Free Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 05 - Ghost in the Stone by Jonathan Moeller Page A

that someone wanted Lord Corbould dead. I asked for capable men to ferret out the Kindred. Instead he sends me an opera singer and her pet thug.”
    Theodosia smirked, and Marzhod’s venomous gaze turned towards Caina.
    “No,” said Marzhod. He leaned forward, cold eyes glinting. “A second woman? The Empire is at war, the Kindred are hunting the Emperor’s strongest ally, and Halfdan sends me a pair of women?”
    Caina looked at Theodosia, and Theodosia nodded.
    “Perhaps,” said Caina, “if you had been able to handle things, Halfdan would not have needed to send you a pair of women to solve your problems.” 
    “Do not,” said Marzhod, “think to trifle with me.” 
    “Or what?” said Caina. “You turn your slaves on me?” The rage in her chest coiled tighter. She knew she ought to moderate her tongue, but she was too angry to care. “The Ghosts fight slavers, and how many slaves do you own? Dozens? How many of them do you rent out to the sailors?” 
    “Slaves are a way of life in Cyrica,” said Marzhod. “You fools from Malarae like to think yourselves so righteous, so virtuous. So much better than us because you do not own slaves.” 
    “You’re Szaldic and a Ghost, not Cyrican,” said Caina. “Do you yourself Cyrican now?”
    “Neither,” said Marzhod. “I was a slave, once. The raiders took me when I was five. But I escaped and made a fortune for myself. I own every tavern, every wine sink, every brothel, and every pawnshop in Cyrioch. And most of the warehouses and customs inspectors. Every smuggler on the Cyrican Sea does business with me, if they want to dock in Cyrioch. No one crosses Marzhod and lives. Lord Armizid and Lord Khosrau might rule Cyrica…but I rule Cyrioch’s underworld.” 
    “So now you enslave others,” said Caina, “as you were enslaved.”
    “I was strong enough to survive it,” said Marzhod. He smirked. “Are you? You annoy me, girl. And perhaps I’ll have Saddiq give you to the slavers. I’ll wager you’re pretty enough under that disguise. You’ll fetch a fair price on the block. Then you’ll warm the bed of some minor satrap or emir until he tires of you. After that, you’ll toil in that satrap’s kitchen until you are a bent old crone. Maybe you’ll end your days on the streets of Istarinmul, begging for a crust of bread. That’s in my power to do to you, girl.” 
    “No,” said Caina, “it’s not.” 
    “And just why not?” said Marzhod. “Do you think the opera singer can stop me? My word is law among the Ghosts and the criminals of the Shining City. One word from me and you’ll be naked on the auction block. Or perhaps I’ll put you to work in one of my brothels.”
    “You won’t,” said Caina. 
    “Oh?” said Marzhod. “Why not?”
    “Because,” said Caina, “you should do a better job of hiding your weapons.” 
    She reached for one of the tables. Saddiq drew his scimitar, but Caina was faster. She grabbed the small crossbow she saw beneath a ledger and leveled the weapon at Marzhod’s face. 
    And just as she suspected, the weapon was loaded and ready to fire. 
    “That’s a hand crossbow,” said Marzhod, but he took a step back. “Just a dart. You’ll hurt me, but you can’t kill me.”
    “Unlikely,” said Caina. “I saw those bottles on your shelf. This dart’s poisoned, isn’t it? A lethal poison? Or just a paralytic?” She gestured with the bow. “Want to find out?”
    She heard a low rumbling sound, and realized that Saddiq was laughing. 
    “She’s got you, Marzhod,” said Saddiq.
    “Oh, shut up,” said Marzhod. 
    “Marzhod,” said Theodosia, “enough. It has been amusing to watch you attempt to bully a woman fifteen years your junior only to end up with the business end of a crossbow in your face. But we have work to do. And you know what Halfdan will do if you don’t cooperate.”
    A twitch of fear went over Marzhod’s face. 
    “What will Halfdan do?” said Caina.
    “Marzhod’s