“Rias—”
“I can’t walk away and let him have you, Tikaya. Not if there’s a chance...”
“Rias.”
He opened his mouth again, but she flattened her palm over his lips. His shoulders slumped, and wariness hooded his eyes.
“I appreciate hearing those things very much.” She grinned at the idea of him toppling an empire—for most people, that was just an expression, but she wouldn’t put it beyond his means. “But there’s no need for you to go on.” She lowered her hand, brushing his lips with her thumb. “You have me.”
He gaped at her in stunned silence.
“You have me for a lot of reasons,” she said quietly, “but especially because you’re willing to give up everything to be here at my side, plotting against your people to destroy those weapons. The definition of a good man is someone who makes the moral choice when temptation invites him to do otherwise. The definition of a hero is someone who makes that moral choice even when temptation, threat of reprisal, and the mores of his culture invite him to do otherwise.” She considered her words and issued a self-deprecating smirk. “That was preachy, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, no, I liked it. Especially the part where you’re calling me a hero.” He grinned, eyes sparkling, and her heart danced.
“I’m sure I’m not the first, Fleet Admiral Starcrest.”
“In Turgonia, you’re a hero if you sink more ships than anyone else.” He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and laid his forehead against hers. “I like your definition better.”
“Good. I hope you like this too: I don’t want you worrying about being selfish because you want to have a life with me. I want one with you too. Some people are worth changing your dreams for.” She kissed him, wishing there was time for more. “I want to be with you. Always. Even if it means we’re both exiles on your forsaken prison island.”
Rias’s grip tightened. “Cursed ancestors, don’t say that.”
“It’s the truth, though I’m going to be terribly disappointed if the preeminent military strategist of the era can’t outsmart a teenage assassin in order to avoid that fate.”
Whatever Rias’s retort was going to be, it was lost when the door hissed open.
Before Tikaya could do more than think of hiding, Sicarius strode in. His gaze swiveled upward to lock on them. The pulsing blue light painted his face in eerie shadows. Blood stained his short blond hair, spattered the side of his face, and painted his hands. As those dark hard eyes raked her, she had an unsettling hunch none of it was his. Two pistols were jammed into his belt, and he carried a dagger. A drop of blood fell from the blade and splashed on the landing.
“Sicarius, good,” Rias said.
Good? The assassin looked like he was about to kill both of them. Tikaya stifled the incredulous expression that wanted to waltz across her face.
“Do you have the door symbols from the journal?” Rias asked.
“You assured Captain Bocrest you were placing the blasting sticks to provide a distraction, but the tunnels came down in such a way that he believed the weapons cavern had been buried and you with it.” Sicarius spoke in such an emotionless monotone it was almost possible to miss the accusation in those words. “I informed the captain that it was unlikely you would miscalculate so badly. The marines are searching the tunnels for you and her.” His cool eyes flicked Tikaya’s way.
She groaned inwardly. The plan would have worked if the emperor’s perceptive henchman wasn’t here. She glanced at Rias, almost expecting him to dive behind the railing and rip his pistol free for a shot, but he did not.
“Demolitions are dangerous and sometimes unpredictable,” Rias said. “We can, of course, rejoin the others now, though why not get through the locked door and finish the mission while the relic raiders are too scattered to guard their cache? Do you have the symbols?”
“Yes,” Sicarius said, no sign on his face of whether he believed Rias’s lies. “I already tried them.”
“How?” Tikaya asked.
No doubt, he was agile enough to scale the side of that butte, but not with those invisible beams waiting to slice off limbs.
“Bow and arrow,” Sicarius said.
Rias lifted an eyebrow toward Tikaya. He probably had not had as good a look at the entryway as she had. She nodded thoughtfully. If Gali had used telekinesis to nudge the symbols around, she supposed something thrown—or shot—against them could do the same job.
“You lined them up?” Tikaya had assumed the numbers she copied were a different set than the ones that had appeared the day Lancecrest got in.
