(eng) Jonathan Moeller - Ghost Book 09 by Ghost in the Surge

Author:Ghost in the Surge [Surge, Ghost in the]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

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The woman some called the Moroaica and others called Jadriga turned back to the hieroglyphs carved upon the wall, Sicarion forgotten. Either he would succeed and kill the Emperor, or he would perish. Jadriga did not care which. In the new world she would create, there would be no need for killing.

Her fingers tightened against the Staff of the Elements, the staff’s power trembling in her grasp.

She had acquired so many names during her long wanderings. The Szalds had called her the Moroaica, and the other barbarian nations of the far north called her Jadriga, the Sword-Queen. The Kyracians had called her the Bringer of Ashes, and the Anshani had bestowed the title of Bloodmaiden upon her. The Arthagi whispered of the Queen of Crows, the bringer of battles, and of old in Maat they had called her the Destroyer.

Appropriate, given that she had laid the Kingdom of the Rising Sun waste.

But none of those titles were her name, not truly. She had been born Malifae, the daughter of the scribe Horemb and the basket-weaver Behnu. But the eyes of the Great Necromancers had fallen upon Malifae, had chosen her to become one the pharaoh’s Undying concubines in his tomb, and Rhames had killed Horemb and taken Malifae.

Malifae had been dead for a very, very long time.

Now the Moroaica was all that remained.

She had destroyed Maat, taking her vengeance upon the Great Necromancers and their pharaohs. But even that had not been enough. Maat was dust, but there were more tyrants, more men like Rhames. The Moroaica had spent centuries destroying them one by one, throwing down empires and grinding kingdoms into the dust. But it was never enough. There were always men like Rhames who killed innocent men like Horemb.

And then she realized the world was broken.

The gods had built a world that was a torture chamber and prison, a world to heap suffering upon the innocent. Perhaps they had done it by design, and laughed at the torment of mankind. Or perhaps they simply neglected their creation. Or perhaps some of the philosophers Jadriga had met over the centuries were right, and there was one high god who ruled over all creation as a monarch over his subjects.

If there was, he had much to answer for.

And Jadriga would make him answer for it.

The Staff of the Elements blazed with fire in her hand.

“It is folly,” said the Surge.

Jadriga looked up from the pool. She had gotten lost in her thoughts. That had happened more and more lately.

Ever since she had been released from Caina’s flesh.

Memories not her own flowed across her mind. A villa in the hills overlooking the Bay of Empire. A library full of books, and a rumpled, kindly father. The Ghosts and the Vineyard, Halfdan and the others teaching her to use knives and stealth and lockpicks and disguises.

A man’s strong arms around her, his mouth against hers and his body warm against her skin…

Jadriga shook her head with a growl. Those were not her memories.

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