Deadly Games ee-3

by Lindsay Buroker

  Cobwebs brushed at her face, and she stifledan urge to sneeze again. It was hard to sneak up on someone whiledischarging dust from one’s nostrils.

  As Amaranthe walked, she let her fingersgraze the wall, and she twitched in surprise when they found a gap,then bumped against metal. She slid her hand up and down it. A bar.One of many. Some kind of gate?

  She continued on, passing several of the widegates, and finally reached a corner with the warm yellow of lanternlight glowing beyond it. Trusting the darkness to hide her,Amaranthe eased her head around the edge. The illumination, severallanterns’ worth, came from inside an open gate. From her angle, shecould not see inside, but impatient mutters and shuffles came fromthe cell beyond.

  The snippet of conversation she had caughtimplied there were at least two people waiting in there, but thenoises suggested more. Four or six maybe.

  She eased around the corner and tiptoedcloser. Stacks of boxes came into view first, the closest stampedwith the words “souvenir hats.” Ah, the gates represented shopfronts. She must be nearing the main pyramid entrance.

  Another step took her close enough to seepast the boxes and into the room. A man in black soldier’s fatiguesleaned against the wall, his elbow propped on the muzzle of arifle.

  “Maybe we should turn out the lanterns,”someone opposite of him said.

  “We’re three turns from Mancrest,” someoneelse said. “She won’t see the light.”

  “Until it’s too late.”

  Soft snickers followed that oh-so-wittyline.

  “Unless Sicarius is with her.”

  That stopped the snickers. A nervousshuffling followed.

  “Word from the enforcers is that somebody’sgot him.”

  Amaranthe curled her fingers into a fist. Howhad the enforcers found out? Did they know something shedidn’t?

  “I’ll believe that when his head is on a pikein Mariner Square,” the man in view said.

  Clothing rustled-a shrug? “I heard theenforcers were told to send word to the emperor to get the bountymoney together, because his dead body would be delivered after theImperial Games.”

  It was just talk, Amaranthe told herself.Rumors.

  “Enough chatter,” an unseen man said. “Thisis an ambush, not barracks cleaning day. Nobody’s paying you totrot your lips.”

  The soldier Amaranthe could see sighed andturned his eyes toward the corridor. She stopped breathing. Ifenough lantern light seeped out of the room for him to seeher…

  He frowned and squinted in her direction.

  Amaranthe slipped a hand into her pocket. Herfingers found curved glass.

  The soldier took a step her way.

  Before she could debate the wisdom of themove, or the danger to herself, Amaranthe held her breath, thumbedthe cork off, and tossed the vial through the metal bars. Itskidded beneath the soldier’s feet, and he jumped.

  She scurried back, not sure what the rangewas on the powder, or if it would even do anything without somesort of magical preparation.

  The soldier charged into the corridor.

  Amaranthe spun and ran. The darkness aheadkept her from sprinting, but she hoped she remembered the layoutbetter than the soldier.

  Only her outstretched hand kept her fromsmashing her face into the wall at the first turn. So much formemory.

  Heavy footfalls followed her, but it soundedlike only one or two pairs of boots, not the entire squad ofsoldiers. If only a couple of the men chased her, she and her teamought to be able to take care of them. They could separate-

  “Oomph,” she grunted, hitting anotherwall.

  Left turn this time. One more corner, and sheshould run into Maldynado and Books.

  Before she finished the thought, she ran intoanother obstacle. Not stone this time, clothing and flesh.

  “Boss?” Maldynado whispered.

  “Yes, sh.”

  The clomping footfalls of a soldier rang outas the man rounded the corner. Amaranthe turned to face him.

  In the darkness, she could see nothing. Therhythm of the soldier’s run faltered and slowed. He must sense hewas close, or maybe it was something else. The powder? His stepswere heavy, almost labored. He made no attempt to stifle the soundof his advance.

  The gait slowed and grew uneven. Amaranthebent her knees, sword ready. A loud thud came from ahead, no morethan a pace away. Something clattered to the floor.

  Silence fell.

  A flame flared to life. Maldynado held thelantern high, illuminating the dust-and-cobweb-cloaked tunnel-andthe unmoving soldier at their feet, his rifle a foot away from hisoutstretched hand.

