Deadly Games

CHAPTER 6

Before they entered the boneyard, Sicariusstopped Amaranthe with a hand on her arm. He pointed at plumes ofblack smoke wafting into the sky ahead of them. Overgrownblackberry bushes and the rusted carcasses of locomotives hid thesource.

“Bonfire?” Amaranthe guessed.

“No. Listen.”

Amaranthe closed her eyes and cocked an earin the direction of the smoke. Despite the homeless and hunted thatcamped in the boneyard, quiet ruled there, except for the cicadasthat favored the trees on the southern end. She and Sicarius wereat the northern entrance, though, closest to the city, and sheheard nothing beyond chirping birds. A working train rumbled by tothe west, following the tracks along the lake and into Stumps.Wait. She listened harder. Maybe that was not a locomotive, andmaybe it was not far enough west to be on the tracks.

“Steam carriage?” she asked. “No, I can’timagine anyone wealthy enough to own one spending time here.Enforcer wagon more likely.”

Amaranthe took a step in the direction of thesmoke, intending to check it out, but Sicarius had not released herarm.

“Don’t you want to investigate?” she asked.“Or did you want to stand here and fondle my arm for a while?”

He released her. “I was alerting you to thepotential of trouble so we could avoid it.”

“So…no interest in arm fondling, eh?”

She expected him to ignore her or perhapssigh. Instead, he said, “Were that my goal, your armwouldn’t be my target.”

Amaranthe blinked. “Why, Sicarius, is itpossible you have a playful side beneath your razor-edged knives,severe black clothing, and humorless glares?”

“I will lead.” Sicarius headed into theboneyard. “Make no noise.”

She was the one to sigh, but she followed himanyway. One day, after they finished their work and made peace withthe emperor, she was going to drag him off some place where itwould be impossible to train and the only acceptable activity washaving fun. She had heard of tropical islands in the Gulf where theinhabitants welcomed everyone with bead necklaces and feasts. EvenTurgonians were supposed to be allowed, so long as they did notcome to conquer.

Sicarius did not choose a direct path to thesmoke. He circled through weed-choked aisles between rows of boxyfreight cars. Nobody stirred in the shadowed interiors, not withenforcers around.

Sicarius climbed the rusty side of an earlymodel locomotive. Salvagers had torn away the siding, removed thewheels, and scavenged any engine parts light enough to carry.

Crouched in the shadow of the smokestack,Sicarius waved for her to come up. She clambered to the top. Theywere closer to the source of the smoke now, and she glimpsed thetop of a steam wagon between rail cars a couple of aisles over. Itgleamed with familiar red and silver paint. Enforcers.

Something clanged, like a baton striking themetal side of a car.

“See any more?” a man called.

“We probably got the wizard already,” cameanother male voice.

“The ones we’ve chained say it’s notthem.”

“Of course they’re not going to admitit, patroller. Not when the punishment is death.”

“They’re all gang thugs. They’re probablygoing to get a death sentence anyway.”

“The lady said the wizard wasyoung.”

Amaranthe mumbled, “What has Akstyrdone?”

Sicarius said nothing.

She had seen enough. She jumped down, herfeet stirring a cloud of fine dust when she landed. It tickled hernose, and she pinched her nostrils shut. The last thing she neededwas to alert the enforcers to her presence with a mighty sneeze.Sicarius alighted beside her, somehow not kicking up any of thedust covering the sun-faded bricks.

“Let’s warn Akstyr and Books,” she whisperedand headed into the maze. Warn wasn’t exactly what she wanted to dowith Akstyr. Kick might be a better verb. Maybe he had a goodreason for doing something that had made someone think he was awizard, but she doubted it.

Their hideout lay a half a mile to the east,close to the far boundary of the boneyard, and she hoped they wouldhave time before the enforcers made it over there. Between thehundreds of rail cars and the narrow, cluttered aisles of junk andweeds between them, the area would not be easy to navigate with asteam wagon. Of course, she and Sicarius had been gone all day. Theenforcers might have already been to their hideout. That thoughtstirred worry in her gut, but, no, even if they had searched hersection of the boneyard, their words implied they had not capturedAkstyr yet.

Amaranthe relaxed when she heard familiarvoices.

“I did not mistranslate it,” Bookssaid.

“Well, it’s not working,” Akstyr huffed. “Itried three times.”

“Perhaps the error is not with thetranslation but your interpretation.”

“Are you calling me inept, old man?”

A clang reverberated from within a railcar.

Amaranthe and Sicarius turned down the deadend to their hideout. Books stumbled out of the “parlor” car with apalm pressed to his temple. She’d thought the men were past thepoint of engaging in fisticuffs if she was not around to mediate,but perhaps not.

“Did Akstyr hit you?” she asked. Maybe sheshould let the enforcers find him.

Books waved an acknowledgement of theirarrival and said, “Not exactly. His concoction emitted fumes thatcaused me to lunge away and smack my head on the wall.”

Sicarius climbed the nearest car and crouchedon the roof, standing watch.

Since it appeared Books would recover,Amaranthe gave him a pat on the shoulder and went straight tobusiness. “There are enforcers searching the boneyard for a youngwizard with a gang brand.”

Akstyr stuck his head out of the rail car.The usual spiky queue he styled his hair into had sagged, leaving alimp carrot top dangling on either side. Soot and blue goo stainedwhat had started out as a baggy white shirt. A faint smudgedecorated his upper lip.

