Ghost in the Seal (Ghost Exile #6) (4 page)

The Teskilati agent had arrived. 

It was almost a relief.

Kylon loosened the valikon in its sheath over his shoulder. The ancient sword had been forged to destroy nagataaru, wrought from ghostsilver and wrapped with the mightiest spells of the ancient loremasters of Iramis. A peculiar sensation went up his hand as he grasped the sword’s hilt, as if the weapon was vibrating beneath his fingers, though he knew it was motionless. The sword had been created to destroy nagataaru, but Kylon had no doubt that it would be equally effective against an agent of the Padishah’s secret police. 

Though hopefully they would not have to kill anyone. That wasn’t the goal, at least not tonight.

An Istarish man strolled into the courtyard, wearing the blue robes and turban of a merchant of middling prosperity. A scimitar and a dagger hung at his belt, and despite the man’s casual demeanor, Kylon noted the man’s cautious bearing. He also sensed the man’s emotions, taut with wariness. Yet he didn’t feel like a man watching for a potential enemy. He seemed instead like a man waiting for a dangerous ally…

Caina’s head snapped to the left, so fast that Kylon feared something had hit her. She stared down into the courtyard, her eyes narrowed, and she leaned close to whisper in his ear.

“Do you feel that?” she hissed. “Someone’s using a spell down there.”

He drew upon the power of water sorcery, altering his senses and working a spell in silence. His talents lay with the sorcery of air and water, yet he could recognize other kinds of sorcery when he detected them, and he suddenly felt three loci of sorcerous power below, a peculiar mixture of necromantic and elemental spells…

That confirmed his suspicion. 

There were three Silent Hunters in the courtyard. 

The Imperial Magisterium of the Empire forbade the magi from using spells of necromancy and pyromancy and other forbidden arcane sciences. The Umbarian Order had gleefully cast aside those restrictions, and used their forbidden sciences to created augmented soldiers they could unleash upon their enemies. The Silent Hunters were the Order’s assassins, with spells of necromancy and illusion carved upon their flesh. For one hour of every day, they could turn invisible. The power had limitations – the Silent Hunter had to be naked for it to work, since the sorcery only altered his flesh, and he could not carry any weapons larger than a dagger. 

Yet within their limitations, the Silent Hunters were deadly killers. 

“Wait,” breathed Caina. If the Silent Hunters wished to kill a Teskilati agent, there was no reason to interrupt them. But if the Silent Hunters and the Padishah’s secret police had decided to cooperate…

Silver light rippled, and a wiry, naked man appeared in the courtyard below, his chest and back scarred with arcane sigils carved into his flesh. He held a dagger in his left hand with a loose, confident grip. The other two Silent Hunters remained unseen. 

“You’re late,” said the Teskilati agent in Istarish, his voice annoyed. 

The Silent Hunter offered a lazy shrug, his shoulder blades stark against the scarred skin of his back. “There were complications. Such is the nature of our trade.” 

“Indeed,” said the Teskilati. “What have you learned?” 

“You first,” said the Silent Hunter. “That was the arrangement. The locksmith.” 

The Teskilati shrugged. “Very well. The mad locksmith Strake is likely a dead end.”

“You do not believe her to be a Ghost?” said the Silent Hunter. 

“No,” said the Teskilati, and Kylon saw Caina smirk with satisfaction. “Her father was Ragodan Strake, a prominent master of the Brotherhood and a friend of Malik Rolukhan. I doubt the daughter of such a man would join a ring of foreign spies. Additionally, the Strake woman is a wraithblood addict, and you know how unreliable they are. Likely she has worked for the Ghosts, but I doubt Strake even remembers, and the Balarigar would be clever enough to use a false name, damn the woman.”

Caina’s smile did not change. 

“What about the blacksmith who has taken up residence with her?” said the Silent Hunter, waving a hand at the scaffolding. 

“An opportunist,” said the Teskilati. “Despite her madness, Strake is not an unattractive woman, and some men enjoy a certain…instability in their women.” The Silent Hunter gave a derisive snort. “Likely he thinks to profit off her skills while enjoying her company in his bed. No, watching Strake is a dead end.”

“Fortunately,” said the Silent Hunter, “some of us have not been idle. I think I know where to find the loremaster Annarah.”

Caina’s smile vanished at once. 

“Indeed?” said the Teskilati. “Where is the sorceress? The Grand Master wants her head almost as badly as he wants the Balarigar’s.”

