“Er, what’s this?” she asked.
“It’s in the letter.”
“Did you…want me to read it now?”
Mancrest glanced at Maldynado. “Maybe later.When my ego isn’t around to watch.”
“Definitely drinking,” Maldynadowhispered.
Mancrest was acting strangely, or atleast not in accordance to what she expected from him based onprevious meetings, but no scent of alcohol lingered about him.
“All right.” Amaranthe considered the creamyenvelope. It was too large to stick into a pocket without folding,and she feared it was rude to treat a missive stamped withsomeone’s warrior-caste seal so cavalierly. “Can we talk, LordMancrest? It’s about your brother’s ship, the Saberfist. Andthe missing people.”
Mancrest’s forehead crinkled-had he thoughtshe’d come about something besides business? No, he was probablysurprised to have his brother brought into things. He recovered andwaved them to seats around a gaming table.
“No soldiers waiting to jump out?” Maldynadoslid open the door of a credenza, as if a squad might be hidinginside.
“Not this time.” Mancrest smiled. “I wasn’texpecting you.”
Amaranthe slid into a seat and launched intothe story, sharing not only the information on the underwaterstructure, but everything that had led them to discover it. Whenshe admitted to the garbage vehicle destruction, Maldynado chokedand thrust an accusing finger her direction, claiming she“ practically forced me to drive at knife point.” Amaranthe swattedhis finger away and continued on. She wanted to be honest since thehead of The Gazette would have the resources to tease outany truths she left untold-especially truths that involved arsonsand collisions. Mancrest merely stared at her through therecitation.
When she finished, he leaned forward, peeringinto her eyes from different angles.
“I believe,” Maldynado said, “he’s nowwondering if you’ve been drinking. Or worse.”
“No.” Mancrest leaned back. “I just wasn’tsure… Well, I don’t know you that well, so I don’t know whenyou’re joking.”
Amaranthe resisted the urge to tell him thathe would know her better by now if he had not been so insistent ontrying to apprehend her.
“No joke,” she said. “I don’t know if they’llattack the Saberfist or not, but this is a threat to Stumpseither way, and your brother’s ship is best equipped to deal withit.”
Maldynado leaned close to her and whispered,“If they deal with it, what will we do? We’resupposed to solve the problems and get credit, right?” Whisper ornot, his aside was loud enough for Mancrest to hear.
“What’s important,” Amaranthe said, liftingher chin and meeting Mancrest’s eyes, “is that the threat to theempire is vanquished. Who gets credit is immaterial.”
Besides, her plan should let her team comeout as heroes to people who mattered-those trapped in the submergedstructure. She brushed a wayward strand of hair behind her ear,using the movement to hide a covert wink for Maldynado.
“The good of the empire,” Maldynado said.“Right, right.”
Mancrest stroked his jaw. “I’m not sure whowould believe this story, but my older brother was a younglieutenant during the Western Sea Conflict, and he’s seen magicbeing used. He knows the imperial stance is propaganda. But, youmight not get a chance to tell your story. He and all his marineswould be duty-bound to apprehend you as soon as you stepped aboardhis ship.”
“I wasn’t planning to talk to him.”She smiled at Mancrest. “I was hoping you would.”
“Oh. Yes, of course. I should have realizedmore prompted this late night visit than an interest in sharing atip for the paper.”
“I wouldn’t interrupt your sleep-” Amarantheglanced at the envelope, “-or midnight scrivener aspirations forsomething that wasn’t important.”
“Yes,” Maldynado said, “she’s not youraverage girl who shows up in the middle of the night to ply youwith wine and sex in the hopes of being impregnated with awarrior-caste scion that your family would feel obligated to helpraise, and, oh, maybe there’d be a stipend for the mother aswell.”
“Surely, that’s not your idea of anaverage girl,” Amaranthe said, though Mancrest’s ruefulsmile might have meant he had experienced similar situations. “Areyou willing to meet your brother at the docks in the morning?” sheasked. “If he’s been gone on a long voyage, he’ll doubtlessly beeager to reunite with family and hear about what’s been going on intown. And the lake.”
