“Nothing I’d care to share,” Amaranthe said.
“Not even for the right price?”
“With my deal complete, I’ve no need for extra coin right now.”
“I was thinking of information, not coin,” Rockjaw said. “I know something you’d like to know.”
“You sound positive.”
“Oh, I am. It involves your men.”
A jackrabbit hopped around in Amaranthe’s belly. Sicarius? Was he in trouble? It seemed unlikely-the only time he’d gotten in trouble had been when he was trying to do a favor for her. Somehow she doubted he had that in mind currently. Of course, if he had gone off on Sespian’s behalf… Amaranthe had no doubt that Sespian meant more to him than she did and that he would risk much on his son’s behalf.
“Is that so?” she asked, trying to keep any sign of her thoughts off her face. “What’s the price for this information?”
Rockjaw pushed away from the wall and strolled closer. Though he had put his pipe away, the scent of tobacco lingered about him. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re doing with knockout gas, blasting sticks, and a torch that can cut through metal?”
“Sorry, but I need to keep the details of our next mission to myself,” Amaranthe said. “I don’t suppose you’d like me to clean and organize your hideout in trade for your information?”
“I don’t believe you’d care to visit the bowels of my hideout.” Rockjaw smirked. “I’ve learned enough about you to know you’d be horrified by the conditions for my workers and… guests. A clean environment is not their primary consideration.”
Books stirred at Amaranthe’s side. Though he said nothing, she could imagine him wondering what he’d done in his life to be condemned to standing in dark alleys, conversing with such unsavory sorts.
“Shouldn’t you cackle maniacally after you say things like that?” Amaranthe asked Rockjaw.
“Do you want the information or not, Lockdon? If you’re not going to tell me what you’re up to, I need something else useful in trade.”
Amaranthe still had one of the rifle cartridges in her pocket. She withdrew it and rolled it around in her hand, debating whether to give it to Rockjaw and tell him about the weapons. That the fancy firearms had been made in secrecy for the army meant she probably shouldn’t spread the word, but that proprietary design still made her wonder if there wasn’t something fishy going on. At the moment, it was the only interesting information she could part with.
She tossed Rockjaw the bullet and told him about the farm and what was out there. At her side, Books shifted uneasily as she shared the information, but he didn’t object at any point.
“Interesting.” Rockjaw rubbed the cartridge between his fingers. “And worth the information I have to offer you.”
Amaranthe suspected she’d given Rockjaw something worth far more than what he was going to tell her, but she managed a “Thank you” that wasn’t too dry.
“Your boy, Akstyr, tried to sell information on Sicarius’s whereabouts and secret weaknesses today.”
Books sucked in a breath. He probably didn’t care one way or another about Sicarius, but someone coming after Sicarius might endanger the whole team.
“I see.” Amaranthe was disappointed, but not surprised that Akstyr had tried to betray them. The part about “secret weaknesses” disconcerted her. Had Akstyr figured out Sicarius’s relationship to Sespian? It seemed impossible, but she couldn’t think of anything else that could be used against Sicarius. “To whom?” she asked Rockjaw.
“Khaalid the Knife.”
“That’s a bounty hunter, isn’t it?”
“Yes, but he refused the offer,” Rockjaw said. “He made a point to tell me, knowing I occasionally deal with you. I think he wouldn’t mind being on Sicarius’s good side.”
“Sicarius doesn’t have a good side,” Books said.
“Khaalid would like to not be on his bad side then,” Rockjaw said. “Of course, this altruism might be due to the fact that your boy wanted twenty-five-thousand ranmyas for the information.”
“What in the empire for?” Books asked. “All he does is read and visit brothels.”
Amaranthe could guess-she’d ferreted most of last summer’s scheme to kill Sicarius out of Basilard after he gave it up, and she knew Akstyr wanted to leave the empire to pursue his studies. She’d been trying to find him a local tutor, so he could further his education without leaving the group, but maybe it’d be better to let Akstyr go. He was her least reliable team member and always had been. But then, his skills had come in useful at times. She touched her belly, thinking of the scars beneath her clothing. Maybe it was worth talking to him before making any decisions. With Sicarius off doing who knew what, she could get Akstyr alone for a frank conversation without worrying about stealthy assassins overhearing.
“Thank you, Rockjaw,” Amaranthe said, more sincerely this time.
He gave her a mock military salute and sauntered away.
“Sicarius will kill Akstyr over this,” Books whispered.
“Not if I warn Akstyr and tell him to get out of the city before Sicarius finds out.” Amaranthe headed for the street. “Or if I can convince Akstyr that he’s made a big mistake and it would be in his best interest to stay loyal to us.”
Books fell into step beside her. “Are you sure he’s worth the trouble?”
“He’s young. It’d be nice to give him a chance to grow up and become a decent human being.”
“Some people never grow out of being selfish bastards who think only of themselves.”
“And some people just need encouragement to do so,” Amaranthe said.
“How can you be so optimistic?”
“Because I’m not the one holding a box full of blasting sticks.” Amaranthe managed a smile and sidled away from him. “I do hope you’re watching your steps.”
“You’re a dreadful young woman at times,” Books said.
“I know.” Amaranthe drummed her fingers on her thighs. “He wants the money to go to school, you know that right?”
“Real school or wizard school?”
“Now, now, outside of Turgonia, the study of the mental sciences is considered just as real and respectable as the study of history or languages.”
“I knew there was a reason I didn’t travel,” Books said.
“What if we paid for him to leave the empire and get an education?”
Books missed a step, and the box of blasting sticks lurched alarmingly. “What?”
“I haven’t put any focus into acquiring money, as is clear from my need to barter my services to merchants, but given our group’s talents, we ought to have no problem completing a wide variety of well-paying tasks. I even have contacts amongst the up-and-coming business mavens in Stumps, as I went to school with some of them.”
A young man and woman bicycled by, and Books did not answer right away. They had left the dead streets of the business district and were heading into the university neighborhood, where numerous eating and drinking houses remained open for the young clientele. Amaranthe tugged her hood up, ostensibly against the chill of the frosty night, but more to hide her face.
“Just so I’m clear,” Books said, “you’re proposing that the team finance the education of a scruffy, self- centered youngster who has no loyalty to the team and is, even as we speak, trying to arrange to have your beau killed?”
It was Amaranthe’s turn to stumble and nearly trip. “My what?”
“I thought you would find that description more apt than ‘your pet assassin’.”
“He’s not either,” Amaranthe said, watching the street and pretending to scan the coming intersection for enforcers or bounty hunters instead of meeting Books’s gaze. “And I’d find it apt if you called him by his name. You’ve been working together for nine months.”
Her tone was sharper than she meant it to be, but she didn’t apologize. His offhand remark had flustered her, and she wasn’t sure exactly what he meant by it. Did he think she and Sicarius were engaged in… more than they were? Or was he simply letting her know that he knew she had feelings for him? He’d figured that out a while
