Conspiracy

Chapter 17

“If we don’t avoid detection, we will die shortly,” Sicarius said, his knife still quivering where it had stuck in the metal floor.

It took a moment for people to pull their eyes away from the dagger, especially Yara, who hadn’t seen the weapon before.

“Yara,” Amaranthe said quietly, “push the train to full speed, please.”

Yara tore her gaze from the knife. “Understood.”

“As soon as we enter the tunnel, start braking,” Sicarius told her. “We need to stop before we come out on the other side.”

Yara nodded once.

Sicarius yanked his dagger out of the floor, sheathed it, and returned to shoveling. Heat poured from the furnace, and a vortex of red and orange flames writhed inside. The needle on the gauge that marked miles per hour crept toward the maximum line. Without the dozens of heavy cars behind it, the engine needn’t work as hard as usual, but they were climbing a steep slope, and the locomotive trembled as it picked up speed. Vibrations thrummed through Amaranthe, rattling her teeth in her skull. She tried not to think about curves in the tracks that they’d encounter as they ascended into the mountains, curves that were not safe to go around above certain speeds.

Basilard gathered the firearms left in the cabin from the soldiers and hopped onto the coal box. He started checking and loading everything. If that craft was made from a material similar to Sicarius’s dagger, Amaranthe couldn’t imagine what a black-powder weapon could do to damage it. Maldynado was standing next to her, and she gave him a bleak look.

“My plan’s starting to sound better now, isn’t it?” he asked.

Amaranthe might have laughed, but she didn’t want to draw Sicarius’s ire. She simply said, “What if it’s a man?”

“A what?”

“A man in charge of the enemy craft,” Amaranthe said. “Would you still be willing to seduce him so the team could escape?”

“I… uhm.”

“Just wondering how far into the realm of self-sacrifice you’d be willing to travel to help your comrades.”

Maldynado propped his hands on his hips and gazed out one of the front windows. “Is it a pretty, young man, or an ugly old curmudgeon?”

Basilard’s eyebrows arched, and Yara looked over her shoulder at Maldynado.

“What?” he asked.

Amaranthe decided to join Sicarius at the furnace before he started throwing knives around again to silence the conversation. His grimness worried her, and she wished she’d tried harder in the past to pry out the story of where he’d gotten that dagger.

Sicarius lifted his foot from the pedal, letting the furnace door swing closed. He gripped the shovel and watched the tracks ahead. The snow was picking up outside, cutting down on the visibility, but Amaranthe spotted a hint of red light in the distance. That search beam.

“I’d have more ideas if I knew more about what this is,” she said.

“I have no facts, only conjecture,” Sicarius said.

“That’s more than the rest of us have.”

The train headed around a slight curve, and Amaranthe had to grab the wall to brace herself. The floor quaked beneath them. The needle on the speed gauge had passed the last line and was pressing against the rim.

When the tracks straightened out again, Sicarius pointed through the snow. “There.”

In the distance, a towering cliff rose with a dark tunnel entrance in the center of it.

“We’re going to make it,” Amaranthe said, “and then you can take the time to enlighten us while we’re hiding in the dark.”

The domed top of the black craft came into sight above the cliff.

“Or not,” she murmured.

The craft was still a ways from reaching the edge of the cliff, and its beam swept back and forth over the rocky hillside above the tunnel, but it was covering ground rapidly. Amaranthe remembered math problems from school where she’d had to calculate when the paths of two trains coming from opposite directions would cross. She chose not to attempt such a calculation now. It was going to be close, and she didn’t want to know if they’d be on the wrong side of that closeness.

“What’s the worst thing that can happen if they spot us?” Amaranthe’s voice vibrated with the trembling of the locomotive.

Sicarius shook his head once, then pinned Sespian and Yara with his stare. “Increase speed.”

“If we go any faster, the train will fly apart,” Sespian said.

“Let it,” Sicarius barked.

As the train closed on the tunnel, the cliff seemed to grow larger, filling the sky, and the black craft disappeared from view. It hadn’t gone anywhere though, and Amaranthe could see it in her mind, drawing ever closer.

