Ghost Light Read Free Page A

passed
through the shadows, and they swarmed over him, wrapping around his
limbs like serpents, their screams of hate filling Caina’s head.
Cynoshard collapsed to the earth beneath the weight of the shadows,
and she heard bones snap, saw blood splatter across the earth.
    She turned and cut Qassar loose from his bonds.
    “Thank you, thank you,” said the merchant,
half-weeping. “You saved us, I cannot believe you defeated him,
you…”
    Caina pressed a dagger into his hand, told him to see
to his wives and children, and walked to Cynoshard.
    The assassin lay pinned to the earth, moaning, bound
by the crawling shadows of his ruined cloak. His eyes shifted to
Caina, and he tried to stand, tried to break away, but the shadows
held him fast.
    “You shouldn’t keep slaves,” said Caina, voice quiet.
“They always turn against their masters.”
    She seized his hair, pulled back his head, and cut
his throat.
    The shadows’ cries of exultation mixed with the
joyous weeping of Qassar’s wives.
    THE END
    Thank you for reading GHOST LIGHT. If
you liked the story, please consider leaving a review at your ebook
site of choice. To receive immediate notification of new
releases, sign up for
my newsletter (http://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=1854) , or watch for news on my Facebook
page (http://www.facebook.com/pages/Jonathan-Moeller/328773987230189) . Turn the page to read the first chapter of GHOST IN THE COWL,
Caina Amalas's first adventure in Istarinmul .

    ***

GHOST IN THE COWL Chapter 1 - Istarinmul
    Two weeks after she lost everything, Caina Amalas
stood on the ship’s deck and threw knives at the mast.
    It was a way to pass the time and keep herself from
thinking too much. To distract herself from the memories that
flooded her mind if she was idle for too long. Sometimes she locked
herself in her cabin for hours and performed the exercises of
open-handed combat she had learned at the Vineyard long ago,
working through the unarmed forms over and over again until every
muscle in her body throbbed and spots danced before her eyes.
    But if she stayed alone too long, her thoughts went
to the dark places. To New Kyre and the blaze of golden fire above
the Pyramid of Storm. To Sicarion laughing as he drove his dagger
into the back of the man who had raised Caina. To the Moroaica,
weeping as the white fire blazed behind her.
    To Corvalis, lying dead upon the ground of the
netherworld.
    And when her thoughts went there, Caina found herself
gazing at the veins in her arm, thinking of the knives she
carried.
    She retained enough of her right mind to realize that
she was not thinking clearly, that her mood was dangerous.
    So when that mood came, she went to the deck and
threw knives at the mast.
    At first the sailors were alarmed, but they soon grew
accustomed to it. They had been told that she was a mercenary named
Marius, a courier for the Imperial Collegium of Jewelers,
delivering contracts now that trade between Istarinmul and the
Empire had opened up again. An important passenger could be
forgiven an eccentricity or two.
    That, and she never missed the mast.
    Soon the sailors ignored her, even without Captain
Qalim’s orders. Caina suspected that the sailors would have reacted
rather differently if they knew that beneath the disguise “Marius”
was actually a twenty-two year old woman, but she did not care.
    She could not bring herself to care about very
much.
    So she threw knives at the mast, the blades sinking
into the wood. Compensating for the motion of the waves and the
wind kept her mind busy. Pulling the knives out of the mast and
sharpening the blades anew kept her hands occupied.
    The sailors ignored her, but Caina nonetheless
attracted an audience.
    When the Emperor had sent her on a ship from New
Kyre’s harbor, she had expected to share the vessel with cargo.
Kyracian olive oil, most likely, or perhaps Anshani silk. The
Starfall Straits had been closed to trade for nearly a year, and
cargoes had piled