Ghost in the Seal (Ghost Exile #6) (16 page)

They dashed into the alley, the cataphractus lumbering after them.

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Caina hoped to lose the cataphractus in the narrow alleys, or to at least negate its advantages of speed and power. Some of the dockside alleys near the Alqaarin Harbor were so narrow that the cataphractus could not walk through them. Caina expected the cataphractus to respond by climbing over the warehouses, or by circling to the piers and waiting for them.

She did not expect the cataphractus to walk through the warehouses themselves like a child smashing his way through a sand castle. 

The undead hulk slammed into the wall of a warehouse and kept running, plunging through the brick wall with such force that the alley shivered beneath Caina’s boots. The creature kept running forward, ripping a slash through the warehouse’s roof as it did, and Caina had the brief, absurd vision of a man wading through chest-deep water, albeit water made of clay tiles. 

She and Kylon burst from the maze of alleys and into the broad street that curved along the piers of the Alqaarin Harbor. Hundreds of ships floated at the long stone piers, stacks of cargo waiting everywhere. Porter slaves labored to unload the ships, and dozens of them turned to look at the crashing sound coming from the warehouses. 

“Pier nineteen!” said Kylon, pointing at a stone dock about thirty ships away. Caina saw a galley there, bobbing upon the waves, with a great deal of commotion on its deck. Hopefully Nasser had urged the captain to prepare for a hasty departure. “We…”

The cataphractus burst from the wall of the warehouse behind Caina. Bricks erupted in all directions, and one slammed into her stomach, another bouncing off her right hip. A jolt of pain shot down her leg, and Caina stumbled backward and fell, barely keeping her grip on the ghostsilver dagger.

The cataphractus towered over her, its vile, rotting smell filling her nostrils as something like melted fat slid along the steel plates of its armor. It raised one massive, armored foot, and Caina scrambled backward, trying to get her numbed leg beneath her. When the cataphractus’s foot came down, it would crush her to jelly…

Kylon struck first, ripping the valikon across the back of the creature’s upraised leg. The cataphractus let out a furious, gurgling snarl and spun, driving a fist at Kylon. Caina sensed the flicker as the valikon disrupted the necromantic spells upon the creature, but the cataphractus did not seem to notice. The creature was simply too large and the spells upon it too powerful for the valikon to disrupt them as it did with the spells binding the Adamant Guards. Kylon dodged the massive fist and swung, trying to sever the creature’s wrist. The valikon rebounded from the steel armor plates, and the cataphractus lumbered after him. Caina flung a throwing knife, the blade sinking into the corrupted flesh, but the weapon seemed to have no effect. 

The creature was going to kill Kylon, and then it would come after her. 

Caina tried to stand again. Some feeling came into her numbed leg again. It was going to hurt damnably in about an hour or so.

Assuming she was still alive to feel it. 

Strong hands seized her beneath the shoulders, and Morgant the Razor pulled her up. Caina caught her balance as Kylon dodged another blow from the cataphractus. Morgant had buttoned his black coat to the neck, as he usually did when there was trouble. 

“Now, now, Balarigar,” said Morgant. “Getting squished by a giant bag of rotting meat is no way for a hero to die. It would make an unappealing ending to the poem. Get the Kyracian and follow me.”

“Can’t,” croaked Caina, watching as the cataphractus dueled Kylon. “It will follow us and destroy the ship. We’ve got to put the damned thing down.”

“A fine suggestion!” said Morgant. “And just how the devil are we supposed to accomplish that?”

“The bloodcrystal in the center of its chest,” said Caina. She felt the flows of necromantic power around the creature, and they centered around the shard of glowing crystal in its chest. “That’s what animates the cataphractus. Destroy that, and it’s just a pile of rotting meat and rusty steel.” 

“Kyracian!” shouted Morgant, drawing his red scimitar and his black dagger. “I’ll carve the way! You follow!” 

