Ghost in the Inferno (Ghost Exile #5) (37 page)

Caina turned towards Kylon, but he was already moving.

###

Kylon drew upon all his sorcerous power. His senses crawled with the power snarling around him, the clean thrum of Annarah’s spells, the furious, yet deadened emotions of the Immortals, the rage and terror battling within Rolukhan. He also felt the nagataaru coiled within Rolukhan, and sensed the dark spirit’s rage and fear. 

It knew the danger Annarah represented, even if Rolukhan himself did not. The nagataaru was right to fear her. Around her Kylon sensed the same sort of strange power he felt within the valikon itself, power that could kill the nagataaru. Something clicked, and a crossbow bolt shot over the battle. Nerina’s quarrel blurred over the Immortals and slammed into Rolukhan’s chest. For an instant Kylon thought that the Master Alchemist would come to an anticlimactic but deserved end, slain at the hand of the mad locksmith whose life he had blighted. 

The bolt shattered against Rolukhan’s gold-trimmed white robes. They had been imbued with the strength of steel, no doubt thanks to some alchemical process or another. Rolukhan himself didn’t even notice the shot, his full attention upon Annarah. Shadows and purple flame lashed from him, shattering against the white light blazing from Annarah’s pyrikon, while the loremaster sent more bursts of white fire at him. The loremaster’s fire harmed neither the living Immortals nor the Undying, but Rolukhan flinched from it, his shadow closing around him to ward away the flames. 

In that chaos, Kylon attacked. 

He hurtled though the air, shooting over the black helms of the charging Immortals, and landed behind their front rank. The valikon spun in his hands, and he knocked two Immortals from their feet. Morgant and Nasser darted into the gap, Morgant slashing with his black dagger, Nasser punching with his gloved fist. An Immortal lunged at Nasser, but Laertes moved into the gap, catching the scimitar upon his shield and thrusting with his broadsword. His blade crunched into the Immortal’s armpit, and the wounded warrior reeled back. Kylon took the opportunity to swing the valikon, and drove the ghostsilver weapon through the chain mail covering the Immortal’s neck.

The Immortal warrior went down, and Kylon drove deeper into the press, trying to hack his way to Rolukhan. One thrust from the valikon would end this battle. Rolukhan’s altered robes would not protect him from the valikon, and the sword’s ghostsilver blade would penetrate his protective spells. 

Yet Kylon found himself forced back, step by step.

There were simply too many Immortals. Worse, the golden fire around their blades made them devilishly effective against the undead. The Undying had to close and grapple with an Immortal. The Immortals only had to touch their blades to the Undying, and the golden flame unraveled the undead into sand. Kylon suspect many of the undead were eagerly destroying themselves, hoping to escape the bondage of the bloodcrystal in Caina’s fist. He could not blame them for that, but it meant the Immortals were slowly winning the battle. 

Nor did it seem that Annarah was winning hers. Power snapped and snarled back and forth between the loremaster and the Master Alchemist, but Rolukhan was proving the stronger. He felt Annarah’s spells weakening beneath Rolukhan’s furious barrage. Perhaps if Annarah had been rested, if she had not spent the last century and a half trapped in the netherworld, she might have been able to overcome Rolukhan. 

Kylon sensed her wards crumple further, and the Immortals drove him back step by step. 

###

Caina watched the fighting, trying to think of something to do. 

No ideas came to her, and she could not fight while carrying the bloodcrystal. If Rolukhan got his hands on the thing, they were finished. Though it looked like they would be dead soon enough, and Rolukhan could claim the crystal at his leisure. 

“I calculate,” said Nerina, reloading her crossbow yet again, “a very good chance that we are going to die here.” He bolts did nothing against Rolukhan, so she had instead taken to shooting Immortals. So far she had accounted for five of them. 

“How good of a chance?” said Caina.

“About twenty-six in twenty-seven,” said Nerina. “Maybe twenty-four in twenty-five.”

Malcolm grunted. “That sounds about right. At least the others got clear.” 

Caina nodded. With luck, Najar and the rest of the slaves could escape the Inferno before Rolukhan regained control of the fortress. She looked around again, trying to think of something, anything that she could do. 

“You!” said Malcolm.

Caina whirled and saw a dark shadow hobble towards them, a shadow wearing chain mail and a sand-colored robe…

Azaces.

