Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 05 - Ghost in the Stone (37 page)

“It is always difficult to see treachery, my lord,” said Theodosia. “Especially from those closest to us.” 

Khosrau, Corbould, and Theodosia at the table, taking breakfast together. Save for Caina, they were alone. Khosrau, who was no fool, had figured out that Theodosia had high rank in the Ghosts. No doubt he suspected Caina as well. 

“He was always so joyless,” said Khosrau. “So grim, so serious. I tried to lighten his spirits. A lord has a role to play, like any other man…but that is no reason not to enjoy himself.”

“I think,” said Theodosia, “that your son loved his own dignity, his own prestige, more than anything else.” 

“A grave error,” said Corbould. “A lord of the Empire must maintain his dignity at all times. But prestige is only a tool to aid in ruling the Empire, not an end to itself.” 

“Indeed,” said Khosrau, and he sighed. 

“Then I may tell the Emperor,” said Corbould, “that Cyrica will remain loyal?”

“You may, my friend,” said Khosrau. “For Cyrica to rebel and declare itself a kingdom would be madness. Cyrica is not strong enough to stand on its own. And the Emperor is a better master than the Shahenshah of Anshan or the Padishah of Istarinmul.” He looked at Theodosia. “Certainly the servants of the Shahenshah would not have gone to such lengths to save one fat old man.” 

“Well,” said Theodosia. “You do appreciate opera, after all.” 

Khosrau barked out a laugh. “Cyrica will remain loyal to the Empire, my lord Corbould. Our farms shall grow the wheat and the cotton that shall feed and clothe the Legions as they drive back the soldiers of Istarinmul.” 

Corbould smiled. It was one of the few times Caina could recall him ever doing that. “Thank you, my lord Khosrau. That is the best news I have received since Rezir Shahan and Andromache of House Kardamnos were slain.” 

“Yes, this mysterious Balarigar,” said Khosrau. “I had thought him a legend, but it appears I was wrong.”

Corbould grunted. “A trick. Some clever Ghost playing on the legend of the Balarigar.” He gave Theodosia a look.

Theodosia sniffed. “I’m sure I don’t know, my lord.”

“Well, keep your secrets, as spies must,” said Corbould. “But I will not criticize your methods. The ruse was effective enough, and it drove Armizid to confess the truth. Though I still think this ‘Balarigar’ is a construction of Ghost trickery.”

Caina carefully kept from smiling. 

“It won’t last, you know,” said Khosrau. He waved a thick hand in the direction of the city. “All of this. Cyrica holds too many slaves, and someday they will rise up, and we won’t be able to stop them. And too many nobles agreed with Armizid. I shall have a difficult time keeping them in line.”

Theodosia grinned. “Concerning that, my lord Khosrau…the Ghosts may be able to offer a little help.”

###

Later that day Caina disguised herself as a common caravan guard and made her way to the Painted Whore and Marzhod’s workroom. 

His workroom was busy. 

A long table lay covered with books and documents from the Kindred Elder’s study. Barius and a few of Marzhod’s clerks sat at the table, working through the pages. Barius made notes in a ledger, chuckling to himself every few pages. Saddiq stood against the wall, thick arms folded over his massive chest, and grinned as she approached. 

“Nightfighter,” he rumbled. “It is good to see you with eyes of flesh instead of stone.”

“So you do remember everything that happened while you were stone?” said Caina.

Saddiq shrugged. “It is…like a dream. As if I dreamed that I were wrapped in ice, and nothing seemed to matter. It was not…painful, no. Still, I do not miss it.” 

“I certainly do not,” said Barius. “It is hard to turn a profit will frozen in stone.”

“A fine sentiment,” said Marzhod from his desk. 

Caina stepped towards him. “Theodosia wants to know…”

Marzhod grinned. “What I’ve found? Oh, enough information to make me rich a second time.” He pointed at the Book of Blood and Gold on the center of the clerks’ table. “Half the nobility of Cyrica has hired the Kindred to kill the other half at some point. Not to mention the merchants, the magi, even some of the priests…there are secrets enough in that book to send most of the rich men in Cyrioch to the executioner’s block.”

“And you’re going to blackmail them,” said Caina.

“Of course,” said Marzhod. “Running the Ghost circle of Cyrioch is hardly cheap. I’ll merely let these men know that I’m more than happy to keep their secrets…in exchange for a nominal fee. And if they get restive, if they decide Cyrica should become part of Anshan…why, they’ll get another little reminder. A man can hardly lead a rebellion if he’s gotten himself beheaded for hiring assassins.” 

