“Must not be any treasure on there now,”Maldynado said. “Nobody’s on guard.”
“Some of the crew might be sleeping belowdecks,” she whispered.
They stopped beside the ship. No gangplankoffered easy access, but Amaranthe had come prepared. She unwound alength of thin rope she had looped around her waist several timesand dug out a collapsible grappling hook. She fastened it and swungthe tool, releasing it toward the ship’s railing. The hook clinkedsoftly and caught on the first try.
“You’re turning into a proficient burglar,”Books said.
“Is that a compliment or a condemnation?”Amaranthe tested the secureness of the rope.
“It depends on whether we’ll be leavingmonetary compensation for the suits we’re stealing.”
Maldynado groaned. “You’re wholesome enoughto teach toddlers right alongside her.”
“I was hoping to return the suits withoutdoing any damage,” Amaranthe said.
“Such as with the trash vehicle?” Booksasked.
She winced. “When we have our men back, I’llsee what I can do about compensating those we’ve wronged.”
“I know,” Maldynado said in response to amuttered comment from Akstyr. “They are the worst outlawsyou’ll ever meet. What criminals worry about such things?”
Amaranthe shushed them, then shimmied up therope. Before climbing over the railing, she paused to listen forvoices or movement on the deck. Only the soft lapping of the wavesreached her ears.
She slipped over the railing and landed in asoundless crouch. Nothing stirred. She glided through the shadows,skirting the crane and capstans the size of huts. A single closedhatch allowed access to the lower levels. She collected the menbefore exploring further.
“Shall we light the lanterns?” Bookswhispered.
“Wait until we’re below decks,” Amaranthesaid.
At this point, she did not think anyone wasaboard, but she did not need someone on another dock noticing theirlight and coming to investigate.
Amaranthe pressed an ear to the hatch. Again,she heard nothing. She turned the latch and eased the dooropen.
A powerful stench rolled out, smelling ofrotten meat and death. Her unprepared stomach roiled, and images ofthe dam-those eviscerated men and women-washed over her. She bracedherself against the wall.
“Ugh,” Akstyr said. “It smells like ahalf-eaten possum left to bake on the street in summer.”
“Or dead people,” Books said, his voicehoarse, as if he was fighting back the urge to retch.
“Really, boss,” Maldynado said, “is itnecessary to take us to such desecrated destinations all thetime?”
“Apparently.” Amaranthe wondered if theSaberfist might have been a better bet after all. “Books, isit possible these people brought back some sort of contagiousdisease from their explorations? Something that…killed them?”
“Pizzle rot?” Maldynado asked.
“I made that up.”
“If it helps,” Akstyr said, “it smells likemore than pizzles are rotten down there.”
“How does that help?” Maldynado asked.
“I read the dock master’s report,” Bookssaid. “These fellows have been in port for a couple of weeks, andbefore that they were working Squall Lake.”
“So whatever happened…” Amaranthestarted.
“Happened after they arrived here,” Bookssaid.
“Do you think we’re in danger of catchingsomething if we go down?”
“If it is a disease, I’d guess we’re findingthem after the point of contagion, but I couldn’t be certain.”
Akstyr lifted a finger. “How about I stay uphere and stand guard?”
“How about you go first?” Maldynado said.“You’re the youngest. The most expendable.”
“What?”
“Maybe they just brought back a treasure thatsomeone wanted and someone killed them for it.” Amaranthe musedthat it was a strange line of work she found herself in when thatwas a cheery thought.
“And maybe not,” Maldynado said.
“I’ll go,” she said. “Akstyr, you get to findout a way to heal me if I contract something.”
“Uh, I don’t know how to do diseases,” Akstyrsaid. “It’s not in the On Healing book.”
“Get a shaman then. Sicarius has found themin the city before.”
“Sicarius isn’t here,” Maldynado pointedout.
All too aware of that fact, Amaranthe pushedthe hatch further open, descended three steps, and entered a darkcorridor. Mosquitoes whined in the air. The scent of urine andfeces lingered beneath the overpowering stench of death. Shebreathed through her mouth as she turned up her lantern. Closedcabin doors lined either side of the short corridor. She glimpsedmetal and coiled rope through an open hatchway at the end.Storage?