  “Huh,” Maldynado said.

  “You killed him?” Books stared at her.

  “No, at least I don’t think so. I threw thatvial you took from the towel boy into their room.” She knelt down,intending to check his pulse, but a soft snore rumbled from theman’s lips.

  “Ah,” Books said.

  Amaranthe took the soldier’s rifle, thenpatted him down. She found keys on a clip at his belt and removedthem. “Anybody have rope we can use to tie him up?”

  “Not me,” Maldynado said.

  Books spread his open hands. No rope. Hm.

  “I need to come better prepared for thesemeetings with men,” Amaranthe said.

  “Yes,” Maldynado said, “you never know whenrope will come in handy on a date. Lots of reasons to tie peopleup.”

  Amaranthe chose not to contemplate hisstatement. She pointed to the soldier. “See if you can use his beltand pants or something, and then follow me. There are more men. I’mhoping they’re sleeping, too.”

  Not sure how long the powder might last,Amaranthe jogged back down the corridor toward the cell. She didnot know the dissemination range either. That thought made her slowdown. Would it still be active, or did it wear off shortly afterrelease? She would feel idiotic if she ran in to check on thesoldiers and passed out on top of some man’s chest.

  She thought about waiting for Maldynado andBooks to catch up, but maybe it was best to go in alone. If she didpass out, maybe they would realize it and avoid the mistake. Orthey’d collapse on top of her on top of the soldier.

  “Over-thinking things,” she muttered, thoughshe dug a kerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it about her noseand mouth before continuing.

  She peered through the gate and counted fivesoldiers sprawled on the floor amongst overturned boxes and tippedlanterns. A couple had taken steps toward the exit, but most hadcollapsed where they stood. The vial, now cracked, gleamed where ithad come to rest against the wall. The powder had disappeared,turned to smoke and vanished.

  Amaranthe decided not to risk getting closeenough to investigate further. She checked the keys she had takenfrom the soldier. A fob read Polga’s Pyramid Tours.

  “Let’s hope Polga has the power to lock andunlock the gates,” she said.

  “Talking to yourself again?” Maldynado askedas he and Books strode around the corner.

  “No.” Amaranthe tried one of the keys in thelock. “I knew you’d be here to hear me.”

  “The other soldier is sufficiently trussedup,” Books said.

  “Albeit, he’ll find it a bit drafty in herewithout his pants,” Maldynado said.

  “They’re the only thing that could be used totie his ankles together and bind them to his wrists,” Bookssaid.

  “I’m not judging you,” Maldynado said. “That,given the opportunity, your first thought was to strip a handsome,young soldier of his pants doesn’t bother me.”

  “You’re odious.”

  “They were setting up an ambush,” Amaranthesaid. “Perhaps we should stop talking until we’ve subdued thebait.”

  The fourth key she tried turned in the lock.Good. She closed the gate and secured the soldiers inside.

  “Do we believe the bait is Mancrest?” Bookswhispered.

  “We’ll see.”

  She debated whether to continue forward withthe lantern dimmed, but decided the bait would expect her, so shemight as well com
e in as anticipated. There just wouldn’t be asquad of soldiers ready to charge in and capture her.

  She pulled her kerchief down around her neck,and she, Maldynado, and Books followed the corridor to a ramp thatangled downward, then turned at the bottom. More hieroglyphsadorned the walls down here, though she did not spot any more dogsengaged in carnal activities.

  The corridor widened and angled to the right.Light came from ahead. More gates marked the walls, andcells-shops-lay behind them. A mix of tacky “adventuring hats,”pyramid-related paraphernalia, and history books adorned theshelves.

  The light ahead of them was coming from oneof the shops. Amaranthe cut off her lantern and approached onsilent feet.

  She stopped at the gate. She did not seeanyone inside, though a candle burned on a merchant’s counter, theflame sputtering on the wick, and a hint of beeswax tinged themusty air. Racks of cheap factory-made clothing stretched along thewalls.

  A low groan emanated from the back of theshop. Ah, there was their bait.

