Amaranthe thought of saying “Be careful,” but it seemed too little for the moment. She stepped back into the cab and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. He didn’t return the embrace, but at least he no longer seemed rigid and angry.
“Good luck,” she said, pulling back. “Remember, don’t do anything foolish up here to get yourself blown up. The plan is for you to run back and join us before the explosion. So you can get squished in the cave-in like the rest of us.”
Sicarius snorted. “A superior death, no doubt.”
“Just make sure to get back there. If we’re going to get squished, I want time to plan something significant. Like dying holding your hand, so we’ll be together for all eternity.” Amaranthe winked and hopped out of the train before he could scoff or roll his eyes. She’d never actually seen him do either, but that suggestion might warrant an emotional outburst.
* * * * *
Amaranthe paced about the cavern. It would take time for the water in the boiler to heat up and more time for the steam pressure to reach dangerous levels, but she felt as if she’d been waiting for hours already. She tried to nibble at a fingernail before remembering she’d decimated them all.
The others sat or stood near the wall of rubble farthest from the train. Sespian and Yara looked like they were contemplating fingernail chewing as well. Basilard and Maldynado were engaged in Last Soldier, a strategy game one could play with marbles, or in this case small pebbles scavenged from the cavern. Though Amaranthe knew they had to be as nervous as she, their blasé demeanors made her envious.
A lantern sat on a railway tie next to Basilard and Maldynado, its flame straight and steady. No hint of wind or a draft down here, she thought.
She stopped beside their game, thinking she should at least pretend she wasn’t nervous. Leaders were supposed to display confidence about their plans, weren’t they? At the very least, chatting might make her less aware of time creeping past.—and help avoid the thought that something might have happened to Sicarius while he was building up the fire. What if, with no place for the smokestack fumes to escape to, they’d filled the tiny space and asphyxiated him?
“Who’s winning?” Amaranthe blurted. Distraction, she needed a distraction.
“Basilard, but he’s cheating,” Maldynado said.
Basilard signed, Now, how am I cheating?
“If I knew how you were doing it, I’d stop you.”
I don’t know why I play with you.
“Because I’m fun,” Maldynado said, “and I buy you a drink after you win, even though you cheat so often.”
You buy drinks no matter who wins.
Maldynado smiled. “See? That’s why I’m fun.”
Their conversation didn’t do as much to distract Amaranthe as she’d hoped, and she nearly fell over in relief when Sicarius burst out of the crevice on the far side of the chamber.
Before she could say anything, he pointed at the floor in the center of the chamber and barked, “Down.”
Amaranthe hustled onto the railway, waving for the others to join her. Being next to the walls of rock when a new explosion went off might not be a good idea. She sank to her knees and buried her face in her lap, her arms protecting her head. Soon, bodies pressed against her on all sides.
When the explosion came, its boom was so muted that Amaranthe questioned whether it truly came from the locomotive. It sounded so distant that it might have occurred outside. A faint tremor shook the earth, and dust drizzled to the floor in places, but the cave-in they had worried about didn’t materialize.
“Is that it?” Maldynado asked. “Are you sure you blew up the boiler correctly?”
Sicarius gave him a cool stare.
Sespian’s shoulders slumped. “We’re going to be stuck here for days.”
Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad, Amaranthe thought. It would give her a chance to wheedle details out of Sespian, and Sicarius could find opportunities to spend time with him. She walked over to the lantern, intending to pick it up and lead the way to the locomotive for an inspection, but she paused, her hand hovering over the handle. The flame was flickering.
“Draft?” she wondered.
Amaranthe grabbed the lantern and hustled for the crevice.
“Wait for us,” Maldynado hollered. “That’s our only light.”
Amaranthe barely heard him. She scraped past boulders, clunking her head more than once in her haste to reach the locomotive. A breeze whispered across her cheeks. Yes, they’d definitely poked through somewhere, but would it be enough to allow them to escape?
