Ghost Ascension, Episode 19a

“No,” you say. “No. That wasn’t Korthion. That was the truth.”

Lucan smiles. “I love you, too.”

You sit in silence for a moment. The voices in your head are a distant murmur and hiss, but for once you are scarce aware of them.

“You’re a fool, you know,” you say at last. “And so am I. I’m a Ghost. I spy and kill for the Emperor. Sooner or later someone like Scarpian or Korthion is going to catch up to me. Korthion already caught up to me – I would be dead if Sophia hadn’t talked him out of killing me. And they’ll kill you, too.”

“We all die of something,” says Lucan. “I know the magi could kill me, but I would rather fight them than to stand by and let them continue their crimes unopposed.” His hand closes about yours. “And I know you think you’re a weapon, cold and merciless, and I know that you think anyone around you is in danger. Maybe you’re right. But I would rather take the risk.”

You look at him in silence for a long time.

“I love you, too,” you say. “You’re still a fool, though.”

Lucan laughs, and helps you to your feet. “Unquestionably. Shall we go do something foolish?”

You blink in astonishment at his boldness, and then realize that he’s talking about the Ascendant Bloodcrystal.

“Yes,” you say, feeling a touch of guilt. Korthion is preparing to slaughter innocents, and here you are sharing your heart with Lucan. But perhaps it needed to be said – if you are going to die today, you are glad you said it. “Yes, let’s get moving.”

You led the way into the darkened passageway, the sickly green glow drawing nearer, while Lucan follows with lantern and sword at the ready. Three times in the narrow hallway you spot mechanical traps built into the walls and floor – poisoned needles, spikes erupting from hitting slots, the sort of petty mechanical toys the magi of the Fourth Empire loved so much. Three times you disable the traps and keep going.

Then the stone corridor widens into a high vaulted chamber, and you see a different sort of trap entirely.

Your skin crawls with the presence of potent sorcery.

A pale green light fills the room, and sigils of emerald fire writhe and dance upon the marble walls. Dozens of marble tiles cover the floor, each carved with a different symbol. An eagle, symbol of the Empire. A globe, a symbol of the world. A book with an eye upon the pages, symbol of the magi. A sword laid over a shield, symbol of the Imperial Legions.

On the far side of the tiled floor opens another archway, another green glow shining in its depths.

“Oh, damn it,” mutters Lucan.

“You know what this is?” you say.

“A ward,” says Lucan. “The Fourth Empire magi knew how to build these. It’s partly a trap, and partly a riddle. You see how those symbols repeat over and over again? It’s only safe to step on one of them. Stepping on the wrong symbol will trigger that ward, which will do…bad things.”

“Do you know which symbol is safe?”

“No,” says Lucan. “Each one of these wards were built differently.”

You nod, produce a throwing knife, and toss it onto the nearest tile with the eagle symbol of the Empire.

“Won’t work,” says Lucan. “The spells laid upon the tiles only respond to the presence of living flesh.”

You nod again, thinking it over.

Your shadow-cloak might -might- prevent the wards from sensing your presence. But the magi of the Fourth Empire were vastly more powerful than the magi of today, and the strength of their wards might pierce your cloak’s protection.

But the room is a riddle, isn’t it? This is Anacepheon’s tomb, and you have to think like the magi of the Fourth Empire, like the dead Emperor Anacepheon. Anacepheon was a magus-emperor, proud and arrogant, and viewed himself as the rightful master of the Empire and the world.

What would Anacepheon have trampled underfoot?

You take a deep breath and start to step forward…

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