“What?” he asked. “Why?”

“I thought you might know,” Amaranthe said,reaching for her kerchief. “Been performing your arts on anybodyoutside of our group?”

“I wish he wouldn’t perform them on anybodyinside the group,” Books muttered, his hand still clutchedto his temple.

“Uhh… I don’t know what you’re talkingabout,” Akstyr told Amaranthe.

“Positive?” she asked.

Akstyr shoved his hands in his pockets.“Yes.”

“What about that girl you were talking tothis morning?” Books asked.

Akstyr scowled at him. “I can’t talk togirls?”

“She was comely and well-dressed,” Bookssaid. “Maybe warrior caste.”

“What’re you saying? That no good-lookinggirls would talk to me?”

“Essentially.” Books lowered his hand andcurled a lip when his fingers came away bloody.

Amaranthe glanced up at Sicarius, not surethey should be wasting this time with the enforcers nearby. Hewriggled his fingers in one of Basilard’s signs. The predators werecloser, but not yet a threat.

“Akstyr,” Amaranthe said, “what you do withyour talents is your choice, but doing it where the group is hidingout can get us all in trouble.”

He bent his head and kicked at a weedthrusting from beneath one of the rusted car wheels. “I just wantedto make some money on the side. You don’t pay us hardly nothing,and I’ve got expenses. I don’t just drink and whore like Maldynado.I’ve got to buy books and components for researching now.” Hejerked his elbow toward the car without taking his hands out of hispockets.

“Understandable,” Amaranthe said. “Nexttime…” She approached him with the kerchief. The smudge above hislips was bugging her. Since his hands were occupied, she figuredshe could clean it off before he objected. She dampened it andswiped it beneath his nose.

“What’re you doing?” he balked.

“Cleaning that smudge,” she said.

“What smudge? There’s no smudge.”

“No, there’s definitely something there.”Despite his protests, she managed to give it a good rub.

“Amaranthe, you’re tormenting the lad,” Bookssaid, though his eyes glinted with amusement.

“Huh,” she said. “It won’t come off. Oh, it’shair.”

“It’s not hair.” Akstyr stepped out ofreach. “It’s a mustache.”

“I don’t see anything,” Books said.

“That’s because you’re senile.” Akstyr liftedhis nose and smoothed his upper lip to show it off. “Anyone canplainly see that it’s coming in nicely. I’ve been working on it forseveral days now.”

“I see,” Amaranthe said. “A bit on the wispyside still.”

“Wispy and invisible,” Books muttered.

She shook her head and settled for wipingsome of the goo off of Akstyr’s face and shirt. He sighed deeplyunder this torture.

“As I was saying,” Amaranthe said, “nexttime, just come to me if you need help purchasing items that canbenefit the group. I’ll find a way to get the money.”

“And don’t be a dolt and bring your…clientshere,” Books said. “What’d you do for her anyway?”

Amaranthe wondered that, too. And how had thewoman known to find Akstyr? Honored ancestors, he didn’t haveflyers out around the city, did he?

“Healed her,” Akstyr said.

“Nothing appeared to ail her,” Bookssaid.

“Look, it was her toenail, all right? Somefungus. It was all black and nasty. Could we not talk about it?This isn’t exactly what I dreamed about when I started studyingthis stuff. It’s embarrassing. I wish I could go to Kyatt orsomewhere that I could study real Science and learn to dointeresting things.”

Leave the empire? Was that the goal to whichhe aspired? Amaranthe supposed she could understand that, given thedanger his studies brought him here, but she would have to keep aneye on him. If he planned to leave, he probably did not care aboutexoneration or accolades from the emperor. The day might come whenhis goals were at odds with hers.

“Well…” Amaranthe rested a hand on herbelly. “I’ve found your healing skills to be quiteinteresting. And useful. In a thank-you-for-saving-my-life kind ofway.”

Akstyr grunted.

“And please update your flyers to make surepeople know you’d rather visit them than have them visit here,” sheadded.

“I don’t have flyers.”

“Update whatever your promotional method is,”Amaranthe said. “Now, tell me about your research. Did you findanything?”

“Oh!” Akstyr clambered into the rail car.

“I didn’t mean to send him scurrying away,”she murmured.

“We found a fine yellow powder inside a divotin the cork,” Books said. “It was visible only with a magnifyingglass.”

Akstyr popped back out again, a hefty tomebalanced in his arms. He held it open, displaying weathered pagesfull of foreign text comprised of sweeping curlicues andcomplicated symbols. Amaranthe could not imagine writing a page inthe ornate script, much less an entire book.

“What language is that?” she asked.

“It’s Nurian,” Books said, “though acalligraphy version. It was most difficult to translate, and it didnot help that someone was impatiently breathing down-”

“Just look at the picture.” Akstyr tapped thepage.

Several yellow dots were sprinkled around ahomely brown root with more kinks and snarls than a hair ball.

“That’s the powder that was on the cork?” sheasked. “It comes from that root?”

“This might be the powder,” Akstyrsaid. “I’m…not real experienced at identifying things yet.”

“An understatement.” Books massaged histemple.

“If this is the right powder, the root it’smade from can make you sleepy if you eat it. But wizards havetinkered with it, and there’s a recipe here for enhancing itseffects, so it can knock someone out completely.”

