Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 06 - Ghost in the Forge (7 page)

Caina felt her face go blank. 

“Sister,” said Corvalis at last.

“I’m sorry,” said Claudia, blinking. “That was…that was rude, Marina. You saved me from the stone, and…and forgive me. I am overwrought. It’s…this place, the stink of all these unwashed men, and that toad Irzaris drooling over me…” She shook her head. “When I was part of the Magisterium, I wanted to use my powers to help people. I joined the Ghosts to do as you did, to save people like you saved us.” She scowled. “Instead we have been walking for days, and I have to endure the odious attentions of that money-grubbing lecher.” 

Caina shrugged. “We’re spies. This is what we do. You want to help people? Sometimes the right secret taken from the right man can save thousands of lives.”

“Yes,” said Claudia. “Excuse me. I think I shall ride in the wagon for a while.”

She walked off, rejoining the rest of the column, and for a moment Caina stood alone with Corvalis in the patches of light and shadow below the vast branches. 

“Do not mind her,” said Corvalis. “Before Ranarius, she had never left Artifel. She’s not like us. She hasn’t had training in disguise or stealth…”

“I know,” said Caina, not looking at him. “Do you think she’s right?”

“About what?” 

“That,” said Caina, “I seduced you for the Ghosts?”

Corvalis barked his harsh laugh.

“What?” said Caina. 

“I am a penniless former Kindred assassin,” said Corvalis, “and the Kindred want me dead. My father is one of the most powerful men in the Empire, and he also wants me dead.” He smiled. “If you are trying to seduce me for personal gain, you’re doing it wrong.” 

Despite herself, Caina laughed. 

“Come,” said Corvalis. “Let us rejoin the others. If we disappear for too long, there will be talk.”

Caina grinned. “That would only strengthen our disguise.”

“Did I say it would be a bad thing?”

They rejoined the column.

###

Two days later they left the Red Forest and entered hilly country dotted by pine trees, and Caina developed a headache. 

Her skin crawled, and she felt the tingling of arcane force. For an instant she wondered if Claudia had cast a spell over her. But it was too faint for that. It reminded Caina of the mighty spell Kalastus had cast over Rasadda, of the awesome forces the magus had wielded.

She was sensing distant sorcery.

Powerful, distant sorcery. 

“We have almost reached Catekharon,” announced Irzaris. The Catekhari merchant walked at the head of the column with Lord Titus and Halfdan. The merchant’s easy manner had ingratiated him to Lord Titus, and the two had become friends.

It was just as well. Caina doubted Claudia could have handled Irzaris’s attentions with good grace for much longer. 

“Splendid,” said Titus. “A good bed would be welcome. And I must present the Emperor’s message to the Masked Ones.”

Irzaris smiled. “My lord, have you never been to Catekharon before?”

“I fear not, master merchant,” said Titus. “To my knowledge, no lord of the Empire has ever crossed its gates. You Catekhari are not sociable folk. But I have visited the other free cities, and so the Emperor chose me as his Lord Ambassador.” 

Irzaris grinned. “Then you are in for a splendid sight.”

Caina took a step forward, blinked, and shook her head.

“Are you all right, mistress?” said Corvalis, stepping closer. 

“I’m…fine,” said Caina, shaking her head again. The tingling had gotten worse, and her temples throbbed. “Just…I could use some water, that’s all.” 

The road rounded a curve of the hill, and the city of Catekharon came into sight below.

Caina’s eyes widened, and exclamations went up from Lord Titus and his men. 

“Gods,” breathed Corvalis. “That lake…”

“It’s called a caldera,” said Claudia, voice soft. “In ancient times, a volcanic mountain stood there. It exploded with enough force to destroy the mountain entirely…and the resultant crater became the lake.”

“Just,” muttered Caina, “as Old Kyrace was destroyed.” 

A brilliant blue lake, perhaps four miles across, stretched below. An island filled the center of the lake, an enormous white tower rising from its heart. Stone terraces adorned the rest of the island, supporting elaborate palaces built of wood with peaked roofs, their walls carved with intricate figures. A dozen different bridges connected the island to the ring-shaped shore. A wall of white stone, its face adorned with sigils of gleaming silver, encircled the lake, and between the wall and the shore stood a city, a hodgepodge of houses and temples and warehouses and tenements built in the architectural styles of every nation upon earth.

“Behold Catekharon,” said Irzaris, “the City of the Artificers.”

A strange cherry-red glow rose from the ring of the city and the bridges connecting it to the island in the crater lake. 

Halfdan frowned. “Is the city on fire?”

“Only in a sense,” said Irzaris. “Look closer.”

