Deadly Games

CHAPTER 9

Amaranthe examined the map under the softlight of one of the gas lamps lining the city block around PyramidPark. She had a lantern along as well, since the boneyard was blackat night, but this provided better illumination.

Books leaned over her shoulder, also studyingthe map, while Akstyr humored Maldynado in a game with the catchytitle of “You Pick a Letter and I’ll Say a Woman I’ve Slept withWhose Name Beings with That Letter.”

“Z?” Maldynado asked. “That’s easy. Zevinikaand Zela.”

“This isn’t any fun. You could be makingthese people up,” Akstyr said.

“Well, traditionally two people alternatenames of women they’ve slept with, and the name one person says hasto start with the last letter of the name the other personsaid.”

“How is that more fun?”

“It’d be more fun for you because youcould reminisce on past loves as well,” Maldynado said, “but sinceI know you’ve a dearth of experience in that area, I chose tomodify the game so you could play.”

“Real thoughtful of you.”

“I know. You’re welcome.”

Attempting to block out their chatter,Amaranthe pointed at the seven fountains circled on the map. “Theseare the closest to the miner’s flat,” she told Books. “Since theysaid they were meeting at the fountain instead of the Fourthand Loom Street Fountain or some such, that seems to imply it was anearby location they were all familiar with. What do youthink?”

“I think we may want to focus on the railtracks instead.” He tapped the hatched line on the map. “Thatlocomotive headed into town, but, given its clandestine purpose, Idoubt it ever made it to the station where its arrival would havebeen logged. There are a limited number of stubs it could haveturned up before then. A hideout might be located along one ofthose routes, as kidnappers wouldn’t want to carry famous athletesthrough the open city for far.”

“True, but they could have transferred theircargo to a steam carriage.”

“If they did, they might have left evidencebehind, or someone might have seen them,” Books said. “There areonly six possible stubs before the station and only two near thefountains you circled.”

Amaranthe would not get her hopes up, but shesaid, “It’s worth checking out.”

“Since these are residential neighborhoods,there are limited places where one could store a number ofkidnapped athletes,” Books went on. “I doubt anyone would choose aflat surrounded by nosy residents, so we can narrow our search toabandoned buildings or perhaps those with large basements withexterior entrances. If we split our team up, we could check thebuildings along both of these stubs tonight.”

“Agreed,” Amaranthe said, “though I hate theidea of splitting up when we’re already missing two people. I don’twant to lose anyone else.”

“I’m surprised nobody’s tried to kidnap me,”Maldynado said. “I’m at least as good of a find as Basilard andSicarius. It’s obvious these kidnappers aren’t basing their choiceson looks.”

“We believe they’re basing their acquisitionson athletic prowess,” Books said.

“I have that, too. I should have entered anevent, so I could get noticed.”

“Are you actually jealous that you weren’tkidnapped?” Amaranthe asked.

“Not jealous. I just think they’reshortsighted if they didn’t consider me.”

“Why would you care?” Akstyr asked. “They’reprobably getting tortured and forced to do unpleasant stuff.”

Amaranthe winced. She did not need to hearabout those possibilities, not for her men. Her friends.

“I would have entered if not for the bountyon my head,” Maldynado said.

“It’s not like anyone ever tries to collectyour bounty,” Akstyr said. “It’s not worth it.”

“That’s not true. Just the other day abounty-hunting miscreant tried to apprehend me. I was lucky toescape with my life.”

“Is that the child I saw chasing you throughthe boneyard with a slingshot?” Amaranthe asked.

“What? No! Er. You saw that?”

Amaranthe drew her pocket watch. “A quarterpast ten. If Lord Mancrest doesn’t show up in five minutes, we’regoing rail-carriage hunting.”

“It’s that late?” Maldynado asked. “That’snot like him.”

Amaranthe picked up her lantern and headedfor the gated entrance to the pyramid. It was set into a wallaround the corner from the steep stone stairs leading to theancient dais. The gate ought to be locked-the woman who owned theproperty ran tours during the day and presumably wanted to keep thetacky souvenir merchandise inside safe-but maybe someone had leftthe door open and Mancrest had gone in to wait. It seemed unlikely,but it did not hurt to check.

“What’s that?” Maldynado asked.

