“That’s all right. I’d be concerned if my king found me charming.” Zirkander rose. “I’m thinking that I could fly around out there and look for matching exit holes. There might be some sign that whoever made this already left. There’s no point in crawling around in tunnels if nothing’s back there to find. I could also fly over the trees down there, see if our scientists are hiding outside for some reason. Unless we think they went in there.” He pointed to the tunnel.
“I doubt it,” Kaika said. “We saw that scrap of cloth stuck under the outer door. More likely something came out of here and scared them into running.”
“I wondered if there might have been a smoke bomb or something else deadly that they ran from,” Angulus said, “but the fans aren’t on.” He waved toward the high walls. Here and there, square grates lay flush with the stone, and there had been some in the labs too. “They shouldn’t have simply run from whatever enemy breached this facility,” he went on. “There were experienced soldiers stationed here to guard the scientists and their work.”
“Sorcerers are a special kind of enemy.” Zirkander shuddered.
Kaika remembered the fireball smashing into the other flier. She would never forget that.
“True, but they swore an oath,” Angulus said. “I hope they’re alive, but they were supposed to defend this facility with their lives if necessary. They knew the risks and volunteered for the job.” He pointed in the direction of the two bodies that they had found. “I haven’t looked yet. How were they killed?”
“One was garroted, and the other’s throat was cut.”
“Garroted?” Kaika frowned. “There’s a Cofah operative who’s known for doing that. I’ll take a look.”
Zirkander and Angulus spoke quietly as she jogged over and examined the bodies. She agreed with the general’s assessment. One had died by knife, one by garrote—a real one, she guessed by the clean line, not an improvised one. Both men had been taken down from behind.
“Might be Seeker,” she said when the others joined her. “Could be someone else who wanders around with a garrote, but if he’s the one responsible, he works directly for the emperor.”
“That’s comforting,” Zirkander said. “We wouldn’t want garden-variety operatives harassing us.”
“Seeker is good on rooftops and stealthier than a cat, but not the best when he doesn’t catch his prey by surprise. Quick, but he’s short and doesn’t have much power. Plus, he never watches out for his feet, so sweep him if you end up in a fight.”
“You’ve fought him often?” Angulus asked.
“Once. And then there were some... other kinds of meetings.”
Zirkander didn’t smirk at her, not exactly, but the glint in his eyes said he knew exactly what she was talking about. She shouldn’t have been so open with him about her past.
“For obtaining information,” she emphasized. “Before he knew I was Iskandian.”
Angulus tilted his head. “You have an Iskandian accent.”
“Not always. And I have other attributes that are globally appreciated.” On that note, it was definitely time to change the subject. “Should we—”
Another rumble coursed through the floor. In the hallway, the hanging lights swayed on their chains. Kaika waited for the quake to subside and tried to determine if that had been stronger than the last one. Furniture wasn’t falling in the labs, and a control panel on the giant cylinder glowed green without interruption. She thought about asking what that big construct was, but didn’t want to pry into secrets the king didn’t want her to know.
“Maybe the scientists left because of the earthquakes,” Zirkander said.
“This area isn’t known for its earthquakes,” Angulus said.
“All the more reason to find their sudden appearance alarming. Maybe you should wait outside until Sardelle gets here, Sire.”
“I want to look inside the labs first. I haven’t figured out if anything was stolen yet. I can’t imagine why these people would have broken in and killed people if they didn’t want something.”
“They could be scouts, just looking for information,” Kaika said.
“Scouts aren’t supposed to murder people and be noticed.”
“That’s generally true.”
“If we leave, the spies could come back and have free rein of this place.” Angulus nodded toward the small tunnel in the back. “That’s unacceptable.”
“So is getting flattened by falling rocks,” Zirkander said.
“Nothing’s fallen yet. But in case it does, you can be the heroic pilot that digs us out.” Angulus flicked his fingers toward the exit. “Go do that recon you mentioned. See if you can find that hole and our people. Report back within two hours.”