“Can that beam do more than light up the scenery?” she asked.

Sicarius didn’t answer.

“Even if it’s just to tell me that you don’t know, or that my questions are annoying, some kind of response would be appreciated,” Amaranthe whispered to him.

Sicarius met her eyes, his gaze considering, and he opened his mouth to say something, but a loud clank came from the engine. Resounding thunks followed as something dropped off the bottom, banged against the wheels on its way by, then flew out onto the tracks behind them.

Maldynado stuck his head outside, watching behind them. “I hope that wasn’t an important part.”

“A few more seconds, and we’ll be in the tunnel,” Yara said.

An ominous shadow fell across the train. The snow stopped abruptly. No, it hadn’t stopped; it was being blocked.

Amaranthe grabbed the side of the doorway and stuck her head outside. The sky was gone. She couldn’t see anything above the trees except the flat black bottom of the craft. There was nothing to look at except that blackness, no protrusions, no color, no etching or detail. Under daylight it might be different, but now Amaranthe had the impression of the same inky alloy as that of Sicarius’s dagger.

The train sped into the tunnel before the red of the searchlight crossed over the edge of cliff. Safe, Amaranthe thought. Maybe. When she glanced back, she saw a scarlet curtain fall across the tunnel entrance. It must have covered a quarter mile swath of snowy forest. More, the light caught the back half of the coal car before the train was swallowed by darkness.

“Full stop,” Sicarius said.

Yara pulled gradually on the brake lever. Sicarius pushed her out of the way, grabbed the lever, and threw his weight backward.

Brakes screeched. In the confining tunnel, the noise blasted at Amaranthe’s eardrums. She was too busy being hurled forward to notice for long. Someone slammed into her back. With her cheek already flattened against the window, she was in no position to complain.

Sparks flew up from the wheels, brightening the dark stone tunnel walls. The exit, a slightly less dark hole on the far side, approached rapidly. With the speed the train had been going, Amaranthe didn’t know if it could stop in time.

The forward force lessened a smidgen, and whoever was pressed against her back tried to peel away from her. She planted both hands on the window and pushed herself upright.

On the other side of the furnace, Sicarius crouched, leaning back, the tendons in his neck standing out as he continued to pull at the long brake lever. Smoke poured from the engine, shrouding the view ahead. If something in there had caught on fire…

The train halted inches from the snowy overhang at the end of the tunnel. Smoke continued to leak from the seams of the engine, though at least the noise abated. Amaranthe’s ears ached after all that screeching.

“You’re insane!” Yara shouted. “You could have wrecked the train and killed us all.”

Amaranthe stepped toward her and patted the air with a placating hand. Yelling at someone who carried as many knives as Sicarius was never a good idea.

But all Sicarius said was, “Your efforts would not have halted the train in time.”

Amaranthe touched his shoulder and nodded toward the tunnel exit. “Check it out, will you? I think they came over the cliff in time to see us go in.”

Sicarius released the brake, slid past Basilard and Maldynado, and hopped out of the train.

“That man is a lunatic,” Yara growled.

Maldynado was pushing his shoulder-length brown curls out of his face with one hand, and with the other he patted Yara on the shoulder. “Yes, but he’s a lunatic that’s good to keep on your side.”

“Touching,” she snapped at him.

Maldynado lifted his hand and met Amaranthe’s eyes. “The man who can tame this woman would excel in a career of training tigers, sharks, grimbals, and other wild creatures with bad attitudes.”

“Are you trying to be clever?” Yara touched her forehead, where a new knot was rising. She must have banged against something too.

“Rarely,” Maldynado said.

Sespian pointed a shaky hand toward the ominous black plumes wafting from the engine. “Should we get out of here? I don’t think our train is making another run.”

“I concur,” Amaranthe said.

“We have to walk up to the pass?” Maldynado asked. “How far is it from here?”

Yara glared at him.

“I’m not whining,” Maldynado said. “I’m just concerned we won’t make our meet-up time with Akstyr and Books.”

Basilard hopped to the ground and Amaranthe followed him, gravel shifting under her feet when she landed. She touched the rock wall for balance and grimaced when her hand came away dirty with algae or some other slick, damp growth. She pulled out her kerchief.