“Is it put in food or water?” Amarantheasked.

“It can be, but it’s so fine that people havealso made blow tubes and breakable capsules for distributing it inthe air. Breathing it can be enough to knock you out.”

“So, it’s Nurian?” Amaranthe thought ofArbitan Losk. Was it possible another Nurian had come to thecapital with a plan to disrupt the empire? Or to get at the emperorsomehow? Tradition mandated he would be at the final days of theImperial Games, and there was that dinner…. She did not know howdisappearing athletes might be used against him though. Couldsomeone be getting the competition out of the way so a particularloyal athlete would make it to the end to get close to the emperor?For an assassination attempt? But, if so, why bother to kidnap somany people, across multiple events?

“Maybe.” Akstyr tossed his head, flickinghair out of his eyes. Thanks to his errant experiments, it had thesame snarls and tangles as the root today. “Maybe not. The root isfrom the Nurian continent, but it’s actually the Kyattese that madethe powder and have done most of the experimenting with it.”

“They wouldn’t attack the empire, though,”Amaranthe said. “Or would they? They’re supposedly a peaceful folkwith academic tendencies, but we did try to conquer them a coupleof decades ago. Could they be harboring thoughts of revenge?”

Akstyr looked around. “Are you still talkingto me? ‘Cause I dunno about that stuff.”

“No, just thinking out loud. Books?” sheasked, thinking to draw him into the conversation-he had wanderedaway and seemed to be looking for a cloth for his cut.

“Anyone home?” Maldynado’s voice came fromthe distance.

Amaranthe winced at the loudness of it.

“We’ve got news for-ouch!”

She jogged out of the dead end to findSicarius standing before Maldynado and Basilard. Maldynado wasclutching his shoulder.

“Lower your voice,” Sicarius said. “Enforcersare nearby.”

“You could have started with that instead ofthrowing a rock at me,” Maldynado muttered. He spotted Amarantheand said, “Mancrest wants to meet with you.”

Sicarius glared. Maldynado was lucky he hadwaited until after the rock throwing to deliver thisinformation.

“You arranged another meeting for me?”Amaranthe asked. “Are we certain enforcers and army officerbrothers won’t be involved?”

Maldynado thumped his chest. “I setthe meeting place this time. Tomorrow night, Pyramid Park. Nobodycould possibly ambush you there.”

She snorted and looked at Sicarius, thinkingof their first meeting. He hadn’t exactly ambushed her, but he hadappeared behind her as if by magic. She still did not know how hehad gotten there without using the only set of stairs leading tothe top. He appeared to be too busy glaring at Maldynado to askjust then.

“All right,” Amaranthe said. “Did hesound…interested in hearing more from me? Did you arrange thingsagain, or was it his idea?”

“His idea,” Maldynado said. “He wants to talkabout the kidnappings, but he sounded interested in you. And wantedyou to leave Sicarius at home.” Maldynado winked. “I think youcharmed him. Maybe he’s ready to take you to dinner.”

If Sicarius’s glare grew any frostier, itwould leave icicles dangling from Maldynado’s lashes. Or perhaps anice spear thrust between his eyes.

“It’s likely another trap,” Sicarius toldAmaranthe.

“This Mancrest thing isn’t the priority now,”Amaranthe said. Eager to change the subject, she added, “I’d likeyou gentlemen to get out of the boneyard before the enforcers amblethrough. Please assist Books and Akstyr in their research. Sicariusand I have something to do tonight and may be back late.”

“Nothing that will make Deret jealous, Ihope.” Maldynado snickered, as if he had made some fabulousjoke.

The building trembled as a locomotive rumbledinto the station down the street. From the darkness of The BrewedPuppy rooftop, Amaranthe watched a tenement building across thestreet while she waited for Sicarius to join her. The stench ofburning meat wafted up to her, mingling with an omnipresent thickyeasty smell oozing from the building’s pores, and Amaranthe judgedthe old woman’s dismal opinion of the eating house’s quality to beaccurate.

With her elbows propped on a low wall and aspyglass raised to her eye, she checked each window, searching fora man with a woman and two young boys. She did not know if shewould recognize Raydevk based on a vague memory of the man’sfather, but if she found the right combination of people…

She paused. Could that be it? Beyond athird-story window, a woman sat, knitting on a couch in aclutter-filled, one-room flat. Toys littered the floor at her feet.While Amaranthe was trying to judge if the carved wood blocks andautomata represented boys’ or girls’ playthings, two youngstersscampered into view from behind a room partition formed byfurniture draped with clothing. They chased each other around thewoman’s chair, but an upraised hand and word from her halted that.She thrust a finger toward another clutter-partition, this one witha curtain hanging on a rod to delineate a door. The childrendisappeared into the dark space. Their sleeping area, Amarantheassumed.

Voices sounded below as a couple exited theeating house, and she shifted her elbow to move the spyglass fromher eye. Something gooey made her sleeve stick. She drew her armback with a grimace and picked off tar.

She yawned and glanced around her rooftopperch, thinking of Sicarius’s warning to check her surroundingsfrequently. Moonlight gleamed against a stovepipe and providedenough illumination to confirm nothing stirred nearby. No doors ledto the lower levels of The Brewed Puppy-she had climbed up via adrainpipe-and she doubted anyone except Sicarius would sneak up onher. She returned her attention to the brick building across theway.