He had been wounded several times, dark patches marking his robes, dried blood covering a gash in his forehead. Malcolm lifted his hammer, but Nerina did not raise her crossbow. Azaces walked towards them, wobbling a bit. His two-handed scimitar was in its sheath over his shoulder, and in in his right hand he held something by its handle, a cylindrical shape about three feet long.

An amphora.

Specifically, a sealed amphora of Hellfire. 

“Don’t do anything,” Caina told the others. “If he drops that we’re dead.” 

“He is fighting for them,” said Malcolm. 

“No,” said Caina. “No, look at his wounds. Those are scimitar wounds.” Azaces stopped a dozen steps away, the amphora of Hellfire clinking against the stone floor. He took a deep breath, a shudder going through his frame. “For the gods’ sake don’t lean on that amphora.”

Azaces flinched, nodded, and straightened up.

“The horn,” said Caina, her mind racing. Something started to click together in her thoughts. “Rolukhan’s not controlling you any longer, is he?”

Azaces pointed at Annarah. The loremaster struggled against the Master Alchemist, the white light of her spells blazing against the darkness. Caina could sense that Rolukhan was the stronger of the two. Annarah was putting up a ferocious defense, but the Master Alchemist would simply outlast her. If Morgant and Kylon and Nasser reached Rolukhan first, that might change things, but the Immortals were holding out against the undead assault. 

“She did it, didn’t she?” said Caina. “When she attacked Rolukhan. It broke his concentration, and he’s not directly controlling the Immortals any longer. The others obey Rolukhan out of fear or habit…but you, you’re not an Immortal any more, are you?”

He nodded again, more vigorously. 

“Then who are you?” said Nerina. “If you are not an Immortal, who are you truly?”

He pointed at Nerina, and then at Malcolm, and then at himself. 

“What does that mean?” said Malcolm.

“If he had wanted to kill us, husband,” said Nerina, “he need only have thrown that Hellfire over us while our backs were turned.” 

Azaces pointed at the amphora, and then at Rolukhan himself.

“A splendid idea,” said Malcolm, “but we have no way of getting it at him. If we throw it from here, we shall burn up some Immortals, and that will be that.” 

“A pity we do not have another catapult,” said Nerina. “At this range the shot would be easy to calculate.”

“Or some other method of clearing the Immortals from our path quickly,” said Malcolm. 

Quickly…

Caina looked at the bloodcrystal blazing in her fist and felt a chill. 

The Subjugant Bloodcrystal brought death to anyone who touched it without proper protection.

So what would happen if she touched the evil thing to an Immortal?

The thought revolted her. The bloodcrystal was a thing of necromancy, of the vilest sorcery. Yet if she had a sword or a crossbow or a ballista, she would have used that without hesitation to kill the Immortals. For that matter, she had used Hellfire to kill Immortals in the past, and Hellfire was a thing of sorcery as well. Besides, if she did not act now, Kylon was going to die.

They were all going to die. 

“Azaces,” said Caina. “Follow me.” 

He looked at her, nodded, and picked up the amphora in one hand. 

Caina ran towards the struggling Immortals, the Subjugant Bloodcrystal low in her left hand. Azaces followed, his face tight with pain and exhaustion. Both Malcolm and Nerina ran after him, which was probably bad, but there was no time to tell them to turn back, and they would be no safer anywhere else. The nearest Immortal cut down one of the Undying, the withered corpse crumbling into transmuted sand, and raised his blade to kill Caina.

She slapped the bloodcrystal against his chest. 

There was a flash of green light, and the Immortal simply fell over. The bloodcrystal had stolen away his life in an instant. It was the fastest Caina had ever seen anyone die. The Subjugant Bloodcrystal pulsed with green fire in her hand, its hideous aura sharpening, and Laeria’s gloating whispers grew louder in Caina’s head. Her stomach twisted, and she wanted to throw up.

Yet she pressed deeper into the fray. Before the Immortals realized what was happening, she killed a dozen of them, the crystal’s cold touch stealing away their lives. The Immortals started to turn, facing the new threat, and Caina killed five more in that instant, bringing her within a few yards of the catapult. Rolukhan stood atop it, exchanging spells with Annarah, his face twisted in a snarl of inhuman glee and fury. 

“Azaces!” shouted Caina. 