“As close as I could. Not all the symbols matched those in the journal.”
“Maybe you misread them,” Rias said.
Those dark eyes turned a shade cooler. “I did not.”
“I’ve been told the symbols change periodically,” Tikaya said. “It was probably designed so people who knew the secret to the puzzle could always get in, providing they had the math skills, whereas others would have, well, the trouble Lancecrest’s team has had.”
“You know the secret?” Sicarius glided up the stairs, eyes locked on her.
Rias dropped to the step in front of her, blocking the assassin’s advance. Sicarius halted.
“I’m close,” Tikaya said. Or not even remotely close. It was one of the two. “It would help to see the symbols you have that worked before, even if they don’t now.”
For a long moment, Sicarius stared past Rias’s shoulder at her. Finally, he wiped the dagger, sheathed it with the myriad others he carried, and handed her the torn scrap of paper, neatly folded.
“Thank you.” Half the numbers were the same. She would have to check the sphere to translate the others. “I have some ideas about how to get through the web.” Maybe pretending to include Sicarius in their plans would make him more likely to believe they shared the same goal. She put a hand on Rias’s shoulder. “Can you make something that causes smoke? A lot of smoke?”
“With the right ingredients, yes.” Rias snapped his fingers. “Sicarius, can you get us some bat guano from the cavern?”
Tikaya almost choked. Bat guano?
Sicarius’s eyes narrowed. “There is no potassium nitrate in these labs?”
Of course. Potassium nitrate—salt peter—was harvested in bat guano-rich caves, and it was one of the core ingredients in black powder. The kid was bright. They would have to be very careful—and probably lucky—to trick him into helping.
“I haven’t seen any,” Tikaya said. Which was true. With her spectacles missing she had not bothered examining the lab closely.
“I’ll prepare the vats and put together the rest of the ingredients to make some smoke bombs,” Rias said. “And Tikaya will work on the entry code for us. We can finish your mission before Bocrest even misses you.”
“Bat guano,” Sicarius said. “Very well.”
As soon as the door shut behind him, Tikaya and Rias grabbed each other’s arms and started to talk at the same time.
“You first,” Rias said.
“First, I think it’ll be a lot easier to find potassium nitrate in one of these labs than making it from scratch, but I assume you’re just trying to keep him busy.”
Rias nodded. “Yes.”
“Second, can you look at this and tell me what you think? These are the translated numbers from the door pad.” She fished out the page with her solution for the puzzle, wincing as she handed it to him. It had seemed a logical guess during her in-cabinet mulling, but now that she had to share the hypothesis with someone else, she feared it a foolish one.
“A Skiltar Square?” Rias asked. “It looks like you solved it. In Turgonia, you can get books full of them to entertain your precocious children.”
He smirked, and she wondered how many his parents had foisted on him. Her amusement at the idea faded quickly.
“This can’t be right then,” she said. “Too simple for these people. And surely they wouldn’t have had similar puzzles to wha
t we have.”
“Why not? In your studies, haven’t you found that the fundamental properties of numbers are the same in every language, amongst every people? Mathematics surely transcends humanity, existing whether we do or not, so it doesn’t seem odd to me that another species would play the same sorts of games with numbers. And why wouldn’t this entrance code be simple? Do you think someone carrying a toxic weapon up a ramp would have wanted to stand outside the door for three hours making calculations? What if he dropped one of those poison-filled vials and it broke at his feet? Big oops, eh?”
Tikaya laughed. She had not considered that.
“Besides,” Rias said, giving her an appreciative smile. “Those squares aren’t that easy to solve. Why don’t you translate the combination from the journal and see if it’s a solution to one.” He thumped a fist on the railing. “We still need a way to destroy the weapons. I was thinking we might find a formula for a powerful alien version of naphtha or kerosene, because even gas is flammable, right? At a high enough temperature... Tikaya, where are you going?”
Halfway through his spiel, she had charged to the cabinet where she left the cube. She raced back with the contraption clutched in her arms, and Rias lurched back a step at the sight of it.
