“What’s he doing down there for so long?”Amaranthe murmured.
She wanted to collect Basilard and startinvestigating the fountains near Raydevk’s flat. They did not havemany hours before her meeting with Deret. She was tempted to cancelthat, but he might have information about the kidnappings she didnot. Surely a journalist had as many informants in the city as theenforcers did.
“He’s a contender for the trophy now.”Maldynado removed his hat to scratch his head and nearly pokedAmaranthe in the eye with the ostrich feather. “I bet he’s gettingmobbed by women who want to grease his snake tonight.”
Amaranthe gave him a sidelong look. “The wayyour mind works is unique.”
“Not amongst men,” Maldynado said.
“Amongst some men,” Books said.
Amaranthe fidgeted and watched the tunnelentrance through which Basilard had walked with the towel boytrailing behind. Several minutes had passed, and neither hadreturned to the arena.
“The towel boy hasn’t come back,” shesaid.
“What?” Maldynado asked.
Even if Basilard had decided to find thelatrine or change out of his white togs, the boy should havereturned to attend to the remaining competitors. Why had hefollowed Basilard, anyway? No boys had accompanied any of the otherathletes.
“I think Basilard’s in trouble,” shesaid.
“What?” Books asked.
“He’s been gone too long.” Amaranthe wonderedif it signified paranoia that neither of them seemed concerned. “Doeither of you two ‘coaches’ want to try to go down there? See ifyou can get into that tunnel?” Amaranthe eyed a pair of enforcersstationed where they could keep spectators from wandering into thearena to bug the athletes. “I’ll go outside and see if I spotanything suspicious.”
“Which of us should-” Books started.
“Either. Both. I don’t care.” She was alreadymaneuvering through the packed benches toward the aisle, worryingthat they had wasted too much time. How long would it take to dragan unconscious man out through a back door? “Maybe I’moverreacting,” she muttered under her breath. “Maybe it’snothing.”
Though she said the words, they did not keepher from pushing past spectators and running down the stairs. Atthe bottom, she reluctantly slowed down, aware that a sprintingwoman might draw the enforcers’ suspicions.
Only when she reached the stadium exit didshe break into a run. Maldynado caught up with her.
“Books is going in since Basilard alreadyvouched for him today.”
“Understood,” Amaranthe said.
They ran off the path to follow the curve ofthe stadium’s outer wall. Twenty meters of neatly trimmed grassstretched away from the structure before trees and shrubberystarted, hiding the locomotive tracks in the distance. Amaranthescanned the leafy green canopy, searching for the telltale smoketrail of a steam-powered lorry. Anyone in the kidnapping businesswould need a getaway vehicle.
“I don’t see anybody,” Maldynado said.
“Me either.”
Intermittent metal doors marked the outsidewall, too many for her and Maldynado to watch. Amaranthe took aguess at which one corresponded with the corridor Basilard had gonedown and tried it. It did not budge, nor did it have a lock on theoutside one might pick. A single pull-bar handle rose from a sea ofbrass rivets and steel.
“No way to pick the lock, huh?” Maldynadoasked.
Amaranthe knelt to examine tracks in theearth. Dozens, if not hundreds, of people had been in and out ofthe door that day, so they told her little. A dirt trail led to thewider road ringing the stadium.
“We’re smart though,” Maldynado said. “Weought to be able to figure a way in.”
“Got an idea?”
Amaranthe touched a long gouge in the earth.Was it her imagination, or did that look like the sort of mark thatmight be left if a couple of men were dragging another?
“Lots of ideas.” Maldynado grabbed thepull-bar and heaved for all he was worth. Muscles strained beneaththe thin fabric of the back of his shirt, but the door did notbudge. He released it with a growl, then kicked it.
“Watching your mind work is always apleasure,” Amaranthe said.
“Because it’s unique?”
“Something like that.” She pointed at thegouge. “I think they may already have him.”
She trotted to the opposite side of the roadand examined the ground. If kidnappers had dragged Basilard out ofthere, they would not have stuck to the main path where witnesseswould be many. Even now, a pair of female athletes was joggingalong the road, warming up for the upcoming races.
Half-crouching, half-walking, Amaranthesearched for unusual prints. Too bad Basilard was the one missing;he was a great tracker.
