Ghost in the Winds (Ghost Exile #9) (44 page)

“You had to keep him alive, didn’t you?” said Caina. “You used his blood as a base for the wraithblood, and if he dies, the wraithblood stops working.”

Callatas’s eyes widened, and then narrowed again. “Is that what you think?”

“No one else knew,” said Caina. “Not Nasser, not Sulaman, not the djinn, not even your lieutenants. That was why you had to keep the Padishah alive, and why you never bothered to kill Sulaman. If the Padishah died, you could use Sulaman’s blood to make more wraithblood.” 

Callatas stared at her, and then let out a quiet laugh. “Yes. What a vexation you have been. Your grandparents had not even been born when I started upon the path of the Apotheosis, and in the last two years you have caused me more difficulty than anyone other than Annarah.” He paused, tilting his head to the side as he listened to the shadow of Kotuluk Iblis. “Yes. He is right. You have indeed been worthy prey.” His smile took on a vicious edge. “And your reward is to die in failure, to die knowing how very close you were to victory.”

He made a fist with his left hand, and Caina screamed in pain as the bands of psychokinetic force closed around her. It was a crude spell, not nearly as sophisticated as the bolts of transmuting fire he had flung at her. He was simply going to crush her to death. Caina tried to reach for the wind or the smokeless fire or the lightning, but she could not concentrate through the pain…

A blast of white fire slammed into Callatas, and the shadow of Kotuluk Iblis wavered. The spell holding Caina collapsed, and she dropped to one knee, breathing hard, blood upon her lips. Through the archway at the far side of the Court of Justice, she saw Annarah, her staff burning with white fire, saw Sulaman and Nasser and the others storming into the Court with a mob of Kaltari warriors and Istarish soldiers.

“Kill her!” shouted Callatas to the winged creatures, whirling to face the new threat as he began another spell.

Caina had just gotten to her feet, still coughing, when a dozen of the winged creatures landed before her, claws raised to stab. She stumbled back, raising the valikon in guard, and the creatures pursued her. 

There was another flash of white fire in the corner of her eye, and something blurred from the balcony to land next to her. 

Kylon charged into the creatures, killing them back with powerful swings of the valikon. He had changed clothes since she had seen him last, and now a freezing mist wreathed the blade of his valikon as he fought. The creatures recoiled, and for just a moment, there was a clear space around Caina while the Grand Master and his creatures were distracted.

Caina spun, sprinted forward, and jumped into the cart, raising the valikon and stabbing it down. The blade sizzled as it drove through the warding spells around the Padishah, the hilt growing warm beneath her fingers, and the sword sank between his ribs and found his heart.

Nahas Tarshahzon gasped, his wraithblood-tainted eyes going wide, and then slumped back into his chair with a sigh. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, and the Padishah of Istarinmul died at Caina’s hand.

Callatas’s scream of rage echoed through the Court of Justice. 

Chapter 28: Broken Pact

Morgant killed another winged creature, taking off its head with a swing of his scimitar. His dagger had almost stored up enough heat to unleash another fireball, and he thought he might try to use it against the Grand Master. Once Callatas brought his spells to bear, he would mow them all down like a scythe through the grass. He would probably be warded against the power of Morgant’s dagger, but it was still worth the effort.

He looked for another foe and then stopped in surprise.

The creatures upon the ground had stopped attacking. More of the creatures fell from the sky and landed in crouches upon the balconies and the ground, shivering as they landed. Soon hundreds of them had landed, all of them trembling. 

“Are they giving up?” Morgant said. 

“No,” said Annarah, blinking as she cast a spell with her left hand. “No, that’s not it. I think it’s the wraithblood, I think the wraithblood is…”

Someone let out a startled scream. Morgant turned and saw Nerina Strake shuddering. She stood with her husband Malcolm and the other Ghosts near the Imperial Guards. Morgant hadn’t realized the Ghosts had been carried along in their mad charge to the Golden Palace, but he had been a little distracted.

Nerina shuddered again, bowing her head, Malcolm gripping her arms. Morgant feared that Claudia’s spell had failed, the one of the nagataaru was about to enter her flesh and transform her. 

If that happened, Morgant would have to kill her. 

“Nerina?” said Malcolm.

Morgant lifted his weapons. 

“No,” said Annarah. “No, it’s something else.”