“Is he there?” came Sicarius’s voice frombehind her.

Amaranthe almost dropped the spyglass.

“Not yet,” she said, putting her back to thewall so she could face him.

It took her a moment to pick him out,standing in the shadows of a chimney. Had he just arrived? Or hadhe been testing her? Seeing if she would notice him before heannounced himself? And why did she always feel like he was an armyinstructor, bent on training her to be a better soldier?

“You found a uniform?” Amaranthe asked.

He glided out of the shadows, soundless, likea haunting ancestor spirit. The moonlight did not reveal the colorof his outfit, but it appeared less dark than his usual black, andshe thought she detected familiar silver piping and buttons. A boxycap covered much of his blond hair.

“Yes,” he said.

She touched his sleeve when he knelt besideher, and her fingers met the familiar scratchy wool of an enforceruniform. She wore hers as well, the only article of clothing shehad retained from her old life.

“Did you…uhm, where’d you find it?”Amaranthe had asked him not to maul anyone for a uniform, though hedid tend to do things his own way.

“Clothesline.”

“Oh, good.” Her hand bumped an enforcer-issueshort sword hanging from his belt. He had not found that ona clothesline, but it was a typical part of the uniform, so shedecided not to ask. She wore one, too, as well as handcuffs. Shepointed at the window she had identified earlier. “I think I’vespotted the wife and children. Maybe we should…interview herbefore the husband gets home.” Yes, “interview” sounded friendlierthan interrogate. “She might know what he’s up to. I can talk toher, see what I can learn, and you can snoop and see what you canlearn.”

“Too late,” Sicarius said. “The husband hasarrived. Or an enthusiastic lover.”

“Huh?” Amaranthe lifted the spyglass to checkon the flat again, but jerked it from her eye as soon as the scenecame into focus. “Ugh. I don’t want to walk in on that.”

“They’ll stop.” Sicarius started for thedrainpipe leading to an alley below.

“Maybe we should wait until they’re done,”Amaranthe said.

“Why?”

“I’m sure he’ll be in a better moodafterward. Would you want to be interrupted in the middleof…stoking the furnace?”

He said nothing. He probably thought itridiculous to worry about such a thing.

“We’ll just wait here and…” She groped fora way to pass time that would not make Sicarius balk. Chat? No.Draw a grid and play Dirt Defender? No, not enough light. Emulatethe people across the street? Hah. Sure.

“Watch?” Sicarius said when her silence wenton.

“What? No! I used to arrest people forthat.”

Grunts drifted up to the rooftop. The lovershad clambered out of their window and were undressing each other onthe fire escape. That was one way to avoid waking the children,Amaranthe supposed. Though the neighbors might not appreciateit.

“We could discuss the team uniform,” shesaid, joking.

“The what?”

“Maldynado thinks we should have a teamuniform.”

The long silence that followed said plentyabout his opinion of the idea. She collapsed the spyglass, tuckedit into a pocket, and moved away from the edge of the roof so shecould not be seen from the fire escape. “We’ll just take our timegetting over there,” she said.

“The plan?” Sicarius asked.

Yes, it would not be as easy for him to snoopwith two adults in the room. “Back to the original.” Amaranthepatted a pocket that held a forged document neatly folded intoquarters. “It seems we have the magistrate’s permission to searchthe premises.”

“If they recognize one of us?” Sicariusasked.

“I doubt they will. Miners don’t get muchtime off to roam the city and peruse wanted posters.”

“If your source is correct, this onedoes.”

“We’ll adjust the plan if need be,” shesaid.

“It would be far simpler to go in, grab him,and force him to answer questions.”

“Sicarius…” Amaranthe hung her head.“Sespian is never going to want to get to know someone whosesolution for every problem is torturing people. I know it’sefficient, but I don’t think he’s someone who can respect a man whoisn’t humane.”

“Humane,” Sicarius said flatly.

“Yes. At least in one’s actions. Nobody canbe judged for what’s in his thoughts, eh?”

“And the humane thing to do is todisguise ourselves as enforcers and lie to these people to obtainanswers.”

Er, she hated it when she was trying to bemorally superior and someone pointed out that her idea was onlyslightly less sketchy. “I think it’s a…humane option, yes. If allgoes well, nobody will be hurt. Is it ideal? Perhaps not, but Idon’t know of an ideal situation. I’m beginning to think ourcircumstances preclude those. But maybe it’s always been that way.If the legends are anything to go by, being a hero doesn’t meanbeing perfect. Being a hero means overcoming those imperfections todo good anyway.” There that sounded plausible. Or pompous. Was shetruly comparing the two of them to the great heroes of old?“ Anyway, I think Sespian is far more likely to admire someone whoeschews the easy solution, however efficient, in favor of the onethat does no harm. I’m sure of it.”

Sicarius said nothing at first, and shewinced in anticipation of a cold reaction. Surely thephilosophizing of a twenty-six-year-old woman could only make himsnort in derision. Inwardly anyway. He would never deign to be thatexpressive outwardly.

“I see,” Sicarius finally said. “And areyou?”

“Am I what?” she asked. Her own thoughts hadsidetracked her.

“More likely to admire someone likethat.”

