Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 06 - Ghost in the Forge (26 page)

Caina ran her fingers along the bottom edge of the cuirass, the potent sorcery within the steel making her skin crawl. Her fingers found the groove, and she felt a flicker in the glypharmor’s aura. The cuirass swung open like the doors of a wardrobe, and the helmet rotated back with a metallic groan. The glypharmor’s chest was hollow, the steel lined with hundreds of hieroglyphs, and Caina saw a pair of footrests.

She took a deep breath, gripped the edge of the interior compartment, and pulled herself up. Caina caught her balance and stood within the armor, her boots sinking into the footrests. 

“Now what?” said Caina.

“There are bars inside the arms,” said Ardasha. “Grip them, and the glypharmor will heed your will.”

Caina reached into the arms, her fingers curling around the bars, and squeezed. For a moment nothing happened. 

Then the cuirass swung shut with a clang, the helmet dropping over Caina’s head, darkness and silence swallowing her. She felt as if she had sealed herself in a coffin, and she remembered lying chained atop that metal table in Maglarion’s lair, the necromancer standing over her with a glittering dagger.

Then a pulse of sorcery surged through the steel, the hieroglyphs filling the gloom with white light…

…and the glypharmor came alive around Caina.

She felt it wrap around her like a second skin. Suddenly she could see the workshop around her with stunning clarity, hear the hiss of the superheated air over the stream of molten metal. The massive shell of steel felt like a part of her, like a second body around her body of flesh. 

A body of steel that felt neither pain nor weakness, a body stronger than blood and bone and muscle.

Much stronger. 

“How do I move?” said Caina.

“As if you were walking,” said Ardasha. “The armor reads your thoughts, and acts in response to your will.”

Caina took a hesitant step forward. She expected the motion to feel cumbersome. Yet she moved as lightly as if she were naked. She took another step, and then another, and it felt no different than strolling along a street in Malarae. 

“This is…” said Caina, trying to work moisture into her dry throat, “this is remarkable.”

She could not help but admire Mihaela’s skill. For all its evil origins, the glypharmor was the work of an unmatched genius. Neither Maglarion nor Kalastus nor Ranarius had ever made anything like this.  

“It is,” said Ardasha, voice quiet. “I thought I would help Mihaela make something wonderful. Instead she used me to create a horror. But together we can stop her.”

“How much stronger will this make me?” said Caina.

“Much stronger, Balarigar,” said Ardasha. “The glypharmor has the strength of a hundred men.”

“Let me try something,” said Caina.

She came to a stop, turned, and moved in one of the unarmed attacks Akragas had taught her years ago.

Her steel fist slammed into the cuirass of a suit of black glypharmor, striking with enough force to lift the armor a few inches off the ground. It toppled backwards and struck the floor with a deafening clang, the stone tiles of the floor cracking into dust and splinters, a tremor shooting up Caina’s steel feet.

She felt her body of flesh blink in surprise. That suit of glypharmor weighed tons, and she had sent it to the ground with a single punch. 

“The Hall of Assembly,” said Caina. “We have to hurry. Mihaela will have started by now.”

She strode towards the door to the Seekers’ quarters. The door was far too small to accommodate the glypharmor or the Forge, and Mihaela must have used a different route to move the Forge to the Hall of Assembly.

Caina had no time to search for it.

Steel fists ripped a gaping hole in the stone wall, and she strode through without slowing.

###

“To the foe!” roared the Imperial Guard tribune, pointing with his sword. “Kill every last one of the mercenaries!”

The Imperial Guards bellowed a battle cry and marched forward in lockstep, shields raised, javelins ready. Saddiq and his mercenaries fanned out on the left, scimitars and shields in hand, the men shouting taunts. 

Corvalis stayed behind them, sword in his right hand, Caina’s ghostsilver dagger in his left. He was an assassin, not a Legionary, and the Imperial Guards had years of experience fighting together as a unit. He would only get in their way. But the Sarbians fought as desert raiders, relying on chaos and disorder, and Corvalis would fight in their midst.

And he could use them as a distraction to hunt down Mihaela.

