Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 08 - Ghost in the Mask (3 page)

“Thank you,” said Caina.

“And you did say,” said Shaizid, “that dinner with the magi was never boring.”

“Gods, no,” said Caina. “Though I’ve come to prefer boring dinners. I…”

She fell silent as a pair of men come through the front doors of the House of Kularus, both in their middle fifties. One was Istarish, with iron-gray hair and beard and a perpetual scowl. He wore chain mail and dark leather, and carried a scimitar at his belt. The second man wore a merchant’s furred robe and cap, his beard close-cropped. A short sword rested at his belt, and his shrewd eyes took in the entire room. 

He was worried. Caina had known Halfdan for eleven years, half of her life, and she knew when he was worried. 

“Master Basil is here, mistress,” said Shaizid. “Shall I fetch Master Anton?”

“Please,” said Caina. “And tell Master Anton to bring the locked box from the cellar. I suspect Master Basil will wish to see it.” Shaizid nodded, and Caina caught his sleeve. “Don’t open that box for any reason.”

“Some things are better left unknown, mistress,” said Shaizid. “I know that too well.”

He bowed and hurried off, and Caina crossed the floor.

“Master Basil,” she said to Halfdan in her Szaldic accent, “you honor the House of Kularus with your presence.” 

Halfdan grinned. “And Anton is so busy that he cannot greet me in person, but must send his mistress to welcome me?”

“It is scandalous,” said Caina. 

“I shall have to thank Anton for the loan of his bodyguard,” said Halfdan, glancing at the Istarish man. “He most useful.”

“You are well, Muravin?” said Caina. The Istarish man had once been a gladiator and a bodyguard in Istarinmul’s College of Alchemists. Two months ago, Caina had rescued Muravin, his daughter, and her unborn child from an Alchemist intent on killing them, and Muravin had joined the Ghosts. “How are Mahdriva and her son?”

“I am as well as I ever am,” said Muravin, “though I wish it did not rain so much here. The damp makes my joints hurt.” His hard face flickered into a brief smile. “Though Sonyar…he is well. Two months old, and he shouts like a gladiator in the pits! But I must find a husband for Mahdriva soon, someone to look after her when I am gone.”

“It is good to see you unharmed,” said Halfdan. “I understand Preceptor Rhazion gave a most…festive banquet last night.” 

“Festive,” said Caina, “as only the magi know how.” Shaizid hurried across the floor, Corvalis following, a slender wooden box under one arm. “Master Anton and I have business to discuss with you.”

“Yes,” said Halfdan, his eyes straying to the box. “I believe we do. If you would lead the way?”

###

Caina, Corvalis, and Halfdan went to Anton Kularus’s study on the House’s top floor. A thick carpet covered the floorboards, and a balcony looked over the bustling Imperial Market. A heavy desk stood near the balcony, and shelves lined the walls, holding books that Corvalis had not read, but Caina had. Here Corvalis conducted the business of the House of Kularus, masquerading as Anton Kularus. Caina and Shaizid made most of the decisions, and Corvalis made an effective figurehead. 

Muravin stationed himself at the door with a scowl, ready to discourage any eavesdroppers.

“So,” said Halfdan, seating himself, “I understand you had an eventful night?”

“That may be an understatement,” said Caina, sitting across from Halfdan, Corvalis next to her. 

“The magi, of course, are saying nothing,” said Halfdan. “The new preceptor’s public pronouncement claimed a renegade magus tried to assassinate the master magi of Malarae, but the renegade died in the attack. I suspect things happened rather differently.”

“They did,” said Caina, and she told him in detail about Jurius’s attack and his strange weapon.

Halfdan’s expression, already solemn, grew even graver.

“Anubankh,” he said when Caina had finished. “You are certain he said that?”

“Absolutely,” said Caina. “I thought the name sounded familiar. It’s Maatish, is it not?”

“It is,” said Halfdan. “One of the gods of old Maat. Specifically, the god of necromancy.” 

Caina felt a chill.

“The Maatish worshipped necromancy?” said Corvalis. “That’s rather grim.”

“They didn’t call it necromancy,” said Halfdan. “Rather, Anubankh was their god of…immortality, let us say. The ancient Maatish were obsessed with immortality. Necromancy was merely the tool they used to try and obtain it. Their necromancer-priests, the Great Necromancers, used sorcery to embalm the pharaohs, to give them a sort of eternal life in their pyramid tombs.”