When she burst out of the cramped passage, she stumbled over rubble and almost sprawled to the ground. She gripped a newly deposited boulder to catch herself. Rubble had completely buried the locomotive, and she couldn’t see the boiler at all. But it didn’t matter. Cold flakes of snow drifted through the top half of the tunnel exit and landed on Amaranthe’s nose.
“Huh,” came Sicarius’s familiar monotone from behind her.
“I guess there won’t be any hand-holding today,” Amaranthe said, a smile on her face as she turned around.
Maldynado and Sespian were in the passage behind Sicarius, and she blushed at her silly statement, hoping they hadn’t heard it.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Maldynado drawled. “This looks like an occasion for celebratory touching.” He looked over his shoulder, probably seeing if Yara had joined them. “I’m always available for such activities.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Amaranthe said. “Shall we—”
Sicarius grabbed her arm and shoved her back into the crevice. He stepped in front of her, a throwing knife appearing in his hand.
Sandwiched between him and Maldynado, Amaranthe couldn’t see anything, but she heard rocks shift and pebbles clatter up ahead.
“Am—” The male speaker broke into a spatter of coughs before finishing her name.
“Is that Books?” Amaranthe asked, not certain from the single syllable but figuring Forge minions wouldn’t call out to her by first name.
The coughs ended, followed by a raspy, “Amaranthe, is that you? Unwisely blowing up tunnels from within them? I hope you studied the structural stability of the passage before—” The voice broke into another bout of coughing.
Amaranthe grinned. “That’s Books.”
She nudged Sicarius, and he stepped aside, though he did not sheathe his throwing knife. More rubble shifted, and Books’s head appeared over the lip of the pile. Sicarius left Amaranthe’s side to jog, then climb toward him. She thought he might offer Books a hand, but he skimmed past without a word and disappeared down the other side.
“Good to see you as well,” Books called over his shoulder.
“He’s scouting.” Amaranthe scrambled up the rubble pile. Rocks shifted and slipped beneath her feet, sending a cascade down behind her. “We ran into a strange flying craft.”
“Yes, we opted to hide from it.” Books eyed the buried locomotive. “Wisely, I believe.”
“Booksie, how’ve you been?” Maldynado called. “How’s the dirigible? Lush and luxurious as is fitting for an emperor? And weary mercenaries who’ve been severely mistreated of late?”
“Your dirigible came infested with thugs who attacked us in the middle of the mission,” Books growled at him. “And then more thugs jumped Akstyr when he was setting the charges at the pass, and—did you say emperor? Did you succeed in getting him?”
Sespian and Yara stepped out of the crevice behind Maldynado and Basilard.
“Sire!” Books blurted and attempted to bow from where he knelt at the top of the rubble pile. He almost pitched face-first down the slope.
“Charges at the pass?” Sespian asked mildly.
“Er, did I not mention that, Sire?” Amaranthe had reached the top of the rubble pile and could see out to the forest beyond the destroyed tunnel. She turned around to give Sespian a sheepish smile. “I must apologize for the destruction of a section of railway, especially when we didn’t need that
particular distraction.”
“She’s rather cavalier about destroying imperial property, isn’t she?” Sespian said.
“She has single-minded focus,” Maldynado said. “She’ll stop Forge and help the empire, even if she has to blow up the entire continent in the process.”
Amaranthe decided it’d be better not to comment. Besides, if that craft was still around, they needed to get out of there quickly, as soon as she made sure her men were well.
“Is Akstyr all right?” Amaranthe peered more closely at Books and touched his arm. Dark bags lurked under his eyes, and a swollen bruise rose from the side of his jaw. He must have had a grueling night too. “Are you all right?”
“His injuries are graver than mine, and he had to do some draining magical mumbo jumbo to keep that aircraft from noticing us. I left him on watch in navigation. If everyone here can climb, we can get back on board, and I can tell you the rest.”
The grim set to Books’s face told Amaranthe she might not want to hear “the rest,” but she nodded and said, “Agreed.”