Amaranthe squinted at a shape on the groundunder the gate. She stepped closer, holding her lantern aloft. Atfirst she had no idea what the object might be because it wassquished beneath the metal frame. Then recognition jolted her.

“Mancrest’s hat,” she said.

Maldynado grabbed a metal handle, turned it,and swung the gate open with a soft creak. A stone tunnel led awayinto darkness.

“Think someone snatched him?” Akstyrasked.

“Our kidnappers?” Books scratched his jaw.“How would they know he was here? And why would they want him?Mancrest, with his cane and spectacles, doesn’t fit into the samecategory as the superb athletes they’ve abducted thus far.”

“He was a decent duelist before he got hurt,”Maldynado said.

“We going in after him?” Akstyr asked, histone suggesting the idea held no appeal for him.

“Amaranthe?” Books asked. “What do youthink?”

She was standing, head down, chin in her handas she considered the hat. “I think…if Sicarius were here, he’dsay this is a trap.”

“Set by Mancrest?” Books asked. “Or thekidnappers?”

“Do we believe there’s any connection betweenMancrest and the kidnappers?” Amaranthe did not. “He hasn’t coveredthem in the newspaper, other than to say some people are missing.I’m skeptical they’d be aware of him.”

Maldynado picked up the hat. “If that bastardtried to get me to set you up again, I’ll…” He squinted atsomething inside the hat, then held it close to Amaranthe’slantern. “That looks like blood.”

Amaranthe closed her eyes, trying to decidewhether she wanted to devote more time to Mancrest when hercomrades were missing. If he was in trouble, rescuing himmight endear him to her, but she found the location of the hatsuspicious. It couldn’t have been better placed if someone wantedher to find it.

“Books,” she said, moving away from the gate,“do you know another way in?”

“Hm, I believe so.” Books stroked his chin.“I researched the pyramid extensively when I wrote a paper on thecivilization that lived around the lake two thousand years ago.They were a fascinating people, primitive and cannibalistic, butsurprisingly advanced insofar as literacy and mathematics. Theyworshiped a-”

“Books,” Amaranthe said. “I’d like to havetime to look for Sicarius and Basilard tonight. The entrances?”

“Ah, of course. There’s an undergroundentrance coming up from the ancient tunnels beneath Stumps, but theinstallation of the city sewer system destroyed a lot of thosepassages. Oh, wait. I recall a reference to a trapdoor under thedais up top.”

Amaranthe nodded, remembering how Sicariushad appeared up there without using the stairs. She had wondered ifthere might be a door up there somewhere.

“And it connects with this tunnel?” Shepointed through the gate.

“I believe so. The passages do wind around inthere, and I can’t promise to be an unerring guide, but I have somememory of the layout from the maps in the texts I… Where are yougoing?”

Already heading for the stairs, Amaranthewaved toward the top of the pyramid. “Up. You can keep talking onthe way if you want.”

“But it’s not a requirement,” Maldynado said,jogging after her.

Books muttered something to Akstyr about hisknowledge not being fully appreciated. Akstyr responded with hisusual, “Whatever.”

When Amaranthe reached the top, she huntedaround for signs of the trapdoor. Sicarius, she remembered, hadappeared behind her when she had been near the stairs, lookingdown. She knelt and prodded around the base of the altar, whichstill sported the headless statue with its two wings, clawed feet,and furry torso.

“Did your studies tell you how to open thistrapdoor?” Amaranthe asked Books.

“Not that I recall,” he said.

“You can recite the dates of each reign ofevery emperor since Dorok the First,” Maldynado said. “Why can’tyou remember something useful like this?”

“Historical tomes rarely advise people on howto break into ancient structures through unguarded entrances,”Books said. “I believe they like to discourage the pillaging ofgoods inside.”

“We’re not pillaging anything,” Maldynadosaid.

“Unless there’s something good to pillage,”Akstyr said. “Is there?”

“Not that I’d tell you about,” Bookssaid.

Amaranthe groped about the stone floor. Thelantern light did little to illuminate the subtle nuances in theancient blocks, but her fingers found dents and divots. She poked afew and nothing happened. She moved to the two rear columnssupporting the roof covering the altar.

Her knee clunked against a bump, and shewinced. She investigated the object, a slightly elevated triangularstone. She-and her knee-found it suspicious that it stuck out whennothing else did. Amaranthe tried pulling and pushing it. Neitherworked. Maybe a turn? She rotated it to the left, as if she wereunscrewing a lid on a jar.