  A man lay on the floor, his back to them,wrists and ankles tied with a fat rope. Perhaps it had been chosenfor its visibility-one could not miss it, even from the corridor.The wavy brown hair on the man’s head was a familiar hue andlength.

  Amaranthe lifted her eyebrows towardMaldynado. He nodded. Yes, it was Mancrest.

  The gate stood open. Amaranthe slid her handinto her pocket, wrapping her fingers about the cool metal keys.Though she meant to abandon stealth in a moment, she did her bestto withdraw the fob quietly.

  “Evening, Lord Mancrest,” she said as sheselected the key that had worked on the other gate. The number ofshops-and locks-they had passed suggested one key opened multipledoors. “How’d you get yourself tied up there?”

  The muffled response was unintelligible. Hedid manage to twist about so she could see a gag blocking hismouth.

  “Disgusting,” Maldynado muttered. “What proudman of the warrior caste stoops so low as to act as bait in astupid trap?”

  “Ssh,” Amaranthe whispered, then raised hervoice. “Are you in danger, Lord Mancrest? Who tied you up?”

  Again, the gag muffled his response, but shecaught the gist this time, “Help, come untie me.”

  “I don’t think so.” Amaranthe shut the gate,slipped the key into the lock, and turned it with a resoundingthunk.

  Mancrest sat up, eyes wide. His “what’re youdoing?” was easy to understand.

  “Getting annoyed with your donkey manure, oldboy,” Maldynado said.

  “What?” Mancrest said, still playing thegame.

  Was it possible he had not arranged this, andhe was actually imprisoned? No, soldiers would not tie up someonefrom the warrior caste without permission.

  “We have comrades to rescue,” Amaranthe said.She found a rough corner on one of the stones on the opposite walland hung the key ring on it. “I imagine you can find a couple ofclothes hangers, twine them together, and fetch that on your ownwith a little patience, assuming your binds aren’t particularlytight and you can free your hands. I wouldn’t count on the soldiersrescuing you. They’re incapacitated at the moment.”

  “Especially the one without pants,” Maldynadosaid.

  “Will you stop bringing that up?”Books asked.

  “Probably not,” Maldynado said.

  “Let’s go, gentlemen,” Amaranthe said. “Wehave work to do.”

  Mancrest’s shoulders heaved and his facescrewed up as he wriggled his hands behind his back. His bonds fellfree, and he yanked the gag out of his mouth.

  “Wait!” He tore away the ropes at his ankles,leaped to his feet, and sprang to the gate.

  Books jumped back. Amaranthe watchedMancrest’s hands to make sure he did not reach for a pistol ordagger beneath his shirt. Maldynado leaned against the oppositewall and yawned.

  Mancrest grabbed the bars of the gate. Hetried to open it, failed, and gaped at her. “You locked me in?”

  “You were planning to ambush us,” Amaranthesaid, not surprised but chagrinned to realize Sicarius had beenright, that Mancrest could not be trusted to do anything exceptturn her over to the enforcers. “I think my response is quitegenerous.”

  He curled his lip and opened his mouth, as ifto argue, but closed it again and took a deep breath. “What aboutmy men. Are they…unharmed?”

  “I think so. We used what the kidnappers havebeen using to knock people out, and I locked them in.”

  “Who’s going to let us out?” Mancrestasked.

  “Surely someone else is privy to your planand will come look for you eventually.”

  “My brother. After he gets off worktomorrow.”

  “Long time without a latrine nearby,”Maldynado said, still leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Butyou deserve to marinate in your own pee overnight.”

  Mancrest ignored him. Hands gripping thebars, he told Amaranthe, “It’s my duty and obligation to capturecriminals if I have a chance.”

  “Our duty sometimes lands us in unpleasantcircumstances.” A fact she knew well, since following duty was whathad set her on the path that resulted in her becoming an outlaw.She nodded toward the key ring. “I can make it easier for you tounlock yourself, if you tell me what you know about Sicarius’scapture and the kidnappers in general.”

  Mancrest’s shoulders drooped, and he leanedhis forehead against a bar. He chuckled ruefully. “When I imaginedhow tonight would end, it involved me questioning you about whatyou knew, not the other way around.”

  “He should have come up with a more cleverploy then,” Books said out of the corner of his mouth toMaldynado.

