Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 05 - Ghost in the Stone (34 page)

“Corvalis,” said Caina. “Corvalis!”

She heard him groan in response. Gods, how she wanted to open her eyes and look at him.

“Corvalis!” she said again.

“Marina?” said Corvalis, his voice thick. “What…”

“Don’t open your eyes,” said Caina.

“Why? What…”

“Listen to me!” said Caina. “Don’t open your eyes. The earth elemental is possessing Nicasia. If she looks into your eyes, she’ll turn you into a statue. That’s how Ranarius has been doing it. He’s been using Nicasia.”

“No one ever suspects a timid slave girl,” said Nicasia. “That’s what the master always says.” 

There was a long pause.

“Where are we?” said Corvalis at last. 

“A storeroom in the Palace, I think,” said Caina. “Ranarius overpowered us and took us here. Corvalis, the Stone itself is the greater earth elemental.”

“It is my liege,” rumbled the Defender.

“What the devil was that?” said Corvalis, and she heard him struggling against the ropes. 

“The Defender,” said Caina, “the earth elemental inside Nicasia.”

“Then you turned my sister to stone?” said Corvalis. 

“As I was bound to do,” said the Defender.

“Can you change her back?” said Corvalis, desperate hope in his voice. “Can you turn her back to living flesh?”

There was a long pause. 

“He looks so sad,” said Nicasia. “Doesn’t he look sad?” 

“The effect will wear off in four or five centuries,” said the Defender. “But I could restore her. The master explicitly commanded me not to do so, though.”

“Then you will not have a master soon,” said Corvalis. 

“Unlikely,” said the Defender, “since you cannot even untie yourself.” 

“Corvalis,” said Caina. “So long as we keep our eyes closed and don’t touch Nicasia, the elemental won’t harm us. Can you get loose?”

“I’m trying,” said Corvalis. “The wall is rough enough that I might be able to saw through the rope. But it will take a while.” 

“We might not have that kind of time,” said Caina. “Ranarius is going to start awakening the greater earth elemental any moment. And if he does, he’s going to destroy Cyrioch.”

Corvalis grunted. “If I can just get to the dagger in my boot…”

The grating shriek of rusty hinges cut off his words.

Someone had opened the door to the storeroom. 

A moment later a rough voice laughed.

Caina stiffened. She knew that voice.

Sicarion. 

“Who are you?” said Nicasia. “I don’t like you. I think you’re a bad man.”

Again Sicarion laughed. “You are correct. I am indeed a very bad man. In fact, my dear, I may be the worst man you have ever met.”

“The patchwork assassin,” said the Defender. “What a curious aura you have. Like a sculpture fashioned from carrion.” 

“True,” said Sicarion. “And you would like to turn me to a sculpture, wouldn’t you? But so long as I don’t touch you, you won’t attack me.”

“Maybe I don’t like you,” said Nicasia. “You are a bad man. And you’ll have to open your eyes sooner or later.”

“Again, true,” said Sicarion. “But there are senses other than the physical, are there not?”

Caina heard him stop a few paces away. It took every bit of willpower she had not to open her eyes, and she strained against the rope, hoping to scrape through it. But it was no use.

Sicarion would kill both her and Corvalis long before she broke free. 

“Mistress,” he said. “You seem to be in some trouble.” 

“Which pleases you to no end, I’m sure,” said Corvalis. “I suppose Ranarius gave us to you as a gift.”

“As much as it would delight me to cut the tongue from your mouth,” said Sicarion, “I have other business. I am here to kill Ranarius.” 

“He’s the reason you came to Cyrioch,” said Caina. “The disciple of the Moroaica you came to kill.”

“Correct,” said Sicarion. “The Moroaica does not tolerate disloyalty in her disciples, and Ranarius has been exceptionally disloyal.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t side with him,” said Caina. “He’s going to kill a lot of people.”

“Yes,” said Sicarion, and Caina could imagine the smile on his face. “But the Moroaica will kill many more, once she is free.” 

“And that’s why the Moroaica sent you to kill him,” said Caina. “Because she knew he was going to become a threat to her.” 

“So why are you here?” said Corvalis. “The Moroaica wants you to kill Ranarius, so go kill him. Or did you decide to kill us first?”

Sicarion said nothing.

Caina started to laugh.

“What,” said Sicarion, “is so funny?”

“You don’t think you can kill Ranarius on your own,” said Caina, “do you?”