Basil had asked that of both Corvalis and Kylon. No matter how many men died today, no matter what happened in the Hall of Assembly, Mihaela had to die. She knew how to create the glypharmor. 

“Kill them!” Mihaela’s voice rang over the Hall. “Kill them all!”

A screaming mob of mercenaries charged the Imperial Guards. The mercenaries kept no formation, and they couldn’t have done so, anyway. Hundreds of unconscious men and women, sorcerers and lords and guards both, lay scattered across the Hall’s floor. A lot of them were going to die in the next few moments, Corvalis knew, slain by errant blows in the fighting.

Claudia. He had to find Claudia. 

“Release!” bellowed a centurion of the Guard.

In one smooth motion, the Guards came to a halt, drew back their arms, and flung their javelins. A rain of steel pelted the charging mercenaries, and dozens of them fell with screams. Corvalis expected the mercenaries to break and run beneath the barrage, but the men kept coming.

Perhaps they feared Mihaela more than they feared the Guards.

The mercenaries crashed into the Guards’ line, and steel rang on steel as men fought and shouted and died. Saddiq bellowed a command, whirling his scimitar over his head, and the Sarbians charged into the mercenaries’ flank. Corvalis joined the fighting, his sword and dagger dealing death. A mercenary lunged at him, thrusting with a broadsword, and Corvalis blocked with his sword, sidestepped, and opened the man’s throat with the ghostsilver dagger. Another man took his place, and Corvalis cut him down, and then another, and another.

And then he was clear of the melee. Dozens of mercenaries sprinted past him, making for the fighting, but the rest of the Hall was clear of foes. Corvalis spotted Mihaela standing in the round chamber at the Tower’s heart, her damned machine perched at the edge of the molten pool. Five suits of black glypharmor stood near the giant steel coffin, no doubt created in the time since Corvalis had left the Hall. 

Hopefully Claudia had not been one of them.

Corvalis turned towards the central chamber. If he could get to Mihaela and cut her down, the knowledge of the glypharmor would die with her. And then he could find Claudia and get her away …

White light flared in the suits of glypharmor. The black armor shuddered, trembling…and then four of the suits started forward, the floor trembling beneath their stride.

Corvalis cursed. 

It was over. 

If four of Mihaela’s mercenaries had gotten into the armor, they would rip apart the Imperial Guards and the Sarbians like wolves among a herd of crippled sheep. Corvalis ran for one of the bridges over the molten river. Mihaela had won, but Corvalis might still have a chance to get Claudia away…

He saw a dark blur in the corner of his eye. 

Corvalis threw himself down, and an instant later a black sword tore through the space where his head had been. He rolled back to his feet, sword and dagger before him, and stared into the grinning face of Torius Aberon.

“Brother,” said Torius. “I’m very glad you are here. I would have been disappointed if I didn’t get to kill you myself.”

“You’re going to feed Father into Mihaela’s damned machine,” said Corvalis, backing away. “Turn him into one of those things.”

“I thought you would approve. You have no more love for him than I do. A pity you don’t have any talent,” said Torius, “or else I would do the same to you.”

“But if you’re going to kill Father,” said Corvalis, “then there’s no need to curry his favor by killing me.”

“Very true,” said Torius. “So I’ll just kill you because I don’t like you.” He laughed. “I think I’ll make you beg before I kill you, Corvalis.”

“Try,” said Corvalis. 

He had to end this fight, now, with a single blow. Else he stood no chance against Torius’s sorcery-enhanced strength and speed.

“Gladly,” said Torius, his smile widening as he lifted his sword, and as he did the entrance to the Seekers’ quarters exploded in a spray of shattered stone.

Chapter 26 - Weapons of Sorcery

The door to the Hall of Assembly was not nearly large enough to handle the red glypharmor, but that did not slow Caina in the slightest. 

Her body of steel ripped through the wooden door and the surrounding stone wall as if they were thick cloth, broken chunks of stone raining around her. She felt Ardasha’s mind against hers, their thoughts merging, felt the dead woman’s grief and pain and sorrow.

And her rage, a fury to match Caina’s own. 

Caina strode into the Hall of Assembly, the ground trembling beneath her steel boots. 