Basilard coughed and waved at the smoke in the air. It had a tarry, burning-rubber odor that made Amaranthe’s eyes water.

“Are you all right?” she asked Basilard, figuring he’d been the one to crash into her from behind.

Fresh blood streamed from a deep gash on his head, but he merely nodded. When he caught her eying it, he signed, New scar.

“We may all have them by the time this is over,” Amaranthe said.

Whose idea was it to let Sicarius drive? That was worse than a Maldynado ride.

“You haven’t been in a garbage lorry with him.”

“I heard that,” Maldynado said from the other side of the train.

“Do you have the emperor over there?” Amaranthe asked, wanting to make sure everyone was out.

“Yes,” Sespian called back. “Though I think we should move away from the train before the boiler explodes.”

“Get back in the train,” Sicarius called as he ran back down the railway toward them.

“ In the train?” Amaranthe asked, not certain she’d heard him correctly.

“In. Now!”

A boom sounded somewhere outside. The earth quaked, and something that sounded like a rifle shot emanated from the rock overhead. Stones detached from the ceiling and clattered onto the tracks.

“Now is good,” Amaranthe said.

Before she’d taken more than a step toward the train, Sicarius grabbed her about the waist and hoisted her inside. He leaped in after her, and lunged to the other side where Sespian was climbing in. Sicarius gripped Sespian’s forearm and hauled him in so swiftly that the emperor’s feet flew from the ground and he let out a startled squawk.

Basilard, Maldynado, and Yara climbed in of their own accord, the last person ducking inside a second before a head-sized rock plummeted from above and landed on the still-smoking engine. It bounced off but left a gouge in the metal.

A succession of booms followed the first, some of them so loud that the echoes seemed to bounce around in Amaranthe’s head. More rock fell, sometimes pebbles, sometimes boulders. Dust filled the passage, competing with the smoke. Amaranthe dragged a sleeve across her face, wiping away tears.

“Would it be better to run outside?” Even yelling, she wasn’t certain anyone would hear her.

A boulder slammed into the top of the locomotive cab, and the ceiling dropped so low it cut into Amaranthe’s view of the others. An inch to the left, and it would have smashed in Maldynado’s head. Eyes bulging, he backed away, then decided that wasn’t enough and dropped to the floor, arms protecting his neck and skull.

“Down.” Sicarius jerked his thumb toward the floor so everyone would see.

Amaranthe dropped to her knees beside Maldynado. Dust had flooded the cab, and she tied her kerchief around her mouth and nose.

“They’re hovering outside,” Sicarius said. “They want to drive us out. They-”

Another round of booms drowned out his voice. Rubble poured from the ceiling, and plumes of dust stormed into the tunnel. Visibility vanished. Even with the kerchief, fine particles invaded Amaranthe’s throat and nostrils. Shards of rock flew sideways, ricocheting off metal-and people-inside the cab.

She sank low, her head tucked into her knees, her eyes clenched shut. They were being buried alive; she didn’t want to see it.

A sharp rock struck her temple, and she grunted in pain. Amaranthe felt like she was breathing dirt instead of air, and a spasm gripped her lungs. Coughs wracked her body. She fought against panic and the urge to run outside and take her chances with the enemy craft. By now there might not be an outside to run to.

A light weight settled on her upper back. She peeled open one eyelid and found herself looking at Sicarius’s jaw. He’d draped himself over her, protecting her head.

Amaranthe took comfort from his presence and forced herself to stay calm, to breathe slowly, to pull as much air from the dust miasma as she could. What seemed like an hour of quaking and falling rubble was probably only a minute. The noise finally faded, and other coughs-and more than a fair number of curses-filled the air. At least, if her men were cursing, they were alive.

“Emperor’s balls,” a raspy Maldynado said, “we’re trapped.”

Amaranthe lifted her head, and Sicarius shifted away. Her first thought was to check on the emperor and her team to make sure everyone was alive, but the walls of rubble surrounding them on all sides stunned her. Rocks blocked one doorway and half of the other, and boulders had rolled into the cabin. The windows were broken. A single wan lantern had survived the rockfall, and its weak flame flickered, half-choked by the hazy air. Weak or not, it revealed plenty. As Maldynado had said, they were trapped.