“It’s your fault,” Sicarion said to Corvalis. “I came to Cyrioch to kill Ranarius, not to find you. If you had just let me kill you, I would have disposed of Ranarius in short order. Now he’s fortified himself in the Gallery of the Well. If I catch him off-guard, I can kill him…but if I fail, he’ll kill me, and rather quickly.” 

“So you want our help,” said Caina.

“Well,” said Sicarion. “You were going to fight him anyway.”

“Absolutely not,” said Corvalis. “I know what you are, Sicarion. You’ll try to kill us the moment we turn our backs.”

Sicarion sighed. “I do want to kill you. However, I am serious about an alliance. If I wasn’t, I would have killed you already, and then would have no need to endure this tedious conversation.” 

A faint tremor went through the floor.

“Ah,” said Sicarion. “Do you feel that? It’s beginning.”

“My liege stirs in his slumber,” said the Defender. 

“The spell is long and complex,” said Sicarion, “but Ranarius is a skilled magus. It will not take him much longer. Do you want to stop him, or would you rather continue this debate?”

“We can take Ranarius without your help,” said Corvalis.

“Perhaps,” said Sicarion, “but I doubt you can untie yourselves without my help.” 

“He has a point,” said Caina.

“You can’t possibly be considering this” said Corvalis.

“We need his help,” said Caina. “We aren’t getting out of here on our own.” She took a deep breath. “And we can always kill him after we stop Ranarius.”

“He’ll do the same,” said Corvalis.

Sicarion laughed with delight. “Of course! You defeated me in Artifel, and I always repay my debts. And you, mistress…the Moroaica would be better served by a different body. She’ll be wroth after I slay you…but she will get over it.” 

“But not until Ranarius is dead,” said Caina.

“He will betray us,” said Corvalis.

“Yes,” said Caina. “But if he was going to simply kill us, he would have done it already.” 

“Perhaps you’ll understand this, Aberon,” said Sicarion. “I want to kill you very badly…but I want to kill Ranarius even more. So I’ll use you to kill him, and then I’ll kill you. Elegant, no?”

Another faint tremor went through the floor.

“All right,” said Corvalis.

“Cut us loose,” said Caina.

“As you wish, mistress,” said Sicarion.

His boots clicked against the floor, and suddenly she felt his presence looming over her. His smell, a mixture of rotting flesh and half-congealed blood, flooded her nostrils. A brush of cool metal against her wrists, a tug at her ankles, and the ropes fell away. 

Caina stood, stretching her sore limbs.

“You next, Aberon,” said Sicarion, and Caina heard him cross the room.

“Watch where you’re cutting,” said Corvalis. 

“Oh, I do,” said Sicarion. “With great interest. I’m not terribly happy with my current hands. Perhaps I’ll replace them with yours.”

She heard the jangle of chain mail and weapons as Corvalis climbed to his feet. Caina tensed, wondered if the men would fight, but she heard nothing but heavy breathing. And a faint groaning noise, like overstressed rock beginning to move. 

“We haven’t much time,” said Sicarion. “Come.”

“Wait,” said Caina.

She stepped towards Nicasia.

“What are you doing?” said Nicasia.

Caina took another step forward, reaching out with her hands. “I’m going to touch you, but I’m not going to harm you. I’m going to take that collar off your neck.”

“What do you possibly hope to accomplish?” said the Defender. “Even if you destroy the collar, the master’s bracelet will maintain the binding spell.” 

“We don’t have time for this folly,” said Sicarion. “Come!”

“As loath as I am to agree with Sicarion,” said Corvalis, “he has a point.”

Caina ignored them both. “Maybe we’ll be victorious and kill Ranarius,” she said. Her hand closed around Nicasia’s thin shoulder, and neither the slave girl nor the elemental made any response. “Then you’ll be free…and I hope you’ll turn Corvalis’s sister and the others back to flesh. Or maybe Ranarius will kill us, but his bracelet will be damaged in the fighting. Then you can flee before he captures you again. But if you do flee…I hope you’ll consider turning the statues back to people once more.”

She felt Nicasia’s neck, the jade collar cold beneath her fingers. Caina took a deep breath to steady her hands, and slid her ghostsilver dagger from its sheath. Working by touch alone, she hooked the dagger under the collar and started to tug. The weapon grew hot beneath her fingers, and Nicasia gave a sudden cry.

The jade collar shattered, the pieces clinking as they fell to the floor. 

“That felt…strange,” said Nicasia. 

