They were gesticulating and talking, morethan one at a time with frequent, emphatic points at the hatch.Were her men inside? Or other escaped prisoners?
Symbols were etched in a plate above thedoorway. Amaranthe waved for Books to take her spot and decipherthe language.
Engine room, he signed after apeek.
Amaranthe fingered the hilt of her sword, butshe did not want to attack practitioners. They would have far moretricks than Turgonian guards. Besides, she did not know if what laybehind the hatch was something that should concern her or not.
Let’s sneak past, Amaranthe signed,then put a finger to her lips and pointed to the ladder for Merva’ssake.
She waited until all of the practitioners’heads were turned and eased through the intersection, figuringsudden movement would be more likely to draw someone’s eye.
A clang sounded down the corridor behindBooks. Guards searching the vessel? The practitioners were tooengrossed in their argument to notice.
Amaranthe waved for Maldynado and the othersto follow, one at a time. A bead of moisture slithered down herribcage. More than nerves made her sweat; now that they had leftthe icy water, the suit kept her far warmer than she needed.
Akstyr slipped across without incident.Good.
Out of habit, Amaranthe lifted a finger toher mouth to nibble on a nail, but the gloves stopped her. Bookscrossed, and Merva stepped into the intersection. Amaranthe curledher fingers into a fist. It was working. Everyone would-
A thunderous boom erupted, and the corridorheaved.
Amaranthe stumbled back and threw an arm out,trying to keep herself from falling, but the smooth walls offeredno hand holds, and the suit affected her balance. She hit thefloor, her helmet flying from her fingers. It clanked down thecorridor, bouncing as it went, and she cursed under her breath.
Quakes rattled the fortress. Half of her teamhad fallen to the floor as well, making her glad for her decisionto leave the harpoon launchers behind; someone might have cuthimself on a poisoned blade.
Curses in foreign languages-multipleforeign languages-spilled from the adjoining corridor.
Amaranthe rolled onto her knees and grabbedher helmet. She waved and pointed toward the ladder, silentlyurging her team to hurry. She hoped the commotion had kept thepractitioners from hearing them.
Merva and the men filed up the ladder.Amaranthe went last, her oversized boots making the ascentawkward.
Clomps sounded in the corridor she wasleaving. The practitioners? No, Turgonian words punctuated thefootfalls. Those were guards coming.
Ignoring the awkward boots, Amaranthe flew upthe last few rungs. She rolled into the corridor above just as aman below demanded, “Have you seen the intruders?”
Her first ludicrous thought was that he wastalking to her, but the voice was not that close. The guards had tobe at the intersection. She was tempted to stick around to listento the conversation, and see if she could find out what was goingon in the engine room, but those men would soon move on with theirhunt.
At the top of the ladder, anotherhatch-filled metal corridor stretched.
“Which way to navigation?” Amaranthewhispered.
Merva spread her hands, palms up.
“That way.” Maldynado pointed down onecorridor. “Or that way.” He pointed the other direction.
“Twit,” Books said.
Amaranthe chose a direction at random. Thepassage angled to the left, and a well-lit chamber opened up at theend. Something shimmered in the air before it. Some sort of magicalhatch?
Books pointed to a plaque above the doorway.“Navigation.”
Amaranthe slowed as they approached. She didnot see anyone inside yet, but such an important station should bemanned.
Another boom rocked the fortress, though notas fiercely as the first, and she remained upright this time.
What is that? she signed to Books.Some kind of attack from the marine ship?
Charges dropped in a waterproofcontainer? he suggested.
Amaranthe inched closer to the chamber. Thefar wall held an eight-foot-wide oblong porthole above a consolefilled with levers, gauges, and a head-sized illuminated dome.Water pressed against the porthole, and an orange glow from thelights outside bathed the silt and rock of the lake floor. A schoolof the translucent guard fish flitted past.
One man walked into view from the side, and asecond rose out of a high-backed chair that had hidden him fromsight. They leaned over the controls and argued in their ownlanguage. One pointed at the porthole. Muskets leaned against theconsole between them.
Amaranthe used their distraction to inchcloser, though she was careful not to touch the shimmering field.Energy crackled in the air and nipped at her cheeks.
