She turned her attention from the auras before the dizziness overwhelmed her. Sometimes if she gazed at an arcane aura for too long, or tried to examine an arcane aura from too far away, she suffered a severe vertigo attack. The valikarion in Iramis had explained it to her, saying that the mortal mind was trying to interpret things it had never been meant to see and that if she pushed her mind too hard, it would recoil from the sight.
“My lady?” said Sophia.
Caina dismissed her musings. “I suppose that means the reveniri didn’t come from inside the city. They couldn’t have gone through the gate. Of course, I suppose with those freezing claws they could have gone right over the wall like cockroaches.”
“I have heard tales that say the reveniri climb through high windows and balconies at night to eat children,” said Sophia, “though I know not if these tales are true. Lord Sebastian might know for certain.”
“I’ll ask him later,” said Caina. “Probably not a conversation for the market, though.”
Seb pulled his wagon out of the line of traffic and came to a stop, and Caina brought her own horses to a halt, dropped from her seat, and walked to join him and Kylon.
“It occurs to me,” said Seb, “that we need to find someone who knows Teodor, and driving our wagons through the streets of the city will be cumbersome. I suggest we proceed to an inn and lodge our goods there. Then we can visit the local Temples and see if anyone knows Teodor. If not, then we can take him to Lady Libavya’s sanitarium in the Old City.”
Caina frowned. “That was what the man at the gate said? He wanted us to take him to the sanitarium?”
“Ah, your Ulkaari is improving,” said Seb.
“Not yet. I guessed it by context.”
“But, yes, that is what the guard suggested,” said Seb.
“Do you know an honest innkeeper?” said Caina.
Kylon snorted. “If such a man exists.”
“As it happens,” said Seb, “I do.”
“Lead the way, then,” said Caina, turning back to her wagon.
###
Sebastian Scorneus did not like Vagraastrad.
It wasn’t the narrow, cramped streets, or the cold-eyed, suspicious people, or the haughty arrogance of the Voivode and his szlachts. Vagraastrad, for all its flaws, did have its strong points. The Voivode hanged any magistrates caught taking bribes, so the city had a relatively honest if harsh government. It was an Ulkaari city, but the sewers had been dug in the Imperial style, so dysentery and other diseases of poor sanitation were rare. The city’s breweries even produced excellent beer.
No, the memories troubled him.
Seb had spent years here with his twin sister Calvia, growing up under the harsh tutelage of their aunt Talmania Scorneus. Of all their aunts, Talmania was not the most powerful, but she was by far the most brilliant. She had been a brutally effective teacher, and Seb had learned a great deal from her. Unfortunately, her brilliance was matched only by her ruthlessness and total lack of conscience. Seb and Calvia had escaped from her, and their aunt Ariadne had finished raising and teaching them.
And, in retribution for that, Talmania had murdered Seb’s wife Katrina.
Seb grimaced and put aside the thought. The civil war between the Empire and the Umbarian Order had ripped House Scorneus right down the middle. Ariadne and some of his aunts had sided with the Emperor. Talmania and Rania and the others had declared their allegiance to the Umbarians. In fact, Talmania and Rania were two of the Order’s five Provosts, the leaders of the Order’s war against the Emperor.
Talmania, in particular, was suited to that role.
There was a reason they called her Talmania Skull-speaker, but never to her face.
Seb guided his wagon around a corner and glanced back to make sure that Caina’s wagon was following suit. She handled the wagon with aplomb, which surprised him. But there were a lot of things about his half-sister that surprised him.
“Troubled?” said Kylon next to him.
“Constantly,” said Seb. “This city is crawling with Umbarian spies, and you, me, and your wife are all wanted by the Order.”
That was part of it. A big part of it, in addition to his dark memories of Vagraastrad.
But it troubled him how much Caina reminded him of Talmania Scorneus.