Chapter 19
Akstyr removed his nose from the navigation cabin window and sat back in the chair. Books was walking out of the crumbled tunnel entrance with the others. That was good, Akstyr supposed, though apprehension stirred anew in him when he saw Amaranthe and Sicarius. Books would tell them what Akstyr’s role had been in this mess. Amaranthe would forgive him, he figured, but Sicarius? After all the times he’d thought about betraying Sicarius for that bounty, it’d be pitiful if confiding in his mother was what earned Akstyr a throwing knife in the back.
But he ought to be safe for the moment. He’d memorized the schematics and dissected one of the tiny metal balls from the shaman’s box. If the emperor was truly implanted with one of the spheres, the team would need him to help with the operation. That meant Sicarius couldn’t kill him. Akstyr grimaced. Until five seconds after the surgery.
Light winked somewhere outside, and Akstyr lurched to his feet. He was supposed to be keeping watch, not simply sitting around. He and Books had followed the black craft out of the mountains at a distance, though they couldn’t have kept up if they’d tried. For all of its size, that thing skimmed through the air effortlessly. From miles back, they’d watched it shoot narrow white beams into the top of the cliff, caving in the tunnel. The craft had loitered, its red searchlight probing the rubble, for a long time before drifting south along the railway. Books had waited longer than Akstyr thought they should before flying close to the destroyed train tunnel. Once there, they’d shouted for survivors and tried to pull rubble away but had had no luck. Books had been in the process of calculating how to use blasting sticks on the blocked entrance when the explosion had come from within.
Akstyr scoured the horizon, searching for the light he’d seen out of the corner of his eye. Dawn might only be an hour or two off, but it was still dark outside. It didn’t take him long to find the light. A small, blue circle pulsed on and off on top of the cliff. Something the black craft had left behind on accident? Or on purpose?
Akstyr closed his eyes and stretched his mind in that direction, but once again he did not sense anything otherworldly about the device. “Can’t be good, whatever it is.”
He jumped to his feet, and, reminded of his wound with a stabbing pang, hobbled toward the door, intending to warn the others. He almost crashed into Sicarius, who was striding into the navigation cabin ahead of Books and Amaranthe.
“Uh,” Akstyr said eloquently.
The icy stare Sicarius leveled at him made Akstyr stumble back, wound forgotten. The man was always icy, but there was an extra edge to his glare today. Had Books already spoken to him?
When Amaranthe came in, she patted Akstyr on the shoulder. “Keeping us afloat?” She waved at the controls, then noticed him favoring his leg, and added, “And keeping yourself alive?”
“Yes.” Until Sicarius gets me alone, Akstyr thought. He pointed toward the glowing object on the cliff. “I was going to tell you about—”
“I see it,” Sicarius said.
Amaranthe leaned on the console and peered outside. “What is it?”
“I could only guess.”
“That’s permitted, you know,” Amaranthe said. “Especially considering there’s more knowledge behind your guesses than the rest of us have put together.”
Books huffed at that comment. Akstyr caught his eye, pointed to Sicarius’s back, and signed, Did you tell them? About... He tapped his chest.
Books opened his mouth, but Akstyr stopped him with a shushing wave, then wriggled his fingers.
Not yet, but I told Amaranthe there was something she’d have to know. I can’t keep this a secret. It threatens the group.
I know, Akstyr signed, but please don’t tell her when he’s around.
He pointed to Sicarius only to realize Sicarius’s head had rotated in his direction. Akstyr gulped. If he’d seen all of the signs...
“My guess,” Sicarius said, “would be that it’s a monitoring device.”
Amaranthe tore her gaze from the blinking light. “Monitoring... us? The cave-in? To see if we make it out?”
“Yes.”
“And would it then be able to send that information back to the enemy craft?”
“Yes,” Sicarius said.
Books raised a finger. “How do you know what it’s capable of? Akstyr says it’s not magical, and even if it is—”
“We’ll do explanations later,” Amaranthe said.
“We need to get this craft moving,” Sicarius said. “The emperor’s destination is Sunders City.”
