Ghost in the Throne (Ghost Exile #7) by Jonathan Moeller Page B

Kalgri had stabbed her through the heart, and then Caina had spent nearly a month in bed. She should have been barely able to walk. She should not have been able to flawlessly work through the unarmed forms and then do one hundred and thirteen pushups. 
    The Elixir Restorata was potent.
    Caina shook her head, pushing the damp hair from her face. Callatas had put a bounty of two million bezants upon her head. She wondered how he would react if he knew one of his vials of Elixir Restorata had saved her life. Annarah had told her that Callatas had once been known as Callatas the Wise, that he had been the most respected loremaster and physician in Iramis. 
    Then he had gone to Pyramid Isle and met Kharnaces, and become the man who had unleashed wraithblood upon Istarinmul… 
    “Do you always exercise naked in the morning?”
    Caina blinked, pushing the sweaty hair out of her eyes. Kylon was watching her from the bed. 
    “Not that I am complaining,” said Kylon. “There are worse ways to wake up. When I was learning the sword, the master of blades awoke us every morning by dumping buckets of cold water over us.”
    Caina laughed and rose, stretching as she did. “I am preferable to a bucket of cold water? That is high praise indeed.” 
    She crossed to the bed and looked at him. His face was unshaven, his eyes a little bloodshot. There were old scars on his chest and arms, likely from before she had met him. 
    If not for him, she would have died. 
    “Kylon,” she said. “Thank you.”
    He blinked. “For what?”
    “For saving my life,” said Caina. 
    “I’m not sure I can take all the credit for it,” said Kylon.
    “What do you mean?” said Caina.
    “I was wondering about it,” said Kylon. “I could only save you because Morgant had the wedjet-dahn and you had stolen the Elixir from Callatas. And we only had that…”
    “Because Samnirdamnus had told me to steal the Elixir and Morgant to take the wedjet-dahn,” said Caina. 
    “Yes,” said Kylon. “He’s been manipulating you. He was manipulating me. He’s been manipulating Morgant since before either of us were born. I would like to know why.”
    Caina was silent for a moment. “He said he has been looking for someone like me.”
    “What does that mean?” said Kylon.
    “I don’t know,” said Caina. “You know how he talks. Riddles and allusions and games. Yet…he has not steered me wrong. His advice hasn’t led me to ill.” 
    “Then what does he want?” said Kylon. “He went to all this effort to save you. Why?”
    “I don’t know,” said Caina. “And he didn’t save me. You did.” He opened his mouth to reply, but she kept talking. “You put the wedjet-dahn on me. You made me drink the Elixir. And you were the one who went into my mind when Kharnaces’s poison tried to kill me. I…suppose you saw some strange things in there.”
    Kylon shifted. “Less than you might think. It was like your mind had…had fractured into your past selves. I saw you as a child, as a younger woman, as other paths your life might had taken.”
    “And all those paths would have ended in the Corsair’s Rest if not you, Kylon,” said Caina. “Thank you.”
    “You don’t need to thank me,” said Kylon. 
    She grinned at him. “Yes, I do. And I think I know just how to do it.”
    “Oh?”
    “Just lie there,” said Caina, “and I’ll show you.”
     
    ###
     
    Later that morning they left Rumarah, heading north to depart the Kaltari Highlands and return to Istarinmul. 
    Caina knew they were heading into danger. She knew that powerful enemies awaited them. Callatas was preparing his Apotheosis, and the Huntress lurked in the shadows. Tanzir Shahan marched on Istarinmul, and the Padishah’s realm was about to burn with civil war.
    Yet for all that, she was in a very good mood. 
    She thought over her time with Kylon at Drynemet and smiled at the recollection. Istarinmul was just as dangerous as it had been, and her enemies just as