Ghost Aria (3 page)

Caina blinked. “You mean he was wearing livery?”

“Yes, that is the word,” said Halaam. “Livery.”

“The handsome man’s black coat,” said Caina. “Did it have golden trim?”

“Yes,” said Halaam, “now that you mention it, upon the cuffs and hem.”

“Have you ever been to the Grand Imperial Opera?” said Caina.

Halaam laughed. “What? Ridiculous. Why the high lords enjoy opera, I’ll never understand. In Anshan, the nobles amuse themselves with hunting and blood sport, as proper nobles should.”

“Indeed,” said Caina, a dark suspicion hardening in her mind. She cut the ropes binding Halaam’s wrists and ankles. “Go dispose of the corpse. But if I catch you selling poisons again, you’ll join him.”

Halaam scrambled to his feet, vowing to obey.

###

The following night the men and women of the Grand Imperial Opera scrambled to prepare for another performance.

Caina had already made her own preparations. 

Once she was ready, she donned her maid’s dress of black and gold and made her way past the balconies. The chorus stood on stage, singing the opera’s opening scene as men in stylized Nighmarian armor and barbarian costumes fought an elaborate battle before the audience. Caina knew that real fights were often decided in mere heartbeats. 

Like tonight. 

In the next hour, she would either know who had brought the poison into the opera and why, or she would be dead. 

Caina hurried through the aisles. The nobles and the merchants often liked to write brief notes to each other during the performance, and tonight the Seneschal had her carrying those messages. A different crowd of nobles occupied the boxes, though she saw Gallus Tomerius scowling at the stage in his usual spot. 

She reached the end of the aisle and stopped before Murdock, and the footman looked at her in surprise.

“What is it this time?” said Murdock, grinning. “Shall I deliver wine to a beggar for you, hmm? Or are you going to inspire another guard to a fit, and you need me to carry out the corpse?”

Caina hesitated, licked her lips, and then handed him a note.

“You should read that,” she said.

Before Murdock answered she turned and walked away. 

Caina hastened to the workshop below the stage and slipped into one of the side rooms. The room had a long plank table, and the chorus singers ate their meals here. With the singers busy on stage, the room would be deserted for another few hours.

Plenty of time for what she had in mind. 

A pair of wine glasses and a pitcher sat upon the table, filled with dark red wine. One glass was already half-empty. Caina sat at the table and picked up the half-empty glass, rolling the stem between her fingers as if she was nervous. She checked the throwing knives hidden in her sleeves, the daggers concealed in her boots, and waited.

She did not wait long.

Murdock stepped into the room, his boots making no sound against the floor. He was smiling, but the smile did not reach his eyes.

He looked like a cat contemplating a mouse.

“Well,” he said. “Little Marina. Who would have thought?”

Caina looked at him and feigned a tremulous smile. “So…you came? My note was so bold. But…” 

Murdock waved a dismissive hand and sat across from her, his eyes never leaving her face. “No need to be frightened, my dear. A girl as lovely as you should never be lonely.” His eyes glinted. “And I can make sure that you’re not lonely.” 

Caina took a sip from her glass, lifted the pitcher of wine, refilled her glass, and poured more into Murdock’s. A slight twitch of his left eyebrow betrayed his surprise, but he gave no other sign. “I just…forgive me, I’ve never done anything like this before, and I’m so nervous.” She took another sip of wine. “My belly feels like it’s spinning.” 

“Here,” said Murdock, passing her his glass. “Have a sip of mine, as well. It will help calm you.”

“Oh…thank you,” said Caina, smiling. She took a sip from Murdock’s glass, and his smile widened. Gods, but she hated the taste of wine. “I would…I would feel bad if I drank it all.”

“You shouldn’t,” said Murdock, taking the glass back. “You’re too small to drink so much.” He smiled. “Why don’t you finish that wine, take off your dress, and come over here?”

Caina grinned and set down the wine. “Or you could tell me why a Kindred assassin is working as a footman at the Grand Imperial Opera.”

Murdock laughed. “A Kindred assassin? Is this some sort of deranged fantasy of yours, girl? A romp with a Kindred assassin?” He leaned closer, smirking. “I’ll pretend to be a Kindred assassin for you …”

“You’re reaching,” said Caina, “for the dagger in the left pocket of your coat. There’s also another in the back of your belt, and a knife in your boot. And probably one or two other weapons I haven’t spotted yet.”

