Ghost in the Winds (Ghost Exile #9) (17 page)

“That’s true,” said Morgant. He beckoned, and he and Annarah wrestled one of the amphorae from the rack. “Given your history of setting things on fire, it seems prudent to take every possible precaution. I would prefer not to burn with Pyramid Isle if you accidentally blow up the island.”

“I haven’t burned down that many buildings,” said Caina.

Both Annarah and Morgant blinked at her, the amphorae gripped between them.

Caina sighed. “Never mind. Follow me.” 

Together they lugged the machine and the Hellfire amphora into the throne room. Morgant and Annarah set the amphora on the dais before the empty throne, and Caina stepped towards the dais. As she did, she felt the aura of the machine shift, the pale blue color of the wards intensifying.

It was reacting to the power of the Hellfire.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” said Annarah.

“Not at all,” said Caina, standing over the amphora. “You…might want to stand back.” 

The amphora’s mouth was closed with an ancient wax seal. Caina lifted the machine, lining it up with the amphora’s mouth, and pushed it onto the top of the container. As she did, the machine came to life. She felt the needle jab down, stabbing through the seal, while the metal arms gripped the edge of the amphora. The spells on the machine intensified, melding with the aura of the Hellfire. 

Then nothing else happened. 

Annarah cast a spell. “I…don’t think it’s going to explode. The aura doesn’t seem right for it.”

“No,” said Caina, walking in a circle around the amphora, watching it with the vision of the valikarion. The Hellfire within the amphora seemed…excited, somehow. It reminded her of a loaded crossbow, the tension of the string awaiting only the pull of the trigger. 

So what was it waiting for?

“It’s not going to explode,” said Morgant. “Excellent. So are we supposed to do with it?” 

“I’m not sure,” said Caina, giving the machine a tentative tap with her finger. The power of the sorcery in the thing made her skin crawl, painful tingles shooting up and down her arm. There was something that looked like a trigger on the side, and it reminded her again of the crossbow. She tugged at the trigger. “Maybe…”

A loud click came from the device, and the amphora shuddered. 

“Down!” shouted Morgant, Annarah already diving toward the floor. 

Caina followed suit. An instant later a spray of Hellfire droplets erupted from the end of the truncated cone and shot into the air. For a horrified moment, Caina was sure that the droplets would fall upon them like rain, but the droplets were so fine that the hovered in the air like a gentle mist.

Then they ignited, forming a cone of howling flame above the machine. The heat of it hammered at Caina, and she threw an arm over her face to shield herself from the searing heat. The flames vanished as the Hellfire burned out, and Caina lowered her arm, blinking.

“Is anyone hurt?” she said.

“I’m fine,” said Annarah, getting to her feet. 

“Good,” said Caina, standing as Morgant rose. She took a deep breath, the air filled with the peculiar harsh ozone scent of ignited Hellfire. “That…might have been stupid on my part.”

“Might have been?” said Morgant.

“We’re still alive,” said Caina, crossing back to the machine and the amphora. 

“I can see how that would make an effective weapon of war,” said Annarah. “The droplets are fine enough that the machine sprays them away from its user.”

“So as your enemies don’t stand upwind,” said Morgant. 

“By the Divine, what a dreadful thought,” said Annarah. “Though Hellfire is a dreadful weapon. I wish the Alchemists had not devised it.”

“You’re right,” said Caina, looking at the handles on the side of the amphora. They looked solid enough, and the amphora probably held between seven to ten gallons of Hellfire. She and Morgant ought to be able to carry the thing between them. “Fortunately, we won’t be using it against living foes.”

“You think we can use it against the undead warriors?” said Annarah.

“I’m certain,” said Caina. “You saw how quickly those undead baboons burned when Nasser and Laertes set them on fire. The undead warriors might have wards that let them see us, but they don’t have anything to protect themselves from Hellfire. So we’ll burn a path right through them, march through the jungle, and get back to Murat’s ship.”

“Or we’ll set ourselves on fire in the process,” said Morgant.

“Maybe,” said Caina. “Do you have any better ideas?”

Morgant sighed. “Do you want the left side or the right?”

“Right,” said Caina. “The trigger is on that side. Annarah. Stay behind us. Be ready to cast wards to protect us against Hellfire or to attack the nagataaru.”