A creak sounded from the steps behindher-Books following with a lantern of his own.
“You’ll need help collecting all theequipment and hauling the suits out,” he said, “The kits weigh overone hundred fifty pounds each.”
She gripped his arm. “Thank you.”
Her intent was to bypass the cabins and gostraight to the storage area, but, in the confining corridor, Booksbumped an elbow against one of the doors. It had not been fastenedso it creaked open. He hesitated, then eased his lanterninside.
Whatever he saw arrested his attention for hestared for a long moment.
“Body?” A few steps farther down thecorridor, Amaranthe could not see in, and she was not quick to runup and poke her head under his arm.
“Yes.”
“Throat cut?” She doubted it.
“No. It does appear to be some sort ofdisease.”
Reluctantly, Amaranthe went to take a look.If it was a contagious disease, it was probably too late forthem to avoid it anyway.
The inert male body lay on a cot, his chestbare, his blankets thrown to the floor. A rough red rash coveredthe flesh, a rash Amaranthe recognized. Maybe it wasn’t the same.Maybe the symptoms were just similar. Maybe…
“What is it?” Books asked, watching herface.
“Hysintunga,” she whispered.
“That’s one possibility, but there are otherdiseases with similar symptoms. The insects that carry Hysintungaaren’t native to this area-they prefer hot, humid climates-and it’sunlikely this man died of that malady.”
“I’ve seen it in Stumps before,” Amaranthesaid. “I’ve been infected with it here before. By thatcolonel, Talconcrest.”
Books closed the door on the dead man.“Hysintunga is always fatal, isn’t it?”
“Unless you know a shaman who can healit.”
“But Sicarius is the only one who knows whereto find one?”
“Yes,” Amaranthe said. “It looks like thesepeople are beyond help anyway.”
“If those responsible for the kidnappings arealso responsible for this…how could they have known we’d comehere?”
“Maybe this has nothing to do with us. Maybethey just didn’t want this crew poking around on the bottom of thelake. For these people to be dead now, they would have to have beeninfected days ago.”
Amaranthe continued down the corridor. Morenarrow steps led down to the storage area where spindles secured tothe deck held coils of rope and chain. Cabinets lined thesidewalls, and a low ceiling sloped down to a larger double-doorcubby. She could stand straight, but Books would have to hunch lowto keep from hitting his head on ceiling beams.
“Let’s check these,” she said.
Books took one side and Amaranthe unlatchedthe cabinet doors on the other. Hooks and chains occupied onecubby, rope another, and copper equipment she could not identify athird. No diving suits.
“Any luck?” she asked.
“Not yet.” Books had reached the larger doorsat the end. He unlatched them and tugged one open.
An angry buzz came from the darkness within.A familiar angry buzz.
“Close the door!” Amaranthe shouted,stumbling for the exit. “Get back!”
When Book
s tried to comply, he cracked hishead on one of the beams, and his foot caught in a coil of rope. Hedropped his lantern and stumbled to the floor. His light winkedout. The door he’d thrust shut banged against the frame and bouncedopen again.
The glow of Amaranthe’s lantern was enough toreveal a fat insect as long as her finger flying from the hold. Atail reminiscent of a lizard’s streamed out behind it. Some utterlyuseless part of her mind remembered the Kendorians called themFangs.
Wings flapped, and the insect veered straighttoward Books. His feet were tangled in the rope, and hefloundered.
Amaranthe tore her sword free and set thelantern down in one motion. She darted to Books’s side and swung atthe insect. The blade sliced it in two. Its halves splatted to thedeck, the long tail still twitching.
Before she could reach down to help Books tohis feet, more buzzes filled the silence.
“Emperor’s warts,” she cursed. She startedtoward the cabinet, hoping to shut them in, but movement near thedoor made her jerk back.
Books extricated himself and leaped to hisfeet, his blade out before he stood fully upright. Four Fangsstreamed out of the cubby.
“Back to back,” Amaranthe barked. “Slice themor squash them beneath your boots, but you’re dead if you let thembite you.”