“Did it do anything?” said Caina.

“No,” said the Defender. “I am still bound to the master’s will. So I suggest you do not open your eyes.”

Another shock went through the floor, more violent this time.

“We must go!” said Sicarion. 

“Fine,” said Caina, sliding her ghostsilver dagger back into its sheath. 

“Follow me,” said Sicarion.

Caina started towards the of the door, hands held out before her.

“Ghost,” said the Defender.

She hesitated.

“I turned your allies to statues,” said the Defender. “Were you to open your eyes, I would do the same to you, and feel not the slightest regret.” Yet she heard a hint of doubt in the alien voice. “Why would you aid me? Why?”

“I don’t like slavers,” said Caina.

Neither Nicasia nor the Defender spoke as Caina followed Corvalis and Sicarion from the room. 

“It should be safe to open your eyes,” said Sicarion. 

Caina took a deep breath and looked around. 

She stood in a corridor in the slaves’ quarters, not far from where Marzhod had spoken with Tiria. Corvalis stood nearby, hands on his weapons, his eyes fixed on Sicarion. The scarred man leaned against the wall, his deformed face calm, but his eyes were narrowed.

“Will Nicasia come after us?” said Caina.

“Unlikely,” murmured Sicarion. “Bound elementals do exactly as they are told, and no more. Unless Ranarius gave it specific instructions to chase us down, it will stay there until Ranarius fetches it.” He sneered at her. “Unless the slave girl decides of her own accord to come after us. Since you were so kind to her.”

“We’ll need help,” said Caina. “The Ghost mercenaries in the Palace will aid us. And if we tell Lord Corbould what happened, we can get assistance from the Imperial Guard.”

“We can’t,” said Sicarion, “since Lord Corbould and Lord Khosrau have abandoned the Palace for a more defensible location in the city, lest the assassins strike again. The slaves have no wish to be murdered in their beds, so they’ve all fled. The Palace is deserted.” Another jolt went through the floor, dust falling from the ceiling. Caina thought of all that stone balanced above her head and shuddered. “We’re on our own. More convenient that way. No witnesses to kill.” 

“Ranarius will be in the Gallery of the Well,” said Caina.

Sicarion waved a hand through the air. “And he’s raised some kind of defensive spell around the Gallery.” He gave an irritated shake of his head. “I can’t tell what is it.”

“We’ll find out when we get there,” said Corvalis. “Let’s go.” 

They ran through the corridors. By unspoken agreement, Caina and Corvalis let Sicarion take the lead. Caina would never turn her back on the scarred assassin. Sicarion flashed a mocking smile over his shoulder at her and kept running. 

They left the slaves’ quarters behind and ran through the rich corridors of the Palace. Elaborate hangings of Anshani silk covered the walls, while niches held statues in the Nighmarian style or gleaming Istarish weapons. Weapons and statues and silk all trembled as the floor vibrated. The vibrations grew stronger, and Caina wondered if the Palace of Splendors would collapse around them even before Ranarius woke the Stone. 

They ran into one of the lesser courtyards ringing the Gallery of the Well itself. A wide reflecting pool filled most of the courtyard to the left, though Caina thought it looked deep enough to serve as a cistern in the event of a siege. A single narrow bridge of stone stretched over the pool. An elaborate garden filled most of the courtyard to the right.

The archway straight ahead led to the Gallery of the Well. Through the archway Caina saw flashes of golden light, and she felt a faint tingle, growing ever stronger, as Ranarius summoned mighty forces.

Sicarion stopped.

“What are you waiting for?” said Corvalis. 

“There’s a ward here,” said Sicarion. “It might blast us to ash if we blunder into it. If I can disarm it…”

The floor heaved, and Caina stumbled. For a terrible moment she thought they were too late, that Ranarius had finished his spell and the great elemental was rising…

Then she heard the grinding noise coming from the marble flagstones.

The floor splintered, a dome of jagging stone rising up. It swelled higher and higher, five feet, ten feet, twenty. As it did, it unfolded into a rough human shape, a crude statue wrought of jagged, broken rock. Twin golden flames flickered in the rough craters of its eyes, and Caina felt the pressure of the strange thing’s gaze. 

“Oh,” said Sicarion, drawing his sword and dagger.

“What is that?” said Corvalis, raising his own weapons. 

“A lesser earth elemental,” said Sicarion. “Ranarius must have summoned it to act as his guardian. 

“Why hasn’t it turned us to stone?” said Caina.