Ghost in the Razor by Jonathan Moeller Page A

mostly.” He looked down. “I hope I didn’t get any blood on my shirt. That would be embarrassing for me.” 
    Two of the Adamant Guards roared and charged at Markaine, while the other two resumed their attack upon Kylon. Caina braced herself, preparing to strike. Markaine only rolled his shoulders, the sword’s slender tip bobbing before him.
    He threw the weapon at the charging Guards.
    It was a futile, ineffective move. The slender sword did not have the weight or speed to penetrate the Guards’ armor. It didn’t even get that far. One of the Guards swept his sword before him, sending the thin blade spinning away.
    That gave Markaine time to reach into his coat.
    His right hand came out holding a long black dagger, and Caina felt a surge of sorcerous power from the weapon.
    She had never seen a dagger quite like it. It was a foot long, and it was blacker than any steel she had ever seen, darker than even the armor of an Imperial Guard. The only color in the weapon was a round red gem, possibly a red pearl or a ruby, set into the dagger’s pommel. It looked like a baleful red eye. 
    The nearest Adamant Guard slashed at him, and Markaine raised his dagger in a useless block. The broadsword came down, and the black dagger cut through the sword as if it had been made of wet paper. Two-thirds of the blade clattered to the ground, the cut end glowing white-hot. The Adamant Guard stumbled, and Markaine slashed. The dagger sank into the Adamant Guard’s chest, ripping him open from throat to groin as the black blade parted the steel plate like soft cheese. The Adamant Guard toppled to his knees as his guts fell out, the slashed plates of his armor glowing, the broken end of his ribs smoking. 
    The sorcerous aura surrounding the black dagger grew stronger.
    The second Guard attacked Markaine, Caina forgotten. Markaine spun past the Guard’s attack and drove his black dagger into the Guard’s arm. The Adamant Guard showed no sign of pain at the wound, but Caina felt another surge of power from the black dagger.
    The Guard burst into howling flames, the fire erupting from beneath his skin. 
    Markaine jumped back, as did Caina, and the Adamant Guard let out a horrified, agonizing scream. The stench of burning flesh flooded Caina’s nostrils, reminding her of the pyromantic sorcery she had seen Kalastus use in Rasadda years ago. The Guard staggered forward, and Caina feared that he would engulf her in a fiery embrace.
    The burning man collapsed in silence, a thick plume of greasy smoke rising from his blackening corpse. 
    Caina looked at Markaine, at the black dagger with the glowing red gem in the pommel. Morgant the Razor, all the old tales had called the feared assassin. According to the stories, the name of the Razor had come from his favorite weapon. A black dagger with a red pearl in the pommel, a dagger that left such fine, precise cuts that it could have been a razor…
    She met Markaine’s pale blue eyes and he grinned. 
    “Ah, there we go,” he said. “There’s the realization. Figured it out yet, have you?”
    Caina ran for Kylon, intending to aid him against the remaining two Adamant Guards. Once Kylon was safe and they were clear, they could figure out what to do about Markaine of Caer Marist. 
    Or Morgant the Razor, assuming Markaine was not just a madman with an enspelled dagger. 
    As she ran, one of the windows overhead exploded in a fireball.
    The Sifter leapt out of the blast and landed ten feet in front of Caina.

    ###

    The heat from the explosion washed over Kylon, and he staggered back a step. It also staggered the Adamant Guards, and he at last had an opening. He whipped his sword around in a two-handed swing, all his storm-enhanced strength driving the blow, and took off the head of the nearest Adamant Guard. Blood fountained from the stump of the Guard’s neck, and the man collapsed in silence, his head rolling away. 
    The second Guard struck even as the burning Sifter strode towards