Ghost in the Amulet Read online

  GHOST IN THE AMULET

  Jonathan Moeller

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  Description

  For all her life, Caina has run from the memory of her cruel mother.

  But her mother was merely the weakest member of a family of powerful and ruthless sorcerers.

  Now Caina has the Ring of the ancient necromancer-king Rasarion Yagar, and her aunt Talmania Scorneus is hunting for her.

  And to take the Ring, Talmania is willing to kill Caina and everyone close to her...

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  Ghost in the Amulet

  Copyright 2018 by Jonathan Moeller.

  Smashwords Edition.

  Cover design by Clarissa Yeo.

  Ebook edition published October 2018.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law.

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  Author's Note

  A map of the eastern Empire and adjoining regions is avaliable on the author's website at this link (https://www.jonathanmoeller.com/writer/?page_id=10332).

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  Chapter 1: Risiviri

  Caina had come to hate snow.

  She had seen snow before she had come to Ulkaar. There had been snow in Varia Province, the northwest corner of the Empire, and some in the Disali hills east of the Imperial capital of Malarae. But those light snows had been nothing, nothing at all, compared to the blizzards that choked the land of Ulkaar in the winter. The snow lay thick upon the ground, a heavy blanket that slowed her when she tried to walk through it.

  More to the point, the snow slowed the oxen and the wagons.

  Theodosia’s theatre company was well-equipped, and she had planned well for dealing with the bitter winters of Ulkaar. Her wagons had broad, steel-studded wheels for pushing through the snow, and the oxen of Ulkaar were shaggy beasts, their coats long and heavy to keep the chill at bay. Caina envied the oxen that. The oxen plodded ever onward, but from time to time the wagons got stuck in the snow. When that happened, Kylon and Seb and the stronger men from the theatre company pushed, heaving the heavy wagons out of the drifts. Kylon and Seb used their spells to augment their strength, which no doubt helped.

  As they continued south, the snow thinned, but the cold grew sharper and harder. Caina wore a heavy leather coat lined with steel plates, the cloak of wolf fur that Ivan Zomanek had given her with the cowl pulled up, heavy boots, heavy gloves, and a scarf wrapped around her face, and she was still cold all the time. It seemed to leach constantly at her strength, During the worst of the chill, they stopped twice a day and lit fires so the men and women of the company and even the oxen could warm up.

  And to think that Caina had once considered Istarinmul and Iramis too hot!

  If she got back to Iramis, she was never going to complain about the heat again. She was a little envious that Kylon handled the cold better than she could, but he had traveled farther north than this during his time with the Kyracian fleet. Caina was glad to be married to him for many reasons, but right now she was especially glad she could press against him and share his body heat in their blankets at night.

  The cold did have one pleasant experience. Caina hadn’t realized this, but it was possible to make love while (nearly) fully dressed and wrapped in blankets. Apart from its other enjoyable qualities, that was also an excellent way to keep warm. Caina wondered how many Ulkaari babies were born in late summer and autumn because their parents had been cold in the winter.

  Not that becoming pregnant would be a problem for her, alas.

  Seven days after they left Vagraastrad, Caina walked at the head of their little column with Theodosia. Seb and Kylon had gone out to scout, making sure that bandits or no other foes threatened the road ahead. Bandits seemed unlikely in this weather. Any sensible man would be at home near a fire. Caina was more concerned about other dangers. The barrier that separated the mortal world from the netherworld was abraded in Ulkaar, thanks to the Iron King’s long-ago duel with the Warmaiden, and it was easy for spirits to slip from the netherworld and into the mortal world. Twice the theatre company had been attacked by groups of reveniri and minor undead. Fortunately, the company traveled with Kylon Shipbreaker and Sebastian Scorneus, and the Kyracian stormdancer and the Imperial battle magus had defeated the attack between them.

  Caina and her valikon had helped as well.

  “Another day, I think,” said a woman’s voice in the Caerish tongue, melodious and rich, “and we shall reach Risiviri.”