Nerina shuddered, took in a deep breath, and lifted her face, opening her eyes.

They had changed color.

A few moments ago they had been the pale, eerie blue of a wraithblood addict. Now they were a bright shade of green, like the color of expensive jade. 

“What happened?” said Malcolm.

“It is…gone,” said Nerina, as bewildered as Morgant had ever heard her. “The desire for wraithblood. My urge to employ it has…it is just gone. I cannot account for it mathematically.”

All the winged creatures in the Court of Justice began shuddering at once, and the vast plume of shadow rising from the Mirror of Worlds began to writhe and twist. 

###

Caina drew the valikon free, the Padishah’s eyes falling closed as he did. 

“Who was that?” said Kylon, still looking at Callatas. She had expected the Grand Master to attack in a fury, but Callatas seemed frozen with shock, staring at the dead Padishah with chagrin. 

“The Padishah,” said Caina in a soft voice. “Nahas Tarshahzon.”

Through the Court blazed the vast network of spells that Callatas had worked to power the Apotheosis. The spells still thrummed with power, but now they were shivering, like taut ropes bearing too much weight.

“Why did you kill him?” said Kylon, holding the valikon in guard position. Around them stood a dozen of the winged creatures, but they had gone motionless, the purple fire in their eyes and veins sputtering. 

“Because he asked me to do it,” said Caina. “Because Callatas used his blood as the base for wraithblood. Because I think the wraithblood doesn’t work without a living base to…”

As one every single creature in the Court of Justice fell to their knees, threw back their heads, and screamed. 

Nagataaru erupted from their mouths, hundreds of them, and shot into the air, hurtling towards the plume of shadow. As the nagataaru left their hosts, they shrank back into human form, and suddenly hundreds of bewildered-looking wraithblood addicts knelt in the Court. The lines of power along the spells started to snap and unravel, and the huge plume of shadow began shrinking, pulling itself back into the Mirror of Worlds. 

“You banished them?” said Kylon.

“No,” said Caina. “No. It was the wraithblood. The wraithblood allowed them to possess the addicts. Without the wraithblood, their defenses returned, and…” 

The Mirror of Worlds shuddered, letting out a high-pitched keening sound. The spells upon it were disintegrating, shattering apart, and Caina feared the explosion would kill everyone in the Court of Justice.

She drew breath to shout a warning, and then more power burned before the vision of the valikarion.

Callatas stalked towards her, his face twisted with rage, enough power gathered in his left hand to kill both her and Kylon and everyone else around them. 

###

The fury screamed through Callatas. 

It was ruined. A century and a half of work, and that wretched woman had ruined it! 

He had been on the verge of saving mankind, of finally replacing the old humanity with the new humanity. A glorious new world had been about to dawn…and somehow Caina had learned the truth, had realized that killing the Padishah would negate the power of the wraithblood.

Had there been time, he could have captured Sulaman and used his blood to restore the potency of the wraithblood, but it was too late. It was far too late. A century and a half of work had been undone.

It had been undone…but Callatas himself was not yet defeated. 

He still had the regalia of Iramis. He still had the knowledge he had acquired during his century and a half of labor. With that knowledge, he could leave Iramis and start over again in some other land. Perhaps he could seize control of one of the disputed provinces on the border between the Empire and the insurgent Umbarian Order. One of the Ulkaari provinces, perhaps. Or maybe he could travel to one of the free cities and take control of its rulers, using its population to prepare the Apotheosis again. 

The Apotheosis had failed, but he would work it once more.

After he killed everyone who had knowledge of it. Most of his principal enemies had gathered here, and he would kill them all. A few Hellfire explosions here and there would throw the rest of Istarinmul into chaos, and he could depart the city. Grand Master Callatas would disappear, leaving ruin in his wake and he would take up the work in a new land with a new identity. 

He would start by killing Caina Amalas. 

She had brought this disaster upon his head. His other enemies had done him great harm, true, Nasser and Annarah and Prince Kutal Sulaman, but Caina had been the one who had catalyzed them, and he would start his vengeance by killing her.

That, and she and her Kyracian lover both carried valikons, which were the only weapons capable of penetrating his wards. Once they were dead, he could slaughter the rest of his enemies with perfect safety. 