“And their slaves,” said Caina. She remembered the piece of the Moroaica’s memories that she had glimpsed, how a Maatish priest had murdered her father and led Jadriga away to be raised as one of the pharaoh’s undead slaves for eternity. “They called them the Undying.” The Moroaica was a sorceress of power, a woman whose schemes and spells had cost the lives of uncounted thousands…but she had once been a little girl whose father had been murdered in front of her.

Just as Caina had been. 

“So the question is,” said Corvalis, “why an outcast magus shows up screaming prayers to Anubankh and promising that the Kingdom of the Rising Sun shall be born again?”

“A very good question,” said Halfdan. “You have his weapon, I trust?”

Caina nodded, and Corvalis lifted the box. 

“Show me,” said Halfdan. “I think I know what it is…and I hope that I am wrong.” 

Corvalis produced a key, undid three locks, and opened the box. Inside lay Jurius’s black dagger, the steel still gleaming with its strange green glow, the bloodcrystal flickering with its own light. 

For a moment they stared at the weapon in silence.

“An evil-looking thing,” rumbled Muravin. “Almost as ill-omened as those golden ashes Sinan wanted.” 

“No,” said Halfdan. He looked shaken. Caina had been with Halfdan in more dangerous situations than she cared to remember, but she had never seen him look quite so alarmed. “No, this is much worse.” 

“It’s Maatish, isn’t it?” said Caina. 

Halfdan barked a laugh. “Not quite. It is, in fact, a Nighmarian weapon. The magi made it.”

“The magi?” said Caina.

“It’s called a Dustblade,” said Halfdan, “and those creatures it created are called Dust Shades. The dagger kills with a touch, and the corpses of its victims crumble into dust within a day. Hence the name.” He rubbed his beard. “The Dust Shades, from what I understand, are…echoes of a sort, created when the dagger kills its victims.”

“But echoes that can kill,” said Corvalis. 

“The magi made this thing?” said Caina. “But they are forbidden to use necromancy. Not that the law ever stopped them, but they don’t have the skill to create anything like this…unless…” She frowned. “This was made during the Fourth Empire, wasn’t it?”

Halfdan nodded. “When the magi ruled the Empire. And a hundred and fifty years ago, during the War of the Fourth Empire, the Emperor defeated the magi and took control of the Empire. How did that happen?”

Caina frowned, remembering the history she had read. “The most powerful members of the Magisterium gathered in their stronghold at Caer Magia. They wanted to cast some sort of spell, something that would destroy their enemies in an instant. But the spell went amiss, and killed them all…along with the hundred thousand people living in Caer Magia. The Magisterium was decimated. The remaining magi made peace with Emperor, and the Emperor resumed governance of the Empire.” Caina shook her head. “But to this day…Caer Magia is desolate. Whatever the high magi of old did is still active. Anyone who enters the walls of Caer Magia dies within a few moments.”

“After exactly seven hundred and seventy-seven heartbeats, to be precise,” said Halfdan. 

“That is remarkably specific,” said Corvalis.

“The magi have done quiet experiments,” said Halfdan. “The magi of the Fourth Empire left many valuable things in Caer Magia. Weapons of sorcerous power, books holding their arcane secrets. The contemporary Magisterium would dearly love to get its hands upon the relics of their predecessors. But they can’t. Anyone who sets foot within Caer Magia dies within seven hundred and seventy-seven heartbeats. Which for a calm man, comes to less than a quarter of an hour. For a man who is panicked, much less time, and since various undead creatures lurk within the ruins, a man entering the city will become quickly panicked, might not even live out his remaining seven hundred and seventy-seven heartbeats. No one can live long enough to enter Caer Magia and retrieve anything from within the ruins.”

They sat in silence for a moment.

“Until,” said Caina, “someone brought this Dustblade out of Caer Magia?”

Halfdan nodded. “I believe that is what happened.” 

“Perhaps Jurius found one,” said Corvalis, “outside of Caer Magia. One hidden away and forgotten.”

“That would be my thought,” said Halfdan, “except for the reports we have received from Caer Magia. The city is ruined, but there is a town nearby, a place called Calvarium. Mostly farmers and shepherds, but treasure hunters and tomb robbers and smugglers congregate there to seek out old Caerish burial mounds. The Ghosts have an outpost in Calvarium, to keep watch over Caer Magia in case anyone manages to enter the city and live.”

Corvalis nodded. “You sent Claudia there, to train with that physician.”

“The Ghosts of Calvarium reported that someone broke into the city?” said Caina.

