Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 05 - Ghost in the Stone (20 page)

He saw her looking and raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Corvalis. “I’m not going to ravage you. Gods know if I tried I would end up with a dagger in my gullet. I just want a shirt that’s not drenched in my own poisons.”

Caina decided to change the subject

“How,” she said, “did Ranarius end up in Cyrioch?”

“A reward,” said Corvalis. He retrieved a shirt from one of the chests. “My father is a tyrant, but he rewards loyalty well. After Ranarius turned a few of the First Magus’s enemies to stone, my father appointed him the preceptor of Cyrica Urbana. So I followed him here.” 

Caina nodded. “So did you follow him here to kill him…or to find a way to restore your sister?”

“The latter,” said Corvalis. “I traced him here, and I have been trying to find a way to capture and overpower him. If his life is at stake, I can force him to reverse the spell he placed upon Claudia.”

“That may be more difficult than you think,” said Caina.

“Oh?” said Corvalis. He picked up his sword belt. “I am trying to abduct a master magus and force him to reverse a spell the Magisterium claims doesn’t actually exist. How could it get any more difficult?”

“I know how Ranarius is turning those people to stone,” said Caina.

Corvalis turned so fast that Caina barely followed the movement. “How? How is he doing it? Tell me.” 

“That would depend,” said Caina.

“Depend? On what?” said Corvalis. “For the gods’ sake, tell me. I have traveled across half the Empire and risked death time and time again to save my sister.” 

“It depends,” said Caina, “on whether or not you are willing to help me.”

“Help you to do what?” said Corvalis. “Do you want me to murder someone? Is that it? A life in exchange for the secret that will save my sister?” His face twisted with disgust. “Are you Ghosts any better than the Kindred? I have put myself at risk over and over for her. And why are you putting yourself at risk, Ghost? For power? Glory? Wealth?”

“I know what it is,” said Caina, voice quiet, “to love someone and lose them.”

She thought of her father, sitting glassy-eyed in his chair. 

Corvalis’s anger drained away, and he sat on the bed with a sigh.

“Perhaps you do,” said Corvalis. “Everyone loses someone they love, eventually. Except my father. He loves nothing but his own power.” He sighed. “So. What do you want of me?”

“Your help against the Kindred,” said Caina.

Corvalis said nothing, his green eyes measuring her. 

“The Kindred are trying to kill both Lord Corbould, Lord Khosrau, and Lord Armizid,” said Caina. “I don’t know who hired them, but what they’re trying to accomplish is plain.” 

“A war between Cyrica and the Empire,” said Corvalis. “Any idiot can see that.” 

“I’ve come to Cyrioch to make sure that doesn’t happen,” said Caina. “We’ve stopped three assassination attempts against Khosrau and Corbould…”

Corvalis leaned forward. “Three? You’re sure of that?” 

Caina nodded. “Once at the Amphitheatre of Asurius. Again at the Palace of Splendors and the Gallery of the Well, when we fought Sicarion. And yesterday at the Ring of Valor. Three times. But we can’t keep doing that. Sooner or later the Kindred will be successful, and the war with New Kyre and Istarinmul will widen. We have to find whoever hired the Kindred.”

“And you want my help,” said Corvalis, “to do it.”

“Aye,” said Caina. “You used to be Kindred. You know how they operate.” She took a deep breath. “And if you help us…I will help you against Ranarius. I swear it.”

Corvalis raised an eyebrow. “What do you know about fighting sorcerers?”

“This and that,” said Caina, thinking of Maglarion and Jadriga and Kalastus and all the others. 

“How can I trust you?” said Corvalis. He gave a thin smile. “The Ghosts…have something of a reputation for underhanded dealings.”

“And the Kindred do not?” said Caina.

“I am no longer Kindred.”

He had a point.

“Very well,” said Caina. “Ranarius used an elemental spirit of earth to turn your sister into stone.” 

Corvalis frowned. “A…spirit? Gods. I never considered that. I suppose I should have. I spent enough time learning to fight spirits from the Ulkaari.” He stared at her for a moment. “How do you know this?”

“I spoke with a renegade Anshani occultist,” said Caina. “She senses the spirit’s presence in the netherworld, and claims to feel a sort of…echo every time it turns someone to stone.”

“That makes sense,” said Corvalis. “My father told me that during the Fourth Empire, when the magi ruled instead of the Emperor, the Magisterium knew how to summon elemental spirits. The knowledge was lost in the destruction of Caer Magia.” He rubbed his jaw, thinking. “But if anyone could figure out how to do it, Ranarius could. The man has a heart made of ice, but he is brilliant.” 

