Ghost in the Razor by Jonathan Moeller Page A

of about eighteen, her eyes downcast, her dark hair hanging loose around her face. 
    “Lord Cassander,” said Maria with a bow.
    “She is ready, as we discussed?” said Cassander, scrutinizing the slave girl. The slave cringed away from his gaze.
    “Yes, lord,” said Maria. “She has been prepared.” 
    “Good,” said Cassander. He pointed at the slave. “Remain silent and do not speak or move until I command it.”
    The girl offered a timid nod.
    “I am ready,” said Maria, “to assist with any spells you might…”
    He grabbed the front of her coat, pulled her close, and kissed her roughly upon the lips without a trace of gentleness. She froze for an instant, and then responded, pulling herself close against him. A few moments later he had her out of her clothes, and then he took her upon the stone floor, listening to her moan and feeling her writhe beneath him. He was certain that she was not enjoying herself as much as she pretended, but he did not care.
    He required a clear mind for what he intended next, and this was one of the best ways to clear his mind. The fact that he enjoyed it a great deal was almost irrelevant. 
    After he finished, Cassander rose to his feet and retrieved his clothes, while Maria gathered up her scattered garments. The slave girl stood motionless and rigid, fear and embarrassment warring across her face. 
    Cassander pointed at her. “Stand in the center of the circle. Now.” She moved to obey, walking into the center of the double circle. “Maria.” She looked at him, clad in only her shirt and trousers. “The circle.”
    “We begin, my lord?” said Maria.
    “We begin,” said Cassander. “Tonight we work the death of the Balarigar.” 
    Maria nodded and cast a spell, the symbols within the circle flaring with blue light. The circle itself pulsed and throbbed with the same glow, almost seeming to shimmer in a cylinder of blue light around the slave girl. The terrified girl looked back and forth, her dark eyes wide.
    “Masters,” she said, her voice quavering, “I am…I am an obedient slave, I will do whatever you wish of me, but please, please don’t hurt me, please…”
    Cassander smiled at her. “Fear not, child. I promise you this shall not hurt.”
    She offered a tremulous smile, and Cassander raised his right arm. He wore a gauntlet of black steel over his hand, a crimson bloodcrystal glowing upon its back. Cassander had fashioned it himself, and it allowed him to wield pyromantic forces without destroying his sanity in the process. He would not need it quite yet, but soon.
    Cassander closed his hand, the metal fingers of the gauntlet clanking as he cast a spell.
    Invisible force closed around the girl, snapping her neck and killing her in an instant. Cassander supposed it hadn’t been painless, but it had been close enough. She collapsed in a heap to the ground, her glassy eyes staring up at the ceiling. 
    “My lord?” said Maria, pushing some loose strands of hair from her face.
    “Consider how far we have come,” said Cassander. “In the Empire, slavery was illegal, the sciences of necromancy and pyromancy forbidden. Now we can conduct our researches with a free hand, unencumbered by archaic systems of morality. Consider how much we have learned, even in a year and a half. Consider how far we shall advance our science, to what heights we shall lift mankind.” 
    “Yes, my lord,” said Maria.
    Cassander felt his smile widen. “And all it shall take to defeat the Empire and advance the cause of the Order is the death of one ragged little Ghost nightfighter.” 
    The High Provost had sent him to secure Istarinmul’s alliance against the Emperor. The Padishah Nahas Tarshahzon and the Grand Wazir Erghulan Amirasku might rule Istarinmul in name, but Grand Master Callatas ruled it in truth. Caina Amalas had been a tremendous thorn in Callatas’s side, and the Grand Master wanted her dead. He wanted her dead so badly, in fact, that if Cassander