The floor disappeared beneath her.

Amaranthe dropped into darkness with astartled squawk. Though surprised, she twisted in the air, movingquickly enough to get her feet beneath her. The landing jarred her,but she softened her knees enough that she did not injureherself.

Unfortunately, her lantern did not survivethe fall unscathed. It had gone out as it dropped, and clanks andclatters echoed from the stone walls as it bounced several times,then rolled to a stop in the darkness. Close, dusty air wrappedabout Amaranthe, intruding upon her nostrils. It smelled likevermin had died nearby. Maybe other things as well.

“Amaranthe?” Books called from above. “Areyou…well?”

She had their only lantern-well, the darknesshad it at the moment-but she could make out the men’s silhouettesas they leaned over a three-by-three-foot hole in the ceiling. Sheopened her mouth to respond, but a sneeze assailed her nostrilsinstead.

“Is that a yes?” Books asked.

“Yes. Looks like I found the trapdoor.”

“Looks like,” Maldynado drawled.

“We can’t see anything,” Books said, leaningforward and patting around the trapdoor entrance. “How far down areyou? Is there a ladder?”

“Maybe ten or twelve feet, and I don’t know.I’ll see if I can relight the lantern. After I find it.”

Amaranthe knelt and swept her hands acrosscold, smooth stone. Cool air whispered past her cheeks. Aboveground, it had been a warm summer evening, but down here, sheshivered in her thin trousers and half-sleeve shirt.

It took a few moments to find the first wall,and she determined she was in a room, not a corridor. Some sort ofpreparation area for priests performing ceremonies on the altarabove?

She found the lantern. A soft thump came frombehind her.

“Who-” she started to ask.

“Me,” Maldynado said. “Can’t let a girlwander around a dark pit by herself.”

“You can if you don’t know if there’s a wayout,” Akstyr said. He and Books waited above.

“Want us to go grab some lanterns?” Booksasked.

“Let me see if I can get this one relitfirst.” Amaranthe patted her pockets down. “I have matches.”Somewhere.

“Is one lantern sufficient lighting forpyramid spelunking?” Books asked, his tone implying he hardlythought so.

“It’s a long jog to the boneyard and back.”Amaranthe struck a match and lit the lantern. “And I think youshould join us since you’re the pyramid expert. Akstyr can stay outthere in case we…” Got themselves hopelessly lost or trapped bythe enemy? No, she shouldn’t say that. Too demoralizing. “Needbackup,” she finished.

The lantern light revealed a chamber filledwith cobwebs and layers of dust that made her long for the giantsteam-powered cleaning machines she had described to the thieves inthe tenement building. Rows of niches on the walls had long sincebeen emptied of their contents, though cobwebs cloaked them likecocoons, and one could almost imagine this place still held ancienttreasures.

“Not very likely when we’re in the middle ofa city with a population of a million,” Amaranthe told herself.

“That’s why I came down,” Maldynado said.

“To treasure hunt?”

“No, to keep you from talking to yourself.That’s a sign of a lonely, disturbed mind.” He drew his rapier andswiped at a cobweb curtain dangling above a narrow, low-ceilingedstairwell leading down. “This way, you can pretend you’re talkingto me.”

“Oh, good.” She turned her head toward thetrapdoor again. “Books, are you coming? We need your insight.”

“Since I so rarely hear those words, I’d bestjoin you.”

“We’d crave your insight more if you gave usless of it,” Maldynado told him. “They say scarcity createsdesire.”

“I’m heading down,” Amaranthe said. The mencould snipe at each other all night if she let them.

She drew her short sword, but waited forBooks to shimmy over the side of the hole, dangle from the lip fora moment, then drop down. He landed in an easy crouch. She smiled.He might not realize it, but Sicarius’s training had brought Booksa long way in the last six months. Whether one had naturalaptitude or not, constant repetition and an unrelenting taskmasterdid tend to encourage improvement.

A couple of steps down the stairs convincedAmaranthe to return her sword to its sheath. The narrowness andsteepness made her want to brace herself on the wall as shedescended, and the lantern seemed the more important thing to holdaloft. Blackness swallowed the bottom of the stairs, but sheimagined the fall could be long and far should she lose herbalance.

