Maldynado shuffled his feet, stirring the piles of dried leaves on the side of the street. “No snow. Good.”
“We’re out of the mountains,” Amaranthe said. “Forkingrust is at a lower elevation than Stumps, and it’s further south as well. It shouldn’t get too cold tonight.”
“I can see my breath, boss,” Maldynado said.
“I didn’t say it was balmy. We won’t have to wait long anyway.”
“Can we wait in the train station instead of outside?”
“No,” Amaranthe and Sicarius said at the same time.
“So nice when you two are in agreement,” Maldynado muttered. “They have a big crackling hearth in there,” he told Basilard, who walked at his side. “And there’s a lady who sells steaming-hot mulled cider inside.”
They passed near a streetlamp, and Basilard signed, What’s it mulled with?
“Wholesome stuff,” Maldynado said. “Spices, cinnamon, orange zest.”
Alcohol?
“Oh, naturally. Every mug is about half brandy.”
“Not a beverage I’d recommend given the calisthenics tonight’s mission will require,” Amaranthe said.
“You’re not much fun, are you, boss?” Maldynado draped an arm over her shoulder.
“Not really, no.”
Sicarius glared at Maldynado, and he dropped his arm.
Unfazed, Maldynado went on, “Don’t you think we should have a beverage to offer the emperor when we get him? We don’t want him to think we’re savages.”
Maybe Amaranthe should have tucked alcohol in with the blasting sticks she gave Books and Akstyr. She glanced at Sicarius, thinking of at least one conversation that might go easier under the influence of a bottle.
“I do want to check inside in case Yara is there,” Amaranthe said.
Sicarius turned his glare onto her.
“No need to fret,” or glower, she thought, “I’ll go in alone.”
As she spoke, they reached the end of the block of warehouses, and the train station came into view. Amaranthe stumbled to a halt. No less than ten army vehicles were parked around it, including two steam trampers that towered over the brick building, their banks of cannons bristling like quills on a porcupine. Lanterns outside and chandeliers inside illuminated soldiers patrolling the premises, both the debarkation boardwalk next to the tracks and the big hall inside.
“What’s going on?” Amaranthe murmured. “Is all of this just because the emperor’s train is going through? He’s not even scheduled to get off here.”
“You told the enforcer woman there would be a kidnapping.” Sicarius’s tone was as cool and emotionless as ever, so it might have been her imagination that there was an accusing I-told-you-so in there… but she doubted it. “It’s likely she informed the authorities.”
“We don’t know that,” Amaranthe said, though a heavy feeling gathered in the pit of her stomach. Mistake, that conversation had been a mistake. One she might not have made if she hadn’t been thinking of ridiculously unimportant things like who was going to date whom.
“You did what?” Maldynado asked after a moment of stunned silence.
“I invited her to join us and help the emperor,” Amaranthe said. “I didn’t tell her to alert the army to anything.”
“What’d you invite her for?” Maldynado sounded like a petulant boy whose parents had told him a neighborhood girl was coming to play in his treehouse.
“I thought she might be useful.” Amaranthe chewed on a fingernail, wondering if they should avoid the train station all together now. They did have a backup plan-hopping onto the moving cars from Akron Bridge three miles northeast of Forkingrust. That had been the reason for their bridge-jumping practice the week before. “If we have to, we’ll switch to our back-up plan, but I’m going in there to get information first. For all we know, this is some splinter group supplied with modern weapons and assigned the task of taking over the emperor’s train.” She looked at Maldynado as she said the last sentence, thinking of his brother, and he scratched his jaw thoughtfully. Sicarius’s expression, too, grew a little less icy, as he seemed to consider the possibility.
Amaranthe shouldn’t hope for such a thing-she didn’t want to witness a bloodbath as soldiers battled soldiers, with Sespian in the middle-but she did hope that these people weren’t here because of her own foolishness.
“You three, why don’t you scout the water tower and coal-filling station?” Amaranthe suggested. “I’ll meet you back there when I’m-”
Sicarius gripped her arm. “You’re not going in there alone.”
Amaranthe wasn’t sure if he was concerned for her safety or simply thought he needed to save her from another stupid decision. She didn’t like having him countermanding her wishes in front of the men, but she didn’t want to squabble in front of them either. Maldynado and Basilard were already pretending to study the nearest lamppost.
“Excellent,” Amaranthe said. “I was hoping someone would volunteer to accompany me. I fear it shouldn’t be you, however, as those blond locks are quite distinctive. Maldynado, would you like to dress up in a costume and go inside with me? Perhaps you can get a jug of that brandy cider to take with us.”
“Excellent idea, boss,” Maldynado said.
Though she had been speaking to Maldynado, Amaranthe hadn’t looked away from Sicarius, and she raised her eyebrows, silently asking him if her compromise would do.
He didn’t look pleased, but he released her arm and stepped back. “Basilard and I will be nearby if you need assistance.”
Basilard nodded at this.
“Thank you,” Amaranthe said, hoping he knew that she meant her thanks to include the fact that he was still going to support her, even though her loose lips might be the reason they had an extra obstacle to deal with.
What costumes will you use? Basilard pointed at Maldynado. His hair is too long for a soldier.
“I don’t want to beat anyone up for a uniform,” Amaranthe said, “though I have observed that warrior-caste men tend to ignore such things as army regulations.”
“We ignore anything that gets in the way of good fashion sense.” Maldynado stroked the dyed raccoon tail dangling from his fur cap.
Amaranthe refrained from comment. Barely.
“I can feel Sicarius glowering all the way over here,” Amaranthe muttered.
She and Maldynado had, courtesy of an unlocked bedroom window, acquired costumes and were getting ready to casually stroll into the train station as a couple of weary travelers. Amaranthe wore a businesswoman’s skirt, blouse, and fitted jacket, while a wig gave her a head of curly reddish brown hair. Maldynado wore workman’s togs and was still grousing that they hadn’t been able to find something suitable to his tastes-as if anything on an average person’s laundry line would do for him. She meant to pass him off as her servant, should anyone ask, though with his bumptious posture that might be difficult.
“He can hurl that glare around like a cannonball.” Maldynado adjusted an unimaginative wool cap that had replaced his raccoon-fur masterpiece. “You don’t usually get it though.”
“You’re just not around for it. Ready?” Amaranthe waved toward the front door, trying not to focus on the fact that they had to walk between two army lorries to reach it.
“You voluntarily spend time with him, so you can’t blame anyone except yourself,” Maldynado said as they started walking. “You could always spend more time with me.” He wriggled his eyebrows. “I’m fun.”
“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”
When they walked past two soldiers posted at the front door, Amaranthe tilted her face downward, ostensibly watching the steps. Maldynado didn’t seem to have it in him to avoid looking anyone in the eye. Though the bounty on his wanted poster had never been raised above a meager two-hundred-and-fifty ranmyas, Amaranthe wouldn’t be surprised if numerous soldiers recognized him at this point. She hoped his drab clothing would keep them from looking too closely.
As they entered the brick building, though, the soldiers weren’t paying much attention to visitors. Some patrolled along the boardwalk outside, but more simply seemed to be waiting. Quite a few had rucksacks with