Huh. Did he care what she thought ofhim? Enough that he might make a humane decision instead of apractical one? For her? She found herself reluctant to test thathypothesis, for she might be disappointed-and hurt-if it provedfalse down the road. “I know it’s the nature of women to try andchange men, but you don’t have to do anything on my behalf. I’mjust trying to help with Sespian. In my arrogance, I think I’m morelike him than you are, and I may have more insight into what wouldmake him…interested in knowing you.”

“Not arrogance. Fact. They’ve completed theircoitus. Let’s go.”

Amaranthe blinked at his abrupt switching oftopics, but she recovered and jogged after him. They skimmed downthe drainpipe, waited for a couple of locals to enter the eatinghouse, and crossed the street to the apartment building. Sheslipped past Sicarius to open one of the double doors and stepinside first.

Nobody occupied the shabby parlor, and halfof the gas lamps on the walls were out. She headed for a hallway atthe back. Doors lined both sides, and the staircase she sought roseat the far end. A faded gray runner had collected so much dirt, shebarely recognized the repeating sword pattern. She did know it hadbeen one of the early themes woven on the first steam looms, makingit a testament to the rug’s age.

At the base of the stairs, she stopped nearone of the working lamps, intending to check Sicarius’s uniform.She trusted him to get the details right, but she needed to know ifhe had any rank pins or badges that would mark him her superior. Ifso, she would have to amend her spiel to pretend she was takingorders from him. But, when she saw him in the light, she froze andstared.

Clad in the crisp, clean lines of a grayenforcer uniform, he looked…good. Handsome, yes, but heroic, too.Not like some assassin who lurked in the shadows, ready to jab adagger into someone’s back, but like someone noble who helpedpeople.

It’s just fabric, girl, she told herself, butthe thoughts brought a lump to her throat nonetheless. What mighthe have been had his childhood been different? Normal.

“Something inaccurate?” Sicarius asked.

“No.” Amaranthe cleared her throat. “No,you’ve got it right.” She lifted a foot and placed it on the firststair, but paused again. “Do you-or did you ever want to besomething else? For an…occupation? When you were a childmaybe?”

Anyone else would have given her a perplexedfrown over such a random question. He…gazed at her without a hintof his thoughts. Floorboards creaked in a room nearby. A muffledconversation went on behind a door. In the hallway, he neithermoved nor spoke. She searched his eyes. Did he spend even half asmuch time wondering what she was thinking as she did wondering whathe was thinking?

“Never mind,” Amaranthe said. “I just meantyou’d be…believable as an enforcer.”

She headed up the stairs.

“A soldier,” Sicarius said quietly.

Amaranthe halted. “You daydreamed of being asoldier?”

“When it was necessary for my focus to beelsewhere, I thought of it occasionally.”

He caught up with her and kept climbing,perhaps considering the conversation over. Focus to beelsewhere. As in to block out the pain of some torturouschildhood training session? He did not expound, and she did notask. She matched him, and they ascended the steps side by side.

“Like Berkhorth the Brazen?” she asked,wanting to leave him with better thoughts than of some past need towill his mind elsewhere. “The third century general who was sogifted with a blade that an entire city surrendered en masse whenthey saw him walk up with a single squad of soldiers?” They roundedthe second-story landing, and she kept talking, warming to the ideaof Sicarius as the legendary hero. “The man so fearsome that noneof the soldiers guarding that city realized his squad was coveredin blood and wounds and had only a single, battered sword betweenthem because they’d just escaped capture and torture?”

Sicarius slanted her a faintly bemused look.“Starcrest.”

Her toe bumped a step, and she caught herselfon the railing. “Fleet Admiral Starcrest? Really? I picture youmore as a warrior general than a brilliant naval strategist.”

They reached the third floor and anotherempty hallway.

“You believe I lack intelligence?” Sicariusasked.

Amaranthe jerked a hand up. “No, no.” It hadbeen some time since he had thrown a knife at her, and she did notwant to give him a reason to consider it again. “It’s justthat…ah, you lose to me three out of four times when we playStrat Tiles.”

“Because you cheat.”

“How do I cheat?” she asked, trying to readhis face to see if he was irked or merely giving her a hard time.She never should have given him permission to tease her.

“You talk,” Sicarius said.

“Talking isn’t cheating.”

“It is when you seek to wheedle my strategyfrom me under the guise of learning from my greaterexperience.”

She blushed. She hadn’t realized he sawthrough that so easily. Though it had worked.… Several times.

“I should be flogged, no doubt,” Amaranthesaid.

A rare gleam of humor entered his eyes.“Perhaps.”

Amaranthe counted doors until they reachedthe flat she had been observing, the one she hoped belonged toRaydevk and his wife. The building could very well house otherfamilies with two young sons.

She pressed an ear against the door beforeknocking; she did not wish to interrupt a second round oflovemaking. Voices murmured, male and female, the words too low tomake out. They did not sound ardor-filled.

She knocked. Out of habit, she straightenedher uniform and patted down her bun. Looking the part of aprofessional enforcer might no longer be a requirement, but sometics failed to die.

The door opened, and a moon-faced womanleaned into the gap. When she spotted the uniforms, her eyesbulged. Even a rookie could have interpreted the guiltywe’re-caught expression.

Amaranthe stuck her foot into the gap, lestthe woman’s first instinct be to slam the door shut and lock it.The woman stepped back, but bumped against one of the piles offurniture, boxes, and clutter that were used to delineate separatespaces in the single room.