“Can’t you even tell me if—”
“Now.” Some of Sicarius’s icy glare hit Books.
Books quailed under it and slunk to the controls. “Very well.”
Sicarius and Amaranthe headed back down the corridor, and Akstyr overheard her asking, “Our craft won’t be anywhere near as fast as theirs, will it?” and Sicarius responding, “No,” before their conversation was too far away to hear.
“So good to have him back,” Books muttered.
“I’ll say.”
“Wait,” came Amaranthe’s voice from the corridor.
Akstyr winced in anticipation of more trouble when she hustled back in, dragging Sicarius behind her.
“Were you able to get through to the shaman’s workshop?” Amaranthe asked. “Did you find anything?”
“Yes,” Akstyr blurted, relieved to have a chance to remind that he could help with the implant. He hustled down the corridor to the cabin he’d claimed for himself, grabbed the box and the schematic, and rejoined the others. “These are the implants. I’ve studied them. With some help, I think I could remove one.”
“Oh!” Amaranthe startled Akstyr by grabbing him by the shoulders and kissing him on the cheek. “That’s more than I dared hope for. Wonderful.”
Books cleared his throat. “I helped retrieve them.”
Amaranthe stood on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek too. For a moment, Akstyr thought she might try the same move on Sicarius—he was standing there, face utterly expressionless as usual—but she merely smiled at him and said, “The emperor will want to know about this.”
“Likely,” Sicarius said and walked out.
Akstyr doubted if he cared a whit if the emperor’s neck exploded or not.
“Akstyr,” Amaranthe said, “gather whatever materials you think we might need to remove the device and... I assume the surgery will be dangerous?”
“Oh, hugely dangerous. To him and me and anyone in the room.” Akstyr tapped the box. “These things can jump like crickets.”
“Grab a couple of hours of sleep then. I want you rested. In the meantime, I’ll be busy convincing the emperor to trust you with his life.”
Amaranthe walked out, and Akstyr watched her go in silence. When he’d been studying the spheres, he’d been focused on figuring out how they worked—and how to make them not work. Only now, at the mention of lives, did he realize the enorm
ity of the responsibility in his lap. He’d have to perform, or at least help perform, surgery on the emperor over all of Turgonia. What if he messed up and Sespian died?
* * * * *
Amaranthe strode down the corridor toward the suite they had assigned Sespian. She was relieved that Akstyr and Books had found the devices and had a plan of action, but she worried her skills of persuasion might not be up to convincing the emperor to undergo the surgery. He had no reason to trust Akstyr with his life.
Maldynado and Yara’s voices drifted up from the cargo area. Maybe Amaranthe and Sicarius could snatch a moment to talk to Sespian alone, though they probably didn’t have time for big revelations. That blinking light worried her.
Before she reached the suite, a door to one of the smaller cabins opened. Sicarius stood on the threshold.
“A moment.” He stepped back, gesturing for Amaranthe to step past him and go inside.
Not certain what concern he might voice, Amaranthe tried to find a clue in his eyes, but, as always, he gave away nothing. As she walked into the cabin, she tried not to feel like a student being taken aside by a teacher for a lecture on her failings. Things were going as well as could be expected, and they had a potential solution to Sespian’s most pressing problem. Sicarius ought to be pleased.
No lanterns burned in the room, and Amaranthe had only a glimpse of two empty bunks before Sicarius shut the door. Blackness swallowed them.
“If this is going to be a private admonishment, I wouldn’t mind a light,” Amaranthe said. “I need to see your face so I can know when my attempts at levity have crossed from amusing you to irking you.” Not that his face ever gave away much, but sometimes she could decipher his mood through the degrees of hardness.
Before Amaranthe could turn toward him, or start patting around for a lantern, Sicarius wrapped his arms around her from behind. It was so uncharacteristic that her first thought was that he was launching some sort of training exercise and expected her to defend herself. But she’d already be on her back with a dagger at her throat if that were the case.