On a side wall, an open weapons locker heldcutlasses and the empty musket slots. A row of yellow vials hung ina small rack. If those contained the same concoction that hadrendered so many people unconscious, they might prove useful.
The voices of the two men grew more agitated.Outside the porthole, a metallic box floated into view. It couldn’tbe heavy since it drifted down instead of plummeting. Amaranthesquinted, trying to decipher a black stamp on the box. An oil canover crossed swords, the symbol representing the army’s engineeringdivision.
Books grabbed her arm and tried to pull herfurther back into the corridor, but too many others occupied thespace. Before they could organize a retreat, the metallic boxexploded with a blinding flash.
The force hurled her backward. Someone caughther, but they tumbled to the deck in a tangle of limbs anyway.
In the chamber, the navigators also toppled,and their muskets clattered to the floor. One man lunged to hisfeet and pointed at the porthole, curses flowing from his lips. Atleast, Amaranthe assumed they were curses. Nobody said happy thingsin that tone of voice.
She spotted the reason for their ire: ahairline crack streaked across the porthole glass.
Amaranthe climbed off of Books, and hetouched her arm, nodding for them to retreat to speak. The rest ofthe group followed.
“You know what they’re saying?” she whisperedwhen they had backed to the ladder. Voices still floated up frombelow, but she could not tell if any belonged to the guardssearching for them.
“They’re cursing the Turgonian devils outsideand the blond devil inside,” Books whispered.
Blond. That had to be Sicarius.
“They want to move this vessel,” Books wenton, “but he’s killed the engineers and barricaded himself in theengine room.”
Those were her men inside, givingthose practitioners trouble. But if they were trapped, they neededher help. Amaranthe rubbed sweat from her brow and ignored an urgeto claw off the stifling suit. They might need to flee outsideagain.
“All right,” Amaranthe said, “here’s theplan: you and Akstyr take Merva and find the rest of the athletes.Maldynado and I will get inside navigation and deal with thosetwo.” And maybe the practitioners in front of the engine room, too,if she could pilfer a couple of those vials.
Books lifted a finger, as if he meant toobject-or perhaps warn her of the lack of prudence in herscheme-but shouts came from the level below, and he dropped hishand. “Very well.”
“One more question,” Amaranthe said. “I knowthese helmets are waterproof. Are they air-proof, too? If one choseto wear them in here?”
Books’s brow crinkled. “I imagine they’d haveto be. So long as you don’t run out of the air in your dedicatedsupply, you should be fine.” He nodded to the tank on her back.
“Thanks.” Amaranthe waved for him to take offwith the others. “Be careful.”
Books, Akstyr, and Merva left, leavingAmaranthe and Maldynado alone to face the practitioners. She took adeep breath and pointed toward the navigation room. “I’m going todistract those two while you grab a couple of the yellow vials inthe weapons locker, got it?”
“Got it, boss.”
Amaranthe returned to the barrier and knockedon the wall. The two men, who had been arguing over the crack,whirled and ga
ped. She spoke quickly, wanting to head off anylunges for weapons-or magical attacks.
“Greetings. It looks like you gentlemen coulduse some help. Do you speak Turgonian?”
“Help!” one man yelled. He wore spectaclesthat rested so low on his nose that Amaranthe could not imaginethem offering anything more than an enhanced view of his ownpores.
“Was that a question,” Amaranthe asked, “or acall for assistance?”
“Are you with them?” He stabbed afinger toward the ceiling with such vigor that his spectacles fellthe rest of the way off his nose. He caught them with a growl andthrust the frames back over his ears.
The second man, a rangy fellow with pale haircombed over a balding pate, watched the exchange in silence. Long,bony fingers flexed at his side, as if he might be thinking ofhurling some spell at Amaranthe.
“With the marines?” she asked, her eyes wide.“No, they want us dead. I’m Amaranthe Lokdon. I run The Emperor’sEdge mercenary outfit. Haven’t you heard of us?”
The two men exchanged blank looks. That wasfine. As long as they weren’t thinking of attacking her.
“I assumed you had,” Amaranthe said, “becauseyou kidnapped two of my men.”
