Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 09 - Ghost in the Surge (36 page)

He stabbed, and golden dead made no move to block. The blade sank into the mutated flesh, the frost quenching the golden fire, and the creature collapsed. Ark ripped his blade free, looking for another target.

But the golden dead had gone motionless. 

All of them stood frozen. Ark looked back and forth, wondering if it was a trick of some kind, but the creatures had not shown any level of cunning. Then the golden fire winked out in the eyes of the golden dead, every single one of them at once.

A few heartbeats later they collapsed motionless. 

Ark looked around, stunned. The golden dead carpeted the flagstones of the Plaza. He prodded one with his sword, but the creature did not react. For that matter, he saw no sign of the golden flames anywhere. The fires had not reappeared.

The silence went on and on.

“She did it,” muttered Ark, looking at the burning rift in the sky.

“Lord Champion?” said one of the Guards. “What…what do we do now?”

“Get one of the magi,” said Ark.

###

Claudia cast another sensing spell, sweeping her hands over the waiting corpses.

Nothing. 

“The sorcery is gone, just…gone,” she said, not quite able to believe it. “The spell is broken.”

Lord Corbould scowled at the golden dead. “Then why is that thing still there?”

He pointed at the gate in the sky.

“It won’t be for much longer,” said Ark. “It’s shrinking.” 

The rift was closing itself, shrinking faster and faster. Another few moments and it would vanish entirely. The golden light vanished from the icy spire, and it began to tremble. 

Her hands curled into tight fists.

Corvalis was up there. If he didn’t get out soon, the rift would close, trapping him in the netherworld. She wanted to run up the spire and help him, but she knew it was futile. The gate would collapse long before she could get even a third of the way up.

The vortex shrank, spinning around the spire, and Claudia bit her lip. 

A dark figure half-stumbled, half fell out of the vortex.

But just one. 

Claudia could not see if it was Caina or Corvalis or the Sage who had exited the gate.

The gate snapped closed, and the crystalline spire shattered.

The dark figure tumbled into space, a shadow-cloak billowing behind. 

Claudia’s hands flew to her mouth.

“Kylon!” Thalastre shouted.

###

Kylon looked at the tumbling figure, and then back at his wife.

“Go!” Thalastre said. Her hair was in disarray, her gown and face smudged from the wrath of her sorcery, but she was unharmed. “You know what to do. I’ll catch you. Go!”

He nodded, rammed his sword into its scabbard, and drew upon the sorcery of air, as much as he could hold.

Then he sprinted up the stairs of the Pyramid in a hurricane blur, shooting past the startled nobles. He veered right, running along the terrace of the pyramid, dodging past statues and shrines, summoning the power of water sorcery to augment his strength.

He felt Thalastre’s power close around him, the winds rising at her command.

The edge of the terrace came, and he jumped, his sorcery augmenting his leap, the winds rising to lift him as Thalastre summoned them.

And he shot from the Pyramid like a stone hurtled from a catapult. 

Any other time, the sensation would have been exhilarating. Or terrifying. Now he was focused on the dark figure tumbling head over heels. He caught a glimpse of Caina’s face, her eyes closed.

He slammed into her at the apex of his leap, and her eyes opened wide with surprise.

He wrapped his arms around her, and they plummeted toward the Agora, moving with speed enough to splatter them across the ground.

But Thalastre’s sorcery of wind howled around them, slowing their descent…

But not enough.

They hit the ground hard, and Caina bounced out of Kylon’s arms. He rolled, summoning the sorcery of water to strengthen him, and came to a stop thirty yards away. Every muscle ached, and every inch of his body throbbed, but he was still alive.

He heaved himself to his feet and staggered across the Agora.

Thalastre reached him first, her skirts in her hands as she ran.

She caught him a hug. “You made it.” 

“You caught me,” said Kylon.

They hurried to where Caina lay motionless. Her eyes were closed, blood streaming down her temple. But she was still alive. 

Others joined them. Ark and Lord Martin, and Claudia Aberon. Lord Corbould and Lord Titus. Tiraedes and the other lords of the Assembly. 

The Emperor himself. 

“It appears the woman was correct, my lord Emperor,” said Tiraedes. 

“Indeed,” said the Emperor.

###

Claudia Aberon gazed at the motionless form of Caina Amalas. 