Murdock stared at her, his face hardening into a cold, emotionless mask. She knew enough about the Kindred to guess what he was thinking. His training had taken over, and he was considering killing her. But he was wondering if she had been foolish enough to confront him alone, and if she had armed allies waiting outside the room. 

“And,” said Caina, “you’re thinking about killing me and walking away before anyone notices. I strongly suggest against that if you want to live out the next hour.”

“I admit,” said Murdock, “you had me completely fooled. I thought you Theodosia’s brainless little pet.” He shrugged in indifference. “We always knew the Ghosts had infiltrated the Grand Imperial Opera. But I never thought you were one of them.”

“Flattery is useless,” said Caina. “I merely want the answers to a few questions.”

Murdock’s cold expression did not change. “And you have no means of compelling those answers.”

“No?” said Caina. “Very well. I’ll tell you a story, then. It’s a very romantic story about a merchant’s daughter named Lucinda who fell in love with a carpenter named Tollard. A carpenter can find steady work, and would make a fine husband for most women. Lucinda certainly thought so. But her father disagreed.”

Murdock said nothing. Caina kept a close watch on his arms.

“He tried to forbid Lucinda from marrying Tollard,” said Caina, “but she did it anyway. He cut her off financially, but she was happier as Tollard’s wife and a costumer at the opera than she was as a rich merchant’s daughter. And given that her father wanted to wed her to some fat old lord with more titles than gold, who can blame her?” 

“This,” said Murdock, “sounds like the fanciful plot of an opera. Perhaps you ought to write one yourself.”

“Gallus Tomerius decided to have Tollard killed,” said Caina. “But he couldn’t just have his throat cut. Lucinda would never forgive him. So Tollard’s death had to look natural. Gallus could play the loving father, comfort his mourning daughter, and then marry her off to some impoverished noble.”

“Such,” said Murdock, “a compelling tale. Truly, I’m enthralled. Do go on.”

“Master Gallus hired the Kindred to kill Tollard and make it look like a natural death,” said Caina. “You received the task, along with your partner. You acquired a rare poison called the harlot’s kiss that stops the heart, and you waited for a chance to dose it in Tollard’s wine. But Tollard never drinks while he’s working. Which means when I asked you to take him wine, you saw your chance. But you made a mistake. Instead of taking it to him yourself, you saw a perfect chance to deflect any possible suspicion from yourself. You dosed one of the glasses on my tray with the harlot’s kiss, and sent me off to kill Tollard. But Lord Arcus’s guard grabbed the glass…and here we are.”

“You,” said Murdock, “are a very dangerous little girl.”

“As I said, flattery will get you nowhere,” said Caina. 

“You realize, of course,” said Murdock, “that you’ve signed Halaam’s death warrant?”

“Unlikely,” said Caina, “because you’re surprised. You came here expecting a romp with the maid, not this. After the guard’s death, you feared someone might investigate. So you sent a man to watch Halaam’s shop, knowing that he would warn you if someone showed up asking questions.”

“Except,” said Murdock, “the Ghosts killed my partner, and sent you to confront me. Is that the way of it?”

“Yes,” said Caina.

“Clever,” said Murdock. “I am impressed. Very well. I admit it all, Ghost. Gallus Tomerius hired us to kill his daughter’s husband and make it look like a natural death. I think the fat old fool actually loves the shrill bitch, and thinks he’s doing her a favor by killing off the idiot carpenter and marrying her to some bankrupt lord.” 

Then he grinned. He no longer looked like a cat considering a mouse.

Now he looked like a wolf approaching cornered prey. 

“But for all your cleverness,” said Murdock, “you are a fool.”

“Do explain,” said Caina.

“You came here alone,” said Murdock, his eyes glinting with anticipation. 

Caina felt a flicker of fear. 

“I have armed men waiting just outside,” said Caina.

“No, you don’t,” said Murdock. “You just wanted me to confess. If you had known everything for certain, you wouldn’t have bothered with this ridiculous game. You’d just have arranged my death, though why the Ghosts care about a carpenter’s wife, I have no idea. Instead, you thought you’d be the heroine of your own little opera, hmm? Trick the evil assassin into confessing, and then run to your circlemaster in triumph?”

“I think that,” said Caina, “is a fine tale.”