A battle filled her sight. The cohort of the Imperial Guard struggled against Mihaela’s mercenaries, driving them back with grim efficiency. But that would not matter. Caina saw four suits of glypharmor striding across the Hall, heedless of the unconscious men and women trampled beneath their steel feet. Once the men in glypharmor reached the fighting, the battle was over. 

But for a moment, the fighting paused as every man stared at Caina in shock.

She saw Mihaela standing near the Forge in the central chamber, stunned alarm on her face.

“Mihaela!” roared Caina and Ardasha in unison. “This ends now!”

###

Torius gaped at the red glypharmor, its hieroglyphs ablaze with white fire, and Corvalis had his chance.

He lunged, sword and dagger reaching for Torius’s throat. 

Torius sensed the danger and jerked aside at the last second. Corvalis’s sword clanged off the black cuirass, but Caina’s dagger gashed Torius’s jaw. His older brother snarled with pain, blood dripping down his neck. Corvalis stabbed again, hoping to land a crippling blow, but Torius’s arm snapped up and deflected the thrust.

“You,” said Torius, “are going to regret that.”

“Mihaela!” roared the red glypharmor, speaking with the voices of two women. “This ends now!” 

Corvalis blinked. One of those voices had an Anshani accent. But the other…

Caina? Gods, had Mihaela turned Caina into glypharmor?

The red glypharmor raced across the Hall, making for Mihaela, and Torius struck. 

Corvalis managed to block the first blow, dodge the second, and parry the third. He jumped out of Torius’s reach, but the battle magus thrust his free hand. Invisible force slammed into Corvalis’s chest and threw him back. He struck the railing of one of the stone bridges and clawed at it for balance.

The canal of molten steel yawned beneath him as Torius strode forward.

###

Caina sprinted forward, Ardasha’s fury echoing inside her head.

Mihaela thrust out her silvery rod and cast a spell. Caina felt a vicious spike of power, and Ardasha screamed as Mihaela’s will hammered into the glypharmor. The armor slowed, its speed ebbing as Ardasha crumbled beneath Mihaela’s psychic assault.

So Caina took over.

She drove the glypharmor forward, the weight of her steel footsteps digging stone chips from the floor. Caina felt the force of Mihaela’s will reaching for her mind, but she brushed aside the assault with a snarl. She had contested with Maglarion, with the Moroaica herself. 

Mihaela would not stop her. 

A stab of fear crossed Mihaela’s face, and the mental assault stopped. 

“Kill her!” bellowed Mihaela, running towards an unused suit of glypharmor. “Damn you, kill her now!”

The four suits of glypharmor turned, ignoring the raging melee, and raced towards Caina. 

###

Kylon danced through the battle. 

Mercenaries surrounded him, but the sorcery of water let him feel their rage and fear…and when they intended to strike. The sorcery of air lent his arms and legs speed, and he dodged their blows and drove his swings faster than their blocks and parries. And the power of water sheathed his storm-forged blade in freezing mist, and a single cut from his blade turned the blood of his foes to ice. 

He cut down another man and sought more enemies. From the corner of his eye he saw Cimon slashing his way through the mercenaries, lightning sparking along his sword. Alcios bellowed commands as he rallied his ashtairoi, his gleaming cuirass spotted with blood. The four suits of glypharmor charged towards the red armor. Kylon wondered who had commandeered it. One of Mihaela’s disgruntled allies, perhaps? 

No matter. The attack had distracted the men in black glypharmor, which gave the Imperial Guards and the others a chance to beat Mihaela’s mercenaries.  If Kylon could cut his way to Mihaela, he could end this…

A familiar aura brushed over his sorcerous senses. The aura brought to mind rotting flesh, clotted blood congealing in the earth, ravens circling over moldering corpses. 

He turned and saw a scarred man in a dark cloak.

“Sicarion,” spat Kylon, raising his mist-wreathed sword. 

“Why, Lord Kylon,” said Sicarion in his rusty voice. He held a sword in his right hand and his serrated black dagger in his left. “Or should I say Lord High Seat? Since your sister lies rotting in the darkness beneath Marsis.”  

“Her death is on your hands,” spat Kylon. “You poured lies into her ears, and you led her to her death.”