“What kind of tiny-footed people built thisplace?” Maldynado asked after a bout of cursing when one of hisboots slipped.

“Actually,” Books said, “it’s quitefascinating. The Pey’uhara, the first lake dwellers, were-”

“No, no, never mind,” Maldynado blurted. “Ididn’t mean it. I don’t want to know.”

“It’s a shame you prefer to wallow in a mireof ignorance when knowledge floats by within reach,” Bookssaid.

“Isn’t it?”

“Let’s practice our stealth mode,” Amaranthesaid. “In case there are kidnappers or trap-settersabout.”

The men mumbled sheepish apologies and fellquiet.

Silence surrounded them, stirred only by thesoft padding of their feet and their own breaths. One could forgeta modern city lay less than a block away.

The soft flame of the lantern revealed ashort landing below with three options. To the right and the left,more stairs descended. If they continued straight ahead, they wouldenter a narrow corridor. A low stone ceiling promised much duckingfor Maldynado and Books should she choose that route.

Amaranthe stopped on the landing. “Have wegone far enough to be at ground level?”

“I don’t think so,” Books said.

He touched cryptic hieroglyphs carved intothe wall. One looked like a dog mounting another dog, but shesupposed that was her imagination. Nothing so crude would berepresented in two-thousand-year-old glyphs.

“Also the tunnels at the floor level arewider and easier to navigate. I believe that corridor leads to theGraveyard of the Fallen Enemies.” Books lifted a finger, perhapswanting to explain the place more thoroughly, but he glanced atMaldynado and said no more.

“Doesn’t sound like a place we need tovisit,” Amaranthe said.

“Is that a dog humping another dog?”Maldynado to pointed the hieroglyph she had noticed. Leave it tohim to have a mind at least as crude as hers.

“Actually, yes,” Books said. “It’s a sign ofdominance. These people were letting everyone know they haddominated and vanquished their fallen enemies.”

“Dominance, eh?” Maldynado said. “If you sayso.”

“Left or right?” Amaranthe asked. “Anythoughts?”

“Not from me,” Books said.

“There’s an uncommon event,” Maldynadosaid.

Amaranthe lifted the lantern and examinedboth stairwells. The right held fewer cobwebs, and soft gouges andstirrings on the dusty steps might be footprints. “It looks likethat way has seen traffic more recently.”

When no one disagreed, she led the waydownward again. The stairs did not descend far before they reacheda T-section with wide corridors.

A faint rustle came to Amaranthe’s ears. Herimagination? She dimmed the lantern in case it was not.

The blackness to the left seemed lessabsolute than the blackness to the right.

Nothing on the smooth granite floor would bean obstacle for their feet if they moved forward in darkness, soAmaranthe signaled to her men with a finger to her lips, pointed,and dimmed the lantern the rest of the way.

Darkness swallowed them. She waited for hereyes to adjust to the gloom. There was not enough light for her tosee anything except that it was less dark in one direction than theother, but that would have to be enough.

A hand reached out and found her shoulder.Maldynado’s, she guessed, because he had a tendency to be lesstentative than Books when touching people, especially femalepeople. She hoped Books had a hand on Maldynado’s shoulder as well.She did not want to lose anyone down here.

With one hand on the wall, she felt her waydown the corridor. She found an edge-a corner. The light increasedwhen she turned down the new passage, though she could not see itssource.

“…longer?” a male voice asked ahead.

Amaranthe halted. The grip on her shouldertightened in warning.

She turned an ear toward the passage, butwhatever response the question garnered was too quiet for her tohear. She tried to decide if that had been Mancrest’s voice. It hadnot sounded familiar, but it was hard to judge anything from oneword.

“Want me to check it out?” Maldynadowhispered in her ear.

“No,” she whispered back. Basilard would bethe first to tell Maldynado he was not the stealthiest man on theirteam. She pressed the lantern into Maldynado’s hand. “I’ll go. Stayhere. Fetch me if I get myself in trouble.”

His snort was soft, but audible. She pattedhim on the chest, then eased her short sword free and continueddown the passage. Toe before heel, she walked, making sure therewas nothing on the floor that might crunch or be kicked beforecommitting to each step.

Cobwebs brushed at her face, and she stifledan urge to sneeze again. It was hard to sneak up on someone whiledischarging dust from one’s nostrils.