“It’s not active,” she said. “I’m not sure why, but it gives us the chance to experiment.”
Rias recovered, though he eyed the device warily. “Experiment?”
“The cubes already clean things by incinerating them, right? All we need to do is add those weapons to the list of items its programmed to burn, throw it in that chamber, and close the door. You took one apart, right? Do you think you could alter its parameters? Like a punchcard in a steam loom?”
“I... Tikaya, that thing is so far beyond a steam loom I wouldn’t have any idea where to start.”
“Even if I can translate the schematic?” She thrust the blueprint she had copied toward him. “Give me a moment, and I might be able to find repair instructions in the sphere’s library too.”
Though his eyes darted, devouring the schematic, his wary frown did not fade. “All before Sicarius returns or the marines stumble upon us or angry relic raiders burst in?”
So, that’s what daunted looked like on him. Huh.
“We can do it.” Tikaya slapped him on the backside.
He blinked. “What was that for?”
“I’m encouraging growth.”
CHAPTER 21
Gunfire cracked in the distance. Again. Bent over a table with Rias, Tikaya did not lift her head. The cube, one side removed, sat between them. Several parts she could not name lined the table in the order Rias had removed them. A three-dimensional display of the inside of one of the cubes hovered in the air, courtesy of the sphere. The blue lab lighting continued to flash, providing poor illumination for such detailed work.
A yell of rage—or pain—sounded in the tunnels. Rias grumbled something under his breath about how he ought to be out there, helping the men. He had set the situation up so everyone would be running around in the tunnels, distracted dealing with each other and the darkness, creating just this time they needed, but it clearly did not sit well with him.
“The screwdriver thing,” he muttered.
Tikaya handed him a long tool with a magnetic hook on one end and a tiny flat-tip head on the other. She had finished her work, gathering supplies for Rias’s smoke bombs and translating the schematic and the numbers Sicarius had given her. The latter had proved to be another Skiltar Square. Now she handed Rias tools and tried not to feel useless.
“Close,” he said. “It’s just a switch that modifies the level of ‘cleaning’ to be done, so it’s easier than I thought, but reaching it without taking everything else out is the problem. Also...I’m afraid if I take everything out, I won’t be able to get it back in correctly without breaking something. The insides are much more fragile than the outside.”
“Take your time,” she said, wishing it didn’t sound so inane.
She was not sure how many minutes—hours?—had passed since Sicarius had left the lab, but she was beginning to think he must have run into a distraction. As uncharitable as it was, she hoped for a nice arrow or pistol ball to the chest.
Rias grunted and held out his hand for another tool. The kit of precision implements they had found ranged from knives and scalpels to repair gizmos, most of which she could only guess at. Some were too large for human hands, but all were well-made, the craftsmanship amazingly sturdy for such fine tools. A pair of black knives, in particular, had caught Rias’s eye, and he had stuck them into his belt.
“There,” Rias whispered. “I think I got it.”
“Is there a way to test it?”
“Not here.” He started replacing the innards. “We’ll have to get into the tunnels on the other side of the cavern. That’s where I found the panel to cut off the lights. I’m guessing that whatever powers them powers these cubes and that’s why they’re inert.”
Tikaya realized how lucky she had been when the blasts brought down all that rubble. If power had been running to the cube, it might have cut her down after all.
The door hissed open.
They spat silent curses at the same time.
“Distract him,” Rias mouthed, waving at the mess still on the table. If Sicarius caught them with the cube, he would figure out their plan right away.
Tikaya grabbed the sphere and her notes and sprinted to the top of the stairs. Sicarius was halfway up. No bag of guano dangled from his grip.
Though her instinct was to keep space between her and him, she jogged down several steps so she could stop him before he could see Rias.
“We figured out the code,” she said, waving the pages. “It’s a puzzle with numbers.”
“Where is the admiral?” Sicarius asked.