“Somewhere near the Cyrican Harbor, I believe,” said the Silent Hunter. “She has been working in the hospitals that minister to the wraithblood addicts.” He sneered. “A waste of time and money. The wraithblood addicts are useless beggars. They should be put to death as a drain upon the public coffers. In the provinces ruled by the Order, they would be slain and raised as undead to augment the Order’s armies.” 

The Teskilati agent shrugged. “The Grand Master wishes them kept alive. That is why the Grand Wazir permitted the Sisters of the Living Flame to open the hospitals. We in the Teskilati do not question the orders of our superiors. I imagine matters work much the same in the Umbarian Order.” 

“You speak wisely,” said the Teskilati. “Which hospital?” 

“I do not yet know,” said the Silent Hunter. “One of the three hospitals. She works at all three, and moves between them at need.”

“Good,” said the Teskilati. “We have been hunting the Balarigar since the destruction of the Widow’s Tower, and this is the first solid lead we’ve had since the Kindred failed to kill her. We will post a watch on the hospitals and take the sorceress alive. Once we have her, she can be made to talk…and we shall at last have the Balarigar.” 

Caina whispered into Kylon’s ear again. “We have to kill them all. They can’t go back to their masters with this information.” 

Kylon nodded. Annarah knew a great many of their secrets. Worse, she knew the location of the Staff and the Seal of Iramis. If the Teskilati torturers forced her to reveal their location, Callatas would claim the relics in short order, and the Apotheosis would come to pass. 

“Very well,” said the Silent Hunter. “But should this plan succeed, credit for the Balarigar’s death must go to Lord Cassander Nilas.”

The Teskilati gave an indifferent shrug. “That is not for us to decide. The Grand Master is the true power in Istarinmul, and he does as he wishes, regardless of whatever promises he has made to your master.”

“And the Lord Cassander shall do as he wishes as well,” said the Silent Hunter. “Perhaps the Grand Master ought to tend to his own stables first. If the rebels in the south gain momentum, perhaps in a year’s time Lord Cassander will negotiate with a new Padishah and a new Grand Wazir.” 

“Take the Teskilati,” whispered Caina. “I’ll deal with the Silent Hunter.”

“The other two?” breathed Kylon.

He glimpsed her grim smile. “They can’t hide. Not from us. Strike first. I’ll come after you and take the Silent Hunter.”

Kylon nodded and drew the valikon in silence. The ghostsilver blade glimmered a little in the dim light, but fortunately the Teskilati agent and the Silent Hunter were too busy arguing to notice. Caina turned and climbed in utter silence down the scaffolding, a dagger appearing in her hand. Kylon straightened up and took a cautious step forward. The damned scaffolding creaked, but neither the Teskilati agent nor the Silent Hunter noticed. 

But the invisible Silent Hunters might have noticed, so it was time to move.

Kylon drew upon the sorcery of water to make himself stronger, the sorcery of air to make him faster, and leaped from the scaffolding. He shot towards the Teskilati agent and the Silent Hunter, the courtyard blurring toward him, and just had time to glimpse the Teskilati agent’s astonished expression. 

Then Kylon landed, the valikon sweeping before him with all of his strength and momentum driving the blow, and he took off the Teskilati agent’s head. Blood fountained from the stump of his neck. The Silent Hunter, to his credit, did not hesitate, but raised his dagger to strike. Before he could, Caina melted out of the darkness behind him, one hand seizing his lank hair, the other slashing her dagger across his throat with cold precision. The Silent Hunter fell to his knees, gagging, his death assured as his life bled out through the torn veins in his neck. 

But there were still two invisible Silent Hunters.

“Your left!” shouted Caina, throwing herself to the ground. Instead of dodging, Kylon charged to the left, going to one knee and ducking as he did. He felt something tug hard at the leather armor he wore over his tunic, likely the blade of an invisible dagger, and struck with the valikon. The sword caught upon something unseen, the sigils written in the blade flaring with white light, and suddenly a second Silent Hunter appeared before Kylon as the valikon collapsed his spell of invisibility. The Silent Hunter snarled and raised his dagger to strike, and Kylon moved first, driving the valikon through the assassin’s chest. The Silent Hunter went rigid, and Kylon kicked the dying man free from the blade, seeking for the final assassin.

He saw Caina, but no sign of the last Silent Hunter. Caina retreated in a zigzag pattern, dodging back and forth at random. She could not see the Silent Hunter, but her peculiar ability to sense sorcery meant that she knew exactly where the assassin was. Kylon again worked the spell to sense the presence of arcane forces, and detected the peculiar necromantic aura that surrounded the Silent Hunter. 