Caina remembered the blindfold around Nicasia’s eyes and the collar around her neck. “Aye.” 

“It does make things trickier,” said Corvalis. “If I kill Ranarius, it could break his binding over the spirit. It might go berserk, or simply return to the netherworld. Spirits do not think in terms of mortal logic.”

“You shouldn’t kill Ranarius anyway,” said Caina. “Capture him and force him to change your sister back, along with all the other Ghosts. Then you can kill him.”

Corvalis frowned. “You’ll help me with this? You and the other Ghosts?”

“We will,” said Caina, “if you help us against the Kindred.” She paused. “By helping us, you may be helping yourself. The occultist thinks that the Kindred assassins and the statues are connected. Which means Ranarius and the Kindred are connected.” 

He didn’t laugh at the idea. “I know a sorcerer with ties to the netherworld can sometimes see potential futures. From what I understand, all mortals cast…shadows, of a sort, into the netherworld. And some shadows are larger and blacker than others.” 

“Do you think Ranarius hired the Kindred to kill Khosrau and Corbould?” said Caina. 

“It’s possible,” said Corvalis, “but I doubt he would bother. Ranarius is not interested in political power, not the way my father is. I suspect he became preceptor so he could use the Cyrioch chapterhouse’s resources to fund his experiments. Before that, he used the slave trade to raise money.” His mouth twisted. “Summoning elemental spirits must require expensive equipment. But he wouldn’t gain anything if Cyrica rebelled against the Empire.”  

“Then we have an agreement?” said Caina. “You’ll help us against the Kindred? And in exchange, we’ll help you with Ranarius?” 

“Agreed,” said Corvalis. He held out his hand, and Caina gripped it. His hand was strong, fingers hard with calluses from sword and spear. “You are going to need my help. The Kindred will stop playing games and come for Lord Corbould and Lord Khosrau in force.”

“What do you mean?” said Caina.

“You said the Kindred of Cyrioch tried to kill them three times,” said Corvalis, releasing her hand and holding up a finger. “Once at the Amphitheatre, once at the Gallery of the Well, and once at the Ring of Valor. The Kindred send out lower-ranking assassins first. But if they fail, the higher-ranking assassins are sent instead, and they are far more dangerous.” 

“Tomorrow,” said Caina. “Lord Corbould is sponsoring chariot races in Khosrau’s and Armizid’s honor.”

Corvalis nodded. “It is easier to kill someone in public and make an escape. The Kindred will almost certainly try to kill the nobles there.”

“Then we had better get moving,” said Caina.

She turned towards the door, Corvalis following.

“Ghost,” said Corvalis, voice quiet.

She turned. Corvalis stood in the dim light coming through the narrow window, so motionless he seemed a statue himself. 

“Thank you,” he said, “for my life. I was certain you would pursue Sicarion and leave me to my fate.” 

“I don’t like Sicarion,” said Caina, “but I like watching his victims die even less. And you did save my life, almost at the cost of your own.”

Corvalis snorted. “The spell hurt, but I was in no danger. The damned poison on Sicarion’s dagger almost finished me.”

“The debts between us are settled,” said Caina, “and we can work together to stop the assassins and free your sister.”

“Agreed,” said Corvalis, and they left the apartment.

###

A short time later Caina and Corvalis slipped into Theodosia’s suite at the Inn of the Defender. 

“Well,” said Theodosia, looking up from the table as they entered. “I see you’ve found a friend.” 

“The opera singer?” said Corvalis, glancing at Caina. “Your circlemaster is Khosrau’s favorite opera singer?”

Theodosia raised an eyebrow. “Does that surprise you?” 

Corvalis laughed. “The Magisterium lives in terror of the Ghosts. They see Ghosts in every shadow. Every accident gets blamed on the Ghosts. They think the Ghost circlemasters are lords of the shadows, stealthy assassins who make the Kindred look like bumbling children.” He shook his head. “Instead, the Ghosts of Cyrioch are an opera singer and her pretty maid.” 

Theodosia smiled, showing her teeth. “Isn’t that sweet, Marina? He thinks you’re pretty.” 

Corvalis glanced at Caina. “Gods. Don’t tell me you’re actually a man.”

“No,” said Caina.

“Nor am I,” said Theodosia, “but you did not call me pretty.”

