Ghost in the Winds (Ghost Exile #9) (37 page)

But Kylon guessed there were no more than a thousand of the creatures circling overhead, and after a moment Kylon realized why. 

The djinn were keeping the nagataaru from reaching their victims. 

However they had been summoned, the djinn had delayed the nagataaru. Kylon did not think that would last for long, though. He sensed far more nagataaru overhead than djinn, and more nagataaru poured from the vast plume of shadow rising from the Golden Palace. The djinn of the Court of the Azure Sovereign had given Kylon and the others some time, but not much. 

They had to reach the Golden Palace and kill Callatas before it was too late.

Another wave of winged shadows plummeted from the sky, dropping towards the Prince and his guards. Kylon shouted a warning, but Sulaman’s strange foresight allowed him to move in time, avoiding the slash of black claws as his scimitar carved a line across a creature’s flank. Mazyan leaped to the defense of his Prince, the sword of smokeless flame appearing in his hand as he cut the creature in half. Another creature swooped towards Tanzir, but one of Laertes’s javelins punched through the creature’s left wing, sending the creature crashing to the street. Nasser seized the opening and struck, taking off the creature’s head with a powerful blow from his scimitar. 

Two of the creatures dove towards Kylon, and instead of dodging, he sprinted into their attack, whipping the valikon before him. The nearest winged creature tried to change direction, but it was too late. Kylon’s sword crunched through its ribs and sank into its chest, white fire pouring from the blade to destroy the nagataaru. The second creature landed, spun, and stabbed at Kylon. He ducked, the claws blurring past his head, and brought up his left arm as he drew upon the power of water sorcery. White mist swirled around his forearm and hardened into blue-green glacial ice, and he parried the creature’s next blow with his arm. The force of the impact shattered the icy gauntlet into glittering shards, but Kylon stabbed, the valikon ripping between the creature’s ribs.

The creature collapsed to the ground as the white fire destroyed the nagataaru, the winged shape shrinking to a wraithblood addict’s emaciated form. 

Kylon tugged his sword free from the dead man’s chest and looked around for more foes. The winged shadows of the new humanity circled overhead, the sky itself writhing with the chaos of the battle between the two kingdoms of spirits, but for a brief moment, none of the creatures were nearby. 

They had reached the heart of the Old Quarter. Ahead the Old Bazaar itself opened before them, the booths smashed and corpses lying here and there, the rich shops and halls damaged and torn open. It seemed the winged creatures had already passed through in search of prey. 

A flash of fire on the eastern side of the Old Bazaar caught his attention. 

It seemed there was a fight already underway. 

###

Kalgri crouched on the corner of the merchant hall, gazing into the Old Bazaar. 

She smiled within the shadow-cloak, watching the fight unfold, and the Voice snarled with glee. 

Yes. Any moment now.

###

“Beware,” said Samnirdamnus inside of Caina’s head. “More of them come.” 

The djinni didn’t need to tell her that. Caina had already seen them coming.

Morgant and Annarah stood on either side of her, weapons and spells ready. They had fought their way free from the Alqaarin Harbor and then had dodged into the alleyways and streets of the Alqaarin Quarter, keeping out of sight of the creatures circling overhead. They couldn’t sense Caina, even with Samnirdamnus lodged inside of her head, and Morgant still had his ring, and Annarah shifted her pyrikon back to its chained-bracelet form. Keeping out of sight, they avoided a confrontation with the creatures and made good progress through the maze of the Alqaarin Quarter’s back alleys. 

The Knight of Wind and Air might have been a powerful elemental spirit, but in the end, he was a still a spy, and so was Caina. Best to avoid fighting until they could strike decisively. 

She felt the air around her in a strange, alien away, aware of it as if it was somehow an extension of her own body. She sensed it filling the streets, and the houses and the shops, the currents of wind overhead as the nagataaru battled the djinn, the breath entering and leaving the lungs of Morgant and Annarah. The smokeless fire burned through Caina, and with that fire, she could have commanded the air to make her faster, to lift her aloft, to slow her enemies or even to erupt with the fury of lightning. The smokeless fire itself could come at her call, to shape as she desired.