“She was victorious,” said Lord Titus, but Claudia barely heard him.

Talekhris, Corvalis, and Caina had gone into the rift together, and only Caina had come out.

Corvalis was dead.

“I demand that you arrest this woman at once,” said Corbould.

“Why?” said Titus. “Clearly her warnings were correct.” 

“And without her efforts,” said Kylon, “we would all be dead.”

“She murdered my son,” said Corbould.

“And she killed dozens of Ghosts in Malarae,” said Lord Aeolus. 

“Kill her,” said Corbould. “Now.”

“Perhaps that would be safest,” said Aeolus. 

“No,” said Ark. “Are you blind? I…”

“Enough,” said the Emperor, his voice quiet. “Arrest her and secure her in our embassy. I will decide what to do with her.”

Claudia watched as the Imperial Guards picked up Caina and carried her away.

Corvalis was dead.

She lowered her face and cried, and Martin’s arm closed around her shoulders.

Chapter 26 - If Not For Her

The next day, after the peace with New Kyre had been sealed, Alexius Naerius, Emperor of Nighmar, sat alone in his study in the Imperial embassy.

Through the windows he heard the noise rising from the Agora of Nations as the merchants went about their business, as the slaves labored to repair the damage from the golden dead. 

It was odd. Likely thousands of people had died across the world yesterday, but life still went on. Merchants bought and sold. Men went to their work, and women tended to their families. Yesterday might have been a sorcerous catastrophe unlike any in the history of mortal men, but the children still had to be fed.

Life went on. 

Perhaps it was both the strength and weakness of mankind.

A quiet knock at the door captured his attention. “Yes?”

“My lord Emperor,” said a tribune of the Imperial Guard. “They have answered your summons.”

“Good,” said Alexius. “I will speak to them one by one, please.”

The tribune bowed and went to carry out his commands.

And soon Alexius would need to make a decision. 

“I demand punishment,” said Lord Corbould Maraeus, pacing back and forth before Alexius’s chair. “That woman murdered my son in front of a hundred witnesses.”

“Evidently he was possessed by the spirit of one of the Moroaica’s disciples at the time,” said Alexius.

“That matters not,” said Corbould, smacking his right fist into his left palm. “She raised a hand against a son of House Maraeus, and she must pay for it.” 

Alexius raised his eyebrows. “As I recall, there was little love lost between you and Aiodan.” Though that was true for most of Corbould’s children.

“Indeed,” said Corbould, “but he was still my son.” He stopped pacing. “I will be blunt with you, my lord Emperor. I have always loyally supported you.”

“And I am grateful for it,” said Alexius.

“I know, and for that I owe you candor,” said Corbould. “If you allow that woman to escape punishment, my loyalty may no longer be so unwavering.”

Alexius nodded, and thanked Corbould for his counsel.

Lord Aeolus was next. 

“My advice is that you kill her immediately,” said Aeolus. 

“Then you think she tried to kill me in the Agora?” said Alexius. “That she truly betrayed the Ghosts and the Empire?”

“In truth, I do not know,” said Aeolus in his emotionless voice. “But if there is even the chance she has been twisted by the magi, or enslaved to another sorcerer, we dare not take the risk. Better to kill her and avoid another potential disaster. We almost lost everything yesterday, and the upheaval from the disaster shall sow chaos across the Empire for years to come.”

“The world was almost destroyed yesterday,” said Alexius. “It would seem Caina Amalas saved it.”

“That may be true,” said Aeolus, “but it has no bearing on the governance of the Empire.”

Alexius thanked him and called in his next guest.

“She has saved your life before,” declared Theodosia of the Grand Imperial Opera, one of the Ghost circlemasters of Malarae. “You recall the downfall of Haeron Icaraeus?”

“All too well,” said Alexius. 

“The sorcerer in Haeron’s employ almost worked a spell that would have destroyed Malarae,” said Theodosia. “Caina stopped him before it was too late. She saved everyone in Malarae, and she does not deserve to be accused by that puffed-up fool Lord Corbould.”

“I would trust her with my life,” said Ark, Champion of Marsis. “She saved my wife and son from the Moroaica. When the Istarish invaded Marsis, she rescued my son from their slavers and killed Rezir Shahan. If not for her, my lord Emperor, the Kyracians and the Istarish would rule in Marsis.” 

