Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 09 - Ghost in the Surge (17 page)

“You may rely upon my aid as well, Lord Aeolus,” said Thalastre. “I wish to see peace between our nations, and I owe a debt to Sicarion and his mistress. Their meddling with the sorcerous relics of Caer Magia killed many innocent Kyracians, and almost slew me. I should like to see that debt repaid with interest.”

Aeolus raised his pale eyebrows. “As you dealt with the Legionaries who attacked Kyrant?”

Thalastre offered a chilly smile. “They shouldn’t have attacked my father’s stronghold.”

“Clearly,” said Aeolus. “Very well. We shall do what we must. If you can prove to my satisfaction that Sicarion, not Caina, killed Aiodan Maraeus and the Ghosts of Malarae, then I shall reconsider the death warrant. Until then, it stands. The lives of millions are at stake, and if the life of Caina Amalas is a necessary sacrifice for peace, then it is a sacrifice I will gladly make.” 

Three days later they left Malarae with the remnants of the western Imperial fleet, escorting the Emperor and the Lord Archon as they sailed to New Kyre.

Chapter 11 - The Venatorii

“I suggest we remain here for now,” said Talekhris, tucking his jade mask into a pocket of his loose coat. “The Legionaries are going from house to house, searching for a blond, blue-eyed young woman named Anna Callenius. Dozens of wild stories are flying around, but it seems that she murdered the new Lord Governor.”

“Ranarius,” said Caina, looking at the dead Legionary. “He possessed the Lord Governor and attacked me, and I wound up killing him.”

“Ah,” said Talekhris. “That explains much. The Moroaica has used that sort of tactic before to discredit her enemies. It is remarkable that you managed to defeat Ranarius. When we arrived in Marsis and saw the chaos, I feared that you had been killed.”

“I’m not dead yet,” said Caina. “Thank you for your aid, by the way.” Corvalis moved to her side, the ghostsilver spear in hand. Harkus waited behind the Sage, calm as ever. “Sicarion would have killed us both if you had not arrived.”

Talekhris grimaced. “I only wish I could have killed him. The man is as resilient as a cockroach, and does not hesitate to flee when overmatched.” 

“He will come for us again,” said Corvalis.

“Undoubtedly,” said Talekhris. “Where is Halfdan? I was unable to find him. I only located you by following Sicarion here, and it is vital that I speak with Halfdan at once. Additionally, if Ranarius set you up for the Lord Governor’s murder, we will need Halfdan’s influence to keep the Legions from arresting you.”

Again that wave of searing grief shot through Caina. For a moment she was eleven years old again, weeping as Maglarion cut her father’s throat in the darkness below the hills.

“He’s dead,” she said, her voice glassy calm. “Sicarion stabbed him in the back at the safe house. He would have killed me, but I set the warehouse on fire to escape.” 

“I see,” said Talekhris. “I am sorry for your loss, Ghost. He was a wise and capable man, and we shall miss his counsel in the days to come.”

“If Halfdan is indeed dead,” said Harkus, “we should remain here until we have secured transport from the city. The Legions will not search the vaults below the Citadel for some time yet, but they will sooner or later.”

“Probably sooner,” said Caina. “There are Ghosts among the tribunes and centurions of the Legions, and some of them fought against Naelon Icaraeus’s slavers. They know the vaults are here.” 

“Perhaps we should move to a different location,” said Talekhris.

“Not yet,” said Harkus. He turned to face Caina. “Ghost, with your agreement, I think you should remain here for now. If we try to move through the streets at night, it will look suspicious. Other members of the Order are in Marsis, and they will bring us supplies. Once the sun is up, we can travel to the harbor and secure a ship.”

“I already have,” said Corvalis. “Maltaer is waiting for us in the harbor.”

Harkus frowned. “I thought he would have fled.”

Talekhris grunted. “We paid him enough gold to wait. He will wait.”

It did not surprise Caina to find out that Maltaer had accepted payment from Lord Titus, Halfdan, Corvalis, and now the Ventaroii. The man was nothing if not a clever opportunist. 

Harkus seemed unconvinced, but bowed. “As you wish, Sage. I will return with supplies.”

“Thank you,” said Talekhris. “We’ll attempt to make our way to the harbor and Maltaer’s ship at dawn.”