Caina felt her eyes grow wider.

The bridges were actually aqueducts connecting to the central island, joining in a series of concentric rings running through the outer city. But water did not flow through those aqueducts and canals.

Molten steel, glowing white-hot, filled the channels. 

Rivers of liquid steel encircled the City of the Artificers. 

Chapter 6 - The City of the Artificers

Caina gazed at the molten steel flowing through the canals.

If the Masked Ones possessed the power to do that…then perhaps their claim of a mighty weapon was no bluff. 

“How is that even possible?” said Lord Titus, wonder in his voice. “Surely all the coal in the world, burned at once, could not melt that much steel. And keep it liquid, for that matter.” 

Irzaris shrugged. “I am no sorcerer, my lord. But from what I understand, a great spirit of fire was once imprisoned below the volcano. Its rage destroyed the mountain, and when the Scholae fled here after the fall of the Kingdom of the Rising Sun, they discovered the spirit sleeping below the lake. They bound it to fuel their sorceries.”

Caina shared a dismayed look with Corvalis and Claudia. 

If Irzaris was right, that meant the Masked Ones had bound a greater fire elemental. Ranarius had tried to awaken the greater earth elemental within the Stone of Cyrioch, and if he had been successful, he would have destroyed the city and killed countless thousands. And centuries ago, the stormsingers of Old Kyrace had bound a greater fire elemental beneath their island.

The breaking of that binding had been the destruction of Old Kyrace. 

“I fear this is where we part ways, my lord,” said Irzaris. “My warehouse is on the western end of the city, and it is easier to steer wagons outside the walls than within.”

Titus offered a gracious nod. “Farewell, Master Khaltep. If you ever travel to the Empire, seek me out. I may have a use for a man of your talents.” 

Irzaris bowed again, and his wagons and Catekhari guards broke off from Lord Titus’s column and circled around the city. The Imperial Guards continued towards the eastern gates of Catekharon, the golden eagle of the Emperor flying on its purple banner overhead.

A wave of dizziness went through Caina, the prickling getting worse with every step. 

“Are you all right?” said Corvalis.

“Probably not,” said Caina, and pulled herself into the seat of Halfdan’s wagon. Saddiq and his tribesmen followed the wagon, staring at the city and the huge white tower with wide eyes. Caina could not blame them. The tower rising from the island dwarfed even the Palace of Splendors in Cyrioch. 

“Well?” said Halfdan, voice low.

“There’s power inside the city,” said Caina. “Unlike anything I’ve ever felt. Stronger than Maglarion, stronger than Kalastus.” She swallowed. “Even stronger than Jadriga, I think.”

“You heard,” said Halfdan, “Irzaris’s story about the fire spirit?”

“Aye,” said Caina. “Ranarius thought he could harness the earth elemental, but I think the Masked Ones actually did it. And if they have the power to do that…then they truly could create a weapon to conquer the world.” 

Halfdan nodded. “Can you cope? I know the presence of sorcery…affects you, for want of a better word.”

“I’ll manage,” said Caina.

“Good,” said Halfdan. “Walk with Claudia. I’d like the two of you to watch the city and tell me what you learn. Try not to kill her if you can avoid it.”

“Do accidents count?” said Caina.

Halfdan raised an eyebrow.

Caina nodded. “As you wish.” She pushed off the seat, caught her balance, and circled past Saddiq and his mercenaries. Claudia walked at the side of the road, gazing at the city’s white walls with Corvalis. 

“What do you think?” said Caina.

“Defensible,” said Corvalis. “Those walls are solid, and with that lake in the crater they’ll have all the water they’ll ever need.”

Claudia laughed, her voice a little wild. “Those walls are an affectation. The Scholae doesn’t need them.” She waved her hand, and Caina felt the faint prickle as Claudia worked the spell to sense sorcery. “They have the kind of power that could sweep an army from the field like dust. Those sigils upon the walls? Warding spells. When activated, those walls would be impervious to any physical or sorcerous attack.” She shivered. “And that is only a defensive spell. I cannot imagine…I cannot image what their sorcery would do if they wielded it for attack.” Again she shivered. “I thought…I thought I knew what power was. Our father had it. The high magi of the Magisterium had it. But this…this is power.”

Her tone was horrified, but Caina saw an intrigued light in her eyes. Like a child enraptured by a fire, right before he burned his hand. 

“Think of all the good the Masked Ones could do with that power,” said Claudia.

“Yes,” said Caina. “Like creating a terrible weapon to sell to the highest bidder.”

Claudia blinked, and the strange look faded from her eyes. 

“Come on,” said Caina. “Let’s see what kind of men would create such a weapon.”