She was a good actress, and that disturbed him. Caina had changed her voice so thoroughly that if he hadn’t known better, he wouldn’t have recognized it. She changed masks easily and swiftly. Caina had been the calm Arvaltyr who had rallied the people of Kostiv to her, or the lordly noblewoman who had threated Razdan Nagrach, or the patient teacher who taught Sophia Zomanek the Istarish tongue, or the quiet young woman who sat before the campfire, her head resting on Kylon’s shoulder.
Which one was the real woman?
Perhaps this entire thing was one of Talmania’s elaborate games.
No, that was unlikely. No masks or lies or disguises could have saved Caina from the talons and fangs of the mavrokhi, and she had been brave enough to stand before Razdan and lure the boyar to his well-earned death. Nor did she have any of Talmania’s malice, so far as Seb could tell.
Caina had been disturbed to meet him, he knew, disturbed to learn that Laeria Scorneus had other children.
Seb supposed that it was only fair that she unsettled him in turn.
Kylon nodded. “If there are any Umbarian spies, we’ll deal with them.”
“And I am troubled,” said Seb, “since life is exceedingly strange.”
Kylon snorted. “Given that I was transported fifteen hundred miles through unknown sorcery, I won’t argue.”
Seb laughed at that. He did like Kylon of House Kardamnos, he had to admit. The man didn’t have his wife’s subtlety, but he was far from stupid, and he had the grim edge of a veteran warrior. He was a good ally to have in a fight.
Watching him cut down Razdan’s mavrokhi in Kostiv’s main street had been excellent proof of that.
Seb drove through the New City, past the fine houses of the wealthier merchants, and came to Vagraastrad’s dockside district. For summer, fall, and spring, barge traffic flowed up and down the River Kozalin, and teams of rowers and bargemen made good money hauling cargoes. Since the river was currently frozen, the bargemen had returned to their homes until the thaw came. Seb supposed the warehouses of the dockside district were overflowing with goods, the merchants sweating as they thought of lost profits.
Because of the lack of visitors to the city, they got a good price on the inn.
Seb led the others to a place he had stayed before, an inn called the Szlacht’s Sword. Despite its name, Seb was entirely certain that no szlacht in the history of Ulkaar had ever stayed there. It sat overlooking the docks and the nearby warehouses, and in the summer, it stank of fish, but in the winter it smelled only of smoke and cooking food. The innkeeper was a grim-faced retired bargeman named Laskar, and he ran an honest establishment. Seb had stayed at the Szlacht’s Sword before the war between the Emperor and the Order had started, and it was probably the closest thing to a decent inn that he could find in Vagraastrad’s New City.
It was expensive, though. Fortunately, Caina had money, thanks to the jewels they had taken from the undead ardivid north of Kostiv. She paid Laskar, and Seb and Kylon secured their wagons in the inn’s yard and their horses in the stables. Seb took a moment to ask Laskar, his crone of a wife, and their workers about Teodor, but none of them had seen the old man before, and while they knew many women named Svetlana, none of them were Teodor’s daughter.
Seb rejoined Caina, Kylon, and Sophia as they waited in the inn’s yard, Teodor huddled in his cloak and robe near them.
“No luck, I’m afraid,” said Seb. “The Temples next?”
Caina frowned, her blue eyes distant. She tapped her left wrist with her right hand, and Seb knew she was touching the pyrikon bracelet she carried. Sometimes she did that while deep in thought.
“Only some of them,” said Caina. “How many Temples a
re there in Vagraastrad?”
“About twenty, I think,” said Seb. “Scattered throughout the city. Most of them in the New City, but there’s a large one for the nobles in the Old City.”
“We’ll try six of them in the New City,” said Caina, “but no more. Then we’ll take Teodor to the sanitarium. Enough people are looking for us that I don’t want to announce our presence across the city. Two men, a woman, and a girl wandering around Vagraastrad to ask about an old man will draw notice. If we can’t find anyone who knows Teodor at the first six Temples, we’ll just have to take him to the sanitarium.”
“Very well,” said Seb. That seemed a reasonable course of action. “This way.”
###
Caina’s eyes flicked over the streets of Vagraastrad.