“We made smoke bombs, and he’s packing them. We did find some potassium nitrate, so we won’t need the guano after all. Which is good, since you seem not to have gotten any.” She winced at her inane babbling. “What’s going on outside?”
Sicarius watched her, impassive eyes betraying nothing of his thoughts. He knew they had sent him on a useless errand. He had to. And he probably knew they were not on his side. They were going to have to kill him or incapacitate him somehow.
“Cat and mouse,” Sicarius said. “I killed one of the wizards. Some of Colonel Lancecrest’s men are proving elusive, and they’ve set traps. Captain Bocrest’s team has split them up, brought a few down, and taken others prisoner.”
Down. Dead. “Parkonis?”
“What?” Sicarius asked.
“The man who...kidnapped me against my wishes. Do you know if he’s alive?”
“He dropped to his knees and begged for his life when we came upon him. He bore no weapon, so the captain took him prisoner.”
Tikaya closed her eyes, thankful Parkonis was not the heroic type. He had no weapons training, and bravery only would have gotten him killed. Being a prisoner was no guarantee of safety, but there was still a chance she could help him.
“Where is the admiral?” Sicarius asked again.
“Here.”
Rias appeared at the top of the stairs, rucksack on his back, and what looked like ceramic globes with fuses in his hands. She had been busy with the translations and had not watched him assemble the smoke bombs. She thought of the vast cavern and hoped four would be enough.
He did not give her a wink or nod, not with the assassin watching, but she thought Rias’s rucksack appeared lumpier than before. He slipped two globes into pockets and handed the other two to Sicarius.
Tikaya wondered how they would detour to the lighting panel with Sicarius tagging along. And would the cube fly up to the weapons room of its own accord, or did they need to get it up there and lock it in somehow? For that matter, would their modifications even work?
Footfalls sounded in the corridor, and gear jingled.
Rias reached for his pistol, but Sicarius’s hand blurred, landing on
his wrist in a firm grip.
Rias twitched an eyebrow, the only indication he felt things might not be going according to plan.
“The captain sent reinforcements.” The steely gaze Sicarius leveled at Rias was far too knowing for comfort. “To watch you and guard our backs while we retrieve some rockets.”
“Watch us?” Tikaya asked innocently. “Why?”
Sicarius did not bother to look at her.
Agarik strode through the door, and Tikaya lifted her head. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
Then Ottotark and Bones clomped in. She tried not to let her chagrin show. Even before Ottotark spotted her, he wore a self-satisfied smirk. Bruises from his fight with Rias still mottled his face, and a bandage wrapped his head, but he appeared delighted at this new turn. Bones ignored Sicarius and Rias in favor of glaring at Tikaya, an angry jaw-clenched glare. No delight there. She guessed Ottotark had buzzed in his ear, letting him know who killed his brother.
Tikaya looked at Agarik, but he avoided her eyes.
“Evening, Admiral,” Ottotark drawled. “We’ll relieve you of your weapons now.” The smirk widened. “Captain says you’re back to prisoner status.” He ambled up to the step below Rias and held out his hand.
Rias neither moved nor spoke.
Ottotark launched a punch at his belly. Rias blocked it and slammed his knee into the sergeant’s diaphragm. Ottotark’s heel slipped off the step, and he nearly tumbled to the landing, but he caught himself on the railing. Tikaya started to back away, to give Rias room to fight, but Sicarius stepped in. He held a knife she had not seen him draw in one hand and splayed the other against Rias’s chest. His eyes were icy in warning.
Rias froze.
Ottotark found his balance. Fury contorted his face, and he snarled as he snatched Rias’s weapons. He lifted the musket, as if he might slam the butt of it into Rias’s head. Tikaya stepped down with a vague notion of grabbing the weapon, but Sicarius stopped Ottotark with a word.
“Enough.”
The men dropped their arms. While punching Ottotark had won Rias nothing, it concerned Tikaya that none of that defiant spirit came out against the assassin. Had his last meeting with Sicarius disillusioned him so much that he would not move against the youth again? If so, that did not bode well for their success.