Ghost Dagger

By Jonathan Moeller

Caina is a Ghost nightfighter, one of the Emperor of Nighmar’s elite spies and assassins. She has defeated powerful sorcerers and thrown down corrupt lords.

Yet can she defeat her own memories?

Sent to solve a series of bizarre murders, Caina faces an enemy capable of twisting her thoughts. And this time, all of Caina’s skill might not save her.

For how can she defeat a foe who wields her own memories as weapons?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jonathan Moeller
• Release date: Aug 21, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476035529

Jonathan Moeller

Standing over six feet tall, Jonathan Moeller has the piercing blue eyes of a Conan of Cimmeria, the bronze-colored hair of a Visigothic warrior-king, and the stern visage of a captain of men, none of which are useful in his career as a computer repairman, alas.He has written the "Demonsouled" trilogy of sword-and-sorcery novels, and continues to write the "Ghosts" sequence about assassin and spy Caina Amalas, the "$0.99 Beginner's Guide" series of computer books, and numerous other works.Visit his website at:http://www.jonathanmoeller.comVisit his technology blog at:http://www.jonathanmoeller.com/screed

Book preview

GHOST DAGGER

Jonathan Moeller

Description

Caina is a Ghost nightfighter, one of the Emperor of Nighmar’s elite spies and assassins. She has defeated powerful sorcerers and thrown down corrupt lords.

Yet can she defeat her own memories?

Sent to solve a series of bizarre murders, Caina faces an enemy capable of twisting her own thoughts. And this time, all of Caina’s skill might not save her. 

For how can she defeat a foe who wields her own memories as weapons?

Other books by the author

The Third Soul Series

The Testing

The Assassins

The Blood Shaman

The High Demon

Computer Beginner's Guides

The Ubuntu Beginner's Guide

The Windows Command Line Beginner's Guide

The Linux Command Line Beginner's Guide

The Ghosts Series

Child of the Ghosts

Ghost in the Flames

Ghost in the Blood

Ghost in the Storm

Ghost Dagger: a stand-alone novella

The Demonsouled Series

Demonsouled

Soul of Tyrants

Soul of Serpents

Soul of Dragons

Soul of Sorcery

The Tower of Endless Worlds Series

The Tower of Endless Worlds

A Knight of the Sacred Blade

A Wizard of the White Council

The Destroyer of Worlds

$1.99 Dark Fantasy

Driven and Other Stories

The Devil's Agent

Angel Sword and Other Stories

Ghost Dagger

Jonathan Moeller

Copyright 2012 by Jonathan Moeller

Smashwords Edition

Cover image copyright Oleg Shipov | Dreamstime.com

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination, or, if real, used fictitiously. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the express written permission of the author or publisher, except where permitted by law. 

Chapter 1 – Foretelling

Blood and fire filled the dreams of Caina Amalas.

In one dream she was a girl of eleven, running through darkened corridors to find her father. She burst through the door into his library, certain she would find him working late into the night at his desk. He would comfort her, tell her that everything would be all right.

Instead her father slumped with his eyes glassy and his face slack, his mind destroyed by her mother’s sorcery. 

Caina screamed.

In another dream she stood atop a high tower, a storm raging overhead, the Imperial capital spread out beneath her. A great black crystal stood near her, pulsing with an inner green glow. It had been made from her blood, and grown bloated with the lives of the innocent. Maglarion, the sorcerer who had taught her mother, turned to face her, a crystal of green fire burning in his left eye.

He clapped his hands, and black blood erupted from the crystal, drowning the world. 

In a third dream she stood in the cellar of a watchtower, gazing upon the twisted corpse of Alastair Corus, the only man she had ever taken into her bed. She had not loved him, but she had not wished for him to die in agony from Maglarion's necromancy. 

Then the corpse stirred, green fire blazing in its empty eyes, fingers reaching for her throat. 

In the final dream she stood atop a black pyramid, the sky burning. A pyre blazed before atop the pyramid, the tomb of a sorcerer-king. A man in the black robes of a master magus stalked towards her, the fire painting his gaunt face with the color of blood.

He pointed at her, fire blazing around his fingers, and the world disappeared in flames…

###

Caina awoke gasping, sweat drenching her face and thin shift. 

For a moment of panicked disorientation could not remember where she was. She lay upon on a narrow bed in a small room, the walls built of rough-hewn stone. A wooden chest and a stool were the only other furnishings, and the faintest hint of dawn light leaked through the boards of the door. For a terrible instant she saw Maglarion standing in the corner of the room, or perhaps Kalastus, the fire of his sorcery crackling around his fingers. 

But the last echoes of the dream faded, and Caina saw only her small room in the Vineyard’s outer wall.

Dreams. They had been only dreams.

Caina swung her feet to the floor and pushed the sweaty hair from her face.

Scars of the mind, she whispered. 

Halfdan had told her that just as wounds left scars upon the flesh, so too did pain leave nightmares upon the mind. And Caina had scars upon her mind, so many scars. She was only nineteen, but sometimes it felt as if she had lived a hundred years, all of them filled with pain and horror. 

She shivered as the sweat cooled against her skin. The nightmares had left her feeling utterly alone. She had suffered so much pain, and all for what? A cold room and an empty bed?

Her right hand curled into a fist.

But if she had not fought Kalastus, he would have burned Rasadda to cinders. A quarter of a million men, women, and children would have perished in his pyromancy. 

And if she had not stopped Maglarion, he would have destroyed the Imperial capital, killing over a million people, and thousands more as the Empire collapsed into civil war. 

She was a Ghost nightfighter, a spy and assassin in service of the Emperor, and if not for the pain she had endured, so many people would have died.

Surely the nightmares were a small price to pay for that. 

But still she felt cold and tired.

There was only one cure for that.

Caina rose from her bed and stretched, loosening her muscles. Her limbs flowed through the movements Akragas had taught her as they sparred every morning in the shadow of the Vineyard’s watchtower. The high punch, the middle block, leg sweep, backward throw, all the moves she had practiced over and over until she could perform them without thought. When she finished, her arms trembled with fatigue, but she only felt a little better.

So she donned a loose shirt and pants, and ran barefoot up the seven terraces of the Vineyard, past the grapes growing upon their wooden trellises, to the base of the high watchtower, and then back to her room in the Vineyard’s outer wall.

And then she did it thrice more.

After, sweat soaked her, and her breath came harsh and ragged, but she felt much better.

Work, she knew, was the only cure for sorrow.

###

After she had bathed and dressed, Caina sat in the Vineyard’s library and ate breakfast. 

The Vineyard’s sixth terrace held a medium-sized villa, and the villa had a library. The wooden shelves stored hundreds of books, and the windows had a fine view of the vine-covered terraces and the valley outside the walls. Caina ate breakfast here whenever the business of the Ghosts brought her to the Vineyard, eating the sharp cheese favored the Disali and drinking the bitter black tea she preferred. And as she ate, she sat at a table and