“I agree,” said Murdock. He stood with a single smooth motion. “Except I like my ending better, the one where the militia finds your naked corpse floating in the harbor.”

A dagger appeared in his hand. 

“I wonder,” he murmured, “how many different ways I can make you scream?” 

“Given that I am the only one who can save your life,” said Caina, “I would not recommend that.” She tried to make herself seem frightened. It wasn’t hard.

“Why is that?” said Murdock, grinning.

“I took more than knowledge from Halaam’s shop,” said Caina. “I took the rest of his harlot’s kiss, and poured it into the wine you just drank.”

Murdock laughed. “You lie poorly. You drank that wine as well.”

“Only after,” said Caina, “I drank the antidote I took from Halaam.”

A flicker of doubt crossed Murdock’s face.

“What a little fool you are,” said Murdock, his free hand dipping into his coat. A glass vial glittered in his fingers, and he downed the contents in one gulp. “How little you know of the Kindred. We are always prepared. When we employ poison against one of the sheep, we always keep the antidote close at hand.”

“You do?” said Caina, letting her eyes grow wide.

“We do,” said Murdock. “And now…”

“When you keep the antidote close at hand,” said Caina, “does that mean you keep it in the chest at the foot of your bed in the footmen’s quarters, beneath your spare coat?”

Murdock stared at her, blinking. 

“For a Kindred assassin,” said Caina, “you certainly sleep deeply.”

Murdock blinked again… and then his eyes widened as he realized just how badly he had been fooled.

He lunged for her with a snarl, and then his eyes bulged as the harlot’s kiss did its work. He fell across the table with a strangled cry of pain, his free hand clawing at his chest. He growled at her, his teeth grinding, but did not move any closer.

He didn’t have the strength.

“A priestess of Minaerys,” said Caina, “taught me how to calculate how quickly a drug affects a man of a given size. I’ll have to thank her for the lesson.”

Murdock jerked a few inches closer.

“If I write that opera of yours,” said Caina, “I’ll make sure to include a scene about the maid who talks the Kindred assassin into poisoning himself.”

Murdock snarled once more, rolled off the table, and stopped moving.

Caina waited a few moments and then checked to make sure he was dead. She relived the corpse of its weapons and cleaned up the wine glasses. After disposing of the evidence, she hurried back to the nobles’ boxes.

The Seneschal would be wroth if she missed her duties for the entire night.

And she had one more errand after the performance.

###

Gallus Tomerius, like many wealthy merchants, owned his own coach. After the opera, his driver opened the coach’s door, and Gallus heaved his bulk inside.

“Drive” snapped Gallus, settling himself on the cushioned seat. “I…”

Caina leaned forward, her face hidden behind a mask, her body wrapped in a black cloak, and clapped a gloved hand over Gallus’s mouth. The merchant started to struggle, and Caina rested the tip of her knife against the bottom of his lower left eyelid.

“Do not,” she rasped, speaking in a hideous, snarling voice that Theodosia had taught her, “scream.”

Gallus went rigid, and she felt him gag beneath her fingers. She had rolled her glove over rotting meat and powdered sulfur. The resultant stench was hideous. 

Theodosia had taught her the value of theatrics. 

“We know,” hissed Caina, “what you have done. We know how you hired the Kindred. You will cancel your contract with the Kindred and leave your daughter and her husband in peace. Else,” she remembered what Murdock had said, “else I shall learn how many ways you can scream.”

The stench of Gallus’s released bladder filled the coach. 

“Sir?” called the driver. “Sir?”

Caina released Gallus, slipped through the door on the far side of the coach, and vanished into the night.

###

A week later Caina stood with Theodosia in the workmen’s quarters.

Lucinda lay on the bed, utterly exhausted, but smiling as she cradled her infant son. 

“I’ve spoken with the Seneschal,” said Theodosia. “He was reluctant, but I persuaded him to give you as much time as you need to care for the babe.”

Lucinda smiled. “He shall be like Tollard, I think. A skilled carpenter, with strong hands. And I heard from my father!”

“Did you?” said Theodosia.

“He wrote asking for my forgiveness,” said Lucinda, “and has withdrawn his objection to my marriage.”

“Really?” said Theodosia, shooting a sidelong glance at Caina. “How remarkable. Well, I suppose grandchildren can change a man.”