“Peaceful evening,” Amaranthe greeted. “I’mCorporal Lokdon.” The name was sewn on her name tag, so she darednot change it, but she said it quickly on the chance the woman readthe newspapers. Amaranthe nodded to Sicarius. “And this is CorporalJev.” Or so his uniform said. “We have a few questions for yourhusband, ma’am.”

“Who is it, Pella?” a man, presumablyRaydevk, asked. “One of the boys? They weren’t supposed to comeuntil nine.” He snickered. “Or is it old Ms. Derya complaining thatthe fire escape isn’t a suitable place for sex play? Again.”

Since the woman-Pella-seemed stunned withindecision, Amaranthe pushed the door open. The smirk on theminer’s face dropped. He held a book-a journal? — in his hands, andhe hid it behind his back. Yes, the guilt hung in the air like smogaround a factory. Though that meant it was probably good that shehad come, it also made her fairly certain these weren’t themasterminds behind…anything.

“Mister Raydevk?” Amaranthe asked. “We have afew questions for you.”

“I’ve done nothing illegal,” he said.

“Good.” She smiled. “Then we’ll be able tofinish quickly.”

“Uh, right.” Raydevk eyed several of thecabinets and clothing-draped stacks. Seeking somewhere to stash hisjournal?

“Mind if we come in?” Amaranthe asked.

Sicarius invited himself in, slipping pastAmaranthe to stand inside the doorway. Pella stepped, no, stumbledbackward. Hm, Amaranthe might find Sicarius’s appearance heroic inthe uniform, but he still intimidated others. The cold unwaveringstare perhaps.

“Thanks,” Amaranthe said brightly. Shestrolled in and displayed her warrant oh-so briefly to Pella.“Corporal Jev has orders to search the premises. I hope this won’tinconvenience you terribly.”

“Search?” Raydevk’s voice squeaked. “Whatfor?” His eyes darted about in his head, searching again. Stilltrying to get rid of that journal? He focused on a credenza in acorner by a cook stove. “Can I get you a drink?”

“No, thanks,” Amaranthe said.

Regardless, he darted for the credenza,opened a door, and withdrew glasses and a bottle of applejack.“I’ll just have a taste, if you don’t mind.”

Loosening one’s tongue was not a particularlygood idea for a liar-a possibly criminal liar-faced with enforcers,but Amaranthe saw no reason to object. Raydevk met his wife’s eyes,widening his own in some signal.

“Why are you folks here?” Pella asked.

“A group of miners has been implicated in aconspiracy against the athletes at the Imperial Games,” Amaranthesaid, trying to surprise reactions out of Pella and Raydevk. Shedid not truly expect these people to have much-if anything-to dowith the kidnappings, but one never knew. “The missing athletes, tobe precise.”

Pella glanced at her husband and rushed tosay, “We don’t know anything about that.”

Raydevk had his back to everyone, ostensiblypreparing a drink, but he froze at Amaranthe’s words. He jerked hishead at Pella and she burbled on, giving some story about the menwinning time off at a company lottery and simply going to the Gamesto relax.

Amaranthe barely listened. She was watchingRaydevk. Still fiddling with his drink, he tried to hide hisactions as he set the journal on the credenza and opened it. Hecoughed to cover the noise he made ripping the top sheet off. Heused the movement of returning the bottle to a shelf to slip thatpage into his pocket.

“Corporal Jev,” Amaranthe said. She trustedSicarius had seen the inept legerdemain and hoped he interpretedher head tilt as would-you-be-so-kind-as-to-retrieve-that-for-me.“Begin the search.”

Sicarius gave her a hard look, no doubtwondering why they were dickering around instead of simply takingwhat they needed. She flicked her fingers, hoping he would playalong a little while longer. These people were not experiencedcriminals, and they would likely give her everything they knewwithout the need for force.

“You’re not going to disturb the children,are you?” Pella asked.

Amaranthe had forgotten they were sleepingbehind one of the walls of clutter. She trusted Sicarius with herlife, and she resented that doubt curled into her at the idea ofsending him in to deal with a couple of kids on his own, but whathe had shared of his history did not lead her to believe he wouldbe good with them. Granted, the order to dump decapitated heads onthe floor with five-year-old Sespian watching had been EmperorRaumesys’s command, but still.

“We’ll check them last,” Amaranthe said.Together. She hoped Sicarius did not read the reason for herhesitation in her words. She trusted him. She did. She just figuredthat even at his most innocuous, he would scare children.

“Mister Raydevk, where do you work? BlackPeak?” she asked while Sicarius went through shelves and drawers inthe room.

“Yes.” He took a swig of applejack, though hehad appeared more relaxed before the alcohol touched his lips.

Yes, Amaranthe definitely wanted that paper.“Then it’ll be easy enough to check up on this story about alottery and winners.”

Raydevk froze again, the amber liquid to hislips. He recovered and shrugged. “I imagine so.”

Pella scraped her fingers through her hairand chewed on her lip.

“You and other miners have been seen at theImperial Games a number of days this week,” Amaranthe said. “Careto explain what you’re doing there?”

“Just watching the athletes and enjoying mytime off.”