“I have heard that,” said Alexius. “Halfdan told me.”

He felt a pang. Halfdan had been a reliable friend for decades. What would Alexius do without him?

“If our nations were still at war,” said Kylon, High Seat of House Kardamnos and Archon of the Assembly, “I would urge you to execute Caina Amalas at once, so that the Empire would be deprived of her skills. Her wit and boldness have saved your Empire from disaster again and again. She killed Rezir Shahan. She stopped Mihaela the Seeker from unleashing glypharmor upon the world. She kept Rhames from using the Ascendant Bloodcrystal to rebuild the Kingdom of the Rising Sun upon the ashes of the Empire. And she slew the Moroaica and saved us all. She deserves your praise and gratitude, not condemnation.” 

His final guest came attended by her priestesses, her eyes flickering with a silver glow.

Unlike the other guests, Alexius rose and greeted her. “Thank you for coming.”

“Customarily,” said the Surge in that eerie threefold voice, “we summon petitioners to our Sanctuary. But since our Sanctuary was laid waste, it seemed a wise time to break tradition. Though I am curious why an Emperor of Nighmar would wish to speak with the Surge.”

Alexius snorted. “Are you not an oracle?”

“I am,” said the Surge, “though I wish to hear your reasons from your own lips.”

“Because a grave decision lies before me,” said Alexius, “and I wish to choose wisely. And it is well known the Surge has the power to see potential futures. Will you grant me your counsel?”

“I shall,” said the Surge.

“If I spare the life of Caina Amalas, what will come to pass?” said Alexius.

“Your closest allies will lose faith in you,” said the Surge. “They will not forsake you, but when your span of years is done, they will turn upon each other viciously. Civil war will grip the Empire for years after your death, if you spare the Balarigar.” 

“Then she truly is the Balarigar?” said Alexius. “As this sorceress was truly the Moroaica?”

“The Balarigar and the Moroaica are merely titles,” said the Surge. “Names. But we call the flower with a sweet fragrance and sharp thorns a rose, and its nature does not change based upon what name we give it. We call the demon-slayer and the liberator the Balarigar. The title is irrelevant. Caina Amalas has done the things that make her the Balarigar.”

Alexius took a deep breath. “And if I execute her?”

“You will surely die.”

Alexius frowned. “Her friends will take revenge upon me?”

“No,” said the Surge. “But if you execute her, you will die. Malarae will burn, and your Empire shall fall.”

“Do you know why?” said Alexius, shuddering. For thirty-five years he had tried to keep peace in the Empire, and he had been mostly successful. But to hear that one death could undo everything he had worked to build…

But he already knew that, did he not? Even the Emperor of Nighmar could not control the future, and the death of one woman could set off a chain of events no one could foresee.

Perhaps not even the Surge.

“Darkness,” said the Surge. “Candles in the desert, and vials of tainted poison. A broken lock, and a king in exile. That is all I can see. I fear I can say no more.” 

Alexius nodded. “Thank you.”

The Surge tilted her head to the side. “You already know what you must do, do you not?”

“I do,” said Alexius, “but that does not make it any easier.” He raised his voice. “Bring her, please. My lady, I thank you for your counsel.”

The Surge and her attendants departed, and a few moments later the Imperial Guards returned with Caina Amalas.

She still wore the clothes of a caravan guard, though they had been cleaned and she had been bathed, her wounds bandaged. Her blond hair was going black at the roots, and her blue eyes held a dull disinterest as they looked at him. 

The apathy of grief.

Oh, but the Emperor knew it well. He had known it over and over again during his long life.

“Leave us,” said Alexius.

The Guards hesitated.

“Leave us,” repeated Alexius. “If she wanted me dead, I would have died long ago.”

Caina blinked, a flicker of curiosity pushing its way through the apathy.

The Guards bowed and withdrew, though they did not look pleased.

For a moment Alexius and Caina regarded each other in silence.

“Did Halfdan ever tell you?” said Alexius at last.

Caina blinked. “Tell me what, my lord Emperor?”

“How he joined the Ghosts.”

She almost smiled. “No. It…was a game between us. When I asked, he would tell a different story every time. Sometimes an outrageous lie, and sometimes a cunning story. I would have to find the errors. But he never told me the truth.”