“Relax, gentlemen.” Amaranthe laid the list on their table. “We’re not talking about broccoli and lamb shanks here.”
Maldynado and Basilard leaned forward to read the list.
“Item number one,” Maldynado said, “blasting sticks. Two, knockout gas. Three, smoke grenades. Oh, good. Manly things.”
“Blasting sticks?” Akstyr asked. “What market has those?”
“More importantly,” Books said, “what are the blasting sticks for?”
“My plan.” Amaranthe smiled and glanced over her shoulder, wondering if Sicarius had joined them yet. She needed the blasting sticks for her kidnapping scheme, but she also hoped they could get enough of them to blow their way into the collapsed mine and the remains of Tarok’s shamanic workshop.
“Will the details of that plan be forthcoming soon?” Books asked.
“Yes,” Amaranthe said. “As some of you already know, the last train we can catch to reach Forkingrust in time to intercept the emperor leaves at dawn. We need to gather our supplies and be on it. Most of us, anyway.”
“Most?” Books asked.
Wait. Basilard pointed at Maldynado. Shouldn’t you tell her about your brother first? Might that knowledge not affect our plans?
Maldynado frowned. “I hope not.”
Amaranthe arched her eyebrows. “Brother?”
“Uhm, yes,” Maldynado said.
Also, she needs to know who got those weapons.
Amaranthe nodded. On the trip back to the city, she’d been so busy scheming ways to get that thing out of Sespian’s neck that she hadn’t thought much about what the other half of the team had been doing.
Basilard seemed to be waiting for Maldynado to start explaining, but when Maldynado merely sat there, shoulders hunched, grimace frozen on his face, Basilard started signing. His fingers flowed, explaining the details of their trip to the army fort.
Chagrin blossomed within Amaranthe as she “listened” to his words. The weapons had been for the military? Not for some coup against the government or the city? She and Sicarius had destroyed, or at least severely damaged, a weapons-making facility that shipped orders to the army?
Amaranthe found herself by the windowsill, wiping away the dust as her mind spun. Dear ancestors, she’d been worried about the kidnapping getting her team in trouble, but this would be a major blow if the authorities found out what she had done. And she’d been foolish enough to amble up and knock on that farmer lady’s door. As soon as someone questioned that woman…
Ugh, just when she’d managed to convince Deret Mancrest that her team was working for the good of the empire… Just when they’d started to see favorable stories printed in the newspapers…
“But there might still be some plot, right?” Akstyr asked.
Thoughts focused inward, Amaranthe had stopped seeing Basilard’s hand signs, but Akstyr’s words made her lift her head. “What?”
Akstyr looked from Maldynado-who was being oddly silent-to Basilard who shrugged, then nodded, then shrugged again. “On account of Maldynado’s brother not being stationed here regularly and him being with that evil-looking fellow in black,” Akstyr said.
At the mention of someone evil in black, all heads turned toward the door. This time, Sicarius was there, standing in the shadows, his face as frigid and unreadable as ever. Out of all of her mistakes over the last two days, Amaranthe was most regretting sharing their plans, however obliquely, with Yara. Sicarius hadn’t said as much, but she had a feeling he saw it as a betrayal of trust. She wasn’t sure he was wrong.
“Evil fellow in black?” Books asked.
“He looked like someone Sicarius would know,” Maldynado said, suddenly animated. Maybe he’d rather talk about anyone except this brother? “Same entirely unimaginative wardrobe, predilection for cruel weapons, and humorless face.” Maldynado draped his elbow over the back of his chair and considered Sicarius. “More scars though.”
“Describe him,” Sicarius said.
“Didn’t I just do that?”
He was an older, white-haired man with a scar, Basilard signed, then drew a semi-circle beneath his eye.
“A brand?” Sicarius asked.
“Yes,” Maldynado said at the same time as Basilard nodded. “It looked like someone stamped him with a hot iron, the way they brand sheep up in the hills.”
“Someone you know?” Amaranthe asked Sicarius. She caught a hopeful tone in her voice. She had to admit that she dearly wanted those weapons to be part of some villainous scheme, so she could justify her team’s interference.
“Major Pike,” Sicarius said.
“An army officer?” Amaranthe asked, though the lack of a “crest” name meant he wasn’t warrior caste. Though rare, ordinary soldiers did sometimes earn officer ranks through great deeds. Either way, it dashed her hopes that this fellow’s presence signified a nefarious plot. If he was an officer, he had a right to be there.
“A former officer, yes,” Sicarius said. “He was forced out of the service nearly thirty years ago for excessive cruelty.”
Basilard’s eyebrows flickered. You can be discharged from the Turgonian army for that? I thought it was a desirable trait.
“Easy, now,” Maldynado said. “We’re not that bad.”
“He was a rare case,” Sicarius said. “As a young officer, he made his superiors uneasy with his zealousness during interrogations. Later he tortured and raped young recruits, using his rank to force them to remain silent. When this was discovered, he was kicked out, and his family disowned him.”
That’s despicable, Basilard signed.
“Atrocious,” Books said.
“Agreed on both counts,” Amaranthe said.
“So, this fellow was one of the Pikecrests?” Maldynado asked. “They’re an old and honorable family. I can see why they’d want to disassociate themselves from someone of that, uhm, caliber.”
“After the incident,” Sicarius said, “Hollowcrest recruited the major to be the emperor’s Master Interrogator.”
Amaranthe snorted. “I shouldn’t be surprised.”
“I’m not.” Maldynado smirked at Sicarius. “Is he the chap who taught you how to interact with folks in such a friendly and affable manner?”
Sicarius sent a stony glare in his direction.
Maldynado nodded. “Yes, like that.”
Amaranthe watched Sicarius, also wondering under what circumstances he might have been associated with this man. No, she supposed she needn’t wonder. Who better than a Master Interrogator to help train the emperor’s personal assassin? If this Pike had been forced out of the army thirty years earlier and promptly gone to work for Hollowcrest, Sicarius might have been young, less than ten years old, when they first met. Amaranthe had seen Sicarius get answers out of people efficiently-though she had a feeling she hadn’t seen the extremes he might go to if she were not around to influence him-but she’d also seen him take horrible wounds himself without flinching or acknowledging the pain. Somehow she doubted that was a… talent one could learn without having endured a lot of pain in one’s life. Though Sicarius spoke little of his past, she remembered him once saying he’d learned to think of other things when his mind had to be elsewhere.
Sicarius returned her gaze, and, not for the first time, Amaranthe wondered if he ever wondered what she was thinking.
“Am I correct in assuming he no longer works for the emperor?” she asked.
“Sespian saw to his dismissal shortly after Raumesys died,” Sicarius said.
“Good for him.” Maldynado pushed aside the tiles on the table and waved to the map. “Are we going to plan the emperor’s rescue, or sit around squawking like hens all day?”