“Oh,” Spectacles growled. “Sicarius. You runwith his group?”
“He runs with my group.” Amarantheturned to Maldynado. “I make all the decisions and do all theplanning. Why is nobody ever aware of that?” She hoped her whiningmade her sound innocuous, like someone who wasn’t a threat, likesomeone who could be invited in to chat further….
“Because you’re friendly and nice, andhe’s…someone who likes to kill people who are friendly and nice?”Maldynado suggested.
“That must be it.” Amaranthe faced thepractitioners again, empty hands spread. “Gentlemen, it looks likeyou’re in a dungeon with few prospects for escape. Am I correct indeducing that my men are making trouble in your engine room?”
“We’re taking care of them,” Spectaclessaid.
Another boom rattled the fortress. The men’swary eyes lifted toward the ceiling. If the marines kept droppingcharges, one was bound to land on top of the vessel eventually.
“I could get them to walk out right now,”Amaranthe said, “and you people could amble in, fix up thoseengines, and escape this lake before the marines get lucky.”
“The kraken will handle their ship,”Spectacles said. “Even now, it’s attacking them. They will eithersink or flee to the docks, wetting their trousers on the way.”
“Uhm,” Amaranthe said, “you speak Turgonianvery well, but you don’t seem to understand the warrior mentalityof our people. The captain will be tickled at the idea of facing akraken. A training exercise, if you will. If they thought the beasta severe threat, they’d be too busy facing it to drop charges overthe side.” That story sounded plausible, anyway. In truth, therewere probably a couple of lowly privates up there, assigned thetask of sending the explosives down in hopes that destroying thefortress would make the kraken lose interest in defending it. “Oncethey dispatch your little pet, they’ll be able to focus all theirattention on this vessel.”
“We’ll be fine on our own,” Spectacles said.“We-”
The balding man stopped him with a raisedhand, and Amaranthe wondered if he, despite being the quiet one,might be in charge. “What are you proposing, woman?”
“Amaranthe,” she said, figuring they’d bemore likely to see her as an ally if they were on a first namebasis. “May we come in to discuss this? Some of your guards havebeen looking for us, and we’d rather not get shot in the back whilewe’re talking to you.”
The men frowned at her. Despite her attemptat wide-eyed innocence, they seemed to think she might be up tosomething. Annoying when the villains had a modicum ofintelligence.
Spectacles murmured a few words to his bossin their language. Amaranthe hoped it was something like, “They’resimple fighters and not a threat to our magical greatness.”
“Drop your weapons and kick them back intothe tunnel,” the leader finally said.
“Kick?” Maldynado said. “One doesn’tkick a Teldark and Brook blade.”
“Ssh.” Amaranthe tossed her short sword ontothe floor behind them.
Maldynado gently laid his rapier next to herweapon.
Spectacles walked to the wall to the left ofhis side of the barrier where a box emitting a soft green glowperched at face level. He lowered his spectacles and leaned forwardto stare into it. The barrier shimmered and winked out.
Amaranthe waited for the man to step back andgesture for them to enter. She eased inside, hands open and spread.Maldynado did the same, but he stepped to her side, a couple offeet closer to the vials in the weapons locker.
“Stay there,” the leader said. “What’s yourproposal?”
“I’ll get my men to leave peacefully,”Amaranthe said, “and you let us walk, or swim, out of hereunmolested.”
“Sicarius is worth a million ranmyas.”
“Yes, and if you wanted that, you should havekept him unconscious.” She assumed that was how they had capturedhim in the first place, no doubt thanks to her sending him off tosnoop. Someone must have caught him with a whiff from one of thosevials.
“Litya woke him up,” Spectacles said. “Wetold her not to. She paid for it, too. Your men have killedmany of our guards and some of our practitioners. Letting them walkaway unpunished isn’t acceptable.”
“I see. Are you two in charge?” Amarantheasked, wondering if she was negotiating with someone who had thepower to do anything.
“We’re on the committee.”
“Committee? As in shared powers? Andvotes?”
“We’re not savages like you Turgonians,”Spectacles said. “We run a democracy here.”