Amaranthe decided to try talking aboutherself instead of asking questions. It might put the man at easeand make him more likely to slip with his comments. “It’s fortunateyou got that much time off. My father was a miner. He neverreceived more than a couple of days off in a month.” Though he hadonce come all the way into the city to watch Amaranthe’s race eventhough he had to get right back on a train to make it to work thenext morning.

“He die young, did he?” Pella asked.

“Yes,” Amaranthe said. “It’s a hard life, Iknow.”

“Got that right,” Raydevk said.

“Can’t blame people for wanting to bettertheir lot,” Pella said.

“Is that what you’re doing at the Games?”Amaranthe asked.

“I told you,” Raydevk said, quick to speakover Pella, Amaranthe sensed, “I’m just down there to enjoy my timeoff.”

“I’d think you’d want to spend more of thattime with your family.”

“Don’t you judge me.” Raydevk scowled andpointed a finger at her face. “I take care of my family realgood.”

“I’m sure you do,” Amaranthe said.

“Then what exactly are you accusing meof?”

Sicarius paused at the curtain leading to thechildren’s sleeping area. His ear was cocked. Had he heardsomething?

“The boys are sleeping in there,” Pella said.“No reason to go in.”

Amaranthe could not tell if she was hidingsomething, or simply did not want enforcers scaring herchildren.

Sicarius pushed the curtain aside. A five- orsix-year-old boy stumbled out and collapsed at his feet. Someonelistening at the “door,” apparently. Eyes round, the boy stared upat Sicarius.

“Are they here?” a young voice queried fromthe darkened sleeping area. Soft thumps sounded-bare feet runningacross a thin carpet. “Ma, you said we could come say, ‘Hello,’when Uncle Drovar came.” A boy younger than the first charged outof the room as he spoke, and he would have crashed into Sicarius’sleg, but Sicarius lifted his foot, removing the obstacle.

When the boys realized they had strangevisitors, in intimidating uniforms no less, they grew quiet andslunk over to their mother. She lifted a finger, as if she mightsend them right back to bed, but Sicarius slipped into the vacatedarea. A light came to life. A good time to search, but Amaranthewished he would get her that note first. He would be a smootherpickpocket than she.

“Mister Raydevk,” Amaranthe said, “you’re notaccused of anything yet, but it’s clear you’re not telling thetruth. If you don’t answer my questions honestly, we’ll beauthorized to take you to the magistrate for further questioning.Are you sure you don’t know anything about the missingathletes?”

“I don’t know anything.”

The older of the two boys left his mother’sside to peer into the sleeping area.

“If you did know something,” Amaranthetold Raydevk, “and it led to the arrest of those who spawned theplot, it’s possible we could work a deal where your punishment waswaived.”

Raydevk hesitated, but only for a second. Hespread his arms wide. “What would a miner have to do withkidnappings?”

“I only said athletes were missing, not thatthey were kidnapped,” Amaranthe said. “How do you know someone istaking them?”

“Er, I don’t. I mean, the newspapers saidthat, didn’t they?”

“No.”

“Just a guess, then,” Raydevk muttered.

The boy peering into the sleeping area leanedin further. “What are you doing, mister?”

His mother stepped around the younger one andstretched out a hand to grab him, but the boy slipped inside.

“Do you want to see my models? I have animperial warship, the first steam ferry, and Da’s friend made me areplica of the city’s ice breaking ship.”

Amaranthe figured Sicarius would ignore thequestions, but he was pragmatic to the point where he probablywouldn’t think twice about tying the boy up to keep him out of theway. She stepped toward the curtain to make sure nothing like thathappened, but knocks at the door made her pause.

Raydevk cursed under his breath. His wifewinced.

“Problem?” Amaranthe asked.

“No,” Raydevk said. “Wrong address.”

Nobody said anything for a moment, but thenthe knocks came again-multiple fists striking the wood. “Ray,what’s the hold up? You two entertaining the neighborhood from thefire escape again?”

The wife’s face flushed red, and even theminer had the sense to appear mortified.

“Why don’t you let that wrong address in?”Amaranthe asked. “Maybe they know something about the missingathletes.”

“Come on, Ray, we have to go. Meeting startsin ten minutes.”

“Meeting?” Amaranthe smiled even as Raydevkcursed. She supposed she should not feel pleasure at watchingsomeone’s lies falling apart, but fate usually tormented her, so itwas nice seeing someone else have trouble.

“I…uh…I’ll just answer that,” Raydevksaid.

He backed toward the door, watching her as hewent, and she sensed he meant to try something. He wore no weapons,but he might have one stashed in the flat. A small table with adrawer leaned against the wall near the door. Amaranthe easedbehind the sofa, figuring she could duck for cover if need be.

Raydevk reached for the doorknob, though, notthe drawer. “You gentlemen will have to come back another time,” hesaid loudly without taking his eyes from Amaranthe. “There’s anenforcer lady here who’s talking to me about-” He flung the dooropen and darted into the hall. “Run!”

Surprised, Amaranthe did not reactimmediately. The coward had left his wife to deal with theenforcers while he ran off with the boys? The wife gaped at theopen door, as startled as Amaranthe. All the men had taken off, andfootsteps thundered in the stairwell at the end of the hallway.

“Si-Corporal Jev,” Amaranthe called.

Sicarius strode out.