As Amaranthe walked, she let her fingersgraze the wall, and she twitched in surprise when they found a gap,then bumped against metal. She slid her hand up and down it. A bar.One of many. Some kind of gate?

She continued on, passing several of the widegates, and finally reached a corner with the warm yellow of lanternlight glowing beyond it. Trusting the darkness to hide her,Amaranthe eased her head around the edge. The illumination, severallanterns’ worth, came from inside an open gate. From her angle, shecould not see inside, but impatient mutters and shuffles came fromthe cell beyond.

The snippet of conversation she had caughtimplied there were at least two people waiting in there, but thenoises suggested more. Four or six maybe.

She eased around the corner and tiptoedcloser. Stacks of boxes came into view first, the closest stampedwith the words “souvenir hats.” Ah, the gates represented shopfronts. She must be nearing the main pyramid entrance.

Another step took her close enough to seepast the boxes and into the room. A man in black soldier’s fatiguesleaned against the wall, his elbow propped on the muzzle of arifle.

“Maybe we should turn out the lanterns,”someone opposite of him said.

“We’re three turns from Mancrest,” someoneelse said. “She won’t see the light.”

“Until it’s too late.”

Soft snickers followed that oh-so-wittyline.

“Unless Sicarius is with her.”

That stopped the snickers. A nervousshuffling followed.

“Word from the enforcers is that somebody’sgot him.”

Amaranthe curled her fingers into a fist. Howhad the enforcers found out? Did they know something shedidn’t?

“I’ll believe that when his head is on a pikein Mariner Square,” the man in view said.

Clothing rustled-a shrug? “I heard theenforcers were told to send word to the emperor to get the bountymoney together, because his dead body would be delivered after theImperial Games.”

It was just talk, Amaranthe told herself.Rumors.

“Enough chatter,” an unseen man said. “Thisis an ambush, not barracks cleaning day. Nobody’s paying you totrot your lips.”

The soldier Amaranthe could see sighed andturned his eyes toward the corridor. She stopped breathing. Ifenough lantern light seeped out of the room for him to seeher…

He frowned and squinted in her direction.

Amaranthe slipped a hand into her pocket. Herfingers found curved glass.

The soldier took a step her way.

Before she could debate the wisdom of themove, or the danger to herself, Amaranthe held her breath, thumbedthe cork off, and tossed the vial through the metal bars. Itskidded beneath the soldier’s feet, and he jumped.

She scurried back, not sure what the rangewas on the powder, or if it would even do anything without somesort of magical preparation.

The soldier charged into the corridor.

Amaranthe spun and ran. The darkness aheadkept her from sprinting, but she hoped she remembered the layoutbetter than the soldier.

Only her outstretched hand kept her fromsmashing her face into the wall at the first turn. So much formemory.

Heavy footfalls followed her, but it soundedlike only one or two pairs of boots, not the entire squad ofsoldiers. If only a couple of the men chased her, she and her teamought to be able to take care of them. They could separate-

“Oomph,” she grunted, hitting anotherwall.

Left turn this time. One more corner, and sheshould run into Maldynado and Books.

Before she finished the thought, she ran intoanother obstacle. Not stone this time, clothing and flesh.

“Boss?” Maldynado whispered.

“Yes, sh.”

The clomping footfalls of a soldier rang outas the man rounded the corner. Amaranthe turned to face him.

In the darkness, she could see nothing. Therhythm of the soldier’s run faltered and slowed. He must sense hewas close, or maybe it was something else. The powder? His stepswere heavy, almost labored. He made no attempt to stifle the soundof his advance.

The gait slowed and grew uneven. Amaranthebent her knees, sword ready. A loud thud came from ahead, no morethan a pace away. Something clattered to the floor.

Silence fell.

A flame flared to life. Maldynado held thelantern high, illuminating the dust-and-cobweb-cloaked tunnel-andthe unmoving soldier at their feet, his rifle a foot away from hisoutstretched hand.

“Huh,” Maldynado said.

“You killed him?” Books stared at her.

“No, at least I don’t think so. I threw thatvial you took from the towel boy into their room.” She knelt down,intending to check his pulse, but a soft snore rumbled from theman’s lips.

“Ah,” Books said.

Amaranthe took the soldier’s rifle, thenpatted him down. She found keys on a clip at his belt and removedthem. “Anybody have rope we can use to tie him up?”

