Free Ghost in the Cowl by Jonathan Moeller

don’t know,” said Caina, wondering how Damla would react. She had not expected Damla to realize that she was a Ghost, but the older woman was no fool. “Every last Ghost in Istarinmul disappeared about a year ago. We assumed the Teskilati did it.”
    “The Teskilati,” said Damla, “if they knew you were here, that you were staying under my roof, they would have me arrested, dragged before the Court of Treason, and the Grand Wazir would order my execution before the day was done.”
    Caina saw Damla wavering.
    “The same Grand Wazir,” said Caina, “who will not lift a finger to save your son? The same Grand Wazir whose magistrates would only shrug if you proved the Writ of Servitude was false?” 
    Damla sighed. “True. I suppose…I suppose I must turn to anyone who will give me aid. Even a Ghost, assuming you’re not just a madwoman.”
    “I likely am,” said Caina, “and I cannot tell you who I really am, but I will tell you this. I have done this before. I have freed slaves. I have done things, Damla, and seen things I cannot forget. I have been to the netherworld twice, and lived both times.” Though Corvalis had not. “I stopped a madman from using his pyromancy to burn Rasadda to ashes. I was at Marsis when the Istarish and the Kyracians attacked, and I saw their stormsingers call down the lightning. I have seen the fire in the heart of the Tower of Study in Catekharon, and I saw the souls of living men bound to suits of sorcerous armor. And I was there when the golden fire began in the sky over New Kyre.”
    There was a long silence. 
    “By the Living Flame,” muttered Damla. “You’re telling the truth, aren’t you? Or at least you think you are.”
    “I promise you this,” said Caina. “If it is in my power to find a way to save Bayram and Bahad, I shall.”
    “So be it,” said Damla. “I place myself in your hands, Ghost. It seems I have little choice in the matter.”
    “But I warn you,” said Caina. “We shall likely have to do some strange and dangerous things before this is done, and we could both be killed.”
    “I will do anything to save my sons,” said Damla.
    “Good,” said Caina, drawing another robe from the wardrobe. “You can start by changing clothes.” 

Chapter 6 - The Circus Master
    A short time later they stood outside the Inn of the Crescent Moon.
    “Who are all these people?” said Damla. 
    Caina adjusted the leather satchel she carried, the strap digging into her shoulder. 
    “They are,” she said, “Master Cronmer’s Traveling Circus Of Wonders And Marvels.”
    Caina had stayed in more inns that she could remember, and the Inn of the Crescent Moon, despite its Istarish architecture, looked a great deal like many other middling inns she had visited. It stood five stories tall, with the usual whitewashed walls and arched windows of Istarish buildings, though mosaics of gazelles and lions ornamented the doorframes. A wide courtyard surrounded the inn, ringed by a low stone wall.
    Currently, Master Cronmer’s Traveling Circus Of Wonders And Marvels filled the courtyard to capacity. 
    Caina had not expected there to be so many of them.
    Captain Qalim’s vessel had been large enough for many passengers and cargo, but Caina had been so wrapped in her own misery that she had failed to notice. She rebuked herself. She was about to go into deadly danger, and failure to notice a single critical detail could mean her death. 
    Or, worse, that she would not find a way to free Bayram and Bahad. 
    So she looked over the Circus’s assembled performers.
    She saw jugglers tossing balls into the air and catching them. In one corner acrobats practiced, men and women spinning through elaborate tumbles. A group of men dressed in the ragged finery of clowns applied makeup, the paint transforming their faces into elaborate and comic caricatures. At least, they were supposed be comic. Caina had always found clowns rather unsettling. 
    Her mother, of course, had