“Understood.” Books lowered into a crouch,sword raised.
One Fang veered toward Amaranthe. She whippedher blade at it, but the insect sensed the threat and flittedupward. Her tip smacked into a beam instead, jarring her arm. Theblade stuck in the wood, costing her precious time.
The insect arrowed toward her neck. Sheducked, spinning and tearing her blade free. Books’s sword slicedin, hacking a wing off the Fang. It spiraled toward a wall.
Before Amaranthe could thank him, she spottedtwo insects flapping toward him. “Watch out!”
The wingless one bumped against a cabinetdoor near her. Fear stole finesse, and she chopped at it like alogger with an axe. Wood chipped free, and bug guts splattered.
“Got one,” Books said.
“Where are the other two?”
Amaranthe put her back against the cabinetsand held her sword ready before her. She strained her ears,listening for their buzz, but she heard footfalls instead.Maldynado and Akstyr.
“Stay back, you two,” she called, chargingfor the corridor. “The bugs are deadly.”
She darted through the hatchway in time tosee Maldynado ducking and flailing his arms. Akstyr lingeredbehind, and he backed away at her warning.
A Fang buzzed about Maldynado’s head.Amaranthe ran toward him, sword poised for a strike.
He saw her coming and dropped to the deck.She never took her focus from the bug. It drew in its wings to diveat Maldynado, but she skewered it.
“Where’s the last one?” she demanded. If itescaped into the night, it could buzz about the city, infectingcountless citizens.
“Got it,” Akstyr said in a strainedvoice.
He stood on the steps, his arm outstretched.A bug hovered in the air, inches from his open palm. The wingscontinued to flap, but it did not make any forward progress.
Amaranthe raised her blade. “Shall I?”
“Wait,” he whispered.
Akstyr’s eyelids drooped, almost as if hewere falling asleep, but Amaranthe knew better. She did not lowerher sword and debated on simply ending it, but Akstyr neededpractice to master his art.
Seconds ticked by. Though she heard Maldynadorising behind her, she kept her eyes focused on the Fang.
She opened her mouth to question Akstyr, butpaused when smoke wafted from the insect’s wings. A heartbeat laterit burst into flame. Amaranthe gaped as it burned to a crisp. Ashestrickled to the deck.
“It worked,” Akstyr blurted, a grin on hisface.
“That was…disconcerting,” Books said.
“Can you do that with people?” Maldynadoasked.
Akstyr shrugged. “Probably not yet.”
Yet? The day he could do that would be theday Amaranthe feared Akstyr.
“Let’s see what they were guarding,” was allshe said.
The large cubby in the back of the storagearea held five diving helmets and suits as well as tubing andpumps.
“Now that’s disconcerting,” Amaranthesaid.
“What is?” Maldynado asked.
“The fact that Taloncrest booby-trapped thevery equipment we need?” Books knelt to inspect the gear.
“This does lend credence to our theory,”Amaranthe said. “That something’s down there in the lake and thesepeople don’t want it discovered.”
“So they killed the whole crew?” Maldynadoasked.
“It’s possible this doubled as an experiment.When I met that colonel, he was quite cheerful about furthering hisresearch and didn’t seem concerned about deaths. Actually, he waslooking forward to dissecting my cadaver.”
“He sounds like a lovely fellow,” Maldynadosaid.
“I’m not sure how experimenting with diseasescould tie in with the kidnappings though.” Amaranthe reached up andgripped one of the beams over her head. “But if it isconnected, and if there is a laboratory or hideout on thelake bottom, it might be handy to have a tugboat specializing inunderwater operations.”
“You want us to steal a ship?” Maldynadogaped at her. “Oh, Books is going to give you an extra hard timefor that. He was whining when you just wanted the suits.”
“Actually,” Books said, “if the owners ofthis vessel are all dead, I believe Maritime Salvage Law would bein effect.”
“What?” Maldynado asked.
Amaranthe grinned. “Finders keepers.”
“You mean we get to have our own ship?”Akstyr asked. “Nice!”
“Maldynado,” Amaranthe said, “want to comefind the engine room with me? See if things are in workingorder?”
