Jonathan Moeller - The Ghosts 05 - Ghost in the Stone Read Online Free

Cyrica, and now the stronghold of Cyrioch’s Lord Governor. Lesser palaces, the homes of Cyrica’s nobles, clung to the sides of the Stone and stood at its base.
    The rest of Cyrioch sprawled between the Stone and the harbor like spilled detritus. 
    Caina saw basilicas and mansions built in the Nighmarian style and domes and slender towers in Anshani fashion. Endless squat warehouses of brick lined the harbor, holding the tea and grain and rice and cotton the Cyrican provinces shipped to the nations of the western seas. The ugly brick towers of tenements rose behind the warehouses. The great lords had dispossessed Cyrica’s small farmers generations ago, and now the remaining free citizens lived in those tenements, subsisting on the Lord Governor’s grain dole.
    And upon the backs of their slaves. 
    The stench of the city filled Caina’s nostrils.
    She made her way to the rail as the ship maneuvered toward a pier, the oars lashing at the water. A few of the sailors and the stagehands glanced her away, but no one stopped her. Caina had disguised herself as a caravan guard every day and wandered through the ship, and the sailors had thought her Theodosia’s bodyguard. She saw the other ships of Lord Corbould’s flotilla lined up at the quays, including Corbould’s massive flagship.
    The galley pulled up to the stone quay, and Caina saw dozens of men in rough gray tunics waiting for them. Slaves, no doubt owned by the city’s harbormaster, ready to assist with unloading the ships.  
    Rage shivered through her at the thought. Caina’s mother had sold her to Maglarion in exchange for his necromantic teachings, and Maglarion had relied on Istarish slavers as his hirelings. She hated slavers, and as weary as she had grown of killing, the deaths of a few more slave traders would not trouble her at all…
    But for now, she had to remain calm. 
    The ship bumped against the quay, and the porters hurried forward with a gangplank. The sailors and the porters wrestled the opera company’s cargo onto the deck. Caina grabbed the railing, vaulted over it, and landed on the quay, her legs collapsing beneath her. A few of the slaves gave her curious looks as she straightened up and walked off, but none made any move to stop her. 
    Caina left the docks, passed the warehouses, and made her way into Cyrioch.
    She recalled the map of Cyrioch she had memorized during the voyage. The district south of the docks was called Seatown, filled with warehouses, tenements, and sailors’ taverns and brothels. Barius, the Ghost nightkeeper Theodosia had sent her to meet, owned a pawnshop on the southern edge of Seatown. 
    She left the warehouses behind, making her way through the narrow streets. The sun blazed overhead like a torch, and the humidity made sweat trickle down her face and back. The massive brick tenements towered over her, but even their shadows brought little respite from the heat. 
    Traffic crowded the streets – the freeborn Cyricans preferred light clothes of bright colors, red and orange and yellow. Some of the men wore turbans in the Anshani style. The women covered their heads with scarves, and usually moved in the company of a husband or a brother or a son. The Cyricans considered that any woman who went in public with her head uncovered was a prostitute, free for any man that could take her.
    Just as well that Caina had disguised herself as a man. 
    Slaves in their gray tunics were everywhere. 
    From time to time small gangs of men followed her. Caina suspected that unwary foreigners traveling through Seatown might find themselves snatched off the streets and sold to the Istarish slavers’ brotherhood. She rested her hand on her sword hilt and scowled, and none of the gangs closed. Perhaps they wanted easier prey. 
    The hulking tenements thinned, and Caina found herself in a small market square. Vendors sold pots and jars and food of questionable quality, while taverns and small shops lined the square. Women in