Ghost in the Hunt (33 page)

“The last time you fought the Red Huntress,” said Caina, “you carried this very valikon.”

“I thought her slain after our fight,” said Nasser, “and so returned the weapon to the Emissary.” 

“Did she know where you obtained it?” said Caina.

“I do not believe so,” said Nasser. “I eluded her in Istarinmul, came to Silent Ash Temple, and then wound up fighting her in northern Anshan.”

“Then she probably doesn’t know what we have the valikon now,” said Caina. 

“If she does not,” said Martin, “her ignorance will be a tremendous tactical advantage.”

“I agree entirely, my lord ambassador,” said Nasser.

“An advantage that we must not waste,” said Caina. “I suspect Kalgri will come right for me or for Claudia. I shall distract her when she does, and you can take her with the valikon.”

“The fight will be over quickly, at least,” said Martin. “One way or another.”

“Yes,” said Nasser. “We have only one chance at this. If…”

“Something’s coming,” said Strabane.

Caina turned back towards the terrace and the great stair. She saw a flicker of shadow in the setting sun and expected to see Kalgri appear atop the stairs, red cloak streaming around her.

Instead a creature from a nightmare came into sight, eyes of purple flame turned towards them.

“What the hell is that?” said Martin, his battlefield commander’s calm shaken for the first time.

Caina had never seen anything like the misshapen creature. It was about the size of a full-grown ox, but moved upon four limbs like an ape. Yet there was a curiously insect-like quality to its movements, and Caina half-suspected the thing could scuttle up the wall like a spider. The insect-like impression was reinforced by the ridged plates of glistening black chitin that armored every inch of its hide. Razor-sharp, serrated talons tipped its hands and toes, flickering with purple flames, and pincers jutted from the mouth of its disturbingly human-like face. A mane of black tentacles rose from the back of its head and shoulders, each tentacle tipped with a sharp barb. The misshapen thing started forward, its talons tapping against the stone of the terrace.

Laertes grunted, adjusted the ballista, and pulled a lever.

The war engine released with a tremendous twanging noise, and a six-foot shaft of steel blurred from the weapon. It slammed into the creature, hurling it back to the low stone wall at the edge of the terrace. The creature loosed a horrible scream in two voices at once. One sounded like a dying man, full of fear and terror and agony. The other was an inhuman rasp of fury.

The sound of a nagataaru. 

The creature shoved away from the wall and staggered forward. More black slime bubbled from the gaping wound in its chest, and at last the creature fell upon its face and lay motionless, the slime spreading in a pool around it.

“Gods,” said Caina.

“A capital shot, Laertes,” said Nasser. “A capital shot.”

Laertes shrugged. “In the Legion I was responsible for assembling the war engines. Guess I haven’t forgotten the trick.”

“Just what the devil was that thing?” said Martin.

“One of Callatas’s alchemical horrors,” said Caina, remembering the creatures she had seen lurking in Callatas’s Maze. “It has to be.”

“Alas, no,” said Nasser. “I fear it is something much worse. A kadrataagu.”

“What is that?” said Caina. “It sounds like another Iramisian word.”

“It is,” said Nasser, eyeing the carcass of the creature. “Of old, when a nagataaru entered a willing host, the loremasters of Iramis called such a creature a kadrataagu.” 

Caina frowned. “Then Kalgri is a kadrataagu?”

“Not quite,” said Nasser. The fingers of his left hand opened and closed. “The Huntress maintains control of her own mind, corrupt though it is. A kadrataagu…the nagataaru overshadows the host so utterly that the nagataaru rewrites the host’s mind and body in its own image. A kadrataagu is the result.”

“Gods,” said Caina. The twisted thing lying dead against the edge of terrace had once been a man? “I suppose that poor fool had no idea what would happen to him.”

“A man who accepts a nagataaru into himself is seeking dark power and dominion over his fellow men,” said Nasser. “He met his just reward.”

“Can that thing heal wounds the way that the Huntress could?” said Martin.

The ballista clanked, the string vibrating as Strabane and Laertes pulled it back into place. 

“We can shoot it again if it gets up,” said Laertes.

