Ghost Keeper Read Online Free PDF

rod.” He held out the silver rod. “I need both hands to pick the lock.” He grinned. “That is what you meant, right?”
    “Whatever else could I possibly have meant, sir?” said Caina. 
    He winked, went to one knee, and started on the lock. Caina turned to watch the stairs as his tools clicked against the lock’s tumblers. A strange mixture of unease and enjoyment went through her. She had only just met Aydin, but nonetheless she found herself drawn to him. As part of her various disguises, she had casually flirted with any number of men since coming to Istarinmul, but that had only been a mask. She had meant it with Aydin, and that was the first time she had meant it since…
    She blinked. 
    Since Corvalis had died. 
    A wave of shame went through her. Corvalis had been dead for over a year. Soon it would be two years. She didn’t really want to be alone any longer, but her life did not lend itself to companionship. Grand Master Callatas, the Umbarian Order, and the Brotherhood of Slavers all wanted her dead. They would not hesitate to use anyone close to her as leverage. For that matter, she knew what it was like to lose a lover. How could she inflict that upon anyone? She…
    The lock clicked. 
    “Done,” said Aydin, straightening up. He grinned. “You can let go of my rod now.”
    “You sound disappointed,” said Caina, handing it back. 
    She rebuked herself. Breaking into the sanctum of a powerful, deadly necromancer was not the time to be thinking of such things. For that matter, she knew nothing significant about Aydin Kirshar. He could still be a Teskilati agent or an Umbarian assassin.
    He could be married, for all she knew. 
    “Well,” said Aydin, drawing his short sword and taking the rod in his left hand. “Maybe later. Shall we?”
    Caina nodded and pushed open the door. 
    Beyond was a narrow corridor, the walls smooth and unmarked. Another door, identical to the first, stood at the end of the corridor. Caina walked to the door, checked it for wards, and found nothing. 
    “It’s not even locked,” she muttered. 
    “Perhaps the Curator put all his trust in the first door,” said Aydin. 
    “He can’t possibly be that stupid,” said Caina. “Be on your guard.”
    Aydin nodded and raised his weapons, and Caina took a deep breath and swung open the door.
    Nothing happened, and she neither heard nor saw anything alarming.
    Caina stepped into the next room. It was a large rectangular chamber, built of the snowy Cyrican marble that the Curator preferred. Another door stood on the far end of the chamber, but the room held no furniture, save for a mirror in a wooden frame along the wall. Caina looked at the mirror with unease. It stood nearly seven feet tall and almost as wide, and it reminded her of the mirrors she had seen in Callatas’s wraithblood laboratories, the mirrors that acted as gates to the netherworld, drawing its power to charge the vials of wraithblood with corrupting energy.
    She felt a faint aura of sorcerous power around the mirror. Was it a Mirror of Worlds, a gate to the netherworld? The Curator was a necromancer, not an Alchemist, but if he was friends with the Master Alchemists, one of them might have taught him the secrets of making a gate to the netherworld. 
    “Nothing,” said Aydin. He sounded disappointed. “We’ll check the next room.” 
    “Don’t look at the mirror,” said Caina, even as he turned to look at it.
    “The mirror?” said Aydin. “Why not?”
    “It’s enspelled,” said Caina. “I’m not sure what kind of a spell.” Aydin stared at the glass, a strange expression coming over his features. “Stop looking at it.” 
    He muttered something with a shake of his head.
    Caina cursed, grabbed his arm, and yanked him back. He stumbled a few steps and caught his balance, moving away from the mirror. 
    Yet his reflection remained in the glass.
    “Oh, damn,” said Caina. She had seen this kind of spell before. “Aydin…”
    The