“No,” said Halfdan. “But they reported a new cult arising among the Caerish hill tribes. The Caerish provinces have been part of the Empire for a long time, and the Caers of the towns have fully accepted Imperial laws. But the hill tribes still keep their old ways. Which is why the Ghosts of Calvarium thought it odd the tribesmen would worship a new god.”

“Anubankh,” said Caina. “The hill tribes have started worshipping Anubankh, and proclaiming the return of the Kingdom of the Rising Sun?”

Halfdan nodded. “You have the right of it. So. A cult arises near Caer Magia, worshipping Anubankh…and a few months later a madman with a Dustblade attacks the magi of Malarae, claiming that Anubankh will restore the old Maatish empire. You can see why I dislike such a coincidence.” 

“Because coincidences,” said Caina, “are signs of an underlying pattern that you cannot see.” 

“Precisely,” said Halfdan. “And that pattern is dangerous. There are weapons of power in Caer Magia that could lay the world waste.”

“And I assume,” said Corvalis, “you have come to us because you intend us to do something about it?”

“You assume correctly,” said Halfdan. “I had intended to send you to Anshan within the week. If Lord Corbould Maraeus’s plan to crush New Kyre is to work, enough Anshani khadjars have to be persuaded to stop selling their grain to the Kyracians.” 

“The Padishah of Istarinmul has already closed the Starfall Straits to the Kyracians,” said Caina. 

“And that has cut off New Kyre from half of its trade,” said Halfdan. “The lifeblood of New Kyre is its commerce, and that is drying up. But so long as the Anshani sell grain to the Kyracians, the city can feed itself. If Lord Corbould’s plan works, the Empire will strangle New Kyre without losing a single Legionary or ship.”

Corvalis snorted. “Not that Kylon Shipbreaker left the Empire many ships to lose.” 

“No,” said Halfdan. “The entire effort of the Ghosts is focused on persuading, coercing, or bribing the Anshani into cutting off grain sales to New Kyre. Lord Corbould hopes to break New Kyre, but the Emperor and most of the Imperial Curia will be satisfied with forcing the war to a conclusion. So we are focused upon ending the war,” he gestured at the Dustblade, “and then this happens.”

“And you need us,” said Caina, “to find out what is going on.”

“Aye,” said Halfdan. “I would look into it, but the war with New Kyre requires my full attention. You are the only ones available…and you both know a great deal about sorcery. More than either of you would prefer, I imagine. And this is important. The magi of the Fourth Empire had spells and weapons more powerful than anything the magi possess today. Those secrets cannot come to light, and if they do, they must not fall into the hands of the Magisterium.”

“So we are to go to Caer Magia and Calvarium, then?” said Caina.

“As soon as possible,” said Halfdan. “Shaizid can manage the House of Kularus well enough in your absence, and we shall put out the story that Anton Kularus and his mistress went to Istarinmul to negotiate with the coffee merchants there.” He looked at Corvalis. “And you shall get to see your sister again.”

“I look forward to that,” said Corvalis with a smile. Caina would not. Her relationship with Claudia Aberon had only ever been strained at best.

Not surprising, given that Claudia had almost gotten them all killed at Catekharon. But she had shown signs of changing at Mors Septimus, and perhaps her year at Calvarium had taught her a few things. 

“How will we disguise ourselves?” said Caina. “Merchants? Caravan guards?”

Halfdan smiled. “As a magus.”

Caina looked at Corvalis. “I suppose a black robe would give you more space to hide weapons.”

“Not him,” said Halfdan. “You.”

“Me?” said Caina. “Disguised as a magus? That’s rich.” She thought for a moment. “I can’t cast spells.”

“But you can sense sorcery,” said Halfdan, “and that should allow you to pull off the masquerade. Corvalis and Muravin will disguise themselves as your Magisterial Guards, and you will take the name of Rania Scorneus. There is an actual magus of that name, living in Artifel, and you resemble her somewhat. Yet she is unlikely to visit the western Empire for any reason, and the Lord Governor in Calvarium will have records of her name in his register. So she will make a useful identity for you.” 

“Any magi in Calvarium might try to test me,” said Caina.

“Undoubtedly,” said Halfdan. “But the magi of Calvarium are hardly the best and brightest. The First Magus sends those who displease him there.”

“And yet,” said Corvalis, “one of them found his way into the city.”

Halfdan nodded. “And that is what I need you to discover. Perhaps Corvalis is right, and Jurius managed to find a forgotten Dustblade somewhere. But if he did not, if he did get the blade from Caer Magia, if the cult of Anubankh has found some way into the city…then the Empire is in very great danger.”