###

Lord Titus rode through the great gate of white stone, flanked by his Imperial Guards. A large open square stood on the other side of the gate, ringed by a curious mixture of buildings. Caina saw an inn built in the Nighmarian style, a whitewashed Cyrican townhouse, a Kyracian ziggurat, and a score of other buildings. Yet many of them looked dilapidated or abandoned. 

Caina guessed that many people came to Catekharon in hopes of learning or profiting from the Masked Ones only to be disappointed. 

Lord Titus reined up his horse, and his bodyguard and Imperial Guards spread around him, an array of pomp and splendor and power. 

A single man in a robe of white linen awaited them.

For an alarmed instant Caina thought the Masked One she and Corvalis had killed in Cyrioch had returned. The robed man wore the same jade mask and carried the same silvery rod. Yet this man was fatter and taller. And Caina saw the pattern of hieroglyphics upon the mask was different. 

“Titus, Lord of House Iconias!” boomed Titus’s herald in High Nighmarian. “As the Lord Ambassador of the Emperor Alexius of House Naerius, he comes to treat in the Emperor’s name with the Scholae of Catekharon!”

The masked figure in the linen robe stepped forward, and Caina felt the power in his mask and rod. 

“I greet you, Lord Titus,” said the masked man in High Nighmarian, “in the name of the Scholae of Catekharon. I am Amendris, a Sage of the Scholae.” He gestured at the pale tower rising from the island. “Please, follow me. Lodgings have been prepared for both you and your men in the Tower of Study.”

“Lead the way, ah…my lord Sage,” said Titus.

Amendris bowed and led Titus deeper into the city, walking alongside the lord’s horse. The Imperial Guards marched after them, and Halfdan started the wagon forward.

“Daughter?” he called.

Caina looked up at him. 

“Go with Cormark and purchase some wine while Irene and I see to our lodgings,” said Halfdan, handing her a money pouch. “There’s profit in wine, and I wish to assess the market here.” He lowered his voice. “And we have a…contact in Catekharon.”

Caina looked around to make sure they were not overhead. “A Ghost?”

“Aye, a nightkeeper,” said Halfdan. “There’s no proper circle in Catekharon, but we do have a contact. A woman named Annika. She owns a pawn shop on the Street of the Crater. Find Annika and talk to her. She’ll have news for us. Once you’re done, rejoin me at the Tower of Study. We’ll decide what to do then. The Masked Ones will reveal their weapon tomorrow, but I’d like to have more information first.” 

Caina nodded and went to find Corvalis.

###

“This is,” said Corvalis a short time later, “the strangest city I have ever seen.”

“Most cities,” said Caina, “don’t have canals of molten steel flowing through them.”

One of the canals flowed alongside the street. It was thirty feet deep, its stone walls carved with warding sigils, a sheet of white-hot metal flowing along its bottom. The air over the canal rippled with heat, and Caina felt a sheen of sweat upon her forehead. She supposed murder would be an easy crime to commit in Catekharon. Dump a corpse into a canal, and the evidence would burn to ashes within moments. 

On the other hand, she saw Catekhari soldiers patrolling in their elaborate gray armor and red helms. And the streets seemed safe enough, lacking the air of menace in places like Cyrioch’s Seatown or Marsis’s dockside district. 

“True,” said Corvalis. “But half the buildings are abandoned. For all the size of the city, there cannot be more than fifteen or twenty thousand people living here.”

“It’s not surprising,” said Caina. “The only reason for a city to be here is to support the Masked Ones. And it would take a daring man to traffic with sorcerers of such power.” She shook her head. “I suppose some sorcerers come here to study under the Masked Ones, and build their own households.” 

They crossed a stone bridge over the canal of metal and came to a street curving along the edge of the lake. The massive Tower of Study rose from the island’s heart, at least as tall as Black Angel Tower in Marsis. Despite all the aqueducts of molten metal, Caina saw only one causeway going to the island. Even without their sorcery, the Masked Ones possessed a defensible stronghold. 

“Here we are,” said Corvalis. “Perhaps Annika will be able to explain why someone would want to live here.”

A row of dingy shops and taverns faced the lake. A sign painted with three golden balls hung over one of the shops, its windows shuttered. Corvalis strode to the door and pushed it open, a bell ringing overhead. The shop’s interior was gloomy, lit only by a few streamers of sunlight leaking through the shutters. Shelves heavy with clothes, pots, knives, and tools lined the walls. A counter divided the shop in half, and on the other side Caina saw more valuable goods. No doubt Annika kept her most valuable wares locked in a strongbox in the cellar. 