“Afternoon, ladies.” Maldynado swept his hatfrom his head and dropped into a low bow when the athletesapproached.
Amaranthe expected him to ask them toaccompany him somewhere for drinks or other activities, but hestayed on task.
“Has either of you seen anything suspiciousout here?” he asked.
One of the women eyed Amaranthe, who wasstill poking at the earth, looking for tracks, and asked, “Asidefrom you two?”
“Yes.” Maldynado offered a sparkling smile,the kind known for making the most standoffish ladies swoon, andthe women’s visages softened. One blushed. “Anyone dragging anathlete across the grass, for instance,” he said. “Or a towel boyroaming around where he shouldn’t be?”
“Oh!” The blushing girl sidled closer toMaldynado and laid a hand on his forearm. “On our last lap, we didsee a young boy standing at that door.” She pointed to the oneMaldynado had tried to open. “It looked like he was beckoning tosomeone in the woods. I didn’t see anyone, and he ducked backinside when he spotted us.” She gazed up at Maldynado and battedher eyelashes. “Does that help?”
Amaranthe shook her head in bemusement. Attimes, Maldynado could be downright useful.
“Tremendously, dear,” he said. “Thankyou.”
“We should go, Reeva,” the girl’s companionsaid. “Our race starts soon. If you don’t want me to win again, youshould probably be there to compete against me.”
“Win again?” Reeva released Maldynado andpropped her hands on her hips. “You only won last timebecause that stupid warrior-caste girl tripped and took me downwith her.”
“On second thought,” her comrade said, “youshould stay here and go off with him.” She resumed her jog, heelskicking up dust on the dry path.
Reeva pouted at Maldynado. “I have to go.Would you like to come watch my race? It starts soon. And thenafterward, perhaps we could have an iced tea in the garden.”
“Why, I’m quite tempted, my lady,” Maldynadosaid.
Amaranthe gripped his arm. “No, he’s not. Ourfriend needs us.” She jerked her chin toward the trees.
The girl scowled at Amaranthe. She ignored itand tugged Maldynado along.
“Sorry, miss,” he called to his newfoundfriend. “I’m not the sort to put my own pleasure above a friend’sneeds. Not a good friend’s, anyway.”
Amaranthe led the way into the trees, andMaldynado caught up with her. She was debating whether to look fortracks or go straight through to the railway when voices drifted toher ears.
Somewhere ahead of her, men spoke in urgenttones. She picked up the pace, though she stepped lightly, notwanting to be heard. She held a finger to her lips, and Maldynadosoftened his own footfalls.
“…got him,” someone said ahead of them.“Go, go.”
Machinery ground and clanked. An enginestarting? Amaranthe sniffed and caught a whiff of burning coalmingling with the earthier scents of the woods.
She gave up stealth and ran full out, dodgingtrees and trampling through dry brush. Her hand strayed toward herbelt, where she often wore her short sword, but it wasn’t there.Right. She’d decided a woman with a sword would stand out at thestadium. At least Maldynado had his.
The chugging of machinery floated through thetrees clearly now. It sounded more like
the great pumping pistonsof a locomotive rather than the smaller engine of a carriage. Butnobody had a train for an escape vehicle. She hoped.
The woods thinned ahead with sunlightstreaming through a gap in the canopy. The railway tracks?
The sounds of the machinery were moving awayfrom her. More, the distinctive clickety-clack of a car moving onrails joined with the chugs. No doubt now. She was listening to atrain.
Amaranthe sprinted the last ten paces, burstout of the trees, and scrambled up the raised ballast bedsupporting the train tracks. Twenty meters away, a combinationlocomotive-carriage was rumbling toward the city. Puffs of graysmoke wafted from a short stack. Though doors on either side heldwindows, the carriage had moved too far away for her to see throughthem. For a second, she thought of running after it, but it pickedup speed even as she watched. No, she would never catch it.
Growling, she kicked at the gravel betweenthe wooden sleepers.
Branches snapped and brush rustled,announcing Maldynado’s exit from the woods. Amaranthe pointed atthe carriage dwindling in the distance.
