“Yeah, oh. All she wanted from the beginning was to get a piece of the money on my head. I’m a slagging fool for thinking…” Akstyr snorted, wishing he hadn’t asked those dumb questions about people changing. He’d let Books witness his naivete. “It doesn’t matter now. Pieces of that pass blew so high that they’ll be splashing down in the Gulf. Those boys won’t be trouble again.” Unfortunately, there were a lot of other people in that gang.
“Did you tell your mother any other details of our mission?” Books asked.
“No, I didn’t tell her details at all. I just said I’d either be at the pass or Forkingrust.”
Books frowned. “So, it’s possible she sent people here and to Forkingrust where the rest of the team is.”
“I didn’t say anything about Sicarius or the others.”
“I see. You’d only betray them to bounty hunters, not your mother.”
Akstyr’s leg was throbbing, and he was busy worrying about the Madcats, so it took him a moment to grasp what Books was talking about. A chill stampeded down his spine. Books knew what he’d done. Did the whole team know? “I…”
Books’s lips were pursed in disapproval. “Your bounty hunter buddy decided he’d rather have Sicarius on his good side than be on yours. He shared the tale of how you approached him.”
“I didn’t mean for it to make trouble,” Akstyr said. “I was just trying to get some money. I wasn’t even going to tell him where Sicarius really was.”
“Oh, how noble. You weren’t going to put us all at risk, but you were going to steal from someone else.”
“It wouldn’t be stealing if he was greedy enough to fall for it!”
Books stood up, disgust curling his lips. “Disregard what I said before. Most people never change.”
He climbed the ladder, taking his lantern with him, and left Akstyr in the dark.
Chapter 13
Amaranthe and Maldynado sat in a hollow scraped out between two hillocks of coal. They had their knees pulled up to their chins and their backs to the biting wind as the train barreled toward the mountains at fifty miles per hour. A few feet away, on the opposite side of the car, Basilard and Yara hunkered in a similar position. The coal hills wouldn’t provide much cover in a firefight, but Amaranthe didn’t think anyone looking in from the ends could spot her team. Sicarius hadn’t returned from scouting.
Amaranthe opened her pocket watch and tried to read the face, but clouds obscured the moon, and little light brightened the train. The dark, towering evergreens speeding by on either side further blocked the sky.
“I reckon he’s been gone an hour,” Maldynado said.
“I didn’t know clock-free time-telling was one of your skills.” Amaranthe tucked the watch back into her pocket. However long Sicarius had been gone, it felt like too long. If he was limiting his scouting to the roofs of the cars, there wasn’t that much area for him to explore. If he’d gone inside… he shouldn’t have. There were far too many alert soldiers in there.
“I got good at it when I was working for Costace,” Maldynado said.
“That was the lady in charge of the male escorts place, right?”
“Yes. She used to send me off with old crones who regularly competed in the city’s Most Trite and Tedious Conversationalist Contest. Costace said it wasn’t seemly for me to check my watch every three minutes, so I perfected the art of telling time-and knowing when my hours were up-without a clock.”
“It’s amazing that you’re such a noble and compassionate man, considering all the terrible life experiences you’ve endured.” Amaranthe peeked over the coal mound, checking for Sicarius.
“I know,” Maldynado said.
With him, Amaranthe was never certain if he was truly oblivious to sarcasm or if he simply chose to ignore it. She shifted her weight, trying to lessen the discomfort of sitting on lumpy coal for prolonged periods. “As long as we’re here chatting, why don’t you tell me about your brother? Is he-”
“An arrogant, condescending know-it-all who couldn’t be bothered to spit on you to cool you off if you were staked out naked in a scorching hot desert? Yes. Yes, he is.”
“I was going to ask if he’s politically conservative or progressive,” Amaranthe said.
“He’s about as progressive as a rock.”
“How does he feel about Sespian?”
“I haven’t talked to Ravido for five years, and Raumesys was still alive then, so Sespian wasn’t much discussed, but my brother doesn’t approve of anyone with new ideas. He only likes spending time with devoted soldiers who, when they’re deep in their cups, talk about things like duty and honor and the good old days of the empire.”
“I can see why you two might not have gotten along well then,” Amaranthe said.
“I haven’t gotten along well with anyone in my family, not since… Never mind.”
Amaranthe was debating on prying further when a touch on her shoulder startled her. A dark shape slipped in beside her. Sicarius.
She tried to scoot over to give him room, but bumped into Maldynado. “Why don’t you go entertain Yara for a while?” she told him. “She can’t understand Basilard’s signs, so she’s probably missing your charms.” Actually, if Amaranthe read Yara correctly, the woman appreciated the silence and had been relieved when Maldynado and his charms had sat down on the far side of the car. But there wasn’t room for three, and Amaranthe wanted to digest Sicarius’s report without the others around.
“Of that I have no doubt.” Maldynado slipped out of the hollow.
“Find anything?” Amaranthe patted the vacated spot, inviting Sicarius to sit.
“Sespian is in the fourth car back.”
Sicarius sat beside her, keeping a few inches of space between them. Amaranthe thought about scooting over to lean against him-after all, it wasn’t exactly warm in that coal bed with the autumn wind sweeping past-but Maldynado and the others were in sight. A mercenary leader probably shouldn’t be witnessed cuddling up with an employee.
“Is he surrounded by soldiers?” Amaranthe asked.
“Yes.”
“Full car?”
“Very.”
“See any other assassins lurking about?”
“No,” Sicarius said.
Amaranthe wondered if Sicarius would be chattier than this when he came face to face with Sespian. How many years since they had spoken, she wondered. Or had they ever spoken? If Sespian had grown up being afraid of Sicarius, he must have gone out of his way to avoid the dark figure slipping in and out of his halls like an ancestor spirit. Ah, Sicarius, she thought, how much of the angst in your life might have been mitigated if you simply smiled at Sespian and gave him a lollypop when he was a kid?
“Is there anyone with him except for soldiers and bodyguards?” Amaranthe asked.
“A woman. Sixty, sixty-five. She was reading a book. Sespian kept his back to her.”
“Sounds like the woman Basilard described from the athletes’ dinner. She must be his Forge escort to ensure he doesn’t get out of line.”
“Not for long,” Sicarius said.
“Er, don’t you think you’ve killed enough of their people this week? If we turn them into martyrs-”
“She may be the one who put that implant in Sespian’s neck,” Sicarius said. “She may be the one who has the power to kill him if he goes astray.”
“She may simply be along for the ride.”
“I’m not risking that.” Nothing in Sicarius’s tone suggested she could persuade him otherwise.
Amaranthe sighed. “Be careful then. She may be a practitioner.”
With the darkness shrouding Sicarius’s face, she couldn’t see him giving her a you’re-stating-the-obvious look, but she could feel it.