“Doubtlessly,” Mancrest said dryly. “Thougheven with his ecumenical background, I don’t know if he’ll believeany of this. Especially from his little brother, the writer, wholoved to tell stories as a boy.”
“He doesn’t need to accept it as fact basedon words alone. I’ll give you the location. You just need toconvince him to float over there and send divers down to take alook.”
“And get eaten by a kraken?”
“Well-trained military men know how to takesuitable precautions, do they not?” Amaranthe hoped Books wouldcome up with a tactic to use against the kraken, but she knew verywell she might be endangering lives with her request. If that waswhat she had to do to get her men back and rescue the captives, sobe it.
Mancrest sighed. “Why do I have a feelingworking with you will cause me as much trouble as trying to captureyou did?”
“That’s a given,” Maldynado said.
Amaranthe merely folded her hands on thetable and smiled agreeably. Mancrest had given in; there was noneed to cajole him further.
Her smile faded a few minutes later when shewas standing beneath a streetlamp, reading Mancrest’s note.
Ms. Amaranthe Lokdon,
I have treated you unfairly, and for that Iapologize. I had plenty of time to think over my behavior when Iwas failing to reach those keys and waiting for the soldiers towake up and…rescue me. Yes, that’s what it was, and I mustconfess it. For the second time, you left me helpless…butunharmed, though I deserved worse for trying to apprehend youwithout listening to your story or researching your situation.
I have done so now, and though I do notbelieve all the facts are out there to be discovered, I suspect youdeserve to be exonerated. Of course, I am not in a position togrant you that, but I am open to listening, if you are stillinterested in sharing. You have no reason to trust me, but if youwill give me another chance, I’d like to take you for a picnicdinner in the Imperial Gardens. I’ll understand if you bring yourbodyguard (but I hope you won’t).
To the peace after the war,
— Deret
“Guess you wooed him after all,” Maldynadosaid.
Amaranthe twitched, jerking the paper away.She had not realized he had been reading over her shoulder.
“I thought there was no hope for therelationship once you dropped the keys in the pyramid hallway andleft him locked up.” Maldynado reached over her shoulder and tappedthe page. “I agree. If we’ve got Sicarius back by then, leave himbehind. He’ll kill the sunset-picnic-mood faster than a swarm ofmosquitoes.”
“You know, people like privacy to readletters.” Amaranthe returned the page to the envelope. She had toomuch else on her mind to worry about Mancrest’s words. “Let’s checkon Books and Akstyr. We need a way to defeat that kraken.”
“You mean the plan isn’t to use the marinesas bait while we sneak in from below?”
“It is, to an extent. I do want the soldiersthere as a distraction, so nobody will notice us walking up in ourdiving suits, but I don’t want them getting mauled either. We needto kill the kraken.”
“No chance you can woo it with your tongue,huh?” Maldynado asked.
“Judging by our previous encounter, I thinkit’d be more likely to pull my tongue out, wrap it around my bodylike bacon, and swallow me whole.”
“Such imaginative imagery.”
“I get creative when I haven’t had anysleep.”
“The next few hours should be interestingthen,” Maldynado said.
“Likely so.”
CHAPTER
15
Awareness returned to Basilard slowly.Memories of dreams wafted away like smoke in the wind. A dimblurriness met his eyes, and he blinked, struggling to focus. Aface came into view.
Sicarius.
His features held no warmth or friendliness.Basilard tried to lift a hand, but bindings secured him to thetable. Sicarius was free, though still nude. He wore his brace ofthrowing knives on his forearm and held two daggers, one the blackblade he favored and the other one of Basilard’s fighting weapons.Basilard’s gaze lingered on the sharp steel, and he remembered hislast thoughts; before he had succumbed to the drugs, he had beensure Sicarius knew of Basilard’s plan for killing him.
Basilard turned his head from side to side.Other prisoners lay on the tables, some horizontal and otherstipped vertical against the wall. None appeared to be awake. Howmuch time had passed? Deep shadows shrouded the corners of thelaboratory, and the lights were dimmer than he remembered. It mustbe nighttime, though one might never know the difference downhere.