Kylon nodded, not taking his eyes from the hulking creature. Morgant darted forward, spinning his scimitar in his right hand, the black dagger steady in his left. He opened a shallow cut in the creature’s left leg with a quick slash of his scimitar, a cut that leaked a foul-smelling slime. The creature turned to face the new threat, and Morgant ducked under the blow of a fist and cut with his black dagger. The black blade sliced through one of the steel plates covering the creature’s knee, and Morgant ripped the dagger down. The weapon left a glowing, white-hot slash in the plate, and a section of it fell to the ground with a ringing clatter. The cataphractus let out another gurgling roar of fury and raised its leg to crush Morgant, but the black-clad assassin was already moving, and the stomping foot missed him by a few inches. He spun again, ripping his dagger across the steel plates on the creature’s legs, and another chunk of armor fell away, the edges glowing white-hot. Morgant danced away, and Kylon shot forward, bringing the valikon around to swing with both hands.

He hit the joint of the cataphractus’s knee once, twice, three times, chunks of rotting meat and yellow slime bursting from the impacts. The cataphractus loosed a gurgling snarl and swung its massive fist down like a hammer. Kylon jumped backwards, the huge armored fist swinging in front of his face, and avoided the blow. Morgant carved another chunk of steel from the creature’s left leg, and Kylon darted into the gap, landing another hit with the valikon. 

Caina watched the furious battle, ghostsilver dagger in her right hand, cursing her uselessness. Her throwing knives couldn’t hurt the cataphractus, and her ghostsilver dagger would simply be a pinprick to the huge creature. If Kylon managed to take off one of its legs, perhaps that would slow the creature long enough for them to escape to the
Eastern Fire
. Though from what Caina had heard of the cataphracti, the only way to destroy one was to smash the bloodcrystal that powered it. Otherwise it would just reattach its severed limbs, or it might crawl after them with its arms. 

Morgant cut another section of armor from the creature’s knee, and Kylon struck again, the valikon’s blade sinking halfway into the meaty leg. He was hewing through it like a woodsman working his way through the trunk of a tree. Kylon ripped the valikon free, and his right foot came down onto one of the puddles of slime that had leaked from the cataphractus. He slipped and stumbled, and the edge of the creature’s fist clipped his shoulder. Even the glancing impact threw Kylon back a dozen paces, and he landed hard upon his back 

The cataphractus thundered after him, and Caina’s heart rose into her throat. 

“Hey!” she yelled at the top of her lungs, ignoring the pain in her right leg as ran at the undead monstrosity. The cataphractus ignored her, so Caina attacked its left leg, hammering her ghostsilver dagger into its corrupted, rotting flesh. The wounds sizzled and smoked, the dagger growing hot beneath her hand, the necromantic aura around the creature starting to flicker a little. “Come on! You’re looking for me, aren’t you?”

The cataphractus whirled. She slashed again with the ghostsilver dagger, the wound hissing and sizzling. The cataphractus punched at her, and Caina dodged back as Kylon regained his feet.

“Catch me already!” said Caina. “What are you waiting for? Do it!”

A dark shape darted past her, and Morgant flung his black dagger at the creature’s wounded leg. The weapon sank into the cataphractus’s damaged left knee, and the creature ignored the blade, still lumbering after Caina. 

Then the heat stored in the black dagger, the heat created when it had sliced through the thick steel armor like paper, released.

The explosion was rather impressive.

A wave of hot air rushed past Caina, knocked her back a step, and chunks of burning meat rained in all directions. The smell was absolutely hideous. The cataphractus’s left leg dissolved in a ball of flame, and the creature’s enraged gurgle sounded more surprised than anything else. Morgant snapped his fingers, and the black dagger flew out of the fire and landed back in his hand, the aura of its powerful sorcery washing over Caina like a wave of needles. The cataphractus landed upon its belly with a loud clang, and crawled forward with alarming speed, jerking and shuddering towards Caina.

Kylon sprang out of the reeking smoke and landed on the creature’s back. He squinted for a second, raised the sword high, and drove it into a gap between two of the armor plates. The blade sank to the hilt in the rotting flesh, accompanied by a sputtering sizzle and a plume of black smoke. 

Caina felt the shudder in the creature’s aura as the ghostsilver blade found the bloodcrystal embedded into the cataphractus’s chest, and another as the bloodcrystal collapsed into ash, its stolen power dissipating into nothingness. The cataphractus gurgled one more time, and then went limp, a pool of yellowish slime spreading beneath it. Kylon ripped the valikon free from the hulk, breathing hard.

“Gods and devils, but that is a terrible stink,” said Morgant, waving the dagger in front of his face. “Do your enemies now congregate in the back room of a sausage maker’s shop?”