Caina nodded and turned to go.

“Nightfighter,” said Marzhod.

She stopped. 

“You are,” he said, “not quite as big a fool as I thought.” 

Caina thought of Nadirah, of the slaves Marzhod had smuggled out of Cyrica in exchange for their loyalty.

“And you,” she said, “are not quite the heartless villain I thought you to be.” She paused. “Mostly.”

Barius guffawed.

Marzhod glared at him. “A man does have a reputation to maintain.”

Caina nodded again and left.

###

That night Caina lay in her bed and dreamed, and the Moroaica came to her in the swirling gray mists. 

“You did well,” said Moroaica.

Caina scowled. “Your praise means ever so much to me.” 

A faint smile flickered over Jadriga’s red lips. “I was not sure you would prevail against Ranarius. But you did. You proved the cleverer, and Ranarius was destroyed by the forces he foolishly sought to command.”

“Just as you would have been,” said Caina, “had you opened that pit below Black Angel Tower.” 

The Moroaica’s smile widened. “But you are triumphant. Ranarius is defeated, Lord Khosrau is alive, and the Cyricans will remain loyal to your Emperor. Does that not please you?”

Caina shrugged. “It is better than civil war.” 

“But you…what does your victory mean for you?” said Jadriga. “You are still alone. You are still like me, a creature of death and steel. You have saved the families and happiness of others…but you will never save your own. You shall remain alone…”

“Unless I join with your great work,” said Caina. “Yes, I’ve heard this speech from you before.” 

Jadriga’s smile did not waver. “Together, child of the Ghosts. Together you and I can remake the world. A world with no more pain, no more sorrow, no more death. We shall build a better world than the gods ever did.” 

“That’s mad,” said Caina. “As mad as Ranarius thinking he could control the earth elemental.” 

“It is only madness if I do not have the power to do it,” said Jadriga, “and I do. Join with me, and I shall show you.” 

“No,” said Caina. “For the last time, no.” 

The Moroaica’s dark eyes glinted above her red smile. “No matter. I can wait.”

“How long?” said Caina.

“Why, for the rest of your life.”

The Moroaica waved her hand and the dream vanished.

###

The next morning Caina rose, practiced the unarmed forms for an hour, bathed herself, and dressed. 

Then she walked to another suite in the Inn of the Defender and knocked. 

“Come in!” came a woman’s voice, warm and cheerful.

Caina stepped into a richly furnished sitting room. The first thing she saw was Nicasia. The former slave girl stood before a mirror, her blindfold off, examining herself in a mirror. She had traded her ragged gray slave’s tunic for a gown of gold with red trim. 

“I do not understand,” said the Defender’s voice from Nicasia’s lips, “this mortal obsession with adorning yourself. Flesh is flesh. Why sheath it in silks or adorn it with jewels?”

“Because,” said Nicasia, “it looks so pretty! Doesn’t it look pretty?” 

“I think,” said the woman’s voice, “that it looks very pretty.”

Claudia Aberon stood by the window, watching Nicasia. She had exchanged her black magus’s robe for a green gown that matched her eyes, black embroidery marking the sleeves and bodice. She looked startlingly beautiful. Caina wondered if she intended to marry and raise children.

As Caina never could. 

“Ghost,” said Claudia, and she smiled. “Come, please, sit with me.” 

Caina sat on one of the sofas, and Claudia sat next to her. 

“I just wanted to thank you,” said Claudia. “I would not be here if not for your efforts.” 

Caina shrugged. “I would not leave anyone trapped like that, sealed in stone for centuries.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“You don’t,” said Claudia, “like me very much, do you?”

Caina decided to be honest. “No.”

“Because I am a magus.” 

“Yes,” said Caina. She frowned. “I…have known many sorcerers. I have yet to meet one that had not been corrupted by their power.”

Claudia nodded. “That I can understand. The Magisterium is filled with cruel men and women. But it needn’t be so. Sorcery is a tool like any other. It just needs to be used responsibly, to help people, not to rule over them.” 

“Those are fine-sounding words,” said Caina. “Corvalis…Corvalis thinks you are a good woman. Perhaps his eyes are clouded because you are his sister. But he has seen enough cruelty from the Magisterium and your father to know the truth when he sees it. If Corvalis thinks you are a good woman…that is enough for me.”