A door behind the counter opened, and a gaunt woman in an Anshani-style robe and headcloth limped into sight. She was Szaldic, and was about forty, with long gray-streaked black hair and pale blue eyes. The left side of her face drooped in a livid red scar, and she leaned upon a cane in her right hand. 

“Welcome, welcome,” said the woman in Anshani with a strong Szaldic accent. “You speak Anshani, yes? Good, good. If you wish for cheap goods of excellent quality, you have come to the right place.” Her pale eyes took in Caina at a glance, examining her blue gown and silver earrings. “And if you wish to raise money…ah, Annika will help you. Your jewelry will fetch a fine price, and you need not turn to…disreputable methods to pay your bills.”

Corvalis snorted in amusement.

“I do speak Anshani,” said Caina in High Nighmarian, “but I prefer this tongue.”

Annika blinked. Caina suspected very few people in Catekharon spoke High Nighmarian. 

“And I do not wish to purchase goods,” said Caina, “but I am curious about the shadows.”

“The shadows?” said Annika in High Nighmarian. 

“Does anything hide in the shadows?” said Caina. 

“The Ghosts hide in the shadows,” said Annika. Her hand dipped behind the counter, no doubt reaching for a weapon.

“And let the tyrants beware,” said Caina.

Annika relaxed. “For the Ghosts hide in the shadows,” she said, completing the countersign. Her fingers, thin and bony, drummed against the handle of her cane for a moment. “So it seems the Scholae and their weapon have drawn the attention of the Emperor himself.”

“They have,” said Caina. “Which is why we are here.”

“Might I know your names?” said Annika.

“Of course not,” said Caina, and the older woman smiled. “But you can call me Anna Callenius, and this is Cormark, a guard in my father’s service. My father is a master merchant of the Imperial Collegium of jewelers, and traveled south with Lord Titus’s embassy in search of trading opportunities.”

“Yes,” said Annika. “A fine story. And Anna is a pretty name. Though I am partial to it.” She limped around the counter. “I assume you have come for information?”

“Aye,” said Caina. “Anything you know about the weapon will be helpful.”

Annika laughed, a harsh, rasping sound. “Very little. Still, I will tell you what I know.”

“Do you know what the weapon is?” said Caina. “What it does?”

“I fear not,” said Annika. “The Sages are most secretive.” She waved her cane at her shelves. “I have many friends among the slaves and the poorer laborers of Catekharon. For sometimes information about their masters is far more valuable than any coin. But the Sages of the Scholae do not speak with lesser men.” She frowned. “Though I can tell you who created the weapon.”

“Who?”

“Zalandris will take the credit,” said Annika.

“A Masked One?” said Caina. “One of these…Sages?”

“He is,” said Annika. “You must understand. The Scholae, those you call the Masked Ones, are not like the Magisterium of the Empire. The Magisterium is…hierarchical, rigid, and the First Magus’s word is law.”

“Believe me,” muttered Corvalis, “I know it well.” 

Annika favored him with a smile. “You do, my handsome fellow? Well, Zalandris is the Speaker of the Scholae, the chief of the Sages…but the Scholae is an assembly of equals. He holds little authority over them, and his chief responsibility is dealing with outsiders so the Sages can study without the burden of temporal affairs.” 

“So this Zalandris,” said Caina, “created the weapon, and offered it for sale to the various nations entirely under his own authority?”

“He did,” said Annika. “Most of the Sages would not have approved. But I doubt Zalandris did it of his own volition. Mihaela likely drove it to him.”

“Mihaela,” said Caina. There had been a hint of bitterness in Annika’s voice. Mihaela was a Szaldic name, like Annika. Ark and Tanya had been planning to name their next child Mihaela, if it was a girl. “Another Sage?”

“No,” said Annika. “She is one of Zalandris’s Seekers.”

“Seekers?” said Corvalis. “Is that…like an initiate of the Magisterium? A student?”

“You see keenly,” said Annika. “The Scholae has two levels. The Sages are the masters, the ones who have passed the trials and earned the right to wear the mask and carry the rod. There are no more than three hundred Sages, to my knowledge, and by some secret science they live for centuries.”

“Necromancy,” said Caina.

“No,” said Annika. “The Sages forbid necromancy. From what I understand they fled from the Maatish necromancers long ago, so necromancy is the one arcane science forbidden in Catekharon.” She rubbed at her hip for a moment. “The Seekers are the sorcerers the Sages deign to accept as students. Some come for only a few years, learn what they need, and depart. Others aspire to become Sages themselves. Very few ever do. The Sages are selective, and set rigorous trials.” She grunted. “I urge you to beware the Seekers. The Sages themselves are not very dangerous unless provoked.”