“Well.” Amaranthe clasped her hands andstrolled to the porthole. Their gazes followed her, leavingMaldynado unobserved. “I’m not going to talk Sicarius into walkingout if your intent is to capture-or shoot-him,” she said.
“Suppose we take you prisoner and use yourlife to barter with the assassin?” Spectacles mused.
“That’d be a gamble on your part.” Amarantheleaned her back against the console, ostensibly so she could chatface-to-face with both men, but she was more interested in checkingon Maldynado’s progress.
He was leaning on one arm that happened torest on the wall near the weapons rack, but his quick headshakesaid he had not yet palmed the vials.
“The problem for you, gentlemen,” Amaranthewent on, “is that Sicarius doesn’t care enough about anyone in thegroup-about anyone at all-to risk himself on their behalf. He’slike that kraken out there.”
She twisted and leaned toward the porthole,gazing up as if she had spotted the beast. The men leaned forward,too, no doubt worrying their prize kraken was idling about insteadof terrorizing the marines.
Amaranthe thought about signaling toMaldynado to sneak up on the men and bash them both on the backs oftheir heads, but practitioners seemed to be good at sensing bodilythreats.
“Sicarius is pragmatic and practical and outfor his own interests. He’ll crush you if you inconvenience him.”She faced the men again and, in her peripheral vision, sawMaldynado nod once. She hoped it meant he had the vials, not thathe agreed with her assessment of Sicarius. “Don’t let greed leadyou to disaster,” Amaranthe urged the practitioners. “Money isn’twhat brought you here in the first place, is it?” In truth, she hadno idea, but it sounded like a promising guess.
“Our research requires funds,” Spectaclessaid. “Ultra modern mobile labs don’t build themselves.”
“Why do you need to be mobile?” she asked,figuring the more they chatted with her, the less likely they wouldbe to hold a knife to her throat as part of a bargaining ploy.
The men’s lips grew flat.
“Your research isn’t sanctioned by yourgovernment?” Amaranthe asked, her tone not one of accusation. No,she gave them her bestbrotherhood-of-folks-beleaguered-by-oppressive-government-policiessmile.
“You could s
ay that,” Spectacles said. “Mostof our funds won’t come through until we deliver the babies, andthat’s a long-term project, obviously.”
Babies? What were these people doingdown here?
“A project that will be more difficult tocomplete without Litya,” Spectacles added.
The quiet man whispered something in a stringof vowel-rich syllables. A warning not to reveal so much? Whateverit was, both men scowled at her. Litya must have met the sharp sideof one of Sicarius’s daggers.
“Out of curiosity,” Amaranthe said,pretending not to notice their flinty stares, “were you hired ortold to come here by a group called Forge?”
The men exchanged sharp looks.
“We have Turgonian customers, but your peopledidn’t fund our mission,” Spectacles said.
That…wasn’t quite what she had asked. Thatthey recognized the organization told her much though.
“Forge is just a client, then?” Amarantheasked.
Spectacles shrugged. “Who in Turgoniacouldn’t find a use for a child gifted enough to win at theImperial Games or excel on the battlefield? That’s the only way tojoin your archaic aristocracy, is it not?”
Amaranthe said nothing. Was that whatthe miners had been planning? If they combined funds to buya son who could one day gain entrance into the warrior castethrough merit, the parents would share the family honors: land,entitlements, access to the emperor. Though businesses had broughtcommon citizens many opportunities, no amount of money could buywhat the warrior caste received as a birthright.
Something clunked against the hull of thevessel. A flash of light appeared outside the porthole, and amassive boom coursed through the fortress.
Amaranthe grabbed the console and managed tostay upright, but Spectacles tumbled to the floor, cracking hishead on the seat. A wailing reminiscent of an injured bird startedup, creating a cacophony as it competed with the ongoing alarm. Therangy man gripped the console with both hands, and his eyes closedto slits as he concentrated on something.
Maldynado crept toward Spectacles. Amaranthenodded, thinking this might be a chance to subdue these two.
From his hands and knees, Spectacles flunghis fingers outward. An invisible force hurled Maldynado back, andhe hit the wall with a resounding thump. His helmet dropped fromhis hands, hitting the floor with a clatter. He slid down the walland onto his backside, then slumped into a stunned heap.
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