  Caina turned her head, looking at the line of wagons crunching their way along the frozen road. Theodosia walked to join her, her heavy green cloak with its fur collar hanging around her. Today she seemed in a good mood. Caina’s old teacher had always been prone to mood swings, with wild giddiness before she took the stage in the Grand Imperial Opera and crushing despondency once the performance was over, only for her temper to return to normal the next day. The murder of her son Niklos at the hands of Talmania Scorneus seemed to have exacerbated her mood swings, adding a strange fey temper where her gray eyes turned cold and gray and distant.

  If Talmania ever fell into Theodosia’s power, the Umbarian provost would regret it bitterly.

  But today Theodosia appeared cheerful. She was heavier-set than Caina but tall enough to bear it well, and her cylindrical fur hat concealed her long blond hair. When she had come to Ulkaar, Caina had thought those cylindrical hats looked mildly ridiculous, but after enduring the harsh chill of Ulkaar for the last month, she had come to appreciate their warmth and now wore one herself.

  “Good,” said Caina. “It will be pleasant to be indoors once again.”

  “Aye,” said Theodosia with a smile. “Usually you can make the trip from Vagraastrad to Risiviri in three or four days, counting the time spent on the ferry over the Kozalin River. But this snow has slowed us down.” She let out a contented sigh. “Still, the cold is invigorating, isn’t it?”

  “Invigorating?” said Caina. “So is getting hit in the face. I would prefer to avoid both.”

  Theodosia blinked and then laughed. “I can see why you would think that. You’re all lean muscle. No extra padding.” She patted her stomach, which in Caina’s opinion wasn’t as anywhere near as protuberant as Theodosia seemed to think it was. “Usually, I’m envious. Not at the moment, though.”

  “I imagine not,” said Caina.

  “But you have that vigorous husband to help keep you warm at night,” said Theodosia.

  “Yes,” said Caina. Theodosia was much more comfortable discussing that particular subject than Caina was, which seemed to amuse Ilona, and both horrify and fascinate Sophia. Caina decided to change the topic. “Do you think the harbor at Risiviri might be frozen over?”

  Theodosia shook her head. “The Inner Sea hardly ever freezes. It’s saltwater. Truth be told, I expect to see the ice break on the river at any moment. The tide washes up the river, makes it saltier and less likely to freeze. Which is just as well, because we’ll need to hire the ferry to get all our wagons across the Kozalin.” She frowned. “Though I suppose if the river was frozen over we could just roll the wagons across. But if the river is frozen near Risiviri, then the harbor will be frozen.” Her frown deepened. “And we do need to get you a ship as soon as possible.”

  “Aye,” agreed Caina. The reason for the haste rested against her left wrist, bound there with a leather cord. It was a signet r
ing of dark iron, an emerald carved in the shape of a dragon set into the band. Once it had been carried by Rasarion Yagar, the necromancer-king who had ruled Ulkaar with a rod of iron. It seemed that the Ring carried some of the Iron King’s power, and both Caina’s aunt Talmania and the Temnoti cultists sought to claim the Ring for their own purposes. Talmania desired to claim the lost five relics of the Iron King and seize their power for herself. The Temnoti wished to find the relics to work something called the Final Night, the advent of their dark god Temnuzash and his triumph over all foes.

  Neither sounded good.

  So, the sooner Caina got the Ring out of Ulkaar and handed it over to the loremasters of Iramis where it could be kept safe, the better.

  “A pity I won’t be able to see Talmania’s face,” murmured Theodosia, “when she finds that the Ring has slipped from her grasp forever.”

  Caina glanced back, fearing that some of the members of the theatre company might have overhead them. Theodosia was a circlemaster of the Ghosts, and Ilona served as her nightkeeper, Theodosia’s second in command. A few of the other members of the company were Ghosts themselves, but most were not. Yet no one else was in earshot, and Caina rebuked herself. Theodosia had been a Ghost for longer than Caina had been alive, and even grief over her murdered son had not made her careless.