Samnirdamnus had given full control of his powers to her, to do with as she wished, and Caina found she did not like the sensation at all.

Or maybe she liked it a little too much. She had spent her adult life fighting against sorcerers and worse things, against people and creatures that had this kind of power, and Caina shuddered to think what she might have done if Samnirdamnus had possessed her when she was younger. She might have gone on a rampage, killing the magi of the Magisterium and anyone else she deemed worthy of death. 

No one ought to have this kind of power.

“Do you see now,” murmured Samnirdamnus, “why you were the one I sought?”

Caina shook her head, focusing on the descending winged creatures.

Samnirdamnus might have possessed power, but so did the creatures. 

A dozen of them landed in the street ahead, blocking the way forward. Their purple-burning eyes fixed upon Caina, their clawed fingers flexing. She wondered why they simply didn’t attack. They couldn’t sense Samnirdamnus, not while he was inside her head, but they could see the fire burning in her eyes and veins, and the nagataaru would recognize the threat. 

“Why don’t they attack?” said Annarah. 

“Most likely,” said Morgant, “they’re afraid of us, and so are distracting us while an attack comes from another direction.”

“From above,” said Caina, lifting her face to the sky. “No one ever looks up.” 

And just as she had guessed, a dozen more creatures appeared overhead, their wings folding as they plummeted towards the street.

Morgant dodged to the side, and Annarah cast a spell, her pyrikon unfolding into a slender bronze staff once more, and in that instant, Caina called to the wind.

Once more, the wind answered. 

A gust of wind howled through the street, slamming into the descending creatures. The wind threw them off course, flinging some of the creatures into the walls of the surrounding houses, while others struck the street. Morgant stepped smoothly into their distraction, crimson scimitar and black dagger flashing. Annarah hit another creature with a shaft of white fire, and Morgant attacked the staggered creature, killing it with a swift stab of his scimitar. 

Caina called to the wind again, drawing her valikon, and she moved, the valikon trailing white fire from her fist.

The wind moved with her. 

It was a strange sensation. She sped up as the wind drove her forward, but the rest of the world seemed to slow down. Samnirdamnus was altering her senses, slowing her perception of time as he had done previously when speaking with her. Caina wondered about the physical cost of that, wondered if a blood vessel would burst in her brain as when she had fought Callatas in the netherworld. 

But for now, there was no time to worry about the future.

Caina shot into the creatures, stepping past their claws and fangs with ease, the valikon flashing back and forth in her grasp. She killed five of them in rapid succession, stabbing some through the heart and cutting others across the throat. The creatures reacted to the new threat, turning to encircle her, and Caina jumped. The wind carried her out of the encircling ring, and she kicked off the wall of a nearby house, spun, and came hammering down. 

The valikon sliced through the neck of a creature, white fire destroying the nagataaru, but Caina lost her grip on the weapon and stumbled, staggering as the creatures pursued her.

“The smokeless fire!” said Samnirdamnus. “The smokeless fire of the djinn shall also come at your call!” 

She remembered Mazyan’s sword of fire, Kalgri’s blade of dark force, and held out her right hand.

A scimitar of smokeless flame appeared in her right fist, throwing off a harsh light. That was well and good, but Caina had never been good with long blades, and…

As if in response to her thought, the scimitar of smokeless flame shrank, and became a throwing knife.

A tight smile went over Caina’s face. That was more like it. 

She might not have been very skilled with a sword, but she much more practice with throwing knives, and she flung the blade of smokeless flame at the nearest winged creature. Caina expected the thrown blade to bite into the creature, sinking into its throat.

She did not expect it to burn a smoking hole through one side of its neck and out the other, causing it to collapse dead to the street. 

“Ah,” said Samnirdamnus. “I did not expect that.”

Caina leaped back as the creatures pursued her, the wind carrying her a dozen yards, held out her hand, and called another throwing knife of smokeless flame into existence. She flung the weapon, and it burned a hole through the chest of the nearest creature. Caina killed four more creatures in as many heartbeats, and Morgant attacked, while Annarah cast spell after spell, her pyrikon blazing. After Caina had killed fifteen of the creatures with knives of smokeless flame, the survivors retreated, taking to the air and scattering. Likely they had gone to gather reinforcements.