He raised his hand, golden fire flickering around his fingers, and suddenly agony filled him.

CALLATAS.

He had heard the voice of Kotuluk Iblis many times before. He thought he had grown used to the horror of it, the malicious and alien contempt, the bottomless fury and rage. 

Never before, though, had the full rage of that terrible voice been directed at him.

Callatas fell to his knees, in too much pain to continue his spell, too much pain even to stand. 

OUR PACT IS BROKEN.

Blood poured from his nose and mouth, and he struggled to stand, struggled to work a spell, but the voice came from inside of his head and was beyond all his defenses. 

YOU PROMISED ME THIS WORLD. YOU PROMISED HOSTS TO HOUSE MY VASSALS.

His vision was turning black, blood leaking from his ears. 

YOU HAVE FAILED!

“No!” said Callatas. “This is just a setback, only a setback, I will begin the Apotheosis anew in…”

YOU HAVE FAILED, AND OUR PACT IS BROKEN! YOU PROMISED ME YOUR WORLD, AND YOU HAVE FAILED! NOW I SHALL EXACT MY PRICE FOR YOUR FAILURE.

“I have not failed!” said Callatas. “I shall work the Apotheosis, I…”

Ribbons of shadow burst from the plume of darkness, wrapping around him and lifting him off his feet as they dragged him towards the Mirror of Worlds. 

YOUR WORLD IS LOST TO ME, BUT YOUR UNENDING TORMENT SHALL BE AN AMUSING DISTRACTION. 

The chains of shadow wrapped around him, dragging him to the gate, and Callatas screamed.

###

Caina stumbled back as the nagataaru dragged the screaming Callatas towards the Mirror of Worlds. 

The plume of shadow collapsed, the nagataaru pouring through the gate and into the netherworld. Without any wraithblood addicts to possess, the nagataaru were being pulled back into the netherworld, and the gate was the easiest way back. Callatas vanished into the swirling darkness, and Caina heard him screaming and pleading and shouting empty threats. She didn’t know what would happen when he passed through the gate and into the netherworld. Perhaps she should pursue him and kill him there.

“No!” said Samnirdamnus. “He has broken his pact with Kotuluk Iblis, and the lord of the nagataaru does not forgive failure. I suspect the Grand Master will rather wish you had killed him. Brace yourself!” 

Callatas’s voice rose in a terrified scream, and then the nagataaru, all of the nagataaru, vanished into the shimmering gate of gray light.

An instant later the Mirror of Worlds shattered with a thunderous cracking noise, and a gale of hot air howled through the Court of Justice. The wind knocked Caina from her feet, but Kylon caught her, and she shielded her face from the wind and the debris. For a moment the howling wind continued, and then died away. 

Silence fell over the Court of Justice, shocking after the sounds of combat. 

Hundreds of wraithblood addicts looked around in confusion. The Kaltari warriors and the Imperial Guards regained their feet, watching for new foes, but there were none. The Mirror of Worlds was a twisted wreck, the frame broken, shards of glass piled upon the ground. All trace of Callatas’s spells had vanished. 

The Apotheosis was over.

Caina turned and saw Sulaman and Mazyan approaching, Morgant and Annarah and Nasser following. Sulaman looked at his father in his chair, and then at Caina, his face pained. 

“I’m sorry,” said Caina. 

She seemed to hear something inside of her head, a dull throbbing sound. Perhaps it was her own pulse. 

“He asked it of you, I know,” said Sulaman. “You did what he could not, for he knew that his sacrifice would save our people.” 

“Yes,” said Caina, blinking. 

The throbbing sound seemed to get louder and louder, like a beating heart. 

“The shadow,” said Samnirdamnus. “I did not lie to you. The shadow was your choice to accept me, cast backward through time. But shadows can merge. There is another choice, and the moment is upon you.” 

Sulaman was saying something, and so was Kylon, but Caina didn’t hear it.

The heartbeat seemed to get louder and louder. 

Caina walked across the Court of Justice, towards the shattered mirror, and a glint of metal caught her eye even as the vision of the valikarion saw the waiting arcane force.

The Staff, Seal, and Star of Iramis lay discarded upon the ground, the broken glass glittering around them. Callatas had not taken them with him to his torment at Kotuluk Iblis’s hands. Both the Staff and the Seal shone with power to her eyes.