  “I suppose you won’t need to imagine it,” said Caina. “Apparently I look just like Talmania. Just recall me looking annoyed and angry, and that ought to cover it.”

  Theodosia laughed. “My dear, I don’t want you to be annoyed and angry, I want…”

  Snow crunched beneath boots, and Caina turned to see a girl and a woman approaching. The girl had soft brown eyes and long black hair, her face ruddy from the cold. She wore a heavy coat and cloak and carried a crossbow slung over her shoulder. Sophia Zomanek seemed much more at ease since Caina had met her in the haunted corridors of Sigilsoara, but she had endured numerous trials since then.

  The woman wore a fine blue cloak with a fur collar, her black eyes merry and bright in her lean face. She was about Caina’s age, and despite the uneven, snowy ground, she walked with a dancer’s grace. Ilona had an easy, charming manner, but Caina wondered what it concealed.

  “Good morning, my lady,” said Sophia to Caina. “It’s warmer today, isn’t it?”

  Caina laughed. “I shall have to take your word for it.”

  “When you accompany Lady Caina to Iramis, I think you’re going to be in for quite a shock,” said Ilona with a smile. “It is so hot in the southern lands that it never rains.”

  Sophia scrunched up her face at that. “Never?”

  “Well, more than it used to,” said Caina. “Some of Grand Master Callatas’s experiments cursed the land, so rain stopped falling. After he was killed, that changed. It does rain in Istarinmul now, but not terribly often.”

  “If it doesn’t rain, when does it snow?” said Sophia.

  “Never,” said Caina. “If you took a man of Istarinmul and dropped him here, he would think you had sent him to a frozen hell.”

  “It’s not that cold, my lady,” said Sophia. “It hasn’t even snowed for days.”

  “And it is getting warmer,” said Ilona, pointing. “See? The ice is breaking up on the river.”

  Caina followed Ilona’s pointing finger and saw that she was correct. The ice choking the river had begun to crack and break up, revealing the gray waters surging beneath. Come to think of it, a distinct salt tang had entered the air, likely rising from the cold waters.

  “Pity we could not have crossed the river while it was still frozen,” said Ilona. “We would save the cost of the ferry.”

  “No,” said Theodosia. “That would have been convenient, but the riverbanks are far too steep. We’d have cracked an axle, and our wagons are heavy enough that they might have gone right through the ice. No, better to take the cost of the ferry and to have all our people reach Risiviri alive.” She shivered and looked at the icy river. “Drowning in freezing water is a bad way to die.”

  “Aye,” said Ilona, her eyes distant.

  Sophia looked to the south, a flare of arcane power appearing around her to the vision of the valikarion. Seb and Kylon had been taking turns teaching Sophia the basics of sorcery, the mental disciplines and spells that all sorcerers needed to know, and Kylon had shown her how to make better use of her innate talent for water sorcery. Her skill had grown since they had left Vagraastrad, and she now seemed better able to focus and concentrate.

  “Lady Caina,” she said. “I think Lord Kylon and Lord Seb are returning from…” She frowned and pointed. “That direction.”

  As Sophia had predicted, two men emerged from the trees and headed towards the road and the lumbering wagons. Sebastian Scorneus wore the black armor of a battle magus of the Imperial Magisterium, armor specifically forged to withstand the sort of psychokinetic stresses a battle magus could put upon his armor. A black sword of the same metal hung at his belt. Caina was still a little disconcerted to see how much her half-brother looked like her, with the same cold blue eyes, thick black hair, and sharp features and thin-lipped mouth. It was almost like looking into a mirror and seeing a male version of herself. A male version of herself well along the way to growing a beard, since Seb hadn’t had a chance to shave since they had left Vagraastrad.

  Kylon walked next to him, and Caina smiled at the sight of her husband. While Kylon wore a heavy coat, unlike everyone else in the column, he didn’t bother with a fur-lined cloak. The reason for that was the faint glow of water sorcery shining around him. The sorcery of air and water made him faster and stronger in battle, and it also protected him somewhat from the harsh cold of the Ulkaari winter. A curved Ulkaari sabre of archaic design hung at his hip, and he hadn’t summoned his valikon. That was a good sign – had he encountered any serious enemies, he would have used the Iramisian sword to fight with them.