Sicarius lifted his hands and signed, Youare alert?
That he signed instead of speaking meant hehad escaped, not been released, and being quiet was important.
Had Basilard’s hands been free, he would haveresponded with “vaguely,” but, strapped down, he had fewer options,so he only nodded.
Sicarius slipped a key into the first lock,the one that bound Basilard’s wrists to the table.
As soon as his hands were free, he asked,How’d you escape?
The woman. Sicarius’s signs were asterse as his spoken words.
She released you? Because she wantedto… Basilard stopped. He had no interest in the details; hejust wanted to know if Sicarius had won her over-or forced herover-and if she could take them to the surface.
She was unable to craft the sphere.
Was? Basilard asked. She’sdead?
Yes. We have to find another way off. Onlythe other twin and a male telekineticist can make the protectivebubbles. The woman is incapacitated from your attack, and the maleisn’t on board right now. We may be too deep to swim out.Regardless, a kraken guards this place. Our blades would be uselessagainst it.
No, even firearms would be uselessunderwater. The woman told you all this? Basilard asked.
Yes. Sicarius’s cool gaze told him todrop it.
Basilard swallowed, imagining Sicariusletting that woman think they had some connection, and then turningaround, interrogating her, and killing her. True, Basilard himselfhad killed, but only in combat and only men. Not women. His eyesnarrowed in remembrance. Or children.
Sicarius unfastened the bindings aboutBasilard’s ankles, then continued with those tying his torso andthighs to the table.
Basilard tilted his head. Why come forme?
Sicarius flicked him a glance that could havemeant anything and continued to unlock the bindings.
When the drugs were overtaking Basilard, hehad not expected Sicarius’s help, indeed had thought Sicarius mighthave set him up to die. Was it possible he had imaginedeverything?
Sicarius released the final straps andstepped back.
Do you know I know… Basilard stoppedhimself. If Sicarius had not figured it out, it would be foolish toalert him.
I know, Sicarius signed.
Basilard waited for him to continue, to offersome ultimatum or say something like, “If you make a move againstme, I’ll kill you.” He still held all the knives. Sicarius did notadd anything to his comment though. Maybe he figured it was allassumed.
You could get rid of me down here with noone on the team wise to it. And maybe Basilard should not bepointing things out. What if Sicarius was only releasing himbecause he needed help escaping? And what if he planned to killBasilard on the way out? Or maybe… Do you not see me as athreat?
You are capable.
As scant an admission as that was, Basilardfound it heartening. Then why free me? Basilard askedagain.
Because Amaranthe would wish it.Sicarius flipped Basilard’s knife and extended it, hilt first.
The answer, or perhaps the honesty of theanswer, surprised Basilard. So, I’m safe around you as long asshe’s alive? He smiled, though he knew Sicarius would notreturn the gesture.
If you force me to defend myself, Iwill. Sicarius shook the knife, emphasizing Basilard shouldtake it. Right, they had to escape before anyone noticed Sicariusmissing and the woman dead.
Basilard took the knife and stepped into theaisle. He paused as one more thought occurred to him. IsAmaranthe the reason you were captured?
He thought of the way she had talked him intothe Clank Race. Her intentions had been good-maybe that was whatmade her requests appealing-but he would not be at the bottom of alake, stripped naked, and the latest specimen in some scientist’sresearch experiment if not for her.
I got closer than I should have,Sicarius signed. I sensed the Science being used, but…I did not want to return without answers to herquestions.
Huh, he had been right. Basilard was going tosign one of his grandfather’s sayings, that many a male duck hadbeen lured to its demise by the call of a female, but Sicariusturned away, as if to say, “Enough chit chat. Time for work.”
He strode to the next table and cut thetubing leading to a young man’s veins. He unlocked the bindingsthere as well, though he did not wait for the person to wake beforemoving to the next table.
Why free them? Basilard asked, notbecause he objected, but because Sicarius would not do it foraltruistic purposes.
Distraction, Sicarius signed.
While we do what?