Sicarion gave a lazy shrug. “She shouldn’t have been foolish enough to believe me.”

“Is that what you did to Mihaela?” said Kylon. “Is all this another errand for your damned Moroaica?”

Sicarion laughed. “How astute, Lord Kylon! Perhaps you are correct. But you will not live to see the end of it.”

“No,” said Kylon, pointing with his sword, “today you will pay for your treacheries.”

He surged forward, the sorcery of air driving him with the speed of an arrow.

Sicarion jumped to meet him, darkness shimmering around him like a cloak.

###

The black suits of glypharmor charged Caina, and Ardasha’s panic filled her mind. Ardasha had been a slave and a Seeker’s student, not a fighter, and even now the sight of armed men filled her with terror.

But not Caina.

“Be calm,” she said, “and do as I say.”

Her body of steel, fueled by the power of Ardasha’s soul, shifted into one of the unarmed stances Akragas had taught her at the Vineyard. Caina knew how to fight with her hands and feet. But she always preferred to fight with a dagger or a knife, preferred to avoid a direct confrontation with her foes. She was strong and quick, but most men were stronger, and fighting unarmed left her at a grave disadvantage. 

But inside the red glypharmor, that was no longer true.

The first suit of black glypharmor came at her, fist drawn back to strike. The armor moved with no elegance, no skill. Caina supposed the mercenary inside it had always fought with sword and shield. 

The steel fist shot for her face. Caina dodged, her fingers clamping around the black armor’s wrist, and she twisted past. Her foot came up and slammed the black glypharmor in the small of the back, and sent it sprawling to the floor. She wheeled and brought her other foot hammering down, all of Ardasha’s power and the weight of the steel behind it.

The red boot crushed the black helmet like a dried husk, and Caina saw blood pooling beneath the glypharmor. 

She wheeled as the mercenaries in the other three suits attacked.

###

Corvalis threw himself to the side, rolling onto the bridge, and Torius’s sword clanged against the stone railing. The battle magus turned, and Corvalis got his own sword up, blocking three swings in quick succession as he backed away. Again Torius raised his armored hand, lips moving in a spell, and Corvalis jumped backwards and landed on the far side of the bridge.

The blast of invisible force clipped his shoulder, and he stumbled and caught his balance as Torius attacked. Steel rang on steel, and only years of experience and training allowed him to block or dodge each of Torius’s blows.

But Corvalis could not keep this up. Torius was too fast and too strong, and his battle sorcery gave him an advantage that Corvalis could not match. Sooner or later Corvalis would make a mistake, and the fight would be over.

And there would be no one left to save Claudia.

A tremendous clang filled the Hall, and Corvalis saw the suit of red glypharmor destroy one of the black suits, crushing its helmet beneath an armored boot. Torius’s eyes widened, and Corvalis gambled on a strike.

He leaped for his half-brother. 

###

A nimbus of shadow flared around Sicarion, draining the light and heat from the air. 

And as it touched Kylon, he slowed. 

The shadowy aura drained away the sorcery of water and air. He stumbled as he caught his balance, and Sicarion lunged, his sword and dagger gleaming with a faint coat of poison. Kylon ducked under the sword and blocked the dagger. Sicarion pursued, thrusting and slashing, and Kylon backed away. He jumped back, out of the reach of the shadowy nimbus…and suddenly the power of air and water returned to him. 

Sicarion laughed, spinning his dagger in his left hand. “The mighty Kylon Shipbreaker, eh? Not so mighty without his sorcery.”

“Then lay aside your own power,” said Kylon, “and face me.” 

“And why,” said Sicarion, “should I possibly do that?”

He charged at Kylon. The shadowy nimbus swallowed him, draining away his arcane strength.

###

The three remaining suits of black glypharmor charged at Caina. 

“Can this thing jump?” said Caina.

“I…I think so,” said Ardasha, and Caina felt the dead woman’s terror and exhilaration. “I…”

Caina raced to meet her foes and jumped. Her legs of steel threw her into one of the terrific leaps she had seen Kylon and Torius perform in battle against their foes. She soared over the suits of black armor and landed behind them with a thunderous crash. The entire Hall shuddered, the floor splintering beneath her, and the shock knocked hundreds of men off their feet. 