Claudia grinned. “So you won’t gut me here and now?” 

Caina laughed. “Corvalis went to all that effort to save you. I wouldn’t want it to be in vain.” 

“No,” said Claudia. “Corvalis speaks very highly of you.”

“Dare I ask what he said?” said Caina.

“He says you are cleverer than anyone he has ever met,” said Claudia. “He said the Kindred taught him that the deadliest weapon was not a sword or poison or an arrow, but the mind, and that you have grasped that truth better than anyone.”

“That’s hardly flattering,” said Caina. But it wasn’t inaccurate, was it? 

She was a killer, like it or not, and her mind was a weapon. 

“But he also said you were wise,” said Claudia. “That you knew why to fight, not just how. And that you saved his life, again and again.” She reached over and grabbed Caina’s hand. “Thank you…thank you for saving him. I…could not have borne it, if he had been slain.” 

“You do love him,” said Caina, “don’t you?”

“Yes,” said Claudia. “He has had a harder life than me. But that does not mean my life has been easy. Our father is a cruel tyrant. When we were children…sometimes Corvalis was all that kept me from going mad. When our father sold him to the Kindred, I was sure he had been killed. When he returned, even after what the Kindred had done to him…it was like a gift from the gods themselves.” She squeezed Caina’s fingers once more, and then released her hand. “Thank you for saving him.” 

They sat in silence once more.

“What will you do now?” said Caina at last. 

“I shall join the Ghosts,” said Claudia. “Theodosia offered it to me, and I accepted. I am a renegade magus, and there is no place else for me to go. I always wanted to use my powers for good, to help people. Corvalis told me about the things you have done. If not for your courage, Ranarius would have destroyed Cyrica and the Empire would have fallen into civil war. You saved so many lives! Perhaps…perhaps I can do as much, someday.” 

Caina nodded. “Corvalis will go with you, I expect.”

Claudia grinned. “Well, I am an outcast magus, and he is a renegade Kindred. Where else shall we go?”

Caina had expected nothing else. Yet she still felt a faint pang at the words. She would have liked…

What, exactly?

She pushed aside the thought and moved on. 

“What about Nicasia?” said Caina.

“She will come with me,” said Claudia. “She has suffered much. And someone needs to look after her. Why not me?”

“You are a good woman,” said Nicasia, her blindfold over her eyes once more.

“I wish to see more of the mortal world,” said the Defender. “Your society of spies travels a great deal, and I shall learn more of the mortal realm this way.”

Caina nodded. A renegade magus, a renegade Kindred, and a former slave possessed by an earth elemental. Halfdan would put the odd trio to good use, indeed. 

“Thank you again,” said Claudia.

Caina stood. “I am glad for you.” She remembered the Moroaica’s words. “And I am happy that I could save the families of others. There has been enough death already.”

She left without another word. 

###

As the sun set, Caina sat alone in Theodosia’s sitting room, paging through a book. 

Theodosia had gone to one of Lord Khosrau’s dinners with Lord Corbould, and with the Kindred destroyed and Armizid dead, they would be safe enough. Claudia and Nicasia had gone as well, accompanied by Corvalis, disguised as members of the opera company. Any attacker who escaped Corvalis’s blades and avoided Claudia’s spells would see the golden fire of Nicasia’s eyes.

And that would be the last thing any foes ever saw.

Caina was alone.

Perhaps that was how it should be. 

The Moroaica was right about that, at least. Caina’s family was dead, and she would never have children of her own. But she could save the families of others, just as she had rescued Tanya and Nicolai from the Moroaica, just as she had reunited Corvalis with his sister. 

That was enough for her. 

She had seen and endured terrible things. But it had not been in vain. And…

Someone knocked at the sitting room door.

Caina frowned and reached into the sleeve of her dress for a throwing knife. “Who is it?”

“Corvalis.”

She blinked. “Come in.” 

Corvalis entered, and Caina rose. 

He dressed as he always did, in chain mail and a cloak, sword and dagger at his belt. She had never seen him without weapons. No doubt he felt undressed without them just as Caina did. 

“I thought you would be with Claudia,” said Caina, “at Lord Khosrau’s dinner.”

Corvalis shrugged. “I changed my mind. Claudia enjoys that sort of thing, but I do not. I would worry for her safety, but Ranarius is dead and the Kindred are destroyed. Nicasia will be with her.”