“Emperor’s what?” Sespian lifted his head and brushed dirt and pebbles out of his hair.

“Uhm, never mind,” Maldynado said.

Basilard’s fingers flickered, their movements exaggerated so the signs were readable in the poor light. You’ll have to rework your curses, given the present company.

“Maybe so.” Maldynado poked Yara who hadn’t yet lifted her head. “You alive, Grouch?”

Yara stirred, and rubble sloughed off her as she sat up. She looked at Maldynado’s hand, but was apparently too battered to bother berating him for touching.

Sicarius had his eyes closed, head tilted to the side. Listening for more attacks? Amaranthe didn’t hear anything except for periodic shifts of dirt and pebbles trickling to the earth.

“Are we going to be able to get out of here?” Sespian asked.

He sounded calm, despite their position and the blood trickling into his eye from a gash on his brow. Good, nobody was panicking yet.

“Of course.” Amaranthe bumped Sicarius’s arm with the back of her hand. “Right?”

Sicarius eyed the walls of rock. “We’re not far from the tunnel exit, though bringing down the cliff might have compromised the entrance area and caused a landslide.”

“I’m going to call that a yes,” Amaranthe said.

“Optimistic,” Sespian said.

“Yes. Yes, I am.” She flung open the toolbox, or tried to. Flying rocks had dented the lid and warped one of the hinges. The box creaked open slowly. “Grab tools, everyone. Let’s see if we can dig our way out of here.”

“Uhm.” Maldynado looked back and forth from the toolbox to the walls of boulders surrounding them. “Unless you’ve got a steam tractor tucked inside there, I don’t see how-”

Amaranthe cut him off by pressing the coal shovel against his chest. “We’re getting out of here.”

“What if the enemy is waiting outside?” Maldynado asked.

“I doubt they’ll stick around all night.” Amaranthe selected an axe for herself. It wasn’t an ideal tool for digging, but it ought to be sturdy enough to lever rocks aside. “They’ll probably think they’ve buried us alive.”

“Then… they’ll probably be right,” Maldynado said.

She scowled at him. “You aren’t digging yet?”

Maldynado lifted his hands. “All right, boss, I’m digging.” He headed for the side of the cab that was only halfway hemmed in.

The rubble appeared less dense on that side, and Amaranthe spotted an open area at the top of the tunnel. Though no drafts of cool air whispered down from above, she thought that might be a route of less resistance. Basilard and the others were rooting through the toolbox for something suitable. Sicarius had slipped out past Maldynado and was squeezing through a gap between two boulders. If there was an escape route there, that’d be fantastic, except that it was pointing in the opposite direction, to the rear of the train instead of toward the exit.

Amaranthe pointed at the gap near the tunnel ceiling. “I’m going to climb up there and have a look.”

“Be careful,” Sespian said.

Sicarius, who hadn’t quite slipped away into the darkness, paused to look at Sespian and then Amaranthe. She could never guess at the thoughts going through his head, but feared they might have to do with their conversations regarding non-sentimental words to convey sentimental feelings. It wasn’t the time to worry about it, she told herself.

“Thanks, Sire,” Amaranthe said. “I will.”

She thought to send a similar warning to Sicarius, but he had disappeared into the dark crevice.

“Where’s he going without a light?” Maldynado asked.

Amaranthe didn’t answer. She climbed past Maldynado, hands gripping rock cold with the mountain chill. Pebbles shifted under her feet, but she managed to squirm up the stone wall to the gap. There was room for her to lie flat on her belly with her head brushing the stone ceiling, but not much more. She doubted the bigger men could follow her, but it hardly mattered. A few feet ahead of her, the rocks filled the gap, creating a solid wall from floor to ceiling. She crawled toward it anyway. Maybe it was only a couple of feet thick and she could dig her way through the barrier. She refused to believe that it was impassable. She hadn’t put this much effort into rescuing Sespian just to have her team die in a cave-in.