Corvalis made a sardonic bow. “I apologize, my lady. I was struck dumb by the august majesty of your presence, and my wits scattered and left my tongue adrift. Your beauty is matched only by your venerable wisdom.”

“Venerable?” said Theodosia. “What a dreadful thing to call a woman. But one cannot expect a silver tongue in a Kindred assassin.”

“Former Kindred assassin,” said Corvalis.

“Perhaps,” said Theodosia. “I like young men with fire. But Marina did not bring you here to banter with me, however much we might enjoy it. I assume you are here to offer us something? I do find you handsome, in an austere sort of way, and it would be a dreadful pity if I had to order you killed.” 

“Marina proposed an alliance,” said Corvalis. “Ranarius is turning your Ghosts to stone, but he started with my sister. The Kindred are trying to kill your Emperor’s nobles, and I know how the Kindred operate. We can help each other.”  

Theodosia looked at Caina.

“I think,” said Caina, “that we can trust him.” 

Again Theodosia raised her eyebrow.

“He doesn’t want money or power,” said Caina. “He just wants to save his sister. And he can’t do that by himself. So he needs our help. And he hates the Magisterium more than I do.”

“That must,” said Theodosia, voice quiet, “be a mighty hatred indeed.” 

“It is,” said Corvalis.

“All right,” said Theodosia, and she lifted her hands from beneath the table. In them she held a small hand crossbow, the dart’s tip gleaming with poison. Theodosia must have been holding it at Corvalis the entire time.

“I see I owe you my life again,” said Corvalis. 

“I suppose it would be beneath the dignity of a woman of my august venerability to kill you myself,” said Theodosia, “but Marina vouched for you, and that is good enough for me. Tell me how you can aid us against the Kindred.”

“They will try to kill Corbould and Khosrau at the hippodrome tomorrow,” said Corvalis. “Three times they sent lower-ranking assassins against you, and three times you stopped them. Tomorrow they will send out higher-ranking assassins.” He smiled. “And I will show you how to stop them.”

“You’re going to get killed wearing that,” said Caina. 

“Everyone dies,” said Corvalis with a shrug. “If I am to meet my death today, I may as well do it wearing fine clothing.”

They stood in the sitting room of Theodosia’s suite. Corvalis wore the fine blue robe and cap of a master merchant from the Imperial collegium of grain traders. A gold badge glittered on his cap, and a leather belt went around his waist, supporting a sheathed short sword and dagger that looked purely ornamental. 

Unlike most grain merchants, he managed to look good in the robe. And it was loose enough that Caina knew he had a number of daggers and knives hidden beneath it, and perhaps a longer sword strapped to his thigh. 

“I suppose it makes sense,” said Caina. She wore a blue gown with black trim, the sort the wife of a prosperous merchant might wear. She put a blue scarf over her hair in deference to Cyrican customs, and chose only silver jewelry, since gold would be too ostentatious for a merchant’s wife.

“The Kindred must have figured out that there are Ghosts among Corbould’s retinue,” said Corvalis, adjusting one of his cuffs. “You told me they tried to kill the circlemaster of Cyrioch. So they’ll watch the opera company and Corbould’s men for any Ghosts. They won’t expect someone from the crowd to stop them.” 

“They will assume the Ghosts infiltrated the grain traders’ collegium,” said Caina, examining herself in the room’s mirror. In the blue gown, with her hair concealed beneath the scarf, she looked nothing like Marina, Theodosia’s servant, or Maric, Theodosia’s bodyguard, and she certainly did not look like a Sarbian mercenary. Anyone seeing her would assume that she was the pretty young wife of a prosperous grain merchant…

Unless someone looked too long into her eyes. 

“Of course the Ghosts have infiltrated the collegium,” said Corvalis. “I would have been surprised if you had not. But Cyrica ships thousands of tons of grain across the sea every year, and grain merchants are a common sight here. The Kindred are ready for trouble…but they’ll expect the trouble to come from Corbould’s servants or the opera company. Not from a grain merchant and his wife.” 

He had a point. But Caina would have preferred to remain disguised as a servant. A servant running through a crowd drew no attention. A merchant’s wife, on the other hand…

She shook her head. Corvalis’s plan was the best chance they had to capture a high-ranking Kindred assassin. 

“It’s time,” said Caina. “Let’s go.”

“As you command, wife,” said Corvalis.

“For a renegade assassin,” said Caina, “you certainly have an arch sense of humor.”

Corvalis smirked. Caina rolled her eyes and followed him from the Inn.