Maldynado blew out a low whistle. “What abeauty. An expensive conveyance for a private owner to pay for,too. My father talked about getting one for the family businessesat one point, but we never did.”
“So our kidnappers are well-to-do,” Amaranthesaid. “Or they stole it from someone well-to-do.”
“Always a valid vehicle acquisitionstrategy.” Maldynado threw a wink at her, no doubt thinking of thetimes they had borrowed enforcer wagons as a means of creating adistraction.
She could not muster a response, not with asecond man now missing. Amaranthe squatted on the tracks, elbows onher knees, head hanging. If she had thought Basilard would be atarget in the middle of the day, she never would have suggested heenter the competition. Well, not exactly true. She would have hadhim enter with the intent of using him as bait to lure thekidnappers, and she wouldn’t have been sitting hundreds of metersaway in the stands when it was time to spring the trap.
“Did he ever run the Clank Race that quicklyin your practice sessions?” Amaranthe asked.
“Nah. He got under two minutes once, but whoknew he’d have the fastest time today?”
“Strange that the kidnappers went after himright in the middle of the day when all their other abductions havebeen at night. Did they know he didn’t sleep in the dormitories?Maybe this was to be their last abduction, and they figured itdidn’t matter if someone saw them at work. Maybe they weren’tplanning on targeting him at all, but he beat the person they hadin mind so they switched-”
Crashes sounded in the woods from whenceAmaranthe and Maldynado had come. She drew her knife and jumpeddown to take cover behind the four-foot-high ballast bed. Maldynadoknelt beside her, a rapier in hand. This one had an opal gem on thepommel, and silver runes running up and down the steel blade.
“How many swords do you have?” Amaranthewhispered.
“Only thirteen. That covers most of myensembles.”
The thrashing continued, closer now. Booksraced out of the foliage.
Amaranthe started to relax, but theexpression on his face stopped her. As he ran toward the tracks, heglanced over his shoulder twice. The second time, he tripped over arock and nearly tumbled head long into the gravel.
“Time to depart,” Amaranthe said. She climbedup to the wooden sleepers and waved for Maldynado to follow.“Books,” she said, but he had already seen her.
He scrambled up the ballast bed and joinedthem on the railway.
Amaranthe raced along the tracks, bootsstriking the wooden sleepers with each stride. She wanted toobscure their trail by running on a surface that wouldn’t leavetelltale footprints, but only for a moment. “How far behind areyour pursuers?”
“Not…far,” Books panted.
A steam whistle screeched in the distance, atrain heading for the city. Good. Maybe it would cut offpursuit.
“This way!” a male voice shouted from thewoods.
Amaranthe led the way off the tracks, jumpingfrom the gravel to the weeds lining the edge of the woods, hopingnot to leave prints in the dusty band in between. Maldynado andBooks, with their longer legs, made the leap easily. The teamweaved through the trees for a hundred meters, then came out on thepaved trail that ran along the lake, the trail Amaranthe andSicarius had run together so many times.
The ache that formed behind her breastbonehad nothing to do with her running efforts. He hasn’t even beengone a day, she reminded herself. Nothing to worry about yet.Besides, they were going to find him. Basilard, too.
Thousands of footprints trampled the dustyred clay of the trail, and her fear of pursuit faded as she and themen continued along it.
“What happened?” Amaranthe asked Books.
“Basilard wasn’t back there,” he said.
“We know.”
She explained the towel boy and the railcarriage as they continued running. Popular beaches sprawledbetween the trail and the lake, many occupied with naked childrenrunning, playing, and swimming about. It was a workday, and mostadults who could steal time away were at the Imperial Games, but afew nannies attended the youths. One voluptuous and quite nudewoman waved to Maldynado who puffed out his chest and smiledback.
“Well, there’s one witness to our passing,”Amaranthe muttered. “Who was chasing you, Books? Enforcers?”
“Yes, I saw that towel boy, and I tried toapprehend him. He pulled this out of his pocket.” Books plucked avial filled with a golden powder from his own pocket and held itout for Amaranthe. “He tried to hurl it to the ground to, Ipresume, knock me out. I was quicker than he and stopped him, buthe started screaming, and enforcers surged into the tunnels. Onethought he recognized me as a criminal-can you imagine that? — so Ihad to run.”