“I need you to follow that…” The grinningboy riding Sicarius’s leg and clutching a toy boat made her pause.Well, Sicarius hadn’t tied the child up. That was good. “Our minersare off to a secret meeting. If you could extricate yourself, I’dappreciate it if you’d find out who they’re meeting and where.”

Without a word, Sicarius unwound the boy fromhis leg, deposited him on the sofa, brushed past Amaranthe, andslipped out the window. He vaulted over the fire escape railwithout bothering with the ladder.

“How come that man can’t talk?” the boyasked.

“He can talk. He’s just not the chatty type.”Amaranthe eased around the sofa toward the door. She doubted Pellawould run off and leave her children behind, but there was no needto tempt her. As she was shutting the door, her hand brushed herpocket, and something inside crinkled. She slipped her fingers inand slid a piece of paper out-the note Raydevk had stashed. WhenSicarius had been close enough to him to retrieve it, she did notknow, but she itched to unfold it and read it.

“My brother isn’t chatty either,” the boysaid.

Conscious of the mother’s gaze upon her,Amaranthe slid the note back into her pocket. She would check itlater.

“He liked my boat,” the boy added.

Amaranthe wondered how that deduction hadbeen made if Sicarius hadn’t said anything. “I’m sure he did. It’svery nice.”

“Marl, Denny, go back to bed,” Pellasaid.

Marl, huh? Amaranthe wondered if Books wouldbe flattered to know a boat-loving toddler shared his name.

“Where did Da go?”

Pella dragged her hands through her hair. “Idon’t know. Just go to bed, please.” She shoved them toward thecurtain and sank down in a chair.

Amaranthe thought that “I don’t know” soundedauthentic, but she perched on the sofa across from the woman,intending to find as many answers as she could. “Ma’am, mindanswering a few questions?”

“Do I have a choice?” Her bleak smile held nohumor.

“Not really, no.” Though she had a goodmemory, Amaranthe withdrew a notepad and a pen. It might help herappear official. “Do you know what he’s involved with? He’s notresponsible for kidnapping athletes, is he?”

“No, no, he wouldn’t do that. I don’t evenknow why…” Pella shrugged. “I’m not sure what he’s up to.”

“It’s strange that he’s home for the week,isn’t it?”

“Yes, he never gets this much time off.He…I shouldn’t be betraying his trust to you, should I? A goodwife is supposed to keep the books and her husband’s secrets.”

“You do know,” Amaranthe said, “that the lawno longer requires a woman to go to jail with her husband if he’sconvicted of a crime, right? Unless she’s found to be anaccomplice….”

“I’m no accomplice! He shows up here, takesall our savings, and promises me it’s for the greater good. That wewon’t have to worry about anything in the future. That it’s worthliving in poverty today if we can live like emperors tomorrow. Idon’t know what I’m supposed to make of that. He won’t tell memore. Just says not to worry about it. I’ll have to work for ourreward, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”

“You’ll have to work for it?” Amaranthetapped her pen against the notepad. That did not sound like agambling scheme. Unless Raydevk meant his wife would have to work,taking care of kidnapped prisoners. But, no, she did not know aboutthem, and some had been missing for days, so she would have beenrecruited by now if that were her task.

“That’s what he said.”

Amaranthe leaned back. A broken springbeneath the sofa cushion prodded her in the butt. Though she fearedshe would get little more information, she spent another fifteenminutes questioning Pella.

“I’m not going to jail, right?” Pella askedwhen she walked Amaranthe to the door at the end. “Whatever he’sgotten tangled up with, it wasn’t my idea. I’m a good, loyalcitizen. I swear it. And my boys are, too. They need me.”

A guilty twinge coursed throughAmaranthe-this woman had doubtlessly committed fewer crimes thanshe had. She forced a smile and gripped Pella’s shoulder.“If what you say is true, you’ve nothing to worry about from theenforcers.”

Her husband was another matter.

The building’s parlor remained empty, soAmaranthe stopped beneath a light to check the note.

Two columns of names were written in sloppy,barely legible handwriting that an imperial code-breaker would havestruggled to decipher. She recognized three out of the five, andone of them was Sicarius.

A chill ran through her. Had Raydevk knownwho Sicarius was all the time? He hadn’t shown any signs ofrecognition when Sicarius stepped through the door. And Raydevkhadn’t been that great at hiding any of his other thoughts. Surely,he would have given something away.

Sicarius’s name was at the top of theleft-hand column, one with three entries in it. Deercrest, themissing wrestler, came under him, and Amaranthe did not recognizethe third. The top name on the second column belonged to Fasha’ssister Keisha. The other two looked like Borsk and Allemah.Maybe.

Amaranthe pocketed the note again and steppedoutside. She debated whether to wait on the sidewalk in front ofthe building, return to the hideout, or go back up to Pella and seewhat her reaction would be to the name, “Sicarius.” Her gutsquirmed, knowing she had sent him off to spy on people whoapparently wanted him for some nefarious reason.

She headed back into the building, adjustingthe stiff collar of her enforcer uniform as she climbed the stairsagain. It was scratching her neck more than she remembered-maybethe fabric was reminding her she no longer had any right to wearit.

When she reached the flat and lifted her handto knock, the door stood ajar. Strange. She would have thoughtPella would lock everything up and put the children to bed afterthe incident.

Amaranthe pushed the door open. Darknessshrouded the room, but she sensed what she would find even beforeshe brought in a lantern and searched. Pella and the children weregone.