The men in the black glypharmor reeled, and Caina went on the attack. Her foot slammed into the back of a knee, and the glypharmor’s leg folded. Caina hammered her fists upon the helm, and it exploded in a spray of twisted black metal and crimson blood. The glypharmor helmets were two inches thick, impervious to almost all weapons, but Ardasha’s wrath drove Caina’s fists of solid steel.

They struck home like the thunderbolts of the gods. 

The glypharmor fell with a clang, and the remaining two suits attacked Caina. She caught a descending fist in her grasp, spun, and twisted, driving her weight past the black armor. The black glypharmor spun as she twisted, forced to turn by her weight and speed, and the sight of the hulking black titan hopping on one foot was so comical Caina almost laughed. She drove the glypharmor into the second suit, and both tangled together, the men inside struggling to pull their armor free from each other.

One fell, and Caina’s boot hammered down with deadly force.

The remaining black suit attacked Caina, fists swinging like a drunk in a bar fight. She backed away, dodging and blocking with cool precision. Mihaela had never trained her men how to fight while wearing the suits. The glypharmor offered so much raw power that it hardly mattered. But facing a foe who knew how to fight unarmed, who knew how to make use of the armor’s strength, was another matter entirely.

Caina backed away, and at last the black glypharmor overstepped. She seized the armor’s wrist, her boot lashing out. Her opponent’s leg folded, and the black armor toppled forward.

Right into the canal’s molten metal.

Droplets of burning steel splashed everywhere, cooling into beads of hard metal. A hideous scream rose from the black glypharmor, and Caina saw the cuirass and helmet swing open as the mercenary inside tried to escape. That was a mistake. The molten metal rushed into the gap, and the mercenary just had time to shriek before the heat set him aflame and the metal consumed his flesh.

The glypharmor sank, rippling and folding like candle wax.

Caina leaped over the canal and landed on the far side. “Mihaela!” Her voice boomed out with Ardasha’s. “Come and face us!”

She saw Mihaela disappear into the final suit of black glypharmor, the hieroglyphs on its sides flaring with power.

###

Torius parried Corvalis’s frantic attack, and step by step the battle magus drove him back. Torius’s blows came faster and faster, driven by the psychokinetic power of battle sorcery, and Corvalis could barely keep up. Sweat poured down his face, his arms burning with fatigue. He could not hold Torius back much longer…

Then he tripped over the outstretched arm of an unconscious Sage, lost his balance, and fell upon his back.

Torius yelled in triumph and drew back his black sword for the killing strike. 

In that instant Corvalis saw the red glypharmor leap into the air and land in a crouch.

The floor heaved and shook from the impact, the molten canal rippling, and dust fell from the ceiling overhead. The Hall of Assembly groaned, and for an instant Corvalis feared the entire Tower of Study would collapse upon them. 

And Torius stumbled in the midst of his killing stroke.

Corvalis rolled sideways and the sword missed his shoulder by an inch. The blade clanged off the stone floor with a spray of sparks, and Corvalis saw a splinter fly from the weapon.

Torius was strong, and his sorcery lent his muscles even greater strength.

Too much strength, perhaps, for his sword to endure?

Corvalis sprang back to his feet and backed away as Torius pursued.

Step by step, he let Torius drive him towards the wall.

###

Kylon met Sicarion’s attack without hesitation, the dark aura washing over him. 

He laid aside his power and fought with muscle and steel. During the battle of Marsis, the stormdancer Kleistheon had refused to lay down his power when fighting the man who would become the Champion of Marsis. But the Champion, no doubt a student of the Ghost herself, had outwitted Kleistheon and destroyed him with his own sorcery. 

Kylon would not make the same mistake.

He had practiced with the sword every day since the age of five, and even without sorcery, he knew how to make his blade sing. He blocked Sicarion’s thrusts and beat aside his swings. Sicarion’s confident sneer melted away, his mismatched eyes narrowing in concentration. Ancient and powerful he might be, but he was an assassin and a necromancer, not a warrior.