Harkus bowed again and disappeared into the darkness. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” said Caina, turning towards one of the undamaged pillars. “It has been…it has been a rather long day…”

A hint of chagrin went over Talekhris’s face. “Yes, of course. Please, sit. I would offer you more comfortable accommodations, but I fear I have none available at the moment.”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Caina. She sat against the pillar, the rock wall cool against her back, and Corvalis sat next to her. She wanted to slump to the floor and sleep for days. Or bury her face in Corvalis’s chest and weep. 

But not until she had stopped the Moroaica.

Not until she had Sicarion’s head for what he had done to Halfdan.

“You seem more lucid than last we met,” said Caina at last.

“I have Harkus to thank for that,” said Talekhris. “I left him with instructions. If one of my resurrections left me unable to function, he was to kill me. With luck, when I returned to life, I would retain more of my memories.” He tapped the side of his head. “Harkus staved in my skull with a sledgehammer.”

“That…was kind of him,” said Corvalis.

Talekhris offered a smile. “The experience was not one I would recommend. But I suspect it forced the spells binding me to focus upon rebuilding my mind. I have recovered most of my memory. Not all of it – I can remember little of what passed before I met the Moroaica in Catekharon all those years ago. But of the nine centuries since, I remember most of what has transpired. Including my many deaths at the hands of the Moroaica and her pet assassin.” 

“Your message to Halfdan,” said Caina. “You said you knew how to kill the Moroaica permanently.”

“Yes,” said Talekhris with a sigh. “I have carried the knowledge for centuries. But the knowledge…it was in separate pieces, and I could never remember all of them at once.” He shook his head. “Fool that I am, it has taken me three hundred years to realize the truth.”

“You know where her canopic jars are?” said Caina. 

“She doesn’t have them,” said Talekhris. “I suspect she did when she escaped the pharaoh’s tomb in Maat of old, but no longer. She has transcended them, become so powerful that she can take another body at will.” He reached into his coat, pulled out a pair of wooden tubes, slid his Sage’s rod into them, and assembled the pieces into a cane. “As she tried to do with you.” 

Caina frowned. “I thought a necromancer had to have a physical anchor in the material world to draw his spirit back after death.”

“Most necromancers do,” said Talekhris, leaning on his cane with a grunt. “But the Moroaica is so powerful that her spirit exists simultaneously in the material world and the netherworld, like a rift in the walls between the worlds. It is the source of her tremendous arcane strength and her immortality.”

“Then how do we kill her?” said Caina. 

“By bringing her physically to the netherworld,” said Talekhris, “and killing her there.”

Caina had visited the netherworld in the flesh last year, forced to do so by the renegade Alchemist Ibrahmus Sinan. It had been a strange, terrifying place, haunted by malevolent spirits, her thoughts capable of reshaping the very land itself. Only Jadriga’s aid had kept the spirits of the netherworld from killing Caina. 

“Why would that work?” said Caina.

“Because that will remove her advantage,” said Talekhris. “Entering the netherworld in the flesh would force her spirit solely into the netherworld. If she is killed there, she will have no means to return to the physical world, and her spirit will go to whatever awaits it beyond the netherworld.”

Corvalis barked his harsh laugh. “Well, that’s simple enough. We’ll just have to lure her into the netherworld. I’m sure she’ll cooperate.”

“No subterfuge is required, Master Corvalis,” said Talekhris. “The Moroaica will enter the netherworld in the flesh of her own volition,” he glanced at the ceiling, “and very soon, I fear.”

“Why would she do that?” said Corvalis. “Surely she is aware of her weakness.”

“Because,” said Caina, “of her great work.”

Talekhris nodded. 

“What is the great work?” said Caina.

“You know,” said Talekhris. “She has told you, many times.” 

“The destruction of the world and its reforging,” said Caina, Jadriga’s furious words echoing in her thoughts. “An end to suffering, to pain, to famine, to death. And then once the world is remade, she will make war upon the heavens themselves, make the gods pay for the suffering of mankind.”

Talekhris nodded again.

“But how is she going to accomplish this?” said Caina. “Can she truly make war upon the gods?”

“I doubt it,” said Talekhris. “But the magnitude of the sorcery required will likely destroy the world. She needs three things to cast her great work.” He gestured with one hand. “The Staff of the Elements, the ashes of a phoenix spirit, and the Ascendant Bloodcrystal. In the last two years, she has obtained all three of the necessary tools.” 