“The Hellfire amphora,” said Annarah as Morgant grasped the left handle and Caina took the right. “Will the nagataaru be able to sense it?”

“Maybe,” said Caina, remembering the tests she had done with Kylon as they traveled north from Drynemet, examining the limits of her valikarion abilities. “When I carried Morgant’s scimitar, Kylon couldn’t sense it, and you couldn’t detect it with your Words of Lore. I’m hoping they can’t sense the Hellfire while a valikarion is carrying it.”

“Test it now,” said Morgant. 

Annarah gestured with her free hand again, more white light flashing around her fingers. “I can’t sense the Hellfire while you’re carrying it.”

“Good,” said Caina. “Let’s give the nagataaru a surprise.”

With Morgant’s help, Caina carried the amphora back to the corridor, Annarah following after them. The amphora was heavy, but Caina and Morgant managed it between them, though it was unwieldy. Because of that, getting from the throne room to the entry hall took three times as long as it had the last time. Again and again, they had to backtrack to avoid patrols of baboons, and twice they had to wait against the wall until a band of undead passed. 

Step by step they advanced, and at last they reached the chamber before the entry hall, the purple fire in the warriors’ eyes shining in the distance. Caina did not know how far the spells upon the warriors’ helmets permitted them to see, but she suspected they could see in the dark without much trouble. 

“What now?” said Morgant, grimacing as he adjusted his grip. 

“The archway,” said Caina. “That will make a bottleneck. We’ll try to spray the Hellfire there. Annarah, when I give the word, release your pyrikon and attack. That will draw the nagataaru towards us…”

“And we’ll set them on fire,” said Morgant.

“That’s the plan,” said Caina.

“Let’s hope it works,” said Morgant. “Ready when you are.”

Caina took a deep breath, memories of her past tasks for the Ghosts flashing through her mind. In Rasadda, she had fought a mad pyromancer, a fool who had thought to claim the powers of the ancient Ashbringers for himself. She had seen the corpses he had left in his wake, living men reduced to twisted, blackened husks…and Hellfire was far more potent.

Would that be the fate of Caina and Morgant and Annarah? 

At least it would be a quicker death than starvation and thirst. 

“Annarah,” said Caina, resting one of her hands on the machine’s trigger. “Now.”

Annarah nodded, stepped back, and held out her right hand. Her pyrikon unfolded from her fingers and wrist, lengthening into a bronze staff that shimmered with white fire. At once the nagataaru warriors within the entrance hall reacted, moving forward with a slow, steady stride.

Caina pulled the trigger, and the machine and its attached amphora shivered beneath her grip. A fine spray of Hellfire droplets burst from the end of the device in a red cone, shooting into the archway and into the charging undead warriors.

An instant later the Hellfire ignited, and so did the first rank of the undead. 

A howling wall of crimson flames erupted from the floor and the charging undead, so hot that it felt as if Caina stood in front of a blacksmith’s fire. The undead warriors simply fell apart, and Caina pulled the trigger again. She feared the fire might ignite the Hellfire inside the amphora, but the machine was too well designed for that. The fire transformed the spray of Hellfire into a howling jet of flame, and it drilled into the advancing undead, destroying them as they tried to charge through the archway. One of the warriors managed to get past the flame, and Annarah destroyed it with a quick burst of white fire from her staff. 

“Morgant!” shouted Caina. “Side to side!” He nodded, and together they swept the amphora from side to side, swinging the jet of fire back and forth. It scoured the entry hall like a whip of living fire, a whip that cut down the undead warriors as they advanced. In a few moments, the entry hall had transformed into a carpet of fire, red light blazing in all directions. Nothing alive could have survived in there, and Caina doubted that even the undead warriors could have managed it.

“Behind you!” shouted Morgant.

Caina twisted her head to the side and saw a mob of undead baboons charging down the corridor towards them, at least a score of the creatures. Annarah whirled and began casting spells, a burst of white fire cutting down four of the creatures as she swept her staff before her. Yet there were too many of the undead baboons, and Annarah could not get them all before they killed her.