“No,” said Nasser. “Kadrataagu are usually created from lesser nagataaru. They can heal themselves when killing, but they don’t have the reserve of a greater nagataaru like the Voice. If…”

Black shapes blurred on the stairs, and four more kadrataagu raced onto the terrace. Strabane barked a curse and Laertes shifted the ballista to fire, but the misshapen forms scattered, moving close enough to the colonnade that Laertes and Strabane could not lower the ballista far enough to hit them. Caina whispered a curse and yanked her ghostsilver dagger from its sheath, expecting the kadrataagu to race up the walls and attack them.

But the creatures remained motionless, gazing up at them with eyes of purple flame. 

“I have a crossbow,” said Laertes. 

“Don’t bother,” said Nasser. “It will take more than one bolt to kill them, and it might set them off.” 

Caina pointed at one of the kadrataagu. “I think that one used to be our friend Aiovost.” The creature’s misshapen features looked familiar, and the burning eyes seemed filled with a horrible certainty. 

“We know where Kalgri found her allies, then,” said Claudia. “Why doesn’t she attack?”

“Because,” said Caina. “I think we hurt her badly the last time we fought. At the Golden Palace, she withdrew because there were too many Immortals in the way. But at Drynemet, we hurt her. If we had been a little luckier, we might actually have killed her. So sending her pet monsters to test us first before she...” 

“There!” said Claudia, pointing.

A figure in a red cloak appeared at the top of the stairs, and Laertes shifted the ballista and fired. The steel bolt blurred toward the cloaked shape, so fast that the human eye could not follow it, but the cloaked woman moved faster. The woman dodged, and the ballista bolt struck the wall at the edge of the terrace, bounced over, and tumbled into the nothingness below. 

The cloaked figure drew back her cowl, and Caina found herself looking into Kalgri’s face. The Huntress had discarded her mask, and her crimson armor remained slashed and tattered from the fight at Drynemet. It made her look ragged and savage, even beautiful, like a terrible goddess of war. The skin beneath the ripped armor was smooth and unmarked, and she looked the picture of health. 

For a moment they stared at each other as the sun sank beneath the mountain’s shoulder and the shadows lengthened. 

“Welcome, my lady Huntress,” said Nasser at last. “Alas, I fear the temple is full, and the monks are accepting no further lodgers.”

Kalgri laughed. “Such honeyed words, my lord of dust. Did you speak so charmingly as your family screamed and begged for you to save them? Did you make jokes as everyone you loved burned? Did you have a pleasant witticism as you contemplated the magnitude of your failure?”

Nasser’s smile did not waver, but Caina heard the faint squeal of his leather glove as the fingers of his left hand tightened. “Do come up here, my lady, and you will see if I can make jokes when your death is at hand.” 

“My death?” said Kalgri. “You are mistaken. I feed on death. You eluded me once before, but you are trapped now. Here you shall die at last. Fitting, really.”

“If you are so certain,” said Nasser, “come up here and we shall resolve the matter.”

“Why? This is the time for talking. For there is a time for all things. Did not the loremasters of old say that?” said Kalgri. “A time to talk, and a time to kill.” Her smile grew sharper, and a flicker of purple fire went through her hard black eyes. “You have no weapon that can hurt me. I will kill you when it pleases me.” 

Nasser smiled and said nothing, and Kalgri’s eyes turned to Caina.

“And you, Balarigar?” said Kalgri. “Have you no clever words for me? No taunts, no challenges?” 

She heard the metallic clank as Strabane and Laertes finished reloading the ballista. 

“What is left to be said?” said Caina. “You want to kill me, and I want to stop you. I fail to see how there is any room for discussion.”

Kalgri smiled. “You always have clever words. I have followed you for months, Balarigar. I know how you think.”

“If that is true,” said Caina, “then why haven’t you killed me already?” 

Kalgri’s smile vanished, and another flicker of purple fire went over her eyes, brighter than before. She stared up at Caina, her head tilted as if listening. Likely she was communing with the Voice. 

“Because,” said Kalgri at last, “there’s something I want to do first.”

“Something that you want to do?” said Caina. “Or the nagataaru that is wearing you like a cheap dress?”

“Ah,” said Kalgri with a little sigh of pleasure. “It is good to talk with someone who understands. I almost regret that I must kill you. Usually my prey die with such looks of stunned incomprehension upon their faces.”

“Then come up here,” said Caina. “There’s no need for you to die in ignorance, either.” 

“I would rather,” said Kalgri, “that you come down here.”

Caina laughed. “So you can kill me? I will not do your work for you.”

