Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 06 - Ghost in the Forge Read Free Page A

that Kindred assassin, but it matters not. Whatever design you planned for Cyrioch will not come to pass.”
    “Design?” said Caina. “What are you talking about?”
    She snatched a frying pan from Barimaz’s cart and stepped to the side. 
    “Enough,” said the masked man, pivoting to follow her. “We have played this game too many times before, but this time, I have the better of you.”
    “I’ve never seen you before in my life,” said Caina, talking another step to the side. 
    The masked man turned to follow her, keeping the rod pointed at her chest…and turned his back on Corvalis.
    She saw his eyes open. 
    “Your latest death will not undo the harm you have caused,” said the masked man, “but it least it will stop you from wreaking future harm. For a time.” 
    Corvalis rolled to a crouch and drew his sword. 
    “For the gods’ sake,” said Caina. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Could you at least tell me what this is all about before you kill me?” 
    “A likely trick,” said the man. His rod flared with white light, and Caina felt the surge of sorcerous power.
    Corvalis jumped to his feet, and the masked man turned to face him, leveling the silver rod at his chest.
    Caina gripped the frying pan like a discus and flung it with all her strength. It slammed into the masked man’s bad leg. The masked man dropped him to one knee, a pale pulse of white light spitting from his rod, but the blast missed Corvalis to splash against the side of Barimaz’s wagon.
    Corvalis lunged forward and buried his sword in the masked man’s chest. The man toppled backwards without a sound, the rod and mask falling away. Corvalis released his sword and stepped back, and Caina hurried to his side, shooting a quick look around the street.
    No one had noticed the fight. 
    “Damn it,” said Corvalis, looking at the dying man. “I should have taken him alive.” He reached for the silvery rod. 
    “No!” said Caina. “Don’t touch it! There’s a spell on it. I don’t know what it will do to you.”
    Corvalis stepped away from the rod. All at once Caina remembered where she had seen the symbols before. They were Maatish hieroglyphs, the same kind that adorned the ancient scroll her father had found. 
    The ancient scroll that had led to his death, that Maglarion had almost used to destroy Malarae.
    Caina looked at the dying man. Blood bubbled at his lips, and his skin had turned gray.
    “Who are you?” she said.
    The man glared at her, his blue eyes full of pain and fear.
    “Moroaica!” he spat, and then died.

Chapter 2 - To The Highest Bidder

    The next morning Caina sat next to Corvalis at the table in Theodosia’s sitting room as he cleaned his weapons.
    He cleaned, sharpened, and oiled his swords and daggers every day, whether they needed cleaning or not. He had told her that the Kindred had drilled the habit into him as a child. From went Caina knew of the Kindred, it meant that if his weapons and armor had shown a single spot of rust, his trainers would beat him black and blue. 
    So he cleaned his weapons.
    Caina understood. Her own experiences had taught her the value of keeping her blades sharp. 
    “Nothing,” said Caina, keeping the annoyed frustration out of her voice. She rolled a throwing knife across her fingers over and over again. The motion helped her to concentrate. “We checked every inn and tavern for a mile in every direction. No one remembered him or had ever seen him.”
    Across the table, a blond woman in her middle forties frowned. She was a bit plump, but tall enough to bear the excess weight. She was the leading lady of the Grand Imperial Opera company, and looked the part of a temperamental and demanding singer. Caina knew better. Theodosia of Malarae was as dangerous as any assassin of the Kindred.
    “Nothing in his pockets?” Theodosia said.
    “Nothing,” said Caina. “No coins, no notes, no weapons.” She gazed at the balcony doors. “Some sand