“Not me,” Maldynado said.

Books spread his open hands. No rope. Hm.

“I need to come better prepared for thesemeetings with men,” Amaranthe said.

“Yes,” Maldynado said, “you never know whenrope will come in handy on a date. Lots of reasons to tie peopleup.”

Amaranthe chose not to contemplate hisstatement. She pointed to the soldier. “See if you can use his beltand pants or something, and then follow me. There are more men. I’mhoping they’re sleeping, too.”

Not sure how long the powder might last,Amaranthe jogged back down the corridor toward the cell. She didnot know the dissemination range either. That thought made her slowdown. Would it still be active, or did it wear off shortly afterrelease? She would feel idiotic if she ran in to check on thesoldiers and passed out on top of some man’s chest.

She thought about waiting for Maldynado andBooks to catch up, but maybe it was best to go in alone. If she didpass out, maybe they would realize it and avoid the mistake. Orthey’d collapse on top of her on top of the soldier.

“Over-thinking things,” she muttered, thoughshe dug a kerchief out of her pocket and wrapped it about her noseand mouth before continuing.

She peered through the gate and counted fivesoldiers sprawled on the floor amongst overturned boxes and tippedlanterns. A couple had taken steps toward the exit, but most hadcollapsed where they stood. The vial, now cracked, gleamed where ithad come to rest against the wall. The powder had disappeared,turned to smoke and vanished.

Amaranthe decided not to risk getting closeenough to investigate further. She checked the keys she had takenfrom the soldier. A fob read Polga’s Pyramid Tours.

“Let’s hope Polga has the power to lock andunlock the gates,” she said.

“Talking to yourself again?” Maldynado askedas he and Books strode around the corner.

“No.” Amaranthe tried one of the keys in thelock. “I knew you’d be here to hear me.”

“The other soldier is sufficiently trussedup,” Books said.

“Albeit, he’ll find it a bit drafty in herewithout his pants,” Maldynado said.

“They’re the only thing that could be used totie his ankles together and bind them to his wrists,” Bookssaid.

“I’m not judging you,” Maldynado said. “That,given the opportunity, your first thought was to strip a handsome,young soldier of his pants doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re odious.”

“They were setting up an ambush,” Amaranthesaid. “Perhaps we should stop talking until we’ve subdued thebait.”

The fourth key she tried turned in the lock.Good. She closed the gate and secured the soldiers inside.

“Do we believe the bait is Mancrest?” Bookswhispered.

“We’ll see.”

She debated whether to continue forward withthe lantern dimmed, but decided the bait would expect her, so shemight as well come in as anticipated. There just wouldn’t be asquad of soldiers ready to charge in and capture her.

She pulled her kerchief down around her neck,and she, Maldynado, and Books followed the corridor to a ramp thatangled downward, then turned at the bottom. More hieroglyphsadorned the walls down here, though she did not spot any more dogsengaged in carnal activities.

The corridor widened and angled to the right.Light came from ahead. More gates marked the walls, andcells-shops-lay behind them. A mix of tacky “adventuring hats,”pyramid-related paraphernalia, and history books adorned theshelves.

The light ahead of them was coming from oneof the shops. Amaranthe cut off her lantern and approached onsilent feet.

She stopped at the gate. She did not seeanyone inside, though a candle burned on a merchant’s counter, theflame sputtering on the wick, and a hint of beeswax tinged themusty air. Racks of cheap factory-made clothing stretched along thewalls.

A low groan emanated from the back of theshop. Ah, there was their bait.

A man lay on the floor, his back to them,wrists and ankles tied with a fat rope. Perhaps it had been chosenfor its visibility-one could not miss it, even from the corridor.The wavy brown hair on the man’s head was a familiar hue andlength.

Amaranthe lifted her eyebrows towardMaldynado. He nodded. Yes, it was Mancrest.

The gate stood open. Amaranthe slid her handinto her pocket, wrapping her fingers about the cool metal keys.Though she meant to abandon stealth in a moment, she did her bestto withdraw the fob quietly.

“Evening, Lord Mancrest,” she said as sheselected the key that had worked on the other gate. The number ofshops-and locks-they had passed suggested one key opened multipledoors. “How’d you get yourself tied up there?”

The muffled response was unintelligible. Hedid manage to twist about so she could see a gag blocking hismouth.