  “For once, we agree,” Maldynado saidback.

  “Was this interrogation you imaginedhappening here or at Enforcer Headquarters?” Amaranthe asked.

  “Fort Urgot,” Mancrest said.

  “I’ve been questioned there before. I don’tcare to arrange another visit. Are you going to provide theinformation I requested, or not?”

  “What will you do with the information?”

  “Rescue my men and stop the kidnappers fromwhatever it is they’re doing,” Amaranthe said. “Given the nefariousnature of the disappearances, I doubt it’s wholesome.”

  “Why are you bothering?” Mancrest asked. “Iunderstand your comrades are missing, but you were involved in thisbefore that, were you not?”

  “I want exoneration, so I help the empirewhen I can. Now, speak.” She gave him her best icy-cold-Sicariusstare. Given the hours she had wasted coming to Pyramid Park, itwas not difficult to muster.

  Still leaning his forehead against the bars,Mancrest considered her. His eyes flicked downward, taking in hernewly acquired rifle. “I suppose I should be grateful you haven’tkilled me for my attempts at trapping you.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” Amaranthe said.

  “I might,” Maldynado said. “Since youkeep using me to get at her. Street licker.”

  “No,” Mancrest said, holding Amaranthe’sgaze. “I’m beginning to see that. I don’t know who has Sicarius,only that an anonymous message came into Enforcer Headquarters,informing them he’d been captured and would be delivered dead bythe week’s end.”

  Amaranthe’s breath caught. A steam tramperstomped all over her theory that these kidnappers were collectingsuperior athletes to turn them into soldiers. If they intended tokill Sicarius in a few days…

  She closed her eyes. Then she had a few daysto find him. That was what she needed to focus on.

  “Also…” Mancrest slipped a hand into apocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “One of the rookiesbrought me this advertisement for approval. Someone mailed it inwith scrip from a mining outfit.”

  Amaranthe’s ears perked. Mining outfit?

  “I disapproved it. The Gazette doesn’taccept ads for just any business, certainly not anythingthat sounds like a spiel from a pitchman’s oiled tongue, and wedon’t take scrip for payment either. Later I realized it came in acouple of days before the first abduction. It could be unrelated,but…” He spread a han
d, palm up. “Perhaps not.”

  Curiosity piqued, Amaranthe took the paperfrom him. Before it had been folded, it had been crinkled, as if ithad spent time in a wastebasket. Books peered over her shoulder atit.

  Foreman got you down? Do you deserve more? Ahome on the Ridge? A say in the government? It’s all possible.Invest in your future now. Enquire at the Imperial Tea House.

  “Interesting,” Books said. “Perhaps arecruiting letter that was intended to gather more miners?”

  “Raydevk didn’t seem too bright,” Amaranthesaid. “I could see him trying to recruit people for criminalactivities in a newspaper.”

  Mancrest’s grip tightened on the gate bars.“Raydevk? That’s the name I got when I checked at the tea house.Is this tied in with the missing people?”

  “It’s possible.” Amaranthe handed the note toBooks to study further. For all she knew, he could do somehandwriting analysis to identify likely culprits. “We had a run-inwith some miners. What else did you learn at the tea house?”

  “Little,” Mancrest said. “Despite the loftyname, it’s run by the same people that own half of the mines in themountains, and it’s something of a slum establishment for lowlyworkers who can only pay in company scrip.”

  “I know it,” Amaranthe said, her tone cool.“My father used to go there when he was in town.”

  “Oh.”

  “Smooth tongue there, Mancrest,” Maldynadosaid.

  “Yes, uhm, they picked me out aswarrior-caste right away,” Mancrest said, “and nobody answered myquestions. I was trying to find out where the fellow lived and whathe was selling.”

  “Perhaps we’ll check it out later,” Amaranthesaid. “We have another mission tonight.”

  “If you find out anything,” Mancrest said,“and you need any help…”

  “Oh, sure,” Maldynado said. “You’ve onlytried to lure us into traps twice. Let’s arrange another meeting.Maybe the third time, you’ll figure out how to get us.”

  “I understand why you might not be quick totrust me,” Mancrest said.

  Amaranthe snorted.