He charged at the aura, sweeping the valikon back and forth in a wide arc, and felt the tip of the blade catch upon something solid. Again the valikon flashed as it collapsed the invisibility spell and final Silent Hunter appeared. Caina flung a knife, the blade sinking into the assassin’s thigh. The Silent Hunter let out a sharp gasp of pain, the sigils carved into his flesh starting to pulse with silver light once more.

Kylon stepped forward, brought the valikon down, and ended the fight. 

He lifted the sword, looking around for any more foes, but saw none. Nor did he hear any sounds of alarm. The merchants and residents of the street of the metalworkers had slept through the fight. 

“Any others?” said Kylon. 

“None,” said Caina, and she gave a disgusted shake of her head. 

“What?” said Kylon. 

“These idiots,” she said, looking at the dead Silent Hunters. “They trusted too much in their invisibility.”

“If we must have foes,” said Kylon, “then let us pray they are all as incompetent.” 

She smiled a little at that. “Agreed. Come. Let’s move the bodies, quickly. I don’t want to leave them behind Nerina’s shop, and I know just where to put them.” 

“The doorstep of Kassan Qhoridaz, I presume,” said Kylon, sheathing the valikon and taking the ankles of a dead Silent Hunter.

“Precisely,” said Caina, gripping the dead man under the armpits. “I hope Kassan enjoys explaining to his masters why three dead Silent Hunters and one dead Teskilati agent turned up on his front step. Oh, we’ll need his head, too. Hard to identify a headless corpse.” 

The dead men were not heavy, and Kassan’s workshop was not far away. No watchmen or soldiers were on the street, and Kylon and Caina soon had the dead men piled upon Kassan’s steps. 

“Pity we can’t do anything about the blood,” muttered Caina, her sense growing colder as she considered the problem. “We left a trail back to the courtyard. Obvious that we killed them there.”

“Maybe not to the common soldiers or watchmen,” said Kylon. “Speaking of which, we should depart. I would prefer not to get arrested.” 

“Nor would I,” said Caina. “But we need some soldiers.” She looked back and forth, considering. “Ah, here we go. Better go to that alley. We’ll need to run quickly.”

In the distance Kylon saw a glimmer of torchlight as a group of soldiers moved up the street towards the Bazaar. Likely a press gang looking for fresh conscripts. 

“Get ready to run,” said Caina.

“What are you going to do?” said Kylon.

In answer, she took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs. Kylon blinked in surprise. It was a long, loud, shrill, terrified scream, exactly the sort of scream a frantic woman in desperate fear of her life might make. Caina screamed once more, louder and longer, and Kylon heard shouting from the approaching soldiers.

“Time to run,” said Caina, her voice calm once more.

“Right,” said Kylon, and he followed Caina as she made a roundabout course through the maze of back alleys and side streets. They ran perhaps half a mile, and then Caina stopped and looked around. As far as Kylon could tell, no one had followed them. 

“Anyone?” said Caina.

Kylon concentrated and extended his arcane senses. He felt the presence of some people in the nearby houses, but they were all asleep. As far as he knew, no one was aware of them. 

“We’re clear,” said Kylon. 

“Good,” said Caina. “That was…tricky.”

“Do you kill people every night?” said Kylon.

“I try to avoid it, actually,” said Caina. “Corpses draw unwelcome attention.” A brief flicker of satisfaction went through her sense. “As Master Kassan is about to discover.” She shook her head. “I’ll have to warn Annarah at once. Meet me at the Shahenshah’s Seat tomorrow night, and…”

“No,” said Kylon.

Caina blinked in surprise. “Why not?”

“Because,” said Kylon, “you shouldn’t be walking alone in the Cyrican docks at night.”

“I’ve done it before,” said Caina. “Many times.”

“Aye,” said Kylon, “but you shouldn’t have to do it.”

Caina hesitated, and then smiled. “All right. Let’s go. The sooner we warn Annarah, the better.” 

Kylon nodded and followed Caina into the alleys leading towards the harbor.

For a moment he contemplated the strange twists of his life. Once he had been one of the nine Archons of the Assembly of the Kyracian people, rich and powerful and influential, with thousands of soldiers and hundreds of ships at his command, with hundreds of slaves to manage his vast wealth and his properties. Now he slept in rented rooms over a variety of taverns, and he had just spent the night helping an Imperial spy move some corpses. He had indeed gone down in the world, a very long way. His sister would have been horrified.