“Yes, Sire.” Zirkander saluted, but paused to look at Kaika before leaving. “For your information, I’m extremely fun in the bedroom.” He gave her a salute, too, a lazy two-fingered one, then headed for the exit. Over his shoulder, he added, “And also in caves, libraries, tents, theaters, pubs, and once in the cockpit of my flier, though I do not recommend that for reasons of comfort. Or rather discomfort.”
Angulus frowned as Zirkander headed back toward the entrance. “I do not find that man charming.”
Kaika wiped a grin off her face when he looked back at her.
“I don’t, either, Sire. Pubs? People eat there. That’s disgusting.” Even as she finished speaking, she wondered if Angulus would be horrified by her list. She decided not to share it with him.
Chapter 6
Angulus flipped through notes in a logbook. He had already searched the drawers and cabinets in all of the labs. Out in the main chamber, Kaika leaned against one of the glass walls where she could see the main tunnel and the new one. It had been over an hour since Zirkander left, and Angulus had not found a single enlightening thing. He rubbed his eyes, the late night catching up with him. A couple more hours, and it would be dawn. He supposed he shouldn’t be frustrated that nothing was happening, other than the occasional shakes. That was for the best. Things could happen once he had a squad of well-armed soldiers in here, and Sardelle too.
A part of him wanted to invite Kaika in to chat with him and keep him awake—and maybe tell him stories of her adventures in Cofahre. He had a feeling that not all of the details had been included in her reports. But she was doing her job, staying alert and keeping watch, as a good soldier should. He shouldn’t be a bad influence. He definitely shouldn’t call her in and try to make witty conversation in an attempt to show her that he was much more interesting than Zirkander. Even if he hadn’t had sex in a theater. Or a pub. Or, gods help him, a flier cockpit. Angulus was going to make sure to bring soap and a damp cloth the next time he climbed into any aircraft that Zirkander was piloting.
It wasn’t that he was repressed... exactly. It was more that there were few places he could go without an audience of bodyguards, and he definitely wasn’t an exhibitionist.
Another tremor shook the floor, made the lights sway, and rattled bottles on shelves, but it was no fiercer than any of the others, and he didn’t bother setting down the binder in his hands. Until a cry rang out.
Though it sounded distant, the inhuman wail seemed to come from all directions, even from within his own head. The power of it reverberated through him, and he found himself dropping the binder and grasping at the closest counter for support. The wail came again, completely alien, but at the same time, perfectly understandable. Whatever was uttering it was in pain.
A touch alighted on his arm. “Sire? Are you all right?”
Kaika stood next to him, her face calm but concerned. At first, he worried that she hadn’t heard the noise, and that he was under some kind of isolated attack, but it sounded again, and she winced. Still, she kept hold of his arm, offering him support if he needed it.
Angulus straightened and nodded at her. He appreciated her solicitude, but he did not need support. The scream was affecting him strangely, but he could handle it.
“Ye
s,” he said. “Can you tell where it’s coming from?”
“I can’t even tell what it is.” Kaika looked through the window wall, toward the dark tunnel. “Some animal?”
“More than that, I think.” Angulus touched his temple, trying to distinguish what he was hearing from what he was feeling inside of his skull. Maybe the latter was his imagination, an effect of the strange noise.
“Should we—”
Before Kaika could finish, the floor shook. Not the insignificant tremors of before, but fierce rocking motions that made Angulus think of being on a ship during a storm. He was thrown against the desk and grunted as his groin slammed into the edge. Something fell to the floor and shattered. The lamps flickered.
“We need to get out of here.” Kaika grabbed his arm and stepped toward the door.
A filing cabinet toppled over inches from her face. Angulus pulled her back. More furniture was falling, with books and binders being hurled from shelves. One of the glass doors flew open, slamming against the wall with a crack. The thick glass did not shatter, but Angulus did not want to be running past it when it did.