“Disgusting,” Maldynado muttered. “What proudman of the warrior caste stoops so low as to act as bait in astupid trap?”

“Ssh,” Amaranthe whispered, then raised hervoice. “Are you in danger, Lord Mancrest? Who tied you up?”

Again, the gag muffled his response, but shecaught the gist this time, “Help, come untie me.”

“I don’t think so.” Amaranthe shut the gate,slipped the key into the lock, and turned it with a resoundingthunk.

Mancrest sat up, eyes wide. His “what’re youdoing?” was easy to understand.

“Getting annoyed with your donkey manure, oldboy,” Maldynado said.

“What?” Mancrest said, still playing thegame.

Was it possible he had not arranged this, andhe was actually imprisoned? No, soldiers would not tie up someonefrom the warrior caste without permission.

“We have comrades to rescue,” Amaranthe said.She found a rough corner on one of the stones on the opposite walland hung the key ring on it. “I imagine you can find a couple ofclothes hangers, twine them together, and fetch that on your ownwith a little patience, assuming your binds aren’t particularlytight and you can free your hands. I wouldn’t count on the soldiersrescuing you. They’re incapacitated at the moment.”

“Especially the one without pants,” Maldynadosaid.

“Will you stop bringing that up?”Books asked.

“Probably not,” Maldynado said.

“Let’s go, gentlemen,” Amaranthe said. “Wehave work to do.”

Mancrest’s shoulders heaved and his facescrewed up as he wriggled his hands behind his back. His bonds fellfree, and he yanked the gag out of his mouth.

“Wait!” He tore away the ropes at his ankles,leaped to his feet, and sprang to the gate.

Books jumped back. Amaranthe watchedMancrest’s hands to make sure he did not reach for a pistol ordagger beneath his shirt. Maldynado leaned against the oppositewall and yawned.

Mancrest grabbed the bars of the gate. Hetried to open it, failed, and gaped at her. “You locked me in?”

“You were planning to ambush us,” Amaranthesaid, not surprised but chagrinned to realize Sicarius had beenright, that Mancrest could not be trusted to do anything exceptturn her over to the enforcers. “I think my response is quitegenerous.”

He curled his lip and opened his mouth, as ifto argue, but closed it again and took a deep breath. “What aboutmy men. Are they…unharmed?”

“I think so. We used what the kidnappers havebeen using to knock people out, and I locked them in.”

“Who’s going to let us out?” Mancrestasked.

“Surely someone else is privy to your planand will come look for you eventually.”

“My brother. After he gets off worktomorrow.”

“Long time without a latrine nearby,”Maldynado said, still leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Butyou deserve to marinate in your own pee overnight.”

Mancrest ignored him. Hands gripping thebars, he told Amaranthe, “It’s my duty and obligation to capturecriminals if I have a chance.”

“Our duty sometimes lands us in unpleasantcircumstances.” A fact she knew well, since following duty was whathad set her on the path that resulted in her becoming an outlaw.She nodded toward the key ring. “I can make it easier for you tounlock yourself, if you tell me what you know about Sicarius’scapture and the kidnappers in general.”

Mancrest’s shoulders drooped, and he leanedhis forehead against a bar. He chuckled ruefully. “When I imaginedhow tonight would end, it involved me questioning you about whatyou knew, not the other way around.”

“He should have come up with a more cleverploy then,” Books said out of the corner of his mouth toMaldynado.

“For once, we agree,” Maldynado saidback.

“Was this interrogation you imaginedhappening here or at Enforcer Headquarters?” Amaranthe asked.

“Fort Urgot,” Mancrest said.

“I’ve been questioned there before. I don’tcare to arrange another visit. Are you going to provide theinformation I requested, or not?”

“What will you do with the information?”

“Rescue my men and stop the kidnappers fromwhatever it is they’re doing,” Amaranthe said. “Given the nefariousnature of the disappearances, I doubt it’s wholesome.”

“Why are you bothering?” Mancrest asked. “Iunderstand your comrades are missing, but you were involved in thisbefore that, were you not?”

“I want exoneration, so I help the empirewhen I can. Now, speak.” She gave him her best icy-cold-Sicariusstare. Given the hours she had wasted coming to Pyramid Park, itwas not difficult to muster.

