Free Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 09 - Ghost in the Surge by Jonathan Moeller Page B

Calvarium. 
    Shaizid led them across the floor, through the kitchen, and to the cellar. Two men and two women awaited them there. Ark recognized Theodosia at once. Next to her stood a nervous-looking young woman in a simple gown, wearing a belt with many pouches. To judge from her blond hair and bright green eyes, Ark suspected she was Corvalis’s younger sister Claudia Aberon, a magus who had left the Magisterium and joined the Ghosts. A man with the look of a Nighmarian lord stood next to her, his black hair dusted with gray, and to judge from his posture, he knew how to use the sword at his belt. Likely that man was Martin Dorius, Lord Governor of Caeria Ulterior, whom Caina had more or less coerced into joining the Ghosts. 
    Ark had never met the man standing in the center of the cellar. He was in his middle forties, tall and lean and gaunt, with eyes like pools of blue ice. His hair was so blond that Ark mistook it for white at first, and his black coat had been trimmed with red. A sword and dagger waited in sheaths at his belt.
    This had to be Lord Aeolus, one of the high circlemasters.
    “Ah,” said Aeolus in his cold voice. “The Champion of Marsis has come. Good. Now we can discuss how to defend our Emperor…and to deal with the traitor in our midst.”
     
    ###
     
    Claudia Aberon had seen frightening things.
    Her father’s fury. The golden light of the earth elemental washing over her, turning her living flesh to cold stone. Caina and Mihaela battling each other using suits of glypharmor, and the sorcerous fury of Rhames in the ruined heart of Caer Magia.
    Lord Aeolus unsettled her at least as much of any of them. Halfdan was a high circlemaster, but he cloaked his ruthlessness and intelligence with rough charm. Aeolus made no such efforts. 
    She shied a little closer to her betrothed, Lord Martin Dorius. The Lord Governor of Caeria Ulterior was a reassuring presence, a man who would not quail before anyone, whether an ancient Maatish necromancer or the chief circlemaster of the Ghosts. That thought made Claudia feel better. She had faced a Maatish Great Necromancer wielding an artifact of tremendous power and survived.
    Yet Aeolus still unsettled her. 
    “I refuse to believe,” said Ark, “that Caina Amalas had anything to do with these murders.”
    Aeolus lifted a pale eyebrow. “Do you doubt the evidence of your own eyes, Champion?” His voice was as cold and emotionless as his eyes. “She murdered nineteen of our brothers and sisters across Malarae in a space of a day, and then killed seven of your workers, all of them Ghosts. From what I have heard, you identified the attacker as Caina Amalas, as did your wife, and both of you know her well. Were you mistaken?”
    Claudia saw a vein pulse in Ark’s temple. He was a big man, bigger than Martin, with arms like tree trunks and the stance of a Legion veteran. She had heard bits and pieces about his time with Caina, how Caina had rescued his wife and son from slavers.
    “No,” said Ark, “I’m not blind. It looked like her. But it only looked like her. It wasn’t really her.”
    “Why not?” said Aeolus.
    “Because,” said Theodosia with a disdainful sniff. “She would not betray us like that.”
    “And she hates sorcery,” said Ark. Claudia knew that well. “The creature I fought cast a spell. Caina has no ability at sorcery.”
    “Perhaps she learned,” said Aeolus. 
    “In the two weeks since I saw her last?” said Theodosia. “Forgive me, Lord Aeolus, but while Caina is clever, no one is that clever.”
    “She may have been practicing the arcane sciences in secret for some time,” said Aeolus. 
    “That is unlikely,” said Ark.
    “Is it?” said Aeolus. “According to Halfdan’s letters, she was possessed by the spirit of the Moroaica for nearly year. He claims that the spirit could not control her, but I have my doubts. What if the spirit never left, and controls her still? Or what if it corrupted her mind and bestowed