Ghost Ascension, Episode 15a

“What?” snarls Korthion, glaring at Sophia.

“Killing them,” says Sophia, “would be quite counterproductive. And not even artistic, either, but that’s hardly the main point.”

“Do not question me!” screams Korthion, and he thrusts out his hand. Unseen force seizes Sophia and flings her into the wall, so hard that some of the skulls fall out of their niches and bounce across the floor. “Do not mock me!” The strange reverberation in his voice increases, until he sounds scarcely human. “I have conquered death! I am your Master!”

“You are,” says Sophia, staggering back to her feet, “but for how much longer?”

Korthion falls silent.

“So kill them now,” says Sophia, smiling. “But how much time do you have left? Ten months?”

“I have more than adequate time,” says Korthion.

“You say that now,” says Sophia, “at ten months. But will you say the same when only ten weeks remain? Ten days? When only ten heartbeats are left to you? And when those ten heartbeats slip away, do you think you will curse this day? Do you think you will regret letting this opportunity slip through your fingers?”

“Silence!” says Korthion.

“Besides,” says Sophia, glancing at you, “if you will them, you’ll never get what you want out of the Countess. She’s rather fond of the handsome one, I understand.”

“I do not need you to handle the Countess,” says Korthion.

Sophia laughed. “Yes. You handled her so well the first time, after all. Well. Comedy is a form of art, some say.”

Korthion’s hands clench into fists, and the muscles of his face go into an utterly inhuman spasm of rage and frustration.

“Listen to me, Lucan Maraeus,” he says. “Do you know where Caina Amalas is?”

“Yes,” says Lucan. He doesn’t look at you. “Yes, I do.”

“You will go to her,” says Korthion. “You will tell her to go to the tomb of the Emperor Anacepheon, in the Valley of the Emperors. Inside the burial chamber is a uncut black gem the size of a man’s fist. She will take that gem from the tomb and bring it to me.”

“Or what?” says Lucan. “You’ll kill me? She’ll never cooperate, even if you do that.”

Korthion’s gray face twitches into a ghastly approximation of a smile. A rictus, really.

“No,” he says. “Instead, I will kill children. The Countess was so wroth when I slew a child to empower my spells during our last encounter. So. This is what you will tell the Countess. Tell her she will bring me the gem from Anacepheon’s tomb. Or I will find children. I will kill them. I will kill them in front of their mothers.”

“If you go on a rampage like that,” says Lucan, “you’ll bring the Ghosts and the Imperial Guard down on your head. Even the Magisterium will come after you. Your pet assassin murdered Scarpian, and they won’t let a rogue sorcerer run amok through Malarae.”

“I am already dead,” says Korthion. “And let the fools come. I will show them the power death can wield. And even if I am destroyed, the Countess will not care.” Again the rictus covers his face. “For all those children will lie cold and dead in their mothers’ arms, and the blood shall be upon her hands. Now, go! Go and carry my message to her! Before I change my mind.”

He flicks his wrist, and invisible force throws Lucan and Ark towards the stairs.

“Yes,” says Sophia, looking at you again, “do go. The art I have in mind will not be accomplished by tarrying.”

Lucan and Ark gain their feet, and look at you. You nod, and the three of you leave Skullyard Court, Korthion and Sophia staring after you.

Soon you return to the alley near Via Triumphalis, and you’ve never seen so grateful to see the sun in your life.

“That could have gone better,” Ark says.

“We’re still alive,” says Lucan. He reached over, touches your elbow, and you do not pull away. “I assume we’re going to stop Korthion?”

You nod.

“How?”

That is a very good question.

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