Amaranthe took the vial. With that much ofthe powder, perhaps Akstyr could give her more information onit-confirm whether it was the one from his book or if it had otherproperties.
“You bested a ten-year-old boy?”Maldynado asked Books. “All by yourself? Why, I’m impressed.”
“Impressing a small mind is an insignificanttask.” Books lifted a hand, pointing toward a beach. “Is thatAkstyr?”
Amaranthe almost dismissed the possibilitywithout looking-Akstyr was supposed to be investigatingapothecaries-but they were getting close to the boneyard.The shirtless figure lounging on his back in the sand had afamiliar spiky hairstyle, too….
“Yes, it is,” Maldynado said. “How come he’sgot the afternoon off?”
“He doesn’t.” Amaranthe checked behind themto make sure no squad of enforcers was huffing and puffing down thetrail after them, then veered past three rows of stands stuffedwith bicycles.
Akstyr saw them coming and sat up, a sheepishgrin on his lips. Children hollered and yelled in the shallows.Though this particular beach was far from residentialneighborhoods, it sported sand instead of rocks, making itpopular.
“I checked a whole heap of apothecaries anddidn’t learn anything about your red-headed woman or the powder,”he rushed to say, probably trying to head off a lecture. “Some ofthe older clerks knew about the powder, but they said you can’t getit in the empire.”
“How many apothecaries are in ‘a wholeheap’?” Amaranthe asked.
“Bridger’s on Second and that littleforeign-owned one in the Veterans’ Quarter, and…uhm…”
“Two?” Books said. “Two constitutes a heap?I’ll send a note to the publishers of the Titanus ImperialDictionary so they can update the entry.”
“Ha ha,” Akstyr said. “Look, I was going tocheck some more after I relaxed a little.”
Amaranthe held out the vial Books hadretrieved. “We got a sample of the powder.”
Akstyr took it and held it up to the sun.“Oh, brilliant,” he breathed. His eyes narrowed, and calculationgleamed in them.
Amaranthe noted his expression. Did he thinkhe could sell the powder for a handsome profit?
“Where’s Basilard?” Akstyr asked. The handholding the vial dri
fted toward his pocket.
“He was kidnapped after a stellar performanceon the Clank Race.” Amaranthe reached out and caught Akstyr’s handbefore he could pocket the vial. She pried it out of his fingers.“I’ll keep this for now.”
He reached for her hand, and an objectionseemed on his lips, but he caught himself. “Sure, whatever. Notlike I need it for anything.”
Uh huh. Which assured her he did. She wouldhave to keep an eye on him.
“What do you mean Basilard was kidnapped?”Akstyr asked. “Weren’t you there? How could someone take him whenyou were watching?”
“He was in the athlete area,” Maldynado said.“We were spectators.”
“And we’d appreciate it if you didn’t implywe were negligent,” Books added, his back straight and stiff.
“Fine, but we need Basilard,” Akstyr said.“He’s important for…stuff.”
“Yes,” Amaranthe said, her own eyes narrowednow as she considered Akstyr. “Yes, he is.” It was hard for her tobelieve Basilard would be a part of some scheme of Akstyr’s, butshe had noticed the two talking together more this past weekthan ever before. “We’re going to get him back. Sicarius, too. Ineed to hunt down a map and make some notes.”
“A map of city fountains?” Maldynado asked,watching her warily.
“Perhaps,” she said. “You can help me. Books,are you up for a research assignment? Want to see if you can find arecord of that rail carriage?”
“Of course,” he said.
“This isn’t turning out to be a very goodvacation,” Maldynado observed.
“I agree,” Amaranthe said, as they paddedonto the dusty trail.
CHAPTER 9
Amaranthe examined the map under the softlight of one of the gas lamps lining the city block around PyramidPark. She had a lantern along as well, since the boneyard was blackat night, but this provided better illumination.
Books leaned over her shoulder, also studyingthe map, while Akstyr humored Maldynado in a game with the catchytitle of “You Pick a Letter and I’ll Say a Woman I’ve Slept withWhose Name Beings with That Letter.”
“Z?” Maldynado asked. “That’s easy. Zevinikaand Zela.”
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