Still leaning his forehead against the bars,Mancrest considered her. His eyes flicked downward, taking in hernewly acquired rifle. “I suppose I should be grateful you haven’tkilled me for my attempts at trapping you.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Amaranthe said.

“I might,” Maldynado said. “Since youkeep using me to get at her. Street licker.”

“No,” Mancrest said, holding Amaranthe’sgaze. “I’m beginning to see that. I don’t know who has Sicarius,only that an anonymous message came into Enforcer Headquarters,informing them he’d been captured and would be delivered dead bythe week’s end.”

Amaranthe’s breath caught. A steam tramperstomped all over her theory that these kidnappers were collectingsuperior athletes to turn them into soldiers. If they intended tokill Sicarius in a few days…

She closed her eyes. Then she had a few daysto find him. That was what she needed to focus on.

“Also…” Mancrest slipped a hand into apocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. “One of the rookiesbrought me this advertisement for approval. Someone mailed it inwith scrip from a mining outfit.”

Amaranthe’s ears perked. Mining outfit?

“I disapproved it. The Gazette doesn’taccept ads for just any business, certainly not anythingthat sounds like a spiel from a pitchman’s oiled tongue, and wedon’t take scrip for payment either. Later I realized it came in acouple of days before the first abduction. It could be unrelated,but…” He spread a hand, palm up. “Perhaps not.”

Curiosity piqued, Amaranthe took the paperfrom him. Before it had been folded, it had been crinkled, as if ithad spent time in a wastebasket. Books peered over her shoulder atit.

Foreman got you down? Do you deserve more? Ahome on the Ridge? A say in the government? It’s all possible.Invest in your future now. Enquire at the Imperial Tea House.

“Interesting,” Books said. “Perhaps arecruiting letter that was intended to gather more miners?”

“Raydevk didn’t seem too bright,” Amaranthesaid. “I could see him trying to recruit people for criminalactivities in a newspaper.”

Mancrest’s grip tightened on the gate bars.“Raydevk? That’s the name I got when I checked at the tea house.Is this tied in with the missing people?”

“It’s possible.” Amaranthe handed the note toBooks to study further. For all she knew, he could do somehandwriting analysis to identify likely culprits. “We had a run-inwith some miners. What else did you learn at the tea house?”

“Little,” Mancrest said. “Despite the loftyname, it’s run by the same people that own half of the mines in themountains, and it’s something of a slum establishment for lowlyworkers who can only pay in company scrip.”

“I know it,” Amaranthe said, her tone cool.“My father used to go there when he was in town.”

“Oh.”

“Smooth tongue there, Mancrest,” Maldynadosaid.

“Yes, uhm, they picked me out aswarrior-caste right away,” Mancrest said, “and nobody answered myquestions. I was trying to find out where the fellow lived and whathe was selling.”

“Perhaps we’ll check it out later,” Amaranthesaid. “We have another mission tonight.”

“If you find out anything,” Mancrest said,“and you need any help…”

“Oh, sure,” Maldynado said. “You’ve onlytried to lure us into traps twice. Let’s arrange another meeting.Maybe the third time, you’ll figure out how to get us.”

“I understand why you might not be quick totrust me,” Mancrest said.

Amaranthe snorted.

“But-” he lifted a finger, “-if you seekexoneration, then you’ll want me there to witness your magnificentcapture of the perpetrators. As a man from the warrior-caste, Iwould also be obligated to report the truth as I saw it.”

She watched his face, trying to decide if hewas eager for a story or if he simply wanted another chance toensnare her. If he had gone to this tea house, then it mightindicate the former. But Maldynado was right. She’d be an idiot togive him another chance to betray her.

“I’ll think about it,” Amaranthe said.“Gentlemen.” She nodded to Maldynado and Books. It was time togo.

They started down the corridor, but Mancrestcleared his throat.

Ah, the keys. Right.

Amaranthe removed them from the protrudingstone on the wall and dropped them on the floor in front of theshop.

“Didn’t you say you’d let me out if I sharedwhat I knew?” Mancrest eyed the keys. They were closer but stilltoo far for him to reach.

“I said I’d make it easier for you tounlock yourself,” Amaranthe said. “Now you’ll only need one clotheshanger instead of two. Good night.”

She, Maldynado, and Books headed out.Midnight had to be growing near, and they had much work to do.