis,” said Kharnaces. “I had a use for Callatas, so I allowed him to remain, and taught him many secrets he could not have learned otherwise. He became fascinated with the nagataaru, for he observed the Harbinger, and noted how a nagataaru could bestow tremendous strength and power upon a living mortal.”
“Like the Red Huntress,” said Caina.
“The title is unknown to me,” said Kharnaces. “I presume Callatas began experiments as soon as he escaped from me. He discarded his original plan, and constructed another using the knowledge I taught him. A living human mind has a natural resistance to possession by a spirit. Using an alchemical Elixir, Callatas would break down that resistance in a few thousand subjects. Then he would summon large numbers of nagataaru to take possession of them, creating humans that would have the strength and resilience and violent appetites granted by the power of the nagataaru. His new humanity would then exterminate the old and take possession of the world.”
“Gods,” said Caina. “That’s his plan. That’s his Apotheosis.” All the pieces she had spent the last two years gathering clicked together in his mind. “The wraithblood addicts. There are tens of thousands of wraithblood addicts in Istarinmul. No one knows how many. If he gets his hands on the Staff and Seal, he’ll summon nagataaru to possess them all…”
“And a tide of blood and death unlike any this world has ever seen will be unleashed,” said Kharnaces. The strange black bloodcrystal continued to circle him, beginning to glimmer with emerald fire. “It is a foolish plan. But unlike many foolish plans, it will succeed. All he needs are these relics,” he gestured at the Staff and Seal upon their stone table, “and his work will at last come to fruition. The Apotheosis, he calls it now? How characteristically pompous of him. But he was ever a man who was convinced of his own righteousness.”
“Is that why you haven’t killed me yet?” said Caina. “You want his plan to succeed. You think Kotuluk Iblis is a god, and even though Callatas doesn’t, he’s going to summon hordes of nagataaru. So you’ll let me go with the Staff and the Seal.”
“Kill you?” said Kharnaces. His purple-burning eyes blinked. “Why should I do that? I’ve been waiting for some like you ever since the loremaster and her tame assassin left the Iramisian regalia here. No, Callatas is going to return here. You’re going to bring him back for me. For Apotheosis will never come to pass.”
“Why not?” said Caina.
“Because the nagataaru will have devoured this world by then,” said Kharnaces.
“How?” said Caina.
“I am the Harbinger, and the Harbinger is me,” said Kharnaces. “I shall offer this world as a sacrifice to Kotuluk Iblis.”
“That sphere in the bloodcrystal chamber,” said Caina. “That’s what it does. That will…let you summon Kotuluk Iblis and the nagataaru?”
“Certainly not,” said Kharnaces. “It is called a Conjurant Bloodcrystal.”
“Conjurant?” said Caina. “I’ve never heard of a bloodcrystal like that.”
“I created it,” said Kharnaces. “When activated, it shall completely destroy the barrier between the mortal world and the netherworld.”
Caina blinked. “That will…” She had seen the netherworld, more than once, had seen the malevolent spirits that dwelled there, the nagataaru among them. “That will…that will kill everyone.”
“By design,” said Kharnaces. “It is this world’s destiny to be consumed by Kotuluk Iblis.”
“No,” said Caina. “It is utter madness. It…” A thought occurred to her. “You said you wanted Callatas to return here. That you needed him to return. Why? Surely you can use your Conjurant Bloodcrystal without him.”
“I need him to return,” said Kharnaces, “because I used his blood as the base to grow the bloodcrystal.”
Caina blinked. “And…you need his blood to finish it.”
“You deduce correctly,” said Kharnaces. “Alas, that was ever the weakness of bloodcrystals, no matter how powerful. Blood must be used as the initial base to grow the bloodcrystal…and the previous owner of that blood is consequently immune to the power of that particular bloodcrystal.”
“I’ve heard that,” said Caina. It had saved her life. Maglarion had grown his mighty bloodcrystal from the blood he had taken from Caina as a child, which had saved her life when he tried to kill her with that same bloodcrystal seven years later.
“The Conjurant Bloodcrystal is nearly finished,” said Kharnaces. “To activate it, I merely require more blood from the original base. I require more of Callatas’s blood. Unfortunately, he fled my Tomb before I could take it. Fortunately, I anticipated his treachery, and made preparations. I laid a spell over his mind, a compulsion that he would not be able to resist. When he claimed the royal regalia of Iramis, he would return to Pyramid Isle with all haste. He would think it was his own idea. I knew what he intended, and expected his return within a few years.”
“But the loremaster brought the Staff and the Seal here,” said Caina, “the one place Callatas would never come of his own will.”
“Yes.” For the first time irritation went over Kharnaces’s serene face. “So it has been necessary to wait until someone entered the Tomb to find the regalia. I expected one of Callatas’s agents. One of his foes? All the better.”
“Why is that?” said Caina. “I intend to kill Callatas and prevent him from using the Staff and the Seal. With no Callatas, his Apotheosis never happens. And with no Callatas, your Conjurant Bloodcrystal is never finished.”