“It is not quite the time for killing, not yet,” said Kalgri. “I wish to have a short talk with you, Ghost. A few secrets exchanged, secrets that only you and I share. Then I will offer you a choice, and will permit you to return to the walls of Silent Ash Temple before I kill you.”

“Why?” said Caina. “What do we possibly have to talk about?” 

“Idle curiosity,” said Kalgri. “A few questions I would like to ask. Since you’re going to die before midnight, I won’t have another chance. There is also the matter of whether you shall die slowly or quickly.”

“Why would I come down to talk to you?” said Caina.

“Because I know you,” said Kalgri. “I’ve studied you for months. You’re not an assassin or a swordsman or a fighter. You’re a spy, and you take secrets and fashion them into weapons. Who knows? I might let slip some important secret, some bit of knowledge you could use to defeat me.” She smirked, the purple fire in her eyes flashing brighter. “Isn’t that worth the risk?”

Caina said nothing.

But the hell of it was…Kalgri was right. If Caina could keep Kalgri talking, the Huntress might reveal something important. Something useful. 

Something that might save their lives. The valikon could save their lives, but Kalgri was so damned fast. The Huntress might slay them all before Nasser could bring the weapon to bear, to say nothing of what her pet kadrataagu might do. 

“If you fear for your safety,” said Kalgri with amusement, “I promise neither I nor my servants shall harm you, and that after we conclude our discussion I will let you return to your companions. Unless you attack first, of course.” 

“Your promises,” said Nasser, “are worth considerably less than the breath you use to make them.”

“Of course,” said Kalgri. “My word means nothing. But I will kill the Balarigar tonight, my lord of ashes. Either right now, or when our discussion is concluded. I prefer to have some questions answered first, though.” She tilted her head to the side again, listening. “I prefer that very much.”

Caina blinked. The Voice itself wanted to talk with her? That seemed unlikely. Yet the great nagataaru calling itself Kotuluk Iblis had spoken to her in the netherworld. Kotuluk Iblis had inadvertently revealed information to her, something about a pact and a creature called the Azure Sovereign. Perhaps Kalgri and her damned Voice would do the same. 

“All right,” said Caina.

Kalgri gestured, and the kadrataagu backed off, moving to the corners of the terrace beneath the colonnade.

“This is an extremely bad idea,” said Claudia. 

“Probably,” said Caina.

“You shouldn’t go down there,” said Claudia.

“Almost certainly,” said Caina. “But it might be worth the risk.”

“A very great risk, to be sure,” said Nasser. “Do you want the weapon?”

“Keep it with you,” said Caina “If Kalgri goes back on her word and kills me, you’ll need it when she comes for you.” 

“You are truly going to trust that murderous madwoman?” said Martin. 

“Trust isn’t necessary,” said Caina. “I must know something that she wants to know. She won’t kill me until she’s sure of it, or until she’s certain that I don’t have any tricks or traps up my sleeve.” 

“Very well,” said Martin. “But at the first sign of treachery, I will have Laertes shoot her.” 

Caina nodded and descended the wall, walking to the gate. There was a small postern door within the gate, and she opened it and walked onto the broad terrace outside of Silent Ash Temple. Kalgri awaited her in the center of the terrace, her blood-colored cloak rippling around her in the cool wind, her shadow long and black as the sun grew dimmer to the west. 

Caina stopped a dozen paces from the Red Huntress and waited, her hands resting upon the hilts of the weapons at her belt.

For a moment they stared at each other, Kalgri’s eyes flickering with purple fire. Caina felt the full weight of Kalgri’s attention, and more, the malevolent will of the Voice stirring behind her eyes. 

“Nasser,” said Kalgri at last, “doesn’t know that you are a woman, does he?”

“Noticed that, did you?” said Caina. 

“Clever of you,” said Kalgri. “He is a hard man to fool. Or to kill. Which I intend to rectify shortly.” 

“He says,” said Caina, “that he defeated you once before.” 

“Sheer luck,” said Kalgri. “I shall be more careful this time.” She grinned. “Tell me. Has he told you his secret yet? Has he told you who he really is?” 

“He doesn’t know I am a woman,” said Caina. “I suspect he has his secrets as well. Is he really a woman, too?”

That caused Kalgri to laugh. “No. But Grand Master Callatas wants him dead. He, too, has no idea that you are a woman. I look forward to seeing the surprise on that dusty old face when he learns the truth. You can’t have children, can you?”