“Sicarion said that,” said Caina. “That she would use the phoenix ashes and the power of the elemental princes to raise the dead. But surely that would take a vast quantity of phoenix ashes?”

“Phoenix ashes can kindle a fire,” said Talekhris, “and fires spread. With the power provided by the Ascendant Bloodcrystal and the elemental princes, she can spread the flames of the phoenix spirit across the world and raise uncounted millions of the dead.”

“But that would be disastrous,” said Caina. She remembered what had happened when Sinan drank his unfinished Elixir Rejuvenata, how it had transformed him into a grotesque, ravening nightmare. “She would create monsters. Millions upon millions of monsters.”

“Indeed,” said Talekhris. “She has convinced herself otherwise, I think. Perhaps she believes she will create millions of immortals free of suffering and hunger. And once she has done that, she will attempt to rip open a gate to the realms beyond the netherworld. If she is successful, the resultant backlash of force will almost certainly destroy this world. Assuming anything is left after the elemental princes awaken.” 

“Which is why she is physically entering the netherworld,” said Caina. “If she is going to open a gate to the seat of the gods, she will have to do it from there.”

“The spell requires the additional power of the netherworld,” said Talekhris. “For the netherworld is the source of sorcery, and within the netherworld spells that would be impossible here become feasible.” 

“Why cast the spell in New Kyre?” said Caina. “Does it have something to do with the war?”

“No,” said Talekhris. “The barrier between the mortal world and the netherworld is thinner in New Kyre, specifically in a place called the Pyramid of Storm. Do you know of the Surge?”

“The oracle of the Kyracian people,” said Caina. “Kylon mentioned her.”

“The Surge passes her mantle of power from generation to generation,” said Talekhris. “The thinness of the barrier between worlds within the Pyramid allows her to see the shadows of the future, to observe far-off events.”

“Then she is dead,” said Caina. “Jadriga likely killed her.” Perhaps they could use that to rouse the Kyracians against the threat in their midst. 

“Most likely,” said Talekhris.

“Perhaps the Emperor is safe,” said Corvalis. “If Jadriga is casting the great work, she’ll be vulnerable. She’ll want Sicarion to protect her, so he will stay away from the Emperor and the Archons.”

“No. I think Sicarion will go after the Emperor as a distraction,” said Caina. “It’s exactly what the Moroaica would tell him to do.” 

Corvalis snorted. “Then our task is easy enough. Find a sorceress of immense power, defeat her, and save the world and the Emperor in the process. Is that it?” 

“Essentially,” said Caina. 

“Well,” said Corvalis at last. “When do we start?”

“Soon,” said Talekhris. “After Harkus returns with fresh supplies, we will set out for New Kyre.”

“The Legions will try to stop us,” said Caina. “As will the Ghosts of Marsis…if Sicarion and Ranarius left any of them alive.” She thought of Jiri and Radast, of Hiram Palaegus and Ducas, the other Ghosts of the Marsis circle that she knew. Had Sicarion killed them all?

More blood on his hands.

More blood Caina would avenge, if she could. 

“They will,” said Talekhris, “but they cannot stop my powers.”

“Don’t kill anyone,” said Caina, getting to her feet with alarm. “Both the Ghosts and the Legions are only doing their duty. For all they know, I did kill Aiodan Maraeus in cold blood.”

“Of course not,” said Talekhris. “I started down this path to stop the Moroaica, to save innocent lives, not take them. Though my errors have resulted in more deaths than I wish to remember.” He rubbed his face, and for a moment he looked tired. Like a man who had indeed spent nine hundred years pursuing his enemy across a dozen nations. “But the chance to end it is now within our reach. If we follow the Moroaica into the netherworld when she casts her spells, we can kill her.”

Caina nodded. “Thank you again for your aid.”

“I have fought her for far longer than you,” said Talekhris, “but she has impacted your life as much as she has mine, and you have the right to face her alongside me. More, I welcome your aid, and that of Corvalis. Perhaps together we can at last rid the world of her evil.”

“Perhaps we can,” said Caina. 

Yet the cold dread within her did not budge. Ranarius had killed all those people in Varia Province. Sicarion had killed Halfdan, and claimed to have killed many more Ghosts. 

How many more would die before they stopped Jadriga?

Of course, if they did not stop Jadriga, then the entire world might die.  

“We had best try to get some rest,” said Caina, “before we head to Maltaer’s ship.”