  His brown eyes met hers, and he smiled back. The cold suddenly did not seem so sharp around Caina.

  “Well, my lords,” said Theodosia, “any news?”

  “Some, nothing serious,” said Kylon. He stepped close to Caina, kissed her, and walked alongside her. “A group of minor undead passed through the woods recently, but they were heading to the east, away from the road.”

  “More’s the pity,” said Ilona, smiling at Seb. “Lord Sebastian could have struck down the vile creatures.”

  Seb snorted. “At least that would have been a chance to warm up.” He had a quiet, deep voice, with a dry note that never quite went away. Since Caina had met him in Sigilsoara, he had been gravely courteous most of the time, but he was starting to smile more when he looked at Ilona. Caina wasn’t sure what she thought of that. Talmania Skull-speaker had murdered Seb’s wife, and Caina didn’t know if Ilona would be a good match for Seb. Not that it was any of Caina’s business.

  And she was surprised that she cared.

  “We’ll have to tell the watchmen at the ferry station,” said Theodosia. “The Boyar of Risiviri pays a bounty for any destroyed undead creatures. Often young men think to make their fortunes by destroying undead along the road.” She sighed. “And just as often they tend not to come back.”

  “The border between the material world and the netherworld doesn’t seem so damaged here,” said Kylon.

  “No,” murmured Ilona. “It isn’t.” Caina glanced at her, and Ilona smiled. “The final battle between the Warmaiden and the Iron King before the gates of Sigilsoara took place in northern Ulkaar. The farther north you go in Ulkaar, the more likely you are to encounter undead and malevolent spirits.”

  “And the further north you go,” said Seb, “the farther behind you leave Imperial civilization.”

  Sophia frowned. “We Ulkaari are not barbarians, Lord Seb.”

  “No,” said Seb. “Though you do have the custom of the Boyar’s Hunt.” Sophia reddened a little at that. “On the other hand, the civilization of the Empire produced the Umbarian Order, so perhaps we are in no position to
cast stones.”

  “Best not to cast stones at anyone,” said Caina, “seeing as the two of you will soon be on a ship together. Look.”

  She pointed at the river. Ahead the ice grew thinner, and at last, vanished entirely. The gray waters flowed swiftly south, and the salt smell was stronger. That meant they were near to the city of Risiviri, and the city would have warm hearths and dry rooms. It would also have ships, and Caina and Kylon could sail for Artifel on the first stage of their journey to Iramis, putting the Ring beyond Talmania’s reach forever.

  “Ah, splendid,” said Theodosia. “If the river isn’t frozen over at this point, that means the harbor of Risiviri will be clear. You should have no trouble getting a ship.”

  “About time we had some good news,” said Caina, rolling her shoulders and looking at the snow cloaking the barren forest on the eastern side of the road. It was brilliantly white and had the sun been out, it would have been dazzlingly bright.

  That brought back a dark memory. The robes of Grand Master Callatas had been that color, and when Caina had found the Staff and Seal of Iramis, she had planned to take a ship to Catekharon, securing the relics within the Tower of Study. Instead, Callatas had seized the relics and worked his Apotheosis, and he had very nearly destroyed the world.

  Now Caina planned to sail from Risiviri to take the Ring of Rasarion Yagar out of reach of Talmania Scorneus.

  Would this plan come to disaster as well?

  A flicker of unease went through Caina. Talmania was probably in Risiviri by now. The Temnoti knew Caina had the Ring, and both Theodosia and Ilona had said the Temnoti had cultists and agents within the walls of Risiviri. Caina would have to be very careful…

  “Caina?” said Kylon

  She blinked and looked at her husband. She had kept the emotions from her face, and he hadn’t been touching her so he couldn’t sense her emotional aura, but he knew her well enough to tell what she was thinking.