“Over here,” he barked as the lights flickered again. Once more, the alien keening erupted from a distance, bouncing off the walls—and the insides of his skull.
Kaika let him tug her into the corner. Angulus ducked under a counter with room enough for two under it and pulled her down with him. It appeared sturdy, though he had no delusions about it holding up if the ceiling came down. But the facility had been designed to withstand bombs flung at it from outside. It should hold up to an earthquake—or whatever this was.
Kaika hesitated before crawling fully under the counter with him, but a lamp slamming to the floor convinced her to dive into the cubby. Angulus suffered an elbow to the ribs, but he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, not wanting her head sticking out, not when things were flying from the walls like bats scared out of a cave.
As the floor continued to heave, the wood supports of the counter groaned behind him. A thunderous crack came from the glass wall, followed by shards tinkling to the floor. He poked his head out from underneath the counter to eye the cement ceiling warily, worried the next crack would come from above.
The roar of noise that came next was from out in the testing chamber or in one of the tunnels leading from it. Cracks and snaps sounded, followed by heavy slabs crashing to the ground. Rockfall.
The lights flickered a final time and went out.
Angulus yanked his head back under the desk and closed his eyes. He pulled Kaika more tightly to him and wondered if this was the end for both of them. Should he have followed her and tried to make it out? Had he condemned them to a lonely burial within this mountain? Should he do something idiotic like kiss her before they were crushed?
Before he’d come to a decision on that last thought, the shaking quieted. Rocks continued to fall, but fewer in number and less frequent, each individual thump audible instead of the cacophony from seconds before. Soon the thumps dwindled, and the distant clatters grew infrequent. Angulus could hear his and Kaika’s breaths. They were both breathing too quickly, too shallowly, terror setting the pace. He forced himself to deepen his breaths and tried to calm his body. In the darkness, he couldn’t see anything and didn’t know whether the ceiling inside their lab remained intact or not. He had no idea if they could find a way out. All he knew for certain was that Kaika was mashed against him, her shoulder pressing into his chest and her butt in his lap.
A bead of sweat dribbled down the side of his face, and dust coated his tongue. In the past, when he had imagined cuddling with Kaika, this wasn’t how it had gone.
She stirred and started to say something, but her first word broke into a series of coughs. He found the back of her head and rested his hand in her hair. He wasn’t sure what that was supposed to do, but his arm was pinned into the corner, and it was all he could manage. She had lost her cap. A silly thing to notice. Dust and tiny shards of cement and wood coated her hair, but it felt thick and soft beneath the debris. He resisted the urge to brush it clean. That was too familiar. Just because she was sitting in his lap and they were courting death didn’t mean that he should be overly familiar. Probably. He wondered if he should have kissed her earlier. Now it would seem strange. Unless he was honest with her and told her that he’d had feelings for her for a long time. Here in the dark might be a good time. If she was horrified by the admission, he wouldn’t be able to see it in her eyes.
She finished coughing and lifted an arm to wipe her face, clipping him in the nose with her elbow.
“Sorry, Sire,” she said.
“No, I’m sorry,” Angulus said, his throat scratchy. “Earlier today, or yesterday, I suppose it was, I considered asking you out for a fancy dinner, but I thought you’d find a dinner date too sedate to be interesting. Then I was made aware of the need for this excursion, and that we required someone with demolitions experience. It seemed a more natural way for us to, er. Well, I thought you might enjoy the mission.” He paused, not wanting her to think the only reason he’d brought her along was because he wanted to get in her pants. Was it too late? Had that already been implied? If he rescinded it, would he make it worse? Better to press on. “So if we die here, you can blame it on me being too cowardly to ask you to dinner.”
He hadn’t wanted to see the rejection on her face, but as the silence dragged on without a response, he started to curse the darkness. She hadn’t moved; she barely seemed to be breathing. What was she thinking?
