Ghost Rage, Episode 18a- Vote Now!

“Back to your father’s mansion,” you tell Lucan. “We can question her in peace there.”

Lucan nods, and you return to his rooms at Lord Corbould’s mansion. Chrysana Karbonos still lies unconscious and motionless on the couch, and the wards against the mavrokh upon the doors and windows are still intact.

Amania winces as she walks through the door, her hands going to her temples.

“What is it?” you say. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” she says. “No…I just have a headache.” She sees Chrysana, and her expression darkens. “What is that whore doing here? She stole Julian from me.”

“Something tried to kill her,” you say. “Specifically, a mavrokh.”

Amania blinks. “A…mavrokh? A Szaldic spirit of rage? Father used to study them, when we still lived in Varia Province. But he said they could never come this far east.”

“The mavrokh tried to kill her,” you say, taking a deep breath, “and it did kill Julian.”

Amania’s eyes go wide, and all the blood drains out of her face. “What?”

“It killed Julian Trimogena this morning,” you tell her, “and it killed Chrysana’s maid, and it tried to kill Chrysana, but we managed to interrupt it.”

Amania is starting to cry. “Oh, no. Oh, Julian. I…I dreamed that he had been killed, but this…but this…”

“I think your father summoned and controlled the mavrokh,” you say. “I need you to tell me everything that happened to you. Everything! Else the mavrokh might come after you next.” Actually, you think that it might try to kill Lady Chrysana again, but you suspect that prospect might not trouble Amania in the slightest.

“I…I…” She scrubs at her eyes. “I…Julian sent me a letter, telling me that he was breaking our betrothal for Chrysana. He didn’t even have the decency to tell me in person. I was…it felt horrible. Father took me, locked me up in that awful place. He said it was for my own good, that I might hurt myself. Or someone else.”

You frown. You don’t see how that’s possible. If Amania is dangerous, she’s doing a good job of hiding it.

“I was trapped down there for a week,” said Amania. “Sometimes Father would visit, vast spells on me, or on the room. He’d bring me food and water. And then you came and rescued me.” She shakes her head. “Father must have gone mad, if he summoned a mavrokh. I hate that whore Chrysana, and I…I hate Julian for what he did to me, but…gods, I didn’t want him to die.”

You’re missing something.

Rhazion might have the ability to summon and bind a mavrokh…but the preceptor, from what you’ve heard of him, doesn’t seem like the sort of man to go on a murderous rampage to avenge his daughter’s broken betrothal. You’d suspect Amania of doing it, if she had any arcane skill.

You’re missing something. But what?

Right then Chrysana groans, sits up on the couch, and you look at Lucan.

He shrugs. “She recovered sooner that I expected. Evidently she’s tougher than she looks.”

“Where…where am I?” says Chrysana, blinking.

You and Lucan cross over to the couch.

“You’re safe, for now,” you say. “Something called a mavrokh tried to kill you.”

“I…” Chrysana shakes her head.

Then her eyes fall upon Amania, and she starts to scream at the top of her lungs. Real screams, raw and full of terror.

“Keep her away from me!” Chrysana shrieks, scrambling backwards off the couch. “Keep her away from me!”

“What?” you say.

“She tried to kill me!” says Chrysana. “You…you were there! You saw it! She ripped apart my maid, and she was going to rip me to pieces, and then you stopped her!”

You were there. The mavrokh killed the maid, and tried to rip apart Chrysana. And the mavrokh are invisible. And Amania was tied up in the Black Rose’s cellar at the time.

Or so she claims.

“What are you talking about?” said Amania, anger and bewilderment fighting in her voice. “I’ve spent the last week tied to a chair.”

“Frostmaiden!” says Moresti, pointing at the window. “Look!”

You hurry over to the window.

Close to a score of armed and armored men are crossing the gardens, naked swords in hand. They wear black leather jerkins over chain mail, and each man carries a heavy shield upon his arm. Mercenaries, but hardened professionals, not drunken caravan guards like Moresti. And you recognize the company. The Black Wolves – the favorite mercenary company of the Magisterium.

And behind them, you see a man in the black robes of a magus.

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