“No,” said Kharnaces. “You shall bring Callatas to me.”
“And just why I am going to do that?” said Caina.
“Through compulsion,” said Kharnaces. The small bloodcrystal came to a stop between them. “I do not know who you are, but the Harbinger can observe something your past and nature. I see great victories in your past, powerful foes undone and overthrown. You defeated the abomination, the Destroyer of Maat! You are even capable of thwarting my designs. Therefore, I shall place a binding upon you. You will return to Istarinmul and present the Staff and the Seal to Callatas. Then, since you are capable of defeating me, the spell will kill you.”
“Really,” said Caina, her throat dry. Was this it? Was this the doom the Sulaman had foreseen for her? “There is a flaw in that plan.”
“That I have just told you everything?” said Kharnaces. “That is true.
Fortunately, the solution is at hand.” He gestured, and the rotating bloodcrystal began to shine brighter. “Do you know what this is?”
“A bloodcrystal,” said Caina, watching it. An aura of potent sorcery began to burn around the crystal.
“A lesser bloodcrystal,” said Kharnaces. “Specifically, a Compellant Bloodcrystal. It can only be used once. It induces a compulsion into your mind, one that you must obey even if you are unaware of it on a conscious level. As an added bonus, it will also remove your memory of the compulsion and this conversation. Once you have completed the compelled task, the bloodcrystal’s power will kill you. Of course, the mental strain may cause insanity, but I am confident your mind is strong enough to complete your task.”
Caina stared to say something, but Kharnaces gestured, and again she could not speak.
“No, the time for discussion has ended,” said Kharnaces. “Know that you shall accomplish this world’s destiny, and offer it to Kotuluk Iblis at last. I, Kharnaces, decree it to be so.”
He gestured, and green fire sprang from his fingers and wrapped around her left wrist. The pyrikon let out an angry buzz and glowed with white light, fighting against Kharnaces’s spell. His sorcery was suppressing the pyrikon, blocking its ability to protect Caina.
One more gesture, and the Compellant Bloodcrystal…melted.
It dissolved into a thick black liquid, becoming a wobbling sphere of fluid darkness that floated between Caina and Kharnaces. The aura of power around it doubled again. Caina struggled against the invisible force holding her. The pyrikon’s light was starting to quench Kharnaces’s fire. If she could rouse the pyrikon, if she could break free of the spell…
Kharnaces pointed, and the sphere of black fluid struck Caina in the face.
Pain exploded through her, and had she been able to move she would have screamed, would tried to have wipe the icy black liquid from her face. Its touch was freezing agony, and she felt it oozing over her head, twitching back and forth like a living thing.
Then it started flowing up her nostrils and forcing its way between her lips and down her throat, and Caina could not breathe. Every muscle went rigid, pain surging through her as the black slime flowed into her, seeming to fill her with icy coldness. The chill should have numbed her, but it was as if she had been filled with razors.
Then all at once Kharnaces’s spell vanished, and Caina stumbled, clawing at her throat. She hit the wall, lost her balance, and fell hard to the floor, twitching as she tried to stand, tried to breathe. She rubbed at her face, trying to get the slime away, only to feel nothing.
It had poured itself into her, and she felt it spreading through her body like poison.
Darkness closed around her vision, her thoughts shattering, and the last thing she was Kharnaces staring down at her, his face impassive.
###
Caina jerked awake.
For a panicked instant she could not remember where she was. She sat up, snatching the ghostsilver dagger from the floor next to her. Her head spun with the movement, her arms throbbing, and she put her left hand on the floor for balance. Cold sweat dripped down her jaw and neck, and despite that she felt feverish and hot.
Was she ill?
No. It felt…it felt as if she had been poisoned.
She looked around, her throbbing mind coming back into focus. Rows of shelves laden with papyrus scrolls stretched into the gloom. The library, she was still in the library. She turned her head and saw the Staff and the Seal of Iramis lying upon their table. Caina remembered coming into the library, remembered finding the relics, and then…and then…
Her memory got a bit foggy.
There was…something. A green beetle? A white robe? The pieces danced at the edges of her consciousness, but she could not pull them together.
The library swam around her. Caina closed her eyes, trying to slow her breathing, and bit by bit her head stopped spinning. Yet the throbbing, feverish sensation remained. Caina raked her free hand through her hair and realized that her cowl was down. She pulled it back up and stood, trying not to fall over.
What had happened to her?
She must have blundered into a trap. A poisoned needle or knife that had broken her skin. Worse, the poison seemed sorcerous in nature. She felt the cold sensation of necromantic power, but this time it was coming from beneath her skin. Caina realized that she had to hurry. Even if the poison had not been fatal, it was weakening her. She had to get the Staff and the Seal to Nasser and Kylon before she collapsed.
And then…and then…
Perhaps this was her promised death.