“A tour through a part of the ship likely tobe littered with more corpses? Nice of you to think of me.”
“You could stay and help Books with thesuits. Of course, I’d have to leave him in charge since he’s theunderwater adventuring expert.”
“No, thanks.” Maldynado headed for the door.“Last time he was in charge, he forced me to swim naked in glacialwater.”
A trapdoor in the center of the corridor ledinto the bowels of the ship. Amaranthe climbed down a narrowladder, descending into a tight space crowded with machinery.Nothing clanked or whirred, and the cool temperature promised thefurnaces had been dormant for some time. The air smelled less rankdown there, though a faint singed odor came to Amaranthe’s nose,reminding her of a smelter.
At the bottom, she took a step, lifted herlantern, and halted. “Uh.”
Maldynado dropped down behind her.“What?”
She pointed at a contorted lump of metal thatresembled melted candle wax. “That’s the engine.”
“It’s, ah…” He touched an amorphousprotrusion that might have been a flywheel once. “Hm.”
“A brief but sufficient description.”
Maldynado walked around the contorted mess.“It’s melted right into the deck. You couldn’t even replace it witha new engine.”
“It looks like someone wanted to make surethis ship didn’t engage in any underwater adventures while it wasin town,” Amaranthe said. “If they saw it come into port, theymight have seen it as a potential threat. Even if the treasurehunters had no inkling of what lay below, someone could havechartered the boat and used it as a base of operations forinvestigating.” She rapped a knuckle on the warped engine. “And, ifthis ship was a target, it stands to reason the Saberfistcould be one too when it comes into port. We haven’t had good luckdealing with Mancrest, but maybe we should warn him that hisbrother’s ship may be in danger.”
A clank answered. Maldynado had wandered tothe far end of the engine room and was poking at a lock on a castiron box set into the floor.
“Are you listening?” Amaranthe asked.
“Huh?”
She sighed. Maldynado or Books would call hercrazy for missing Sicarius’s compa
ny, but he always listenedwhen she rambled on, speculating about their enemy’s actions.
“Do you think we should warn Mancrest thathis brother’s ship could be in danger?”
Maldynado snorted. “I wouldn’t worry about amilitary vessel. The marines can take care of themselves.”
“Against practitioners?” Amaranthe noddedtoward the melted engine again. “I suppose it’s possible some sortof acid did this, but it seems more likely the mental sciences wereinvolved.” She thought of Akstyr’s bug incineration trick above.She had seen him create a flame to light a candle, too. There mustbe an entire field devoted to heat and energy.
But Maldynado had turned back to the lock anddid not respond.
“What’s so fascinating?” Amaranthe squeezedpast a knot of pipes and joined him.
“This is warm.” He perched on a small stoolbolted to the deck next to the two-foot-by-two-foot box. Rivetssecured the corners, steel hinges fastened the lid, and a padlockhung from a sturdy steel loop.
Amaranthe touched the cast iron. A faint heatwarmed the coarse metal. She checked to make sure the key was notdangling on a hook nearby, or something equally obvious, beforefishing her lock-picking set from her pocket. “Scoot over.”
“Ah, yes,” Maldynado said. “Books mentionedthat you’d acquired that skill from Sicarius.”
She selected a pick and a torsion wrench andbent over the lock. “Did he mention it in a tone of chagrinnedconcern for my deteriorating morality?”
“Yes, but isn’t that his usual tone for allof us? And the world in general?”
After a few minutes of wrangling the pinsinto submission, the lock clicked open. Amaranthe hesitated,thinking of Books’s advice. “It’s imprudent to open a strange boxthat may be booby-trapped with magic, isn’t it?”
“How magical can it be? It’s part of aTurgonian ship.” Maldynado removed the lock and shoved the lidopen.
No explosions threatened to sear off theireyebrows. Good. Amaranthe peered inside, almost bumping heads withMaldynado.
A bronze-and-iron rectangular device restedinside. Two small bars-handles? — stuck out from the ends, levers anddials dotted the sides, and a red, multifaceted glass knobprotruded from the top. There was no bottom to the outer box, andthe device appeared to sit on the deck, but something beneath itkept it from resting flush.
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