Azaces raised the amphora over his head. In the same moment, an Immortal stepped behind him, scimitar drawn back. Before Caina could shout a warning, the Immortal drove his scimitar into Azaces’s back. The Sarbian warrior let out a strangled, gurgling groan, and dropped the amphora from his hand. 

It spun end over end, tumbling across the floor. 

Nerina screamed, and the Immortal who had stabbed Azaces fell, one of Nerina’s crossbow bolts jutting from his neck. 

The amphora hit the floor lid-first and bounced. By some miracle it flipped and landed upon its base, rocking back and forth, its broken lid gone. Within Caina saw the crimson Hellfire, its glow brightening as the elixir reacted to the air.

It was going to explode. 

Caina didn’t know if Hellfire could destroy a Subjugant Bloodcrystal, but she was standing close enough that she might find out in the instant before she burned to death. 

###

Kylon killed another Immortal and saw Caina standing a few feet away.

He didn’t know how she had gotten so close, but an aisle of dead Immortals marked her passage. Azaces collapsed behind her, Nerina and Malcolm standing a few yards away. Directly in front of her an amphora rocked upon its base, an amphora surrounded by gathering arcane power, an amphora filled with glowing red liquid…

Hellfire that was about to explode.

Suddenly Kylon knew what he had to do.

He seized the handle of the amphora with his free hand, drawing upon all the strength of water sorcery as he spun. Caina shouted his name, but he kept moving, even as he felt the sorcery within the amphora reach a dangerous level. 

A flicker of crimson flame appeared in the lip of the amphora and Kylon flung the container like a discus. It shot over the melee and towards Rolukhan atop the catapult.

It missed him entirely. 

It did, however, shatter against the catapult’s arm, spraying crimson liquid all over the arm, the rest of the catapult, the surrounding Immortals, and Rolukhan himself. 

An instant later the Hellfire exploded in a snarling column of crimson flame. 

The blast of hot air struck Kylon across the face like a fist, and he stumbled back, trying to keep his balance. Caina’s right hand curled around his arm, and he was vaguely aware that she had her left arm thrust out, trying to keep the bloodcrystal away from him. It must have made for a comical sight. 

A hideous scream rang out, and Kylon saw a shape wreathed in crimson flames leap from the burning catapult. Rolukhan staggered back and forth, pawing at himself, horrible screams bursting from his throat. The fire should have killed him. It would have killed most men, but the nagataaru was regenerating his wounds, keeping him alive as the Hellfire chewed into his flesh and turned his robes to ash. 

Rolukhan slammed into the railing, still screaming, and lost his balance.

Thalastre’s murderer fell with terrible shriek, plummeting into the cylindrical shaft. 

Right towards the Hellfire engine.

###

“Oh, no,” said Caina. “No, no, no.”

She dashed forward, looking over the railing just in time to see Rolukhan fall like a blazing comet into the Hellfire engine four hundred feet below.

He slammed into it and disappeared into the maze of glasswork and pipes. An instant later of crimson fireball the size of an ox burst from the machine, and Caina felt a tremor go through the arcane aura of the device. More flames erupted from the sides of the machine, and she felt the next tremor through the floor beneath her boots. 

“Oh, that’s not good,” said Caina. 

“What’s happening?” croaked Kylon, hurrying to the railing.

“The Hellfire engine,” said Caina, a burst of sparks erupting from the machine. The light illuminated the galleries spreading off from the base of the chamber, galleries that held thousands upon thousands of amphorae of Hellfire. “You knocked Rolukhan into it. That means…”

The Hellfire machine blazed with a sudden plume of dazzling red light, and a tongue of flame erupted from the side, splashing across the curved stone wall. The fire chewed into the stone, and one of the shelves in the nearby gallery collapsed. A dozen Hellfire amphorae fell to the floor, and three of them shattered, puddles of Hellfire spreading around them. A hideous whine came from the machine, the crimson light in its depths burning brighter. 

“Just like the Craven’s Tower,” said Kylon.

“Worse,” said Caina. There had been only a few hundred amphorae of Hellfire in the Craven’s Tower, and that had been enough to blast through the curtain wall and rip down half of the tower itself. There were thousands of Hellfire amphorae down there, to say nothing of the deadly arcane forces bound within the engine itself. She looked to see if any of the acolytes remained to control the machine, but they likely had fled when Rolukhan called the Immortals to arms. “Much, much worse.”