Take this-Sicarius twitched a hand toencompass the structure-to the surface so we can getoff.
Take over the…tiller? Basilard hadno idea if something like this had a tiller-probably not-butSicarius would know he meant the navigation system.
Yes.
You know where that is?
But Sicarius had already turned back to thecaptives. Basilard helped with his own knife. Most of the otherprisoners were young, in their teens and twenties. He hoped theywould be able to escape themselves without being harmed. Moreharmed, he corrected himself, when he noticed freshly stitchedscars gouging the abdomen and groin areas of more than one.Basilard glanced down at himself and was relieved to see noincisions. Sicarius must have found him before they got startedwith…whatever it was they were doing exactly. He shuddered.
Sicarius bumped him on the shoulder andjerked his head toward the exit.
The first captive was stirring.
Wouldn’t it be better to work withthem? Basilard asked. A combined force to confront ouradversaries?
Athletes would be useless againstpractitioners.
Basilard was not certain what value he mighthave against a shaman or wizard either. He recalled the humiliationof his old owner, Arbitan Losk, plucking him from hiding andflattening him to the floor with a force he had been unable toelude.
A noise started up, a throbbing whine thatvibrated from the walls loudly enough to wake any slumberingguards.
“Alarm.” Sicarius jogged toward the exit.
Basilard remembered the invisible barrier andwondered if Sicarius had disabled it. He must have if he had comein from the woman’s quarters or somewhere that direction, but itwas up now, evinced by a strange sheen with yellow tendrilsshimmering in the air.
Sicarius plucked a thin knife off a consolenear the hatchway. A bloody ball was skewered on the tip.
Though Basilard noted the gory thing, he didnot realize what it was until Sicarius held it up to the eyeballreader. The recognition did not quite make Basilard flinch, but hedid curl a disgusted lip. Given his background, he ought not besqueamish about such things, but he could not help but find itdiscomfiting. Maybe because his putative ally was the one who hadremoved it, and it might very well have belonged to that woman.
The shield wavered and disappeared.
Sicarius and Basilard passed into the longcorridor outside, ducking their heads to dodge intermittent pipesalong the ceiling. The glow of the orbs on the
wall waxed and wanedwith each pulse of the alarm. The corridor curved in angledsegments like some mechanical snake stretched along the lake floor.They passed closed hatches, but Sicarius did not pause to check anyof them.
Rhythmic thumps sounded above them.Footfalls? Was there a second floor? Basilard had not noticedladders on his previous trip, but that had been a short journey.They had already passed the cabin he had started out in.
Sicarius ran through a four-way intersection,then rounded a bend. A few feet before a dead end, a ladder rose toa closed hatch in the ceiling.
Instead of starting up, Sicarius smashed hisblack dagger into an orb on the wall. Shadows thickened in thecorridor. He darted behind the ladder and crouched, his back to thewall. Basilard joined him.
Above, the footfalls started and stopped acouple of times, and Basilard had the impression of guards pausingto collect reinforcements.
Plan? Basilard asked.
If a manageable number of men come down,we jump them. Sicarius retained the eyeball-on-a-knife, and itmade a grisly accent to his hand signs.
Would you have done that if Amaranthe werehere? Basilard caught himself asking.
He thought Sicarius might give him a frostylook or tell him to pay attention to what they were doing. Insteada faint ruefulness softened his stony expression.
Doubt I would have needed to. She would havesubverted one of the guards.
You can’t subvert one? Basilard joked,not expecting a reaction beyond a glare.
Apparently, I lack charisma.
Basilard gaped at him, not certain if thathad been a joke or not. Overhead, the footfalls clomped to a stopat the hatch, and he focused on the matter at hand. Sicarius, too,turned his attention upward.
The hatch creaked open. A pistol descendedfirst, then a guard eased his head through. Basilard held hisbreath. Attacking the guards on the ladder would be the best spotfor catching them by surprise.
Wariness stamped the man’s face, though, andhe checked both ways, aiming the pistol without stepping onto therungs. His eyes turned in Basilard’s direction and paused. Maybethe shadows weren’t deep enough.
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