Free Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7) by Jonathan Moeller

experience, but her time with the necromancer must have damaged her aura. Alchemical Elixirs often reacted badly when ingested by those with damaged auras. Mortally wounded by the Huntress, Caina must have realized that her death was at hand, and had decided to perish in a blaze of silver flame.
    Taking her enemies with her. 
    It had almost worked. All of Cassander’s Adamant Guards and Silent Hunters had been killed in the explosion. He assumed that Nasser Glasshand and Kylon of House Kardamnos had escaped in the chaos, taking the Staff and Seal of Iramis. That could prove a problem. Kylon had sworn vengeance upon Cassander for the death of his wife, and he had an Iramisian valikon that could penetrate any defensive ward. For that matter, Cassander still wanted to get his hands on the Staff and Seal of Iramis. 
    With their power, he could humble many, many enemies. 
    The smile spread over his scarred, aching face again, and he laughed, drawing a cautious look from Kalgri. 
    He could deal with those problems later. Far more enjoyable work awaited him now.
    For Caina Amalas was dead. 
    It had not happened as Cassander would have wished, true, but the woman who had terrorized the Brotherhood of Slavers, who had burned the Widow’s Tower and the Craven’s Tower, who had destroyed the Inferno, was dead. Kalgri carried the dead Ghost’s shadow-cloak and ghostsilver dagger as proof. When Cassander presented them to Grand Master Callatas, the Master Alchemist would open the Starfall Straits to the Umbarian fleet, and the Order would seize Malarae, kill the Emperor, and bring the entire Empire under their control.
    Or Callatas would renege upon their deal, as Cassander had always suspected he might.
    He laughed and felt Kalgri’s wary glance.
    Cassander had always suspected that Callatas would betray him, and he had made preparations. 
    He almost hoped the old Grand Master would betray him.
    He wanted to see the look on the pompous old fool’s face once he realized the truth.
    “What,” said Kalgri, “is so funny?” 
    “I was thinking about history,” said Cassander.
    “History,” said Kalgri in a flat voice. 
    “Yes,” said Cassander. “Iramis had such a long history, did it not? Stretching back for all those centuries to the very dawn of ages. So many centuries, so many names, loremasters and Princes and valikarion, all them written into the pages of that history. And yet Grand Master Callatas became the last name in Iramisian history on the day he held the Star of Iramis aloft and watched the city burn.”
    “I know,” said Kalgri. “I was there. Long before you were born.”
    Cassander smiled at her. “Perhaps I shall be the last name in Istarinmul’s history.” 
    Kalgri said nothing, yet something like shadow and purple fire shivered through her blue eyes. Cassander had her attention, and he had the attention of the malevolent spirit that lurked behind her eyes. 
    “What are you saying?” she hissed. For a moment he heard something else in her words, a snarling, alien hunger beyond anything human as the presence of her nagataaru bled into her voice. 
    “Callatas promised to open the Starfall Straits if I slew Caina Amalas,” said Cassander.
    “Yes, I know,” said Kalgri. “I was there.” 
    “Now Caina Amalas is dead by my hand,” said Cassander.
    Kalgri said nothing, but touched the ghostsilver dagger at her belt, the dagger Caina had carried in life. Likely the Huntress kept that and Caina’s shadow-cloak as trophies. 
    “So Callatas will keep his word and order his dog Erghulan to open the Straits,” said Cassander. “Yet you have known the illustrious Grand Master for far longer than I have, my dear Huntress. Do you really think he will keep his word?” 
    Kalgri let out a scornful laugh. “He will betray you the instant he thinks it advantageous. Surely you have realized that by now.”
    “Of course I did,” said Cassander. “From the moment I met the man. And do you