Ghost in the Storm (The Ghosts) Read Online Free PDF Page A

mind. 
    She was in the middle of a battle. Worse, she was in the middle of a battle with a terrified six-year-old child. The Istarish were slavers, and if they had come to Marsis to take captives, a lone woman and a small child would make a tempting target. 
    She had to get away now. 
    Nicolai began crying, still tugging at her skirt.
    “We’re going home,” said Caina, “now.”
    She swung off the booth and dropped to the ground. Nicolai screamed and reached for her, and for a horrified instant Caina though a stray arrow or javelin had found him. Then she realized he was afraid she would abandon him on the top of the booth.
    She reached up, grabbed him, and ran. 
    Mayhem raged around her. Men and women fled in all directions. Some of the Istarish soldiers and Immortals attacked, cutting down their victims. Why were they attacking the commoners? Shouldn’t they be focusing on the Legionaries?
    A quick glance over her shoulder answered that question.
    Lord Corbould’s guard of Legionaries had collapsed, and there was no sign of the Lord Governor himself. The Immortals and the Istarish infantry swarmed over the remaining Legionaries. As Caina watched, Rezir Shahan himself galloped his horse at a Legionary, scimitar spinning in his fist.
    The Legionary flung a javelin. The spear struck true, slamming into Rezir’s chest with enough force to punch through his armor and burst out his back. The emir swayed in the saddle, and Caina expected him to fall to the ground.
    Instead he straightened up, face tight with pain, the emerald in his black ring flickering with green light. 
    His scimitar blurred, and the Legionary’s head rolled across the ground. Rezir wheeled his horse around and ripped the javelin from his chest. Blood flowed over his gilded armor, but Rezir did not seem discomforted in the slightest.
    The blood flow stopped.
    Necromancy. Drawn from that black ring on his finger, Caina suspected. If the bloodcrystal worked like others she had encountered, it would heal his wounds. 
    But that was a detail for later.
    An Immortal galloped toward her, chain whip swinging from his fist, and Caina saw eerie blue light in the black depths of his skull helm. The alchemical elixirs the Immortals ingested altered their eyes, causing that strange glow. She dodged into an empty booth, Nicolai shrieking in her arms, and the Immortal reined up. But Caina doubled back, raced past the rump of his horse, and ran into a maze of merchant stalls. A horseman could not follow her there.  
    And she had to escape. She had to tell Halfdan of Lord Corbould’s fate and Rezir’s treachery. More importantly, she had to get Nicolai to safety. For him to escape Jadriga’s knife, only to fall into the hands of Istarish slavers…she would not wish that kind of cruelty on anyone, and certainly not Nicolai.
    She heard a distant clang.
    Caina looked up, and saw the Citadel unleash its war engines.
    The Citadel sat atop a crag overlooking the harbor and the River Marentine, a massive squat fortress of grim stone. The slender dark shape of Black Angel Tower rose from its center, stark against the blue sky. Catapults and ballistae lined the walls of the Citadel, and began raining bolts and casts of burning pitch upon the Kyracian ships in the harbor. 
    Or, at least, they tried. Whether due to the incompetence of the Legionaries manning the Citadel, or because of the sharp wind, most of the missiles missed. Caina saw a ballista bolt slam into the Market, pinning a pair of fleeing men to the ground. A cask of burning pitch crashed into a nearby warehouse, setting it aflame. 
    Nicolai screamed, thrashing, and she struggled to keep her grip on him. Despite the horrors he had seen, nothing had prepared him for the sight of a battle. And if she let go, he would start running until he collapsed from exhaustion.
    Or until the Istarish took him. 
    She gritted her teeth and kept running. Overhead, the crews upon the Citadel walls corrected their aim,