“Cataphractus,” said Caina as Kylon hurried to her. “Undead animation. The Umbarians use them as two-legged siege engines.” She turned, looking down the street. The fighting had driven off most of the porter slaves, but more Umbarians would arrive at any moment. “We…”

An explosion of fire erupted in front of her.

Caina stumbled to a stop, Kylon grabbing her arm to stabilize her. A wall of fire roared in front of her, ten feet high, the heat washing over her face. Before she could react, the wall of fire bent and curved, the air thrumming with pyromantic power, and rolled around them. Suddenly Caina, Kylon, and Morgant stood within a ring of howling fire perhaps twenty feet across. Caina took a cautious step forward, then retreated at once. The fire was simply too hot to approach and too high to jump over. Even standing in the center of the ring, the heat was oppressive. 

Through the dancing flames she saw another troop of Adamant Guards marching along the piers. At their head walked a tall man in a long black coat, a golden medallion glittering against his chest. He had blond hair, strong features, and bright blue eyes, and a gauntlet of black metal covered his right hand, a red gem shining on its back. 

“Cassander Nilas,” spat Kylon. 

Cassander was too far away to hear them, and the roar of the flames would have drowned out Kylon’s voice. Yet Cassander’s eyes met Caina’s, and a cheery smile spread over his face.

He closed his armored fist, and the ring of flames contracted. 

Chapter 9: Fire and Lore

The plates of Cassander’s gauntlet rasped against each other as he focused the pyromantic fire, the ring shrinking around Caina and Kylon and the old man in the black coat. The fire was hot enough that it would leave only charred bones behind. 

And with that, Cassander was victorious. 

He had not expected it to be so easy. Granted, he had lost over a score of Adamant Guards in the fighting. Kylon carried a weapon that seemed able to disable the Guards with the lightest scratch, disrupting the spells that gave them superhuman strength. Unless Cassander missed his guess, Kylon carried one of the swords once borne by the ancient Iramisian valikarion, warriors sworn to defend Iramis from outlaw sorcerers and spirits of the netherworld. He wondered where Kylon had found the damned thing. Likely Caina had discovered it somewhere and given it to Kylon to wield in battle.

Cassander also wondered why the Red Huntress had not bothered to inform him of this pertinent detail. A valikon could have sliced through both Cassander’s wards and his spell-armored coat as easily as cloth. For that matter, he wondered why Kalgri had not taken part in the fighting. The woman rejoiced in carnage the way a mother rejoiced in her children. Surely she would have joined in the killing. 

Or, more likely, she knew that Kylon carried a valikon, a sword forged as a bane to nagataaru, and had maneuvered Cassander into killing Caina and Kylon for her. Clever, he had to admit. Well, he could forgive the manipulation, since it had brought him victory.

Also, Cassander’s fire would not destroy the valikon, which meant Cassander would carry the sword the next time he spoke with Kalgri. Perhaps that would put a respectful tongue in her head.

The fire closed around his enemies, and suddenly Cassander felt a surge of power.

A dome of white light flashed across the piers, and his ring of fire collapsed, its power draining away.

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Caina rocked back on her feet, taking a deep, gasping breath. 

One moment the fire had yawned up to swallow her, the heat filling her body, her clothes starting to smolder. The next moment the fire vanished as a surge of resonant power washed past Caina. She looked around, wondering what had happened. Had Cassander’s spell failed? Or had the Umbarian magus decided to spare them at the last moment?

She looked and saw that Kylon was unharmed, if red-faced and sweating from the heat, and felt a wave of relief. 

“Damn it,” muttered Morgant. He seemed unfazed. “I told her to stay on the ship.”

A woman in a brown dress walked past the piers, a delicate bronze staff in her right hand. It flashed and flickered with white light, the woman’s silver hair rippling in the hot breeze from the quenched fire. 

“Get ready,” said Morgant. “We’ll have to keep the Adamant Guards off her while she deals with that Umbarian. Probably a Silent Hunter or two trying to sneak around her, too.” 

Caina nodded, trying to clear her head as she took her ghostsilver dagger in her right hand and a throwing knife in her left. Kylon lifted the valikon, hilt in both hands. Morgant rolled his shoulders, black dagger and crimson scimitar ready. 

“Cassander Nilas!” called Annarah, her musical voice raised like the blast of a trumpet. “Hearken to me!”