Ghost in the Ring (Ghost Night Book 1) by Jonathan Moeller

Author:Jonathan Moeller [Moeller, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Azure Flame Media, LLC
Published: 2017-06-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11: Fight or Flight

Kylon looked at the corpse of the szlacht Varlov.

Killing the man did not trouble him in the slightest. Kylon had killed many men in battle. If they had been faster or stronger or simply luckier, they would have killed him, but they hadn’t, so he was still alive, and they were not. For that matter, Varlov had been possessed by a mavrokh spirit, and Kylon had sensed the bestial hunger and fury within the spirit. Varlov had apparently taken that wicked spirit into himself of his own free will, and evidently, his character had matched that of the mavrokh.

Plus, he had threatened Caina.

No, Varlov’s death did not trouble Kylon.

What troubled him was Varlov’s friends.

If Caina had not frightened off those other six mavrokhi, the creatures might have killed them all. The Hounds were strong and fast, and if Kylon had been a half-second slower, Varlov would have killed Caina. If Varlov had kept his wits about him, he might have been able to hold Kylon at bay long enough for Rudjak and Bashkir and the others to transform and join the fray.

Kylon knew he could have defeated Varlov in a straight fight. He could have taken two or three of the mavrokhi at once, thanks to his valikon and his abilities as a stormdancer. But seven of them would have been fatal. Even with Seb’s help, the mavrokhi would have won the fight.

“How did you know?” said Kylon.

“Know what?” said Caina. She stooped next to Varlov’s corpse, searching it with brisk efficiency. Kylon was still not comfortable looting the dead, though he supposed Caina was right and they would need the money.

“That you could scare them off.”

“I didn’t.” Caina took a dagger from Varlov’s belt, tested the edge, nodded in satisfaction, and claimed the weapon, along with Varlov’s money pouch. “But I guessed the boyar’s pet mavrokhi were men like the disciples of Grand Master Callatas, proud and arrogant and hungry for power. Rudjak and Varlov and their friends likely thought their mavrokhi made them invincible. And the valikarion were all slain long ago, everyone in Ulkaar seems to know that. So, when they encountered an actual valikarion, when they saw Varlov slain and his mavrokh spirit destroyed…”

“They panicked,” said Seb in a quiet voice.

“So it would seem,” said Caina, straightening up and brushing the snow from her knees.

“That was a hell of a gamble,” said Seb.

“It was,” said Caina. “But I didn’t have any choice. If we hadn’t frightened off the mavrokhi, they would have killed us. And then probably eaten us.”

She looked at Sophia, and the girl gave an unsteady nod.

Sophia’s emotional aura was chaotic against Kylon’s senses. Utter fear had paralyzed her as Rudjak and his szlachts arrived, the cold and terrible fear of a long-awaited doom arriving at last. Shock had replaced the fear as Kylon cut down Varlov and Caina had bullied the mavrokhi into fleeing, and now the predominant emotion in her aura was bewilderment.

But the fear was still strong.

“Because they would have eaten us, wouldn’t they?” said Caina.

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