“I’m a simple girl, Sire. You don’t have to schmooze me with fancy food—or a fancy mission. All you have to say is, ‘My place, tonight?’ and I’ll give you a yes or no without a lot of thought.”
Her bluntness wasn’t surprising, but it left him speechless for a moment. That My place, tonight? comment. Did she think he was only interested in sex? He supposed that was logical of her to assume—it wasn’t as if kings courted and married commoners all that often—but the idea stung. Maybe because it implied she would only be interested in sex too. If she was interested at all. He hadn’t missed that her statement hadn’t answered the question she had proposed. Should he ask? He chickened out and said, “I’m less simple.”
“No kidding.”
Angulus laughed, then wished he hadn’t because some of the dust in the air made its way down his throat, and he ended up coughing. He turned his head out of a notion that he shouldn’t cough all over a woman he was discussing a relationship with. She didn’t say anything while he wiped his eyes and recovered, trying to find his voice again. At least she didn’t pull away from him. Not that there were many places to go. Something had fallen right beside his boot, and escaping the counter might prove difficult.
“I’m actually fairly simple,” Angulus amended, “but the position can make my life complicated.”
“Yeah.”
“Kaika,” he said slowly, not sure if he should make his other confession. Her responses hadn’t been that encouraging thus far. “When you asked if you were being punished because of your new assignment... that was the furthest thing from my mind. You’re right that others could train the young pilots, but I wanted to—and I know this is selfish—I wanted to keep you here in the city. Because in the past, I couldn’t—I mean, when Nia was alive, I felt compelled to be faithful, or at least discreet with, uhm, brief indiscretions.” Hells, what was he saying? Nothing cogent, that was certain. “What I mean is that I’d never wanted to be the kind of promiscuous philanderer that my father was. Don’t get me wrong. He was a competent ruler, and I adored him as a boy, but his exploits with women were a joke around the castle. I know they hurt my mother, who loved him a great deal. So my point is—” Yeah, what was that point again? “—even though my second wife and I had an arranged marriage and were never in love with each other and I’ve, ah, admired you for a long time, I never felt that I could act upon that. Not to presume that you would have wanted to be acted upon.” Seven gods, he didn’t even k
now what that meant. He needed to blurt out his confession without any more of this tongue-tangling explanation. “Now that Nia is gone, I thought that if you were in the city for a while, I might find a chance to get to know you through more than reports.”
There. He should have said that from the beginning. If she was used to men who spoke their minds comfortably, as he imagined most soldiers did, then she’d probably be repelled by his fumbled babbling.
The long silence that followed did not encourage him.
“You’ve read my reports?” she finally asked.
Her tone was difficult to read. She didn’t sound horrified, but she didn’t sound joyously enthused by his admission, either. She must think the entire situation bizarre and maybe surreal. Maybe he should have simply asked her to dinner, after all. At least then she wouldn’t have been caught by surprise; surely, she knew what it meant when men asked her out for a meal.
“All of them,” he said.
“I should have tried harder to make them legible.”
Judging by the way she was pointedly not commenting on his confession, she must not want to deal with it. Maybe she wanted to pretend it hadn’t happened. That hurt, but he wanted to give her a way out, if that was what she wanted.
“I’ve studied cryptography and multiple languages,” he said. “I was usually able to decipher them.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes.”
And with that, he had no idea what else to say. The trickle of debris falling out in the chamber had stopped, so maybe it was best to see if they could escape the confines of the counter. For more reasons than one. At least he’d proclaimed his interest. She could decide if that meant anything to her. Or not.
“Shall we see if we can get out of here?” Angulus lowered his arms as much as he could, so she wouldn’t feel that he was holding her to him.
“Probably a good idea. But... Sire?”
He almost told her to call him Angulus, but he didn’t. If she wanted to be something besides king and officer, then they could do that, at least in private. But for now, they needed to be professionals. “Yes?”
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