“Down!” said Caina, and together she and Morgant set down the amphora as gently as they could manage. Before the amphora had even settled Morgant yanked his scimitar and black dagger from their sheaths and charged, the tail of his black coat flying around him. Caina released her handle on the amphora and drew the valikon in a flash of white light, the Iramisian sigils upon the blade burning with white fire.

The undead baboons converged upon Annarah in a tide of leathery flesh and brittle fur and yellow fangs, even as she struck again and again in bursts of white fire. The nagataaru could sense her, and therefore they focused upon her, but they could not see Caina and Morgant. Morgant scythed through the undead, scimitar and dagger flashing. He was a master swordsman, but he hardly needed his skill as he chopped through the baboons, his dagger slicing them apart while his scimitar blocked their clumsy attempts to find their invisible foe. 

Caina wielded her valikon with less skill than the old assassin, but with the power of the weapon, she hardly needed skill. Either the ghostsilver blade shattered the spells upon the undead baboons, collapsing them to the floor, or the power of the valikon ripped apart the nagataaru within them. Annarah shouted something in the Iramisian tongue, and a snarling halo of white fire sheathed her, driving back the baboons as they tried to approach. As they recoiled, Caina and Morgant attacked, cutting down the nagataaru. 

She struck down another nagataaru and turned, seeking more foes, but for a moment the area around her was clear. Another mob of baboons raced down the corridor, claws clacking against the stone floor. Caina started to head towards them, but Morgant drew back his arm, the blade of his black dagger grasped in his fingers. His arm snapped forward, hurtling the weapon forward, and the black dagger buried itself in the stone floor before the charging baboons. 

An instant later the dagger released its stored heat in a snarling fireball that filled up the corridor. The fire wasn’t nearly as intense as the inferno unleashed by the fireball, but it was more than hot enough to set the undead baboons aflame. Many of them collapsed into smoking piles of coals, but some broke free of the fire. 

“Don’t let them get near the Hellfire!” shouted Caina. If one of the burning baboons knocked over the Hellfire amphora and broke it, they would all die a few seconds later. 

Annarah destroyed a baboon with a shaft of white fire. Morgant cut down two more as they staggered forward, and Caina took the head from another with a two-handed swing of the valikon, similar to a move she had seen Kylon use several times. Of course, she wasn’t nearly as strong as Kylon, but the valikon was effective. The undead baboon collapsed, and Caina turned, looking for her next enemy, her heart hammering in her temples. 

But for the moment, there were no enemies coming down the corridor. She turned and looked into the entry hall. Patches of Hellfire still burned here and there, the floor between them a cracked and smoking ruin, but all of the undead warriors had been destroyed. For the moment, the way was clear. 

“Caina?” said Annarah, lowering her staff as white fire burned up and down its bronze length.

“Morgant,” said Caina, sheathing the valikon. “We need to make a run for it. Get the amphora.”

Morgant retrieved his dagger, sheathed his weapons, and grabbed one of the amphora’s handles, and Caina seized the other one.

“Don’t drop the damned thing,” said Morgant, glancing towards the fires still burning in the entry hall. “If it leaks into the fires…”

“Yes, yes, we’re all dead,” said Caina, grunting as she hefted the amphora. It hadn’t gotten much lighter despite all the Hellfire they had sprayed into the entry hall. “What else is new?”

Together they hauled the amphora and its attached machine into the entry hall. It was damnably hot, so hot the air near the walls was rippling. Caina heard a faint hissing sound and realized that the leather of her boots was smoking against the overheated stone floor. Here and there she saw twisted, half-melted pieces of bronze, all that remained of the armor and weapons of the undead warriors. Only glowing ashes and smoldering coals remained of the undead corpses themselves.

Morgant let out a harsh laugh, coughing a little in the fumes. 

“What?” said Caina. 

“Don’t step there,” Morgant said, pointing at a gleaming puddle on the floor. Caina realized that it was melted silver, dribbled from the hieroglyphs on the ceiling. She made sure to step around it. 

“What’s funny?” said Caina.

“I wanted to carve that silver out of the ceiling to sell it,” said Morgant. “Turns out I just had to spray it with enough Hellfire to melt the damned stuff. Then I can just scrape it off the floor to sell it.”

Caina croaked out a laugh. “See? We should have thought of that the last time. Saved ourselves all kinds of trouble if we just burned the damned place down.”