“Nice trick with the burning knives,” said Morgant, lowering his weapons as Caina retrieved her valikon. “The next time I need to open a cask of wine, I’ll just have you do it.”

“Thanks,” said Caina in a flat voice, looking at the dead wraithblood addicts she had left scattered around the street. Again she felt a flicker of guilt. Most of them would have been harmless, but Callatas had addicted them to wraithblood, and Callatas had summoned the nagataaru within their flesh. 

And he had driven them to their deaths at Caina’s hands.

“That is what Callatas will work,” said Samnirdamnus. “Even if he knows it not. A world of the dead, empty save for ruins. More than these men will die if you do not stop him.”

Caina looked up from the dead and forced aside her roiling emotions. 

They had reached the Old Bazaar at the heart of the Old Quarter, a vast square ringed by shops and merchant halls. The booths and stalls of the Bazaar had been smashed by the fighting, and she saw the bodies of robed merchants scattered across the ground, likely killed by the winged creatures. At the southern end of the Bazaar stood a mass of men, both Kaltari warriors, and Imperial Guards. Caina blinked in surprise. Imperial Guards? Did that mean Claudia and Martin had escaped? Callatas and Erghulan would have tried to kill them at once…

And with a sudden shock, she saw Kylon staring at her. 

He stood next to a broken booth a few hundred yards away, the valikon that the Emissary had given Caina burning like a torch of white fire in his right hand. The light from the sword threw harsh shadows on his face, marked the blood and sweat and grime upon his features and his arms, though most of the blood didn’t look as if it had come from him. 

A little cry escaped Caina’s lips before she could stop herself, and she started towards him, her fear and her rage and even Samnirdamnus temporarily forgotten. Gods, gods, but he was alive and unhurt. He wasn’t safe, for no one in Istarinmul was safe, but he was still alive and uninjured and that made everything that had happened over the last few weeks endurable.

He began to smile, and Caina broke into a run.

Then his eyes widened in alarm, the valikon coming up, and he sprinted towards her.

###

Kalgri laughed in silence, watching the scene below.

It was perfect. It was just too perfect. 

Kalgri had waited atop the corner of the merchant’s hall, watching the battle between the Prince’s men and the new humanity, and Kylon of House Kardamnos had come into sight, wielding his valikon with his usual skill. Of course, with the new strength Kalgri could draw from the Voice, she need no longer fear Kylon’s prowess. 

Still, that was no reason to put herself at risk, so she watched the battle. The Kaltari warriors and the Imperial Guards drove forward, aided by the vexing Nasser Glasshand and the spells of Claudia Aberon Dorius. Kylon was the most effective of them, the valikon and his sorcery letting him cut down creature after creature. 

But that moved him away from the others, and soon he was isolated in the heart of the Bazaar. Kalgri considered surprising him and cutting him down. If she struck fast enough, she could kill him before anyone else interfered, and when it came time to kill Caina, it would be easier without Kylon protecting her.

It would also be far more enjoyable, especially if Kalgri could throw Kylon’s death into Caina’s face. 

Then Caina ran into the Old Bazaar. It seemed the addition of a djinni’s power had made her a far more effective fighter, and she hurled knives wrought of smokeless fire, cutting down the hybrid creatures right and left.

The Balarigar saw the stormdancer, and for a moment the two of them froze, staring at each other. Caina started towards Kylon, slowly at first, and then breaking into a run. 

Her path would take her right beneath Kalgri’s hiding place. 

Sometimes, despite all her planning and caution, sometimes a wonderful opportunity fell into her lap, and this was it. Kalgri could leap from the rooftop and stab Caina from behind before the Balarigar or her pet stormdancer realized what was happening. 

It looked like Kylon would get to see another woman he loved die right in front of him. 

Kalgri’s legs tensed, the shadow-cloak stirring around her, and she prepared to spring.

###

For an instant, Kylon forgot the battle, forgot the creatures overhead, forgot the Grand Master and the Apotheosis, forgot everything. 

Caina was alive.