She would have preferred to stay at the Szlacht’s Sword. The interior of the inn had been warm, and after days traversing the frozen countryside, warmth sounded wonderful. But she could not in good conscience leave Teodor to fend for himself.
“What’s that building?” said Caina, pointing at a large structure of stone and wood across the street from the Szlacht’s Rest. It looked something like a large barn. “Is that one of the Temples?”
Seb laughed. “It is a temple dedicated to amusement, I’m afraid. Whenever possible, an Ulkaari Temple is a domed building with eight sides. This is a theater.”
Caina blinked. “The Ulkaari put on plays?”
“Of course, my lady,” said Sophia. Caina was surprised at the girl’s sudden excitement. “Even in Kostiv, sometimes groups of traveling players would come to put on shows.”
“They’ll do grisly tales from the life of the Warmaiden for tragedy,” said Seb, “and then a comedy or two to cheer up the audience.”
“I really like the tale of the miller’s journeyman and his wife,” said Sophia. She started to turn a little red, and not from the cold. “Er…though it really isn’t appropriate, of course, for a loremaster of Iramis…”
Caina laughed. “Loremasters of Iramis are allowed to have a sense of humor.” She thought of her friend Annarah, the loremaster who had hidden the relics of Iramis from the malevolence of Grand Master Callatas. Annarah had been soft-spoken and dutiful and solemn, but she had been as excited as a child for the chance to perform in Cronmer’s circus…
“Well, Teodor,” said Seb. “What do you think? Do plays bring back any memories?”
The sight of the theater brought no reaction from Teodor. Perhaps Ulkaari witchfinders were not allowed to enjoy themselves.
“Apparently not,” said Seb. “This way.”
He led the way through the streets of the dockside district and the New City, and Caina noted the details as she followed him. Like Kostiv, the houses of Vagraastrad stood three or four stories tall, with sharply peaked roofs to keep snow from accumulating. The streets were a miserable wash of slush and horse dung, and Caina was grateful she had good boots. Like in Kostiv, the people of Vagraastrad preferred to dress in bright colors. The women wore long dresses of blue or green with close-fitting black sleeves, while the men preferred black trousers, white shirts, and long vests of red or black. Both men and women wore heavy cloaks and coats to keep the cold at bay, along with cylindrical fur hats. Given how cold it had been, Caina wondered if she could buy one of those hats.
There was a current of unease in the city. Caina saw it at once. People spoke to each other in low voices, and they glanced over their shoulders. She noticed that the people of the city avoided alleyways, and stayed together in groups whenever possible.
“Do you see it?” said Caina to Kylon.
“I don’t need to see it,” said Kylon. “I can sense it.”
“People are frightened,” said Sophia. “I can sense it, too.”
“The civil war, perhaps,” said Seb. “The Boyar of Risiviri and the Voivode of Vagraastrad will come to blows sooner or later.”
“Maybe,” said Caina. For all that, she had not seen any preparations for war in the city. Perhaps Gregor Vagastru was mustering his forces at the Voivode’s Castle.
They wound up visiting seven Temples, not six, since a seventh happened to be right in their path. Whatever else could be said about the people of Vagraastrad, they were pious. The city had twenty Temples because it needed twenty Temples, and each one that Caina and the others visited had worshipers praying before the altars. The Temples reminded Caina of the one she had seen in Kostiv. Each one had eight sides, the walls adorned with bright frescoes showing scenes from the life of the Warmaiden or the teachings of the Divine. Behind the Temples were the gardens where the sunstone crystals grew. Seb and Sophia spoke to the Brothers and Sisters tending the Temples, explaining that they had found Teodor wandering the forest and wondering if anyone knew him.
No one did, and Teodor didn’t recognize anything.
They did, however, learn the cause of the fear in the city. It seemed that reveniri had been spotted inside the walls, and had killed a few people traveling alone at night. The Voivode and the Temple had sent patrols into the sewers where the reveniri were thought to be hiding, but so far, the creatures had not been caught. After having fought the reveniri on the road, Caina could understand the fear.
“Well, that was a thorough waste of time,” said Seb.
Caina shrugged. “It was worth the effort. And at least we know why the city is tense. The sanitarium next?”
“This way,” said Seb.
He led the way. Seb seemed to know Vagraastrad well, and while he kept his calm mask in place, Caina suspected that he did not like the city much. Maybe it had bad memories for him. He had said that his aunt Talmania had raised him, and perhaps a great deal of that raising had taken place here.
Caina understood. In the fourteen years since his death, she had never once been back to visit the ruins of the house where her mother had murdered her father. Nor had she returned to Marsis, where Halfdan had been killed, or to New Kyre, where Corvalis had died stopping the Moroaica. She glanced at Kylon, and a twinge of regret went through her heart. She knew her husband had wanted to return home, had refused to accept the Surge’s invitation to return to New Kyre because of her. If the opportunity came for him to go to New Kyre again, would he take it?
If he did, Caina would go with him.
She put aside the thought as Seb and Sophia conducted an impromptu tour of Vagraastrad, with Sophia pointing out Ulkaari customs and architecture and garb, and Seb expounding further. Caina learned a score of new Ulkaari words, most of which had to do with architectural features, clothing, and weather. The Ulkaari had a variety of different words to describe snow. Caina had thought there was only one kind of snow, but evidently, there were numerous different types of thickness and consistency.
She hoped she didn’t experience any more of them firsthand.
They came to another market, larger and richer-looking than the one before the northern gate. It lay before the gate leading to the Old City, and another Sanctuary Stone stood at the heart of the plaza. Caina saw its aura lying over the market in a gentle silver glow, and whether by chance or design, the protective aura blocked off the gate to the Old City. If any undead issued from the Lord’s Castle, they would not be able to pass the gate into the New City. Caina wondered if the reveniri sightings had all been within the Old City, or if any of the creatures had been spotted in the New City.
Though the reveniri that had chased Teodor had come from somewhere.
The shops lining this market looked more prosperous than the ones near the northern gate. A crowd of about a hundred men and women had gathered in the market, and at first, Caina thought they had come to shop.
Then she heard the shouts and wondered if she had just walked into a mob.
“They’re angry,” said Sophia in a quiet voice. “I can sense their rage.”
Seb grunted. “And I can hear it.”
“Let’s wait here,” said Kylon. “I don’t want to walk into a riot. If they come this way, we can retreat into the alleys and
head for the Szlacht’s Sword.”
Caina nodded, glancing back at Teodor, but the old man remained oblivious to the danger.
Then a procession came from the gate to the Old City, and the crowd’s shouts redoubled. Caina thought they were shouting at the Voivode’s men, and given Gregor Vagastru’s reputation, that could be fatal.
Then she saw a dozen men in the brown robes of Brothers of the Temple emerge from the gate.
“False brother!” shouted a woman.
“Hypocrite!” bellowed a man.
The jeers rained down on the Brothers as they crossed the square, their expressions aloof and hard as they tried to ignore the insults and taunts. Despite the shouting, none of the townsmen tried to attack the Brothers. Both Sophia and Seb had said that attacking a Brother or a Sister of the Temple was a heinous crime to the Ulkaari. As Caina watched, she realized that the mob was shouting at one particular Brother and that the other Brothers had formed up around him.
The Brother was a huge man, his belly heavy with fat, his face ruddy and his hair a ragged thatch of yellow-white. He had to be somewhere in his fifties or sixties, and his robe was of finer material than the other Brothers. He also wore a gold chain of office around his neck. If Caina remembered right, that marked him as a High Brother, the chief priest of the Divine in the city.
“They don’t seem to like him very much,” said Kylon.
“They hate him,” said Sophia. She lowered her voice. “A Brother of the Divine should not be so fat. Perhaps he is corrupt. The Warmaiden said that a corrupt priest was like a poisoned meal.”
“Pardon, madam,” said Seb in Ulkaari. Caina turned her head and saw Seb speaking to a middle-aged woman in a dress of red and black, a cloak and a fur hat pulled tight around her.
Ghost in the Glass Page 5
