Ghost in the Inferno (Ghost Exile #5) by Jonathan Moeller Page A

you wish,” said Kylon, “but you will not like how it ends. Not at all.”
    Morgant’s smile only widened at that. Damned madman.
    Kylon turned back towards the coffee house as Caina emerged from the door. Relief flooded through him. She was better at handling Morgant than he was, and always seemed to have a witty answer to his endless verbal barbs. Maybe…
    Caina froze on the front step of the coffee house, and he felt the jolt of alarm go through her sense. 
    “What is it?” said Morgant. He was no stormdancer, but he too had noticed Caina’s alarm.
    “I don’t know,” said Kylon, looking around. The traffic and business of the Bazaar proceeded uninterrupted. A few watchmen strolled through the crowd, but they merely seemed vigilant, not alarmed. Kylon saw no sign of any enemies. 
    Caina bent and picked up something small and shining from the ground. Kylon walked to join her, and Morgant followed him. 
    “What is it?” said Kylon said to her.
    “This knife,” she said, holding it out. It was a small, curved, delicate-looking weapon. Kylon would have thought it was a throwing knife, but the curved blade made it useless for that. “Did you see who dropped it?”
    Kylon shook his head. “It was in the dust?”
    “Stupid thing,” said Morgant. “It would snap if you used it for anything serious. I suppose you could use it to cut canvas for a painting, but it wouldn’t be good for much else. Slicing soft cheese, perhaps.” 
    Caina shook her head. “This is the second one I’ve found. There was an identical one outside one of my safe houses yesterday.”
    “What is the significance of that?” said Kylon. 
    “It means,” said Morgant, “that someone is trying to send her a message. Are all Kyracians so inept at intrigue? Little wonder New Kyre didn’t win the war…”
    “Two hundred years old and you don’t recognize this kind of knife?” snapped Caina. “Be quiet unless you have something useful to say.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and Kylon was surprised at the strength of her reaction. She rarely let any emotion show unless it was part of her disguise. Finding the knife had disturbed her more than she wanted to let on. “No. We’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”
    “What now, then?” said Kylon. It didn’t make any sense. If one of Caina’s enemies had found her, why bother leaving knives in the dust? Why not just show up with a century of Immortals and kill her? 
    “We’ll keep to the plan for now,” said Caina. “I want to leave tomorrow to catch Kuldan Cimak’s caravan, and if someone is following me…well, a few hundred armed mercenaries might teach him better manners. Let’s go.” 
    Kylon nodded, and they walked from the Cyrican Bazaar, Morgant trailing after them like a shadow. 
    No enemies showed themselves.

Chapter 6: A Little Task
     
    The next morning Caina walked into the Bazaar of the Southern Road, adjusting her threadbare cloak. 
    Today she had returned to one her most useful disguises, a ragged caravan guard in leather armor with a dusty cloak and boots and worn old trousers, sword and dagger at her belt. A cheap turban covered her short hair, aiding her disguise and having the pleasant side effect of keeping the sun off her head. Countless caravans passed through Istarinmul, and every single one of those caravans hired guards to ward off bandits and raiders. One more caravan guard would not draw notice. 
    Especially now that the countryside was so unsafe. 
    The valikon rested under her arm, wrapped in its bundle. Upon her left wrist she wore a bronze-colored bracelet of delicate design. It had been Annarah’s pyrikon, and the thing had been linked to Caina ever since she had stolen it from the laboratory of a Master Alchemist. Perhaps she would soon have the chance to return it to Annarah.
    She threaded through the crowds filling the Bazaar of the Southern Road. The caravanserai waited outside of Istarinmul’s southern wall, and