Caina went the table and picked up the Staff and the Seal. The power of them made her skin crawl, made her bones hum in time to their mighty auras. The Staff of Iramis allowed its wielder to call up legions of spirits from the netherworld, while the Seal allowed its bearer to command those spirits. She dropped the Seal into her satchel and kept the Staff in hand. Idly Caina wondered what the Star of Iramis did. Perhaps it provided power to the other two relics. Callatas still had the Star, wore it around his neck…
Another wave of dizziness shot through her, worse than before, pain shooting up and down her arms and legs. Caina closed her eyes and leaned against the Staff for balance, its end rasping against the stone floor. She had to get the relics out before her strength failed. Otherwise Kylon and Nasser would not be able to pass the nagataaru and the chamber of the bloodcrystals, and Caina’s bones would lie here alongside the relics for all time.
She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and froze.
Her mother stood a few paces away, glaring at her.
Laeria Amalas looked exactly as Caina remembered, the same blue eyes, the same long, thick black hair, the same features, all of them so similar to Caina’s own. Caina had taken her looks from her mother, not her father, and Caina had never been pleased about that. Laeria wore a golden dress with black trim, jewels sparkling on her fingers and ears, and she glared at Caina with icy hatred.
“You,” whispered Caina. “No, you’re dead. I killed you and you’re dead.”
Laeria’s smile showed her white teeth. “Murdered by you, my useless daughter. What a failure you are. Again and again you have failed, and you are about to fail once more.”
“She is right,” said a man’s voice. Caina flinched as Halfdan walked around a shelf, clad in the robes and merchant’s cap he had worn on the day Sicarion had killed him. His chest was wet with blood, and the tip of Sicarion’s sword still jutted between his ribs. “How I regret saving you. I should have let you die in Maglarion’s lair. I took you in, I trained you, I made you what you are…and you let me die.”
“No,” said Caina, shaking her head. “No, I tried to save you, I swear…”
“I doubt that,” said another man’s voice, low and sardonic, and Caina’s blood turned to ice.
Corvalis Aberon stepped next to Halfdan, folding his arms over his chest. The sight of his green eyes, hard face, and close-cropped blond hair filled Caina with something worse than pain. He stared at her, his face twisted with contempt.
“Corvalis,” croaked Caina, sweat dripping into her eyes. “Please. I…I…”
“What a fool I was,” said Corvalis. “I should have realized the truth. Claudia was right about you. I was nothing more than a tool to you. You cast me aside and let the Moroaica slay me the minute you no longer needed me.”
“No!” said Caina, reaching towards him. “No, I didn’t. She killed you. I tried to save you, I…”
“How long did it take you to forget me?” said Corvalis. “Have you taken the Kyracian into your bed yet? Perhaps you will amuse yourself with him until you tire of him as you tired of me, and then you shall send him to his death.”
“No,” said Caina. “It’s not like that. I wasn’t like that. Please, Corvalis…”
Laeria laughed, long and mocking. “You are just like me, daughter. Just like me. Only you are better at seduction than ever I was. I seduced your father, but he was a weak
and useless man. You seduce strong men and cast them off when you have no further need of…”
Caina screamed swung the Staff of Iramis as a club, just as she had thirteen years ago when she had swung a fireplace poker and accidentally killed her mother.
The Staff swept through the air without meeting resistance.
Caina was alone in the library.
She looked around, trembling, and saw no sign of her mother or Corvalis or Halfdan.
Bit by bit she realized that she had been hallucinating.
That was bad. That was very bad. The poison was attacking her mind as well as her body. She had to get to the others now, while she could still function.
Caina hurried from the library, weaving like a drunk, her body seeming to burn and freeze at the same time.
###
Kylon paced back and forth, the valikon flickering in his hand.
“You should really stop that,” said Morgant.
“Morgant,” said Annarah. Morgant sighed, rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to his notebook, his pencil flickering as he sketched across the pages. Kylon had the distinct impression that Morgant was sketching a caricature of him. He wanted to take that notebook and jam it somewhere Morgant would find difficult to retrieve.
That would do nothing to help Caina, so Kylon kept pacing.
“The waiting,” said Nasser. Kylon glanced at him.
“I’m sorry?” he said.
“The waiting,” said Nasser. “When you command men in battle and cannot accompany them. The waiting is the hardest part, perhaps even harder than exposing yourself to danger. You have commanded men in battle, have you not, Lord Kylon?”
“Yes,” said Kylon. “Though…I never led from the back.” He shook his head. “That would be a waste of a stormdancer’s abilities. Whenever the seventh fleet went into battle, I fought with the men.”
“You and Ciaran,” said Nasser. “You must have gone into battle before.”
Kylon blinked. He had forgotten that Caina had convinced Nasser and Laertes that she was a man. He supposed it was one final layer of disguise, one last misdirection in case Nasser and Laertes were captured and made to talk.
Ghost in the Seal (Ghost Exile #6) Page 25
