“They’ll think it’s strange that their buddies are missing. It’s not like the train has stopped and people could have strolled away. I think they’ll keep looking. I’d look for you two if you went missing.”
“Yeah,” Akstyr said, “but you probably like us more than they like each other. We’ve been through heaps together.”
“Easy, boy, don’t get sentimental on me.”
Akstyr snorted. He should have kicked Maldynado harder.
Maldynado slid the trapdoor open a couple of inches, and a slash of early-morning light slipped into the car. He winked. “Let’s see how observant they are on the way back.”
Basilard signed, Same plan?
“What plan is that?” Akstyr asked. “The one where you two pummel them while they’re looking at your underwear?”
“That’s the one.” Maldynado scooted into the shadows. “Though it’s too bad Amaranthe’s pack isn’t here. Her underwear would be a lot more likely to distract hardworking rural men who probably haven’t seen too many ladies in a while.”
Basilard and Akstyr eased away from the trapdoor to hug the shadows as well. They did not have long to wait before the two men returned, and the fellows did indeed stop to investigate the open door. Subduing them was painless, and Maldynado and Basilard were soon atop the rail car, dusting their hands off and sharing congratulatory pats for work well done.
Akstyr rolled his eyes as he climbed outside with them. After the months of training they had spent under Sicarius’s elite tutelage, subduing two common laborers and dumping them off a train wasn’t a meaningful victory. At least he’d gotten to practice a little more of his art.
Basilard signed, What now? Wait to do it again?
“Did anyone see how many men stayed on the train with the weapons?” Maldynado asked.
Basilard shook his head.
“I can figure it out,” Akstyr said.
With the freight car trembling beneath him and wind tearing through his hair, he wasn’t sure how well he could concentrate, but he liked it when he got a chance to show off how useful his skills could be. He sat cross- legged on the roof and closed his eyes.
The first Science book he had found, the one from Larocka Myll’s mansion, had been on Thermodynamics. It was a beastly hard text to understand, and it didn’t help that Akstyr had to have Books translate the language for him, but Akstyr had figured a couple of things out from it. For one, he had learned how to sense heat. At first, that hadn’t seemed very useful, until he’d realized that living things had body heat, and he could detect it at a distance. Not a great distance, but he was improving all the time, and he thought he could sense people a few cars away.
It seemed strange that he could get tired from using his brain in a big way, but Akstyr always did when he was exercising the mental sciences, and he had to wipe sweat off his forehead when he finished. That didn’t keep him from giving a triumphant smirk and saying, “Four.”
Basilard and Maldynado had flopped down on their bellies and were pointing at something in the countryside and arguing. Akstyr always lost track of time when he was practicing. Since neither man seemed to hear him, he thumped Maldynado on the boot to get his attention, then repeated himself.
“Oh, good,” Maldynado said. “As long as that was taking, I thought we might have to wait and count people as they came out for their morning bush watering.”
Akstyr scowled. Maldynado had no idea how much work went into the mental sciences. He-
Basilard patted Akstyr on the shoulder and signed, Good job.
Akstyr’s disgruntlement faded slightly. He appreciated the words-at least somebody noticed that he was useful in the group-but he shrugged and said, “Whatever.” It was important not to let people know that what they thought mattered. That gave them too much power.
“Let’s pay them a visit, shall we?” Maldynado asked.
Basilard signed, What happens when the train stops to make its delivery and nobody’s there to help unload the goods? The recipients might be suspicious.
“They’d be more suspicious if the people who did arrive said half of their team had gone missing on the ride over,” Maldynado said. “This way, they’ll think there was a mix-up in the communications phase of their plan.”
“That’s actually a good point,” Akstyr said.
“Don’t sound so surprised.” Maldynado nodded toward the weapons car. “Let’s be quieter about our approach than those lard-brains were. Maybe we can take out these four before they wake up.”
Akstyr appreciated that Maldynado wasn’t so strictly warrior-caste that he insisted on challenging the enemy to a duel or fair fight or some heroic storybook thing like that. Sometimes aristocrats didn’t have a clue about the real world.
Maldynado led the way across the rail cars, jumping from rooftop to rooftop, until they reached the one just before their destination. They paused to kneel on the edge before crossing over to it.
“Anyone have a plan?” Maldynado asked.
“That doesn’t involve underwear?” Akstyr asked.
“Preferably. We didn’t bring any along.”
Basilard signed, Akstyr, do you know where in the car the four people are located?
“Two were sitting across from the door, smoking.” Akstyr had sensed the bright points of heat and been tickled when he realized he’d identified cigars. “One was on the floor, so maybe sleeping. Another was by himself in the back.” He waved to indicate the end of the car farthest from them.
“Sleeping?” Maldynado asked.
“I don’t think so. He was sitting or maybe crouching. Reminded me of Sicarius off by himself cleaning his weapons.”
Maldynado grimaced. “I hope we don’t run into any Sicarius types with this crew, or we’re in trouble. Basilard, do you want to charge that fellow? He’ll have the most time to bring a gun to bear, but you’re deadly and scary, so maybe he’ll get worried when he sees your scars.”
If Maldynado had told Akstyr to charge some idiot that probably had a gun, Akstyr would have told him to stuff his fist in his mouth and gag on it. But Basilard nodded. He probably figured he was the best fighter and the logical choice. Akstyr was happy to be a mediocre fighter if it meant not being assigned deranged tasks like that.
“I’ll take the smoking men,” Maldynado said. “Akstyr, you get that fourth bloke and be ready to clean up the mess.”
Akstyr wondered if cleaning up the mess would involve healing Basilard when he got shot.
Maldynado shimmied across the coupling, then reached around and grabbed the ladder. He climbed a few rungs, careful not to clomp loudly at any point, and waved for Basilard to come next. Basilard skimmed down and over, almost as deft as Sicarius. Instead of staying on the ladder, he slid across the door, having no trouble navigating the inch-wide threshold, and perched on the other side. Akstyr couldn’t guess what tiny nubs Basilard was using for hand and footholds. With the train speeding across the flatlands and harsh winds whistling down the tracks, it seemed a tenuous position.
Akstyr clambered down and settled beneath Maldynado on the ladder. He withdrew his sword, a sturdy cutlass good for close-quarters skirmishes, and nodded that he was ready. Basilard grabbed the latch and pulled the door open with one swift motion. He and Maldynado leaped into the car as if they practiced the move all the time. They landed side-by-side and charged into the interior.
Akstyr gave them a second to get out of the way-and to make sure no bullets were flying-before jumping in after them. He landed with his sword in hand, his feet pointed in the direction he was supposed to run.
Before Akstyr had taken more than a step toward the man on the floor, an invisible force slammed into him. It knocked him backward, then smashed him to the floor. He tried to push himself up, but a weight kept him pressed flat. The memory of a similar situation, at the hands of the wizard Arbitan Losk, flashed through his mind. Against all likelihood, these thugs had a practitioner with them.
“I can’t hold them for long,” a strained voice said from the rear of the cab. “Hurry up and kill them